#no flops only hits masterpiece after masterpiece

[mysticmunson]

Maybe some Alpha!Eddie x Plussize!Omega!Reader comfort fluff/smut? Acquaintances to Lovers, she didn't think Eddie looked her way until it was discovered she was an omega. Reader is feeling low wondering if Eddie actually has feelings for her or if it's just because she finally presented. Turns out he always had a crush on her. He shows her he would've chosen her regardless.

from the sidelines: alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

authors note: hi darling! thank you so much for the lovely ask, i'm a bigger girl myself so these hit close to home. i hope you enjoy! i also want to note that my work can be interpreted as any body type, but this piece does reference being bigger. i'm not sure how i feel about this so feedback is welcomed as always. (not proofread whoopsies)

warnings: mentions of being bigger than others, insecurities, brief smut (18+)

When going through a turbulent time, a good friend can be the remedy or the impairment, but you weren’t sure which one had occurred with your relationship with Eddie Munson. 

Being the outcasts in middle school meant you stuck together, hushing the boys who teased him as he scared the girls who belittled you. Watching him grow was an unexplainable experience, not knowing the exact day when your platonic connection became romantic.

Change knowingly came when you both presented, him as an alpha and you as an omega. The knowledge of one another was by pure happenstance, but he didn’t hesitate to come to your house, assisting your situation. Already in a state of blatant desire, all his attributes became more prolific, noticing every line by his eye or fainted freckle on his shoulder.

The next few days were spent beside each other, comforting the other through affirmation or unspoken caresses. But as you faded from your heat, the knife in your chest began to twist, that there was a future beyond what was in front of you.

The delusion brought by nature during this time had blindsighted you to the impact this could have on your friendship, on your other friendships, and your mental health. The thoughts swarmed in your brain once Eddie pulled on his Metallica tee for a final time, kissing your head and going to his van.

The warmth of his skin still left you shuddering, recalling it like a forgotten song as he played every string of your body, a one sided symphony being left in its wake. His duty as composer satisfied his need to create as you reeled in the masterpiece at hand.

You hadn’t spoken to him since, taking every opportunity to avoid those soft brown eyes that were once so close to your own. However, the game of cat and mouse could only go on for so long, especially when he wasn’t one to beat around the bush. 

Trudging to the door, it was the first knock you heard on your door all day, the sun now set as the star just began to shine. The pounding increased as your steps went in sync, prepared to politely scare away whoever decided to ruin your night of somber. As you threw the door open, the tall man with a mane of curls was before you with an unamused look, stepping inside without saying.

He looked at you, crossing his arms over his chest with furrowed brows, clearly not entertained by your avoidance. It made you feel two feet tall, glancing down at your feet, only to realize your state of undress in only small shorts and a thin tank top.

“Shit, Eddie, let me get changed.” You mumbled, walking quickly, but he followed right after you. Cutting you off to your room, he went in first, flopping on your unmade bed.

“Not like I haven’t seen you in less,” He sassed, propping himself up on his elbows, “Now tell me why you’ve been ignoring me.”

The silence laid thick enough to cut, emotions swirling around you as you tried to think of any congruent thought. His attitude would typically amuse you, but now it felt too real. As if this were an interrogation, the bright light beaming down on your face as you broke a sweat, barely able to see him under the pretense that you had been caught. An unspoken crime.

Walking to your dresser, you pulled on a baggy sweatshirt, despising the heat while aching for the coverage. The same eyes that were looking at the back of your head had seen every crevice and crease of you, but you doubted he truly perceived you as you did him.

The detail in which you find yourself yearning for him goes beyond skin, but it’s the part of him you can touch. The self-given tattoos that took residency on his arms, the dimple in his back, the way his hair poked through the pores of his face. 

“Hey,” He broke you from your daze, “Talk to me, you’ve been ignoring me since last week.”

He sat at the edge of the bed now, pillow in his lap and, seemingly, much calmer. What you hated was the way it made you feel even lower, that your longing was so blind to him.

Rubbing your hands down your face, the burning within your skull made you curse yourself, struggling to control your emotions. The hitch in your breathing made his attention heighten, standing to pull your hands away to see your distress. 

The combination of loneliness, affection, anxiety, and all the other unexplainable sensations brewed into anger. Pulling from his loose grip, you pointed at the door while looking towards your feet, tapping one to show your lack of patience.

“I’m not leaving, not until you say what’s wrong. What we did was completely natural.” He sighed, flopping his hands against his jean clad thigh, wishing things would resume to how they were.

But the past was as painful as the present for you, maybe even more so now knowing he had touched you. It irked you that maybe the past was so easy for him to go to because nothing had truly changed.

“Eddie, stop, you don’t get it.” You spoke with a waving voice, trying to reign in the racing beat of your heart.

He scoffed, making you lose your grip on the invisible rope, blood flushing to your cheeks in a mix of embarrassment and pain. 

“What makes you think I don’t? We’re going through this together!” He emphasized, “I know it's different for alpha and omega’s, but we have each other.”

The band of false serenity snapped as your fists clenched, biting your lip for a brief moment before letting your words loose. 

“Eddie! You don’t get it because you didn’t have to watch you leave!” You sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in momentary confusion, “You went into your van and you drove home, but I’m still there. I’m still at the night you arrived, the night you left, and every fucking minute since.”

Your usual calm tone was exchanged for a fierce one, but through the frustration, the agony rose to the surface. He felt frozen in place as you continued your rant, wishing he could take a peek inside your brain.

“I have spent years watching you look at girls and I supported you every single time even though it made me want to die. These girls looked perfect and only had to worry about if your personalities matched, not if they even liked bigger girls in the first place! And I was there every single time. Shit, I was here when you presented!”

The tears rolling down your cheeks cascaded like the words streaming out, losing any bit of secrecy you had from him, hoping the feeling of relief would wash over you soon.

“I was here and I felt so beautiful and amazing and worthy. It hurts like hell knowing that was a natural instinct for you when it was so much more for me.” 

Before you could continue, arms wrapped around your body, securing you firmly to a warm chest you knew too well. One that you would fall into without hesitation, greeted by the familiar aroma that infiltrated your senses.

A palm stroked your hair, hushing your cries as you nuzzled into his neck, inhaling as if this were the last time. As if this were a pitiful action to cease the awkwardness, but there was nothing that could make Eddie seem anything less than accepting of you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, swaying you both to soothe you, but you tensed at his response. 

All the years of friendship seemed to be dripping from both of your hands, piling into a mess on the floor that would dissolve without a trace, just a memory. The thought of letting him go and never seeing him again terrified you, enough to humiliate yourself just to get one more minute of his love.

“You mean so much to me and I fucking mean that. I wanted you before we presented and even more now, it felt like destiny, like a plot twist in DnD.” He gasped, his nerdiness making you laugh as you smacked his chest, looking up at him, “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but the thought of you here, so needy, made me insane. More insane than usual.”

Hands gripped your hips as he pulled you to his body, “I need you, I wanted to ask you to be my omega, but I chickened out. I think you’re magnificent, like a beautiful princess from those old fairy tales.”  

Unexplainably dorky and with a hint of self depreciation, nothing could have been more genuine from your curly haired knight in shining armor. The cracks in your confidence would take a while to patch up, there was now assistance in the job as mere words helped mend the destruction.

“I have thought about you every day. How gorgeous you are, how perfect we are when we- uh- made love? Fucked? Whatever, that was great.” He laughed walking you both over to the bed, having you lay down as he threw his shirt to the floor.

Noses skimming across one another, his brown eyes pierced your own, his own breath tickling the hairs above your cupid's bow. There was no time for insecurity as his lips met your own, melting together into an entanglement of words left unsaid. 

As the clothes came undone into an accumulation on your childhood rug, your bodies mended as the doubt washed away, flooding into the forget worries of only minutes previous and longer. 

“I love you, I’m sorry I’m shitty with my words and didn’t say it sooner.” He breathed out, stretching you as he rutted into your cunt as you elicited a moan.

“I love you too.�� You whimpered, cupping his face while your thumbs ran across the hair protruding through, scratching the pads of your fingertips. 

It felt like you were creating a work of art as he made love to you, as if no one had felt so strongly about one another as the two of you felt right now. That no matter what occurred in the world outside of your home, it wouldn’t amount to the pure passion filling your bodies.

Finishing quickly with him right behind you, his body felt limp against yours as his arms shook, making you giggle that was music to his ears. With a wet kiss to your nose, he stared into your eyes and wondered why it took him so long to ask in the first place.

He had never felt this close to anyone, ever since joining forces in middle school, and he didn’t plan on anyone else. He had considered others, but no matter what, he couldn’t wait to run home and call you. To hear your voice on the opposite end of the fuzzy phone line, reminding him that you were always there. 

Truthfully, even if you hadn’t presented as an omega, he thinks he would’ve done anything in his power to adapt. He wasn’t ready to move through adulthood without you and if there was anything he could do about it, neither of you would have to find out.

tagging some who were interested in my other alpha content :) @elizabethmidnight2017 @iheartyouyou @forksloree @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @sillypurplemurple

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson gif #stranger things s4 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #alpha!eddie munson #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #a/b/o universe #a/o/b #elora writes

[bettyshoweduptotheparty]

I’m Still Here - A comment on media culture and perception 14 years later

I know I'm not the first person to make a connection between this 'Still Here' hat that Taylor wore last year and Joaquin Phoenix's 2010 mockumentary "I'm Still Here", but having now actually seen it, I can't not pick it up and comment on just how relevant this still is and how much it mirrors Taylor's experience and relationship with the media, especially as she herself described it during the reputation era. And seeing as this film is largely perceived as having flopped and fell on deaf ears, because the general public didn't get the commentary that was being made, I think it deserves a closer look and deep dive, even if it's 14 years later. I will be using the comments from a great article by Hanne Hermens, published in 2020 in diggit magazine (available here).

What is 'I'm Still Here'?

Back in 2008, actor Joaquin Phoenix announced his retirement from acting and proceeded to seemingly pursue a career as a rapper/ hip hop musician with limited levels of talent or success on that front. A lot of people thought it was a joke at first, but as the months went on and Phoenix descended into a scruffy, unstable version of himself, the majority of people seemed to buy into it and assumed that he'd just lost the plot. I was only 19 and living in Australia at the time, but I remember the media frenzy around this 'unhinged basket case' of a once famous actor when he'd apparently become something that was fair game for public mockery. Only a full 18 months after assuming this deranged public persona, did Phoenix reveal that it was in fact all performance art and his experience of the media and public engagement with his curated persona, a purposeful media scandal, was the subject of his non-fiction film. Somewhat not surprisingly, people didn't like being the butt of the joke and the film was perceived with a wave of outrage, people were calling him a liar, a con artist, and many other things. But just because the audience largely didn't like his way of holding a mirror up to celebrity and media culture, the question remains: Was this an elaborate hoax or was Joaquin Pheonix on to something with this portrayal?

It was certainly a big investment in a social experiment of how the media and public would react to a celebrity seemingly losing it and descending into chaos. And it did take a toll on Phoenix's mental health to be so publicly mocked, even though he'd curated this character and subsequent media storm intentionally. It does pose the question: Did he lie to everyone or did the media and public decide what his story was going to be because he dared to step out of his mold?

Hanne Hermens introduces the concept of narrativity in her article, a question of identity and authenticity when it comes to public figures and how they are portrayed in the media:

Personally, I think this film is a true masterpiece and just went completely over people's heads with the point it was trying to make. It was a very needed critique of celebrity media culture, and bear in mind this was 2010 when we barely had social media (!), it is so much more true and relevant today. And the bigger the celebrity, the more true it is. We create narratives and boxes for them that become truth, and don't you dare step out of it or you will be publicly humiliated... which brings me to our biggest current celebrity: Taylor Swift™

Taylor's relationship with the media goes as far back as her career is long, but has really taken a turn during her 1989 era, resulting in her her self-perceived cancellation in 2016 and her 'rise from the ashes' reputation era, which was very heavily styled around media narratives and it was the first time that she actually released music hitting back at the industry and media landscape. And, in particular, something that really reminded me of the points made above in the film and article, is the reputation prologue (the only words she ever said about this otherwise commentless album):

Like Hermens suggests, Taylor acknowledges the way the media narratives create truth for a celebrity in the eyes of the public. And she is making it very clear that she is the curator of her own narrative by 'what she choses to show us'. Something she also heavily emphasized in her 2023 TIME Person of the Year interview. So much so, that the article literally starts with "Taylor Swift is telling me a story..." and ends with the journalist wondering if everything he just heard and subsequently wrote about, was laid out for him to perceive in a certain favourable narrative. Maybe he felt tricked in a similar way to the public reacting to Phoenix's mockumentary, realising they were part of the game. But she does it in such a remarkable way that you can't help but play your part. Trust the greatest storyteller of our generation to beat the media at their own game. She has years of experience. But I think she's about done with this circus.

Reality or.... the manuscript?

If you are offended by the suggestion that Taylor Swift's public image is entirely curated and has very little to nothing to do with her real person, then please stop reading now. I think it is not too much of a reach to assume that at the very least, the majority of this larger than life persona she has become, is fake. If the songs on TTPD haven't given you that impression, you really aren't listening. In a way, her career so far has been an 18 year run of a show where she is the main character ("The years passed like scenes of a show"). And haven't the last 12 or so months given performance art vibes?? The Mayhem with Matty? The High School musical romance with Travis? The freakin Super Bowl?? Maybe I'm just too grossed out by it all, but it seems more fake and over the top than usual. And funny how most of the people she's hung out with during those months are all actors...

Relax, I'm not saying that she will pull the rug tomorrow and make all her little fans look like fools for believing in this show (although it would be funny...). But I think after all these years, it would be her prerogative to stop playing their game. Stop being a circus animal, or a toy in a box. The Tortured Poets songs are a warning (she said so herself in her summation poem) that, just like when Joaquin Phoenix pulled the curtain on his elaborate trick, many people aren't going to like what's coming. But I truly hope that this time, the message will not be so lost on people. Yes, we are all part of the problem. Our intrinsic nosiness and tendency to make celebrities into characters, remove their humanity and believe pictures in magazines more than their own words or art. We think we know someone, but the truth is, that we only know the version of them they have chosen to show us.

If we should be so lucky to meet the true Taylor some day soon, I for one, am excited to meet her.

#joaquin phoenix #i'm still here #taylor swift #celebrity media culture

[mariacallous]

(New York Jewish Week) — The corner of Ludlow and Rivington streets in New York City is now officially known as Beastie Boys Square.

The co-naming of this Lower East Side street corner — where the shop featured on the Jewish rappers’ second album, “Paul’s Boutique,” once stood — was the result of a 10-year effort spearheaded by Leroy McCarthy, an activist who has successfully lobbied for other New York City streets named in honor of rappers, including Notorious B.I.G. and the Wu-Tang Clan.  

Hundreds of New Yorkers packed the downtown intersection Saturday afternoon for the official unveiling of Beastie Boys Square. Though some kvetched about the humidity and the unexplained 80-minute delay, the Gen X-heavy crowd — plus a smattering of their offspring — was a respectful one, singing along to years’ worth of Beastie Boys songs played on loudspeakers as they waited for the ceremony to begin, and for the appearance of the two people everyone had come to see: Adam “Ad-Rock” Horovitz and Michael “Mike D” Diamond.

Horowitz, Diamond and Adam “MCA” Yauch, who died in 2012 at 47, formed their highly influential band in New York City in 1981. Though they started as a teenage punk band, they eventually pivoted to hip-hop — and after their first rap album — 1986’s “Licensed to Ill,” produced by fellow Jewish hip-hop fan Rick Rubin — produced a series of hits, the Beastie Boys became household names. 

The group followed up with 1989’s sample-heavy “Paul’s Boutique” — featuring the photograph of the Lower East Side street corner — which flopped upon its release but is now widely considered a masterpiece. Their next albums, 1992’s “Check Your Head” and 1994’s “Ill Communication” were cultural juggernauts, and four more albums followed.  

All three Beastie Boys have Jewish backgrounds: Horovitz, 56, grew up on Park Avenue, the son of playwright Israel Horovitz and a Roman Catholic mother. Diamond, 57, grew up on the Upper West Side; his father, Harold, was an art dealer and his mother, Hester, was a famous decorator and art collector. Yauch hailed from Brooklyn Heights, the only child of Frances, a Jewish social worker, and a non-Jewish architect.

In 2004, the group gave a very Jewish interview with Heeb magazine, in which Yauch disclosed he was trying to get his Uncle Freddy to teach him some Yiddish “so I could work some Yiddish lyrics on an album.” Diamond said he was raised by “a Barney Greengrass family,” referring to the famous Upper West Side appetizing shop.

Following Yauch’s death from cancer, the group disbanded. So, on Saturday, anticipation crept up alongside the mercury in the thermometer as the crowd waited to catch a glimpse of the remaining Beasties. 

But first, local politicians had things to say. Kicking off the speeches with a “mic check” or two was Manhattan Borough President Mark Levine, who put the Beasties’ Jewishness front and center.

“I was 16 when ‘Licensed to Ill’ came out — it was like a thunderbolt came down and struck me,” he said. “Now, I know these guys didn’t advertise it, but trust me: Every Jewish kid in America, we knew they were Diamond and Yauch and Horowitz.”

“Were you a Jewish kid in America back in the 80s and 90s?” Levine shouted to the crowd, and many — including this reporter — cheered back. “Yes you were! Personally, that was the first moment I realized there was maybe a faint hope that I could be cool. It didn’t work out, but I still have hope.”

As it happens, the Beasties have a few Jewish lyrics in their stable, including biblical references, a shoutout to Ellis Island, and Ad-Rock’s line “Well I’m a funky-ass Jew and I’m on my way/ And yes I got to say f— the KKK” on “Right Right Now Now” from the 2004 album “To the 5 Boroughs.”

Three other local politicians spoke: Assembly member Grace Lee and City Council members Carlina Rivera and Christopher Marte, the last of whom Levine credited with making Beastie Boys Square happen.

“You have no idea how hard it is to get a street renamed in New York,” Levine said of Marte. “He did it.” 

The activist McCarthy’s initial proposal for Beastie Boys Square was rejected by Community Board 3 in 2014 because the name change didn’t meet requirements. McCarthy was subsequently barred from reapplying for the name change for another five years. His renewed proposal was approved in 2022 with the support of Marte and other local politicians. In 2013, a small Brooklyn playground was named for Yauch. 

At last, it was time for the main event, and Horovitz and Diamond took to the stage while the crowd cheered. Horovitz, who said he “brought notes,” spoke first, exclaiming that he didn’t realize other people would be speaking. “Sorry if I’m saying what they said,” he said, thanking McCarthy and “everyone who loves Beastie Boys music.” 

“I don’t really understand why, but I know that I love it, so in a way that makes us kind of friends, right?” he added. “Like we bonded over these weird records, so thank you.”

He also thanked New York City, not only for the street renaming, but “for teaching us what to look at, what to listen to, what to wear, how to love, how to live.”

Next, Diamond took the mic, thanking the crowd for coming despite the heat. “Everyone is so dedicated, willing to put in the work to show the love, not only for this band, but, I think, everything we came from, coming from New York City.”

After giving a shoutout to his deceased parents, Diamond also expressed his love for New York, saying that the Beastie Boys couldn’t have come from anywhere else. “Growing up here in New York City and hearing all this incredible music, being all this incredible art, being around all these incredible people — this only in New York City,” he said. “So thank you so much, y’all.”

He concluded his remarks with moving words for Yauch, whom he described as their “brother on this amazing journey.” The crowd responded with chants of “MCA! MCA!”

But Horowitz, who appeared to get a bit verklempt as he concluded his speech, arguably summed up the meaning of the event best. 

“We walk around these streets and we don’t really think about who they’re named after, like Ludlow Street, Irving Street, Father Demo Square,” he said. “But it makes me really happy to know that some kid on their way to school 50 years from now is gonna pass by this and look up and be like, ‘What the f— is a Beastie Boy and why do they have a square?’ Just like I did when I was a kid, looking at Perry Street, Charles Street, wondering what it’s about.” 

[droughtofapathy]

The Gilded Age's Broadway Divas: Agnes van Rhijn (Christine Baranski)

Christine Baranski plays the curmudgeonly head of the van Rhijn household who always has a sharp word for everything. A bastion of Old New York, Agnes detests change and challenges to tradition.

In contrast, Christine Baranski has had a long and illustrious career in the theatre, even before earning mainstream recognition in movie musicals such as Chicago (2002 - a delight), Mamma Mia (2008 - an icon), and Into the Woods (2014 - the highlight in a dismal movie). In the theatre, she has taken on seven of Sondheim's finest works to much better success, including the original pre-Broadway workshop of Sunday in the Park with George (Clarisse, later named Yvonne), regional productions of Sweeney Todd (Mrs. Lovett), and the exquisite Encores! production of Follies (Carlotta) alongside Donna Murphy, our Mrs. Astor at large.

Christine is a two-time Tony winner for Best Featured Actress in a Play for The Real Thing and Rumors. We all know her iconic Tanya Chesham-Leigh of the Mamma Mia cinematic universe, so you'll forgive me if I neglect those performances in this list.

#1: "A Little Priest," Sweeney Todd (1999)

With Sweeney Todd raking in over $1.7 million weekly, let's start with one of many Sweeney Todd productions that's just so much better than what they've got going on at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre these days.

The act one closer is considered by many as Sondheim at his lyrical best. A comedic killer of a number, nailing the intricate lyrics would give even the strongest theatre veteran anxiety (I have seen many a delightful disaster and brutal butchery of this number), but Christine does so with aplomb.

This performance alongside Kelsey Grammar as Sweeney is from the 1999 Reprise! L.A. 20th anniversary concert production at the Ahmanson Theatre. Three years later, Christine would go on to reprise her role as Mrs. Lovett at The Kennedy Center opposite Broadway's leading man Brian Stokes Mitchell. Also featured in this production is another Gilded Age actress, but more on that later.

#2: "Everybody Wants to Do a Musical," Nick & Nora (1991)

Based on the book/film/tv Nick and Nora Charles, this musical is infamous for being one of the most notorious flops in Broadway history. It had a then-record breaking preview period of 71 shows, and closed after just nine performances, proving not even an all-star cast (including Joanna Gleason, Chris Sarandon, Debra Monk, and Faith Prince) and creative team can make a hit.

Here, Christine plays Tracy Gardner, a fading starlet whose comeback is threatened by an untimely murder. There's really not much that can be said about the plot, but if anyone wants me to recite an oral history of everything I know about this flop, DM me.

It's a miracle we even have a cast album to commemorate this...special show. A full bootleg can be found HERE on youtube, if you want to see this masterpiece for yourself. I can't imagine why you'd want to though.

#3: "A Fact Can Be a Beautiful Thing," Promises, Promises (1997)

Once again proving her comedic chops, here Christine plays a one-scene wonder barfly named Marge MacDougall in the 1997 Encores! production of Promises, Promises opposite Martin Short. The height difference really elevates the comedy. Her character shows up for one scene (and a half) and in every production, has stolen the show. You can see why. The number really has no plot value, but it's perfect in every way.

A note: Encores! for those unfamiliar, is a series of limited run concert-style productions put on by New York City Center. It was originally conceived 30 years ago to highlight hidden gems and forgotten pieces, but has included more mainstream shows in recent years (y'know, to keep the lights on).

Incidentally, Christine is not the only Gilded Age actress to take on this role to great success. The other actress has a...wildly different approach to the role. But more on that later...

#4: "I'm Still Here," Follies (2007)

I love Follies. I would commit atrocities you cannot fathom to have seen the 2007 Encores! production of Follies, starring fellow Gilded Ager Donna Murphy as Phyllis, Victoria Clark as Sally, and featuring Christine Baranski as Carlotta. Here, singing one of Sondheim's greatest hits, Christine plays an aged former Follies girl whose big number was cut, but is happy to serenade her audience with it now. My kingdom for a high quality bootleg of this show, please someone must have it.

Full disclosure: this is not my favorite rendition. That honor goes to Elaine Stritch in the Sondheim 80th Birthday Concert. But this one is damn good, now that I'm reviewing it. It showcases Christine's fantastic vocal and acting abilities, and that's Sondheim for you.

In 2015, Christine would go on to play Phyllis in the Royal Albert Hall production of Follies. And I love you, Christine, but you are a Carlotta through and through.

#5: "Welcome to the Theatre," Applause - Kennedy Center Honors (1997)

This past week, Christine Baranski honored opera diva Renee Fleming at the Kennedy Center Honors, but that was not only time. In 1997, she was one of three mega talents honoring the gorgeous, the glamorous, the golden girl from the Golden Age of Hollywood, Lauren Bacall.

She opened the tribute with a song from Bacall's Tony-winning Applause, a musical based on All About Eve. Side note: people have divisive opinions on Lauren Bacall's singing voice. I love it.

While Christine's isolated performance can be found, I elected to link to the full tribute so you can all enjoy this delight. Following Christine is my beloved Bebe Neuwirth, and the late Ann Reinking (singing songs unrelated to Lauren Bacall, but fuck it). The final trio of all three women is the stuff of my dreams. I need you to witness it too.

Bonus: "Hot for Howie"

Nothing I can say will add to this. I'll just let the song speak for itself.

LINK TO MASTERPOST

#the gilded age #agnes van rhijn #christine baranski #sweeney todd #nick & nora #follies #promises promises #applause #broadway #musical theatre

[keerysquinn]

A Bet's a Bet

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: Inspired by a tiktok by user: ladythugs - Steve and Eddie make a stupid bet that results in a tattoo

CW/TW: mentions of drug use and stick and poke tattoos

Word Count: 1.4K

Steve and Eddie's fingers brushed together as they lazily passed a joint back and forth between them. The two were sprawled out on the sofa in Eddie's living room reclined against separate armrests with their legs tangled together in the middle as they leaned into their mellow buzz. They hadn't put a label on what they were exactly just yet, but this was their favorite way to spend their "hangouts" when they could manage to keep their hands to themselves.

The topic of watching a movie together came up, and Eddie peeled himself off the sofa to put in a tape.

“Since someone forgot to bring over a new movie after his shift at the video store, we’re gonna have to watch one of the three tapes I've got for the hundredth time,” Eddie said as he held up the VHS boxes. “Take your pick. Friday the 13th, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, or Uncle Wayne’s copy of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.”

“You need a better movie selection.”

“And you need to remember to bring over rentals more often.”

Steve took another hit from the joint and sighed as he exhaled the smoke.

“Let’s watch the dude in the hockey mask kill a bunch of teenagers.”

“Jason isn’t the killer in the first one, babe. You know this.”

“I’m pretty sure he is. They built a whole franchise around him. I think the sixth one is about to come out.”

“Yeah, but he’s still not the killer in the first one. His mom is, and he doesn’t even wear the hockey mask until the third one.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Jason is the only killer in the franchise.”

“Stevie. Baby. Sweetheart. Light of my life. We have watched this movie together at least half a dozen times. How do you not remember this? Were you dropped on your head as a child?”

“Yeah, but I don’t see what that has to do with you being wrong about this.”

Eddie put the tape into the VCR and turned back towards Steve.

“You wanna bet?” he asked.

“Bet what?”

“I bet you that Jason isn’t the killer in Friday the 13th, and that it’s actually his mom.”

“Okay, but when I’m right, and Jason is the killer, you’re taking over chauffeuring Dustin everywhere he wants to go for a month.”

“Fine. But, when I’m right, you have to let me give you a tattoo of whatever I want wherever I want.”

“I will agree to this bet on two conditions." Steve took another hit from the joint. "One, the tattoo can’t be of a dick, and two, you are not allowed to tattoo my face or neck. I don’t wanna end up losing my job over a stupid bet.”

“I suppose I can agree to those terms.”

Eddie made his way back over to the couch and shook Steve’s hand to solidify their bet. Then, he flopped down to lay directly on top of him. Steve groaned before wrapping his arms around Eddie.

“Prepare to lose,” Eddie said with a smirk.

“In your dreams, Munson.”

* * *

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” Steve said as he held out his left arm.

“A bet’s a bet,” Eddie said. “You knew what you were risking when we shook on it.”

“Yeah, but that’s when I thought I was right.”

“When are you going to learn that I’m the one who’s always right in this relationship?”

“Probably never, but who’s to say? And why did you have to pick such a visible spot?"

"Would you prefer a tramp stamp?" Eddie asked with a devilish smirk. "Because I think 'PROPERTY OF EDDIE MUNSON' would look lovely right above your ass."

"You're cruel," Steve pouted.

"No, I'm not. I'm the nicest guy you've ever met. That's why I'm only tattooing your arm. Now, would you please relax and let me get to work on my masterpiece?"

All of Eddie's own tattoos had been done professionally after he'd saved up for ages to afford them, but he was no stranger to stick and poke tattoos. He'd given them to his friends, his bandmates, even random strangers at parties offering up his artistic skills alongside the drugs he was selling. Those were easier though. Someone else told him what they wanted, and he did his best to make it happen.

With Steve, it was different. He had all of the creative control, and he didn't realize how much that scared him when he made the bet. The truth was that he liked Steve. Really liked Steve. And with that came an intense pressure for this tattoo to be perfect. He'd never be able to live with himself if Steve didn't like the permanent art he'd etched into his skin.

So, Eddie worked slowly and carefully, trying his best to make sure all of his lines were straight and crisp. He stopped every so often to give Steve's hand a small squeeze or press a soft kiss against his shoulder whenever he winced from the pain, but for the most part, his focus was solely on the work that he was doing.

"Alright, Harrington," Eddie said as he finished the design, "I just wanna say that if you hate this, I totally understand, and I will pay for someone to professionally cover it up with something cooler if that's what you want, but I'm really hoping that you'll at least not completely hate it."

"You didn't disfigure me, did you?" Steve teased.

"No! At least, I don't think I did? Just look at it already."

Steve turned his head and rotated his arm to take a look at the fresh ink. Instantly, he found himself speechless. The main focal point of the tattoo was a baseball bat with nails sticking out of it not unlike the one Steve had used to defend himself and protect his friends from the creatures of the Upside Down. Flying behind the baseball bat was a curved line of bats that looked similar to the ones on Eddie's own forearm. If he looked close enough, he could sort of make out Eddie's initials hidden in the design - an E and M made up of twisted nails in a way that wouldn't have been obvious to anyone but them.

"Dustin told me about the baseball bat," Eddie said when he couldn't take Steve's silence any longer. "And I don't know. I thought that was kind of cool, but it didn't look like enough by itself, so I decided to add the bats. So, what do you think?"

"Eddie, it's - I mean, wow. I love it."

"Really? You're not just saying that to spare my feelings? Because I was being serious when I said I'd pay to have it covered up, so we could totally -"

Steve cut Eddie off by grabbing his hand and giving it an affectionate squeeze.

"Really," he said. "There's no way I'm getting it covered up. Besides, I think it's kinda cute that you made my tattoo match one of yours."

"No. That's not what I did." Eddie turned away from Steve, attempting to hide the blush that was blooming on his cheeks.

"You did. You're totally into me, and you want us to match. And don't think I didn't notice the letters hidden in the nails."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Eddie Munson, you are about as subtle as a heart attack," Steve teased. He reached out and gently turned Eddie's chin so they were facing each other. "Which is probably a good thing because I can be pretty oblivious when it comes to this stuff."

"So, you really like it?"

"I really do."

"Next time, you're getting the tramp stamp," Eddie said with a smirk in an attempt to calm the butterflies in his stomach. "That'll be less embarrassing for me."

"Oh, you think I'm letting you do this to me again? This was a one time thing."

"Until the next time you get stoned and make a stupid bet."

"I can think of a lot of better ways to spend my time."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

With that, Steve pulled Eddie in for a kiss. And, sure, maybe they hadn't put a label on their relationship yet, and maybe Steve didn't know where this was going. But after this, he was starting to think that maybe he wasn't the only one who was starting to fall in love.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #my writing #stranger things fanfic

[sports-movies]

Hustle Movie Review: Adam Sandler Has All the Right Moves in Netflix’s Solid Sports Film

Review of the movie Hustle: Adam Sandler shows that everyone would be much better off if he stopped making the kind of rubbish that he is typically known for and switched his attention to more dramatic films.

Adam Sandler previously served as a warning about what streaming could develop into. His early work for Netflix, which included unwatchable flops like The Ridiculous 6, The Do-Over, and Sandy Wexler, accurately predicted the future of the streaming service, which would be characterised by a McDonald's-style approach to filmmaking. But in typical Sandler form, he also kept up an almost constant stream of highly regarded masterpieces. Consider it his secondary business.

An early adopter of online entertainment, Sandler was one of the first well-known Hollywood figures to switch to streaming services after realising that his fans preferred to watch his fart joke-heavy films at home. The actor has a lengthy history of appearing in mediocre "comedies" that are frequently harder to sit through than tutorials on the inner workings of conveyor belts.

The overriding impression was that Sandler's whole comedy filmography, spanning three decades, was a sophisticated practical joke intended to highlight the film industry's demand for hits, the audience's appetite for trash, and how readily both can be abused.

He did, however, occasionally astound audiences with his emotional range in movies like Punch-Drunk Love, Reign Over Me, and, ironically, Funny People. After The Meyerowitz Stories and Uncut Gems, Sandler's most recent entry in a new wave of serious films is the aptly named Hustle, a Netflix sports drama in which he proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is not only one of the most talented American leading men of the last two decades—comic or otherwise—but also that he is probably one of the most accomplished filmmakers the film industry has ever seen. All those Happy Madison comedies had to have been a satirical ruse, didn't they?

He plays Stanley Sugerman in the movie Hustle, a famed fictitious basketball scout for the Philadelphia 76ers who has spent each of his daughter's previous nine birthdays travelling, staying in five-star hotels, and working tirelessly to keep the fast food industry alive. But he wants out since he's at his wits' end and has aspirations of switching to a coaching career.

Ben Foster, who is consistently dependable and gives particularly scene-chewing performances as his new employer, has other ideas. In order to save his career, he sends Stanley on a last-ditch effort to find and hire the game's next major star.

Stanley resembles the High Lamas who embarked on journeys around Tibet in search of the next Dalai Lama reincarnation in certain ways. Even while the real process of finding the next big thing in basketball is dominated by mind-numbing labour, there is undoubtedly a spiritual component to Stanley's unwavering devotion to the cause. His desperate search leads him to Spain, where he sees Juancho Hernández, an NBA player who portrays the lanky street baller Bo Cruz.

Bo works as a construction worker during the day and hustles upstarts for quick cash on the basketball courts at night. He resides with his mother and little daughter. Both Stanley's and Bo's hero's journeys are equally important in this story.

Hustle hits all the right notes, but it goes further than necessary in breaking clichés associated with sports movies. There are unending training scenes and thrilling fight scenes, and there is even an Adonis Creed-like "enemy" who consistently places obstacles in Bo's way. However, filmmaker Jeremiah Zagar keeps things going quickly, deftly setting up conflict when it is necessary, and finishing with the psychological slam dunk that only emotional relief can deliver.

This is, first and foremost, polished entertainment. Despite how strong the film is, it can't help but indulge in some shaky fish-out-of-water humor at Bo's expense (albeit ironically, it’s Bo who burns a hole in Stanley’s pocket with his unchecked spending on room service).

The supporting cast is portrayed in broad strokes in the screenplay by Will Fetters and Taylor Materne aside from the two of them. You can always tell who has it in for Stanley and his protege and who is just a friend. For instance, Foster's sole responsibility is to mock Bo every ten seconds. Additionally, the actor gives the performance exactly as needed, acting as though cancellation is staring him in the face.

Speaking about excellent acting, Sandler does a wonderful job here. Take note of his wordless portrayal in a crucial early scene when he is informed of the passing of a mentor figure. Zagar keeps his hand on Sandler's face as realization strikes, followed by shock, shock at the realization, and then sheer despair. It’s a real showcase for his talents and our semi-annual reminder that this is the kind of creative energy that Sandler should really be expending.

Read More About The Top 10 Sports Films of 2022 to Watch for a Motivational Boost

Read More About Rise: Release Date, Cast, Trailer, and Everything We Know About the Antetokounmpo Family Film

Read More About The Phantom of the Open

[aavega]

Enhance your gaming experience with UX design: An integral part of game development! 

User experience (UX) design shows a crucial role in the success of any game. Whether it's a mobile app, console game, or PC masterpiece, the way players interact with the game directly influences their enjoyment and engagement.  

In the realm of game development, UX design goes beyond just aesthetics; it encompasses the entire journey of the player, from the moment they launch the game to the final triumph or defeat. 

What makes a game more appealing?  

First impressions matter, and in the gaming world, they're often formed within seconds. A well-crafted user interface (UI) sets the stage for an immersive experience. Intuitive menus, clear navigation, and visually appealing layouts draw players in and make them feel at home in the game's world. Smooth onboarding processes and tutorials help players quickly grasp the mechanics, reducing frustration and increasing retention. 

  

But UX design isn't just about making things look pretty, it's about optimizing functionality and usability. From responsive controls to seamless gameplay mechanics, every interaction should feel natural and intuitive. Players shouldn't have to fight with the interface or struggle to understand how to perform basic actions; instead, they should be able to focus on the game itself, losing themselves in the adventure without distraction. 

  

Moreover, effective UX design can foster emotional connections between players and the game. Through clever storytelling, immersive environments, and dynamic gameplay, developers can evoke a wide emotions range, from excitement and joy to fear and sadness. By understanding the psychology of player behavior, designers can tailor the experience to create memorable moments that resonate long after the game is over. 

Conclusion  

Wrapping up with final thoughts on UX design that in today's competitive gaming industry, where player expectations are higher than ever, UX design can be the difference between a breakout hit and a forgettable flop. By prioritizing the user experience from the earliest stages of development, game creators can ensure that their creations not only look great but also feel great to play, keeping players coming back for more. 

Aavega Interactive is a top gaming studio with superior game art, game development and game QA services with expert level skills and experience. Our UX designers are well-creative and adept who used to provide unique and engaging UX designs inside the game like Cut Drop Strike.  

Stay tuned with our experts! 

#ux desgin #gaming #gamedev #mobile games #game art

[literaphobe]

I don’t think I can pick between the horse, parrot, or axolotl one of which is my favorite. They’re all so good.

the ‘minecraft, but my friend is a _______’ series rated according to how much i like them:

minecraft, but my friend is a dog:

dog!dream flip flopped between :D and >:( every 5 seconds n it was beautiful to watch

one second he’s cuddling w a minecraft puppy and going ‘baby 🥺’ the next moment he is viciously attacking george n attempting to murder him in frustration from how much damage he took because of george’s accidental hits. next moment he is sheepishly apologizing because george made him sit down and won’t let him back up until he behaved. and in the moment after that he tells george if i were ur actual dog i would have bitten you by now :/ (??????????)

i love the game mechanics of george being able to freeze dream so that dream can’t move n the ability to teleport dream to george when he’s too far away. v cute. fun balance of dream needing george to save him but also him being able to help him and also be so silly and goofy.

shoutout to the ‘RIP dog Dream :(‘ subtitle when they failed the challenge. 10/10

minecraft, but my friend is a parrot:

dream going BAKAWK n repeating everything george said my beloved. my minecraft youtuber is so annoying 😍

him going ‘my strategy to survive? well im a parrot so :) if anyone comes i can just go BLRRRRRRR’ stole my entire heart

him pretending he needed to eat and letting george feed him only to go JK xD and fly away. so many things about dream were so endearing n funny in this video

i am a big fan of him calling a wolf a ‘woof’ and also his harry potter messenger owl bit. when he sang that i will lead the way parody about being a parrot…. that changed the landscape as we know it :( he is a silly little birdie :( my little wackadoodle :(

also funnily enough this is the only friend is a mob video where they actually beat the game LMAO 12/10

minecraft, but my friend is a horse:

i love the running bit of dream badly mimicking the animals he’s meant to play. also a big enjoyer of him seeing another mob and going omg MY BROTHER…. MY UNCLE…. MY FAMILY….. and like giving names to all the other horses. he is so adorable

dream riding a boat as a horse and singing about it….. he is a disney animal princess. i love him. he is Silly. he is Whimsical. he sang so much more and even reprised songs from the last video. he Galloped. he Yelled. he made Incomprehensible Noises

‘the skeleton could Not touch this 😌’ proceeding him singing can’t touch this as he juked mobs was truly something

‘it’s dinner time and ur papa bird give me the worms! BLURPBLURBLURPBLURVBLURPVLUR’ changed me as a person

shoutout to ‘🎶we’re going on a trip my enderman friend, we’re going to the end, me and my enderman friend :D🎶’ my little parody song writer <3

idk why dream was so quotable but big love for him saying ‘i’m not a communist it’s not OUR food :/ sharing is caring but i don’t CARE >:(‘

george hitting an mlg horse on dream n them joking about how dream experienced what the horse in manhunt experienced n how much his back hurt was. JDJSJDJDJ

when they did risky horse parkour as part of their ‘victory lap’ and george told dream ‘i want you to get the last hit 🥺’ only for horse!dream to DIE trying and george stared in disbelief before killing the dragon w one axe hit….. a masterpiece. 15/10

minecraft, but my friend is an axolotl:

im sorry but george using facecam in this video really boosts the experience. they r getting SO many points for this alone

dream popping up going AHHH :D is SO cute but george thinking dream was green is fucking HILARIOUS. the fact that he didn’t even KNOW throughout the whole editing process because he BEGGED dream to edit it but he said no. so neither of them knew until the video was posted

dream finding other axolotls and going my brothers 🥺 my sisters 🥺 my uncle 🥺 why does he always find his uncle. why is he so cute

‘you’ll never find me >:) [gets found instantly] STOP :(‘ hits so hard

‘you need to Protect me :)’ completely destroyed me :( im trying so hard not to quote the whole video. im very in love w this video

every time they found a glow squid…. dream’s excitement…. him not wanting to kill it at first…. ‘it INKED 🥺’

dream’s whole ‘omg there’s DIAMONDS… oh nvm that’s not diamonds. it’s the glow thingy. There’s Iron!! there’s a creeper. get the creeper. i need food. im on one heart. i need food!!’ journey that led to george calling him Bad and him saying Take It Back :( was everything to me

the clown music playing. them finding actual diamonds and dream falling into the water and getting attacked and crying for george to save him as he escaped into a tiny Hole was so incredibly BABY :( why was he so baby this whole video :( everything he said was chock full of 🥺🥺🥺

him finding out he could only eat fish and not meat :( him going no 🥺 yeah 🥺 yum 🥺

his silly AXOLOTL SONG :( followed by him taking damage from lack of water n them SCREAMING DJDJS every time george scolded him for hitting mobs and had to save him and dream was all thank you… THANK YOU :( please why did i think it was a good idea to watch this. why is it so endearing

george nagging dream to be careful in the fortress as he went ‘im exploring! im exploring! :D HOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO’

dream being a silly little navigator who very clearly didn’t know where he was going as george complained n he insisted repeatedly that george follow him…. <3333

‘look just tell me that i’m good :( tell me i did a good job :(‘ —> them going back to the overworld n him saying ‘just give it to me raw’ —> ‘what’d you say you said u were gonna say something :/‘ ‘you… you did good dream’ ‘yay :D’ i am on the floor. please i cannot take this anymore

dream going im stuck in a pool 😔 and george teasing him about needing help before saving him… them racing w george in a boat and dream swimming as an axolotl…

dream punching him into the end and being so excited to beat the game only for the video to end super abruptly because dream fell 😍 JDJSJDJ 48283828372737/10

#ask #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #mcyt #this is so long im sorry #welcome to me test running a concept that i was gonna use for a post about manhunt #where i rate all the manhunts out of 10 too #askplus

[chilling-seavey]

Hey Emily!

How are you doing? I hope you are doing well

I have a Christmas imagine request for Christian.if you can’t that’s alright

So basically y/n is starting to put up the Christmas decoration and asked Christian to come help her decorate the apartment and in between the decoration process they take breaks by drinking hot coco and dancing to Christmas song after they finish decorating they were starving so Christian went to get food and y/n was looking at their masterpiece but she noticed something was missing which was the MISTLETOE so she hanged it in front of the door and was texting Christian to see where he was so she can record when he comes back  if he would notice after a while he would and you write the rest 🥺

Ik it’s too long but I hope it’s not to much

Love ya and ur writing

XOXO❤️

↳  A/N Aw thank you so much for this! For the ask and your kind words! I don’t often get Christian asks so I cherish the few that I do receive <3. Since you sent a general ‘y/n’ concept, I’ll just pick one of my universes to write it for if that’s okay with you – but don't worry it can be read and understood even without knowing any of my universes! This is as y/n as I can take it hehe

↳ Word Count: 972

↳ Anything But Mine Masterlist

Sunday, November 29, 2026

The apartment was filled with the cheery sound of Christmas music, laced with angelic jingle bells and soulful vocals, leaking into the hallway of the building under the thick wooden door. Christian was balancing skillfully on his tip toes, trying to neatly wrap the silver string lights around the small evergreen tree in the corner of the living room. The woman who stood just behind him was his most recent relationship – his life usually consisting of girlfriends being few and far between. Just a girl he had met while out with friends one night in the early autumn and hit it off and thus asked her out formally. They were taking it slowly but surely and there was no better time to spend together than decorating her apartment for quickly approaching Christmas season.

“I can’t believe I’m decorating so late this year.” she tisked as she watched him drape the lights over another branch for an even spread while she nursed her mug of hot chocolate in her hands.

Christian glanced over with a smile, “At least it’s not December yet.”

“True,” she admired his handiwork as he stepped back, “and your definitely have more of a knack for this stuff than me. This looks straight out of a magazine.”

Christian just smiled off her compliment as he lifted his own mug of hot chocolate from the coffee table, “Just missing the ornaments.”

“That box there.” she pointed with her toes that were hugged in thick woolen red socks. “Did your family always decorate early?”

“Early to mid November, yeah.” Christian spoke loudly over the new song that played with strong volume from the Bluetooth speaker set up on the table. “My younger brother and his wife and three daughters always come out here for the break so my parents aim to get everything done in time to spare. Then they just have to focus on the cooking for all of us and not the decorating.”

“Do I get to meet your nieces this year that you speak so highly about?”

Christian sent her a little teasing glare, “Only if you’re good.”

His girlfriend only curtsied dramatically, “Top of Santa’s nice list this year.”

“That’s debatable.” Christian hummed as he stepped closer to her.

His hands slid around her waist over the material of her winter sweater. She only smiled up at him, holding onto his arms sweetly as they moulded closer together as the Christmas songs wrapped them up in festive cheer. They shared a dance in the small living room overlooking the city of Vancouver, singing off key together just for the fun of it.

But as their hot chocolate cooled and the short day grew darker, their decorations were disappearing from their storage boxes and returned to their rightful places on the tree, shelves, and around the rooms. They both flopped back onto the couch together, apartment sent into silence by the music being turned off, and they took a moment to admire their handiwork.

“We make a good team.” his girlfriend smiled, curled up in his side as his arm was draped around her shoulders.

Christian nodded in agreement, “That we do.”

“I’m really hungry though.” she lolled her head to the side to look at him, “And I was going to make dinner for us but that sounds like far too much work.”

“Okay, I can pick up something.” Christian chuckled, stopping only to press a kiss to her temple before he was standing up from the couch with a tired groan.

“What a gentleman.” she grinned.

When he had left for the parking garage, she was left alone in her newly decorated apartment. Christian seemed to have an honest hand for that as even the star on top of the tree was perfectly aligned and sparkled beautifully. She circled the apartment to stack the empty storage boxes together to stuff back in the closet until spring when one missing piece caught her eye. Under a small pile of packing paper, a small green ball of faux foliage was poke out of the corner. When she lifted it out by its string, she recognized it as mistletoe.

With Christian out, this was her perfect chance to hang it in a place where a sprinkle of cheesy winter romance could blossom so she pushed over a kitchen chair and tied the mistletoe to the foyer’s light fixture.

Christian came back soon and she was waiting for him in the small foyer excitedly. He sent her a confused little smile when he closed the door behind him, arms claimed by the takeout bag and drinks, “Were you waiting for me by the door like a puppy?”

“Mm, maybe.” she shrugged sweetly.

“Why?” Christian dragged out the word a little in slight confusion as he met her in the middle.

His eyes followed hers as she looked up towards the light fixture and when he saw the new addition to their precise decorations, he looked back at her and bit back a smile.

“I see.” he said slowly.

“Mhm.” she smiled, clasping her hands behind her back to wait for him to make the first move.

“Well, we can’t go against the rules of Christmas, huh?”

“Of course not.”

“Of course not.” he repeated breathily before leaning in towards her over the takeout bags in his arms.

She met him halfway, raising up on her tiptoes slightly, and smiled into their kiss that lingered between them for a moment. His lips were icy from the cold outside air and hers were warm from the cozy apartment and they pushed together perfectly. After a few seconds a few soft chasté kisses, they pulled back with matching bashful grins.

“I hope you know,” Christian sighed, speaking in a whisper, “My niece is going to kill you for that.”

Anything But Mine Taglist: @stuffofseaveyy @hopinglimelight @onlyangelavery @randomlimelightxxx @jonahlovescoffee @sbrewer21 @bessonsbxtch @viamiasoncrack @21burritoseavey @queenseavey23 @xkelsev @serenityseavey @marthagryffindor

Please click the link in my bio to be added to the taglist!

#anything but mine #christmas writing party 2021 #christian seavey #christian seavey fanfic #christian seavey oneshot #christian seavey imagines #christian seavey x reader #daniel seavey

[tommydarlings]

Jarley Quinn ↬ t.h

A/N: Wow, one of the longest things i ever wrote! got this idea after i watched the joker and Harley Quinn birds of prey and i thought it would be nice to write it... I hope this doesn´t flop, sorry if it´s crap. anyway, enjoy! :) ily,liz <3 

pairing: Tom Holland x reader 

warnings: violent actions, mentions of nearly blowjob?, swearing

w/c: 1.8k 

Requests: OPEN

Summary: Your win an Oscar for your amazing role as Harley Quinn´s and Joker´s daughter, but you didn´t knew that Tom Holland aka your role model would be there too. 

this handwriting = actions and dialogues in the movie

masterlist || taglist || requests || blurb event

„Guys, i think that i´m gonna pass out“ Tom said as they all took their seats in the huge hall.

„Calm down Tom, it´s okay, your gonna win this“ Harry told his brother.

Today was the day.  Today were the oscars. And Tom got nominated for the best leading role in an action / psycho / R rated movie. Cherry.

And the best thing is, when he should win the oscar, then their gonna show cherry on a huge screen in the hall. That´s sick.

Leonarde Dicaprio, Jennifer Lawrence and a lot of other amazing and unbelievable good actors are gonna see his movie then. Sounds like a dream to him.

„Thomas, son, it´s fine, we all believe in you! Your performance in Cherry was amazing and even the Russo Brothers said that it was an oscar worthy performance! Find someone to beat that!“ His mother, Nikki, said to her son with a small laugh.

Just when Tom wanted to answer, the Russo brothers came and both sat down next to Tom.

„Hello, guys!“ Anthony said.

„Hello, how are you?“ Dominic asked them.

„Were good, and excited“ Joe told Dom.

„And i´m fucking nervous“ Tom whisperd.

„Hey, hey, it´s okay to be nervous. Your gonna win this, your gonna rock your speech and in the end everyone will clap for your performance after they all saw the movie!“ Anthony told tom.

Tom could only nod before a man came on the stage and started to talk,

„Hello Ladies and Gentleman! I hope you all feel well and excited!“

The man went on with his speech and after about 15 minutes talking about some random stuff, he finally said the words that the entire hall craved for.

„And now i´m gonna announce the winner for the oscar in the category action / psycho / R rated movie…“

Tom was shaking, Nikki and dominic prayed for their son and Tom´s brothers tried to calm him down a little bit.

„Calm down“ Joe whisperd to Tom.

„I c-can´t“ he stuttered quietly.

The whole hall was so silent, it was creepy.

„Y/N Y/L/N!“ the man on the stage said into the micro.

Tom had his head hung low after his name wasn´t said.

Everyone started to clap, but when they saw who came on the stage, everyone looked very confused.

„What the-„ Tom said.

A young women, maybe about 21 – 22 years came on the stage with a beautiful suit on her body.

 „Hold on, is this the wrong catergory?“ Tom said.

„No, it´s the action / psycho / R rated movie category“ Anthony answerd.

„How can she-„ before Tom could finish his sentence, you started to speak,

„Hello Ladies and Gentleman, omg i can´t belive this, sorry, I won´t steal your time, i just want to thank the cast of this amazing movie and my family and friends who support me since we started filming this masterpiece. Thank you so much and enjoy the rest of the night, love you“ you finished.

„And now, let´s watch the amazing movie of the oscar winner! Jarley Quinn!“ the man said with a huge grin into the mic.

„Jarley Quinn? Isn´t it Joker?“ Harry said.

„Or Harley Quinn?“ Sam said.

„Boys, let´s just watch it“ Nikki told her son´s.

They said a quick and quiet ´okay, sorry´ before the movie began.

Jarley Quinn was written in thick and big letters on the screen, then you appeared onto the huge screen.

You stood infront of a mirror and looked at your reflection in the mirror infront of you. You took each side of your mouth with your fingers and spread them into a big smile before you let me fall and started to cry, tears were running down your cheeks as you still looked into the mirror where you could saw your painted face and green dyed hair. You always painted yourself just like your father and mother did. And the hair were another thing you got from your father. It was funny and interesting.

After this little opening, you went to two graves with the names Joker and Harley Quinn written on them.

„So that are her parents“ Tom whisperd to himself.

„Obviosly“ Harry huffed.

„I´m so sorry mamma and daddy, i´m gonna make you proud and i´m gonna make the entire world remember your name, and my name i swear“ you said.

And then, then the scenes came where everyone understood why you got the oscar in the first place. Even the Russo brothers were impressed.

„Fuck“ you whisperd to yourself as you saw that you need money for the pills you were fucking addicted to. You don´t even need all these pills, but you basically craved them with passion.

„Not again, please not fucking again“ you yelled through your apartment as you tried to find some money anywhere in the living room or kitchen. You even looked in the bathroom.

„Well, i don´t have another option, so“ you said to yourself in a slightly bitchy way.

You grapped your weapon and put it into your weapon holder that was covered up by your red suit jacked from your father.

Just a few minutes later you stood with a bag full of money, a weapon in your other Hand and huge smile on your face that is covered in the iconic Joker makeup in the middle of the bank while every single person around was on their knees and begged for their lifes.

„I won´t hurt anyone, i swear okay? I just wanted the money, but before i leave, i would like to say something, of course if i´m allowed to“ you said.

The bank women nodded quickly with her head before you said your last sentence,

„You look so good on your knees, just like i did yesterday“ you said with an amused laugh before you shot the person that was kneeling infront of you right between their eyes.

You laughed hysterically while you ran out of the bank with the bag and your beautiful weapon.

„Oh m-my g-good“ Nikki whisperd to herself with an shooked expression on her face.

„I mean, that was sick, but it was good“ Anthony said.

„That´s right“ Joe agreed.

„How has she done that with so much ease?!“ Tom whisper – screamed at himself.

After you swallowed your pills, you decieded to go into the club and have a good time, well at least you wanted to have a good time.

The second you stepped into the club, people went silent and didn´t dared to move. But you didn´t liked it.

„What? C´mon, go ahead with your talking about whatever you were talking about! I won´t stop you!“ you laughed.

You really weren´t here to stop anyone, so you just orderd a drink and looked through the club. You stopped your gaze at one specific couch in the corner of the club, a man, trying to rape a poor little young girl.

„Let´s have some fun“ you whisperd to yourself before you took a huge sip from your martini and walked to the scene.

„Can i help you?“ The man asked as he saw you standing infront of him while he held the poor girl in a tight grip on his lap.

„No, but can i help you, little girl?“

„N-no“ she stuttered.

„Okay“ you shrugged before you walked away.

Hold on, let me correct, about to walk away.

You punched him with your fist right on his nose.

„Ow! What the f-„ before he could finish his sentence, you grapped your weapon and hit his temple with it.

He fell unconscious onto the floor and you laughed again in a quiet creppy way before the girl ran into your arms.

„Woah, woah,woah, i only saved you from getting raped, not more“ you said.

„You saved my life, thank you“ the girl said.

„No, i saved your virginity“ you said before you removed yourself from her grip and went to the exit. Before you could exit the loud and sweaty club, a young but confidence looking men grapped your wrist.

„Hello beauty“ he growled.

„Hello, with what can i help you mister?“ you said with a smile on your face that was still full of the iconic makeup of your father.

„How about you help me with the little problem down there“ he said as he looked down to his own…crotch.

„Of course! Your house?“ you answerd with a little smirk.

„Mine“ he said before he dragged you into a car.

Just a few moments later, you were on your knees right infront of his naked figure while he sat comfortably on the couch.

„You gonna be daddy´s good girl?“ the man growled quietly.

You nodded with your head before you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue.

„Good“ he whisperd before he put his hand on the back of your head and directed your mouth to his dick.

But before he could get what he wanted, you pulled your dagger out from your dress pants and stabbed him in his… dick.

„Ohhhhh shit“ Tom hissed while he lightly held his crotch with his hands.

„Fuuuuuck, i know this isn´t real, but that fucking hurt“ Harry said.

„Okay, wow“ Anthony whisperd.

„OW FUCK, YOU LITTLE SLUT!“ the man yelled in pain.

You just started to laugh hysterically again and grapped your lighter, plus a tiny Matchstick from the pocket of your suit jacket.

„Hold on, wha- what the fuck a-are y-you doing, NO AHHH-!“ the man yelled before you lit the matchstick with fire and threw it on his naked body.

You still didn´t stopped laughing in this creppy and loud way as you walked out of the house with a cigarette between your red painted lips.

The next few scenes were violent, brutal, sexual and absolutely disgusting, but at the same time… definitely oscar worthy.

„Okay, that was unbelievable“ Harry said as the credits started to roll.

„You right, that was a true masterpiece“ Sam said with a tiny laugh.

„It w-was really g-good, yeah“ Tom said quietly.

After the movie ended, you got a lot of praises for your performance. Finally, The hollands and the russo brother´s found you and walked to you.

„That was amazing Miss Y/n!“ Anthony said.

„Oh please call me y/n, and thank you“

„Yeah, it was great“ Tom said quietly.

„Thank you so much- hold on, you are Nico walker from cherry right?“ you asked Tom.

„Yeah, you saw it?“ he asked.

„Of course! It was one of the best movies i ever saw!“

The two of you didn´t even noticed that Nikki, Dom, the twins, paddy and the russo brother´s already went as you went on with talking and praises.

„Would y-you maybe l-like to g-go out with me?“ Tom asked with an nervous voice.

„Of course!“ you asnwerd quickly.

„Really?!“

„Yeah, of course, i would actually love to Tommy“

The nickname melted his heart immerdiately.

„Okay, c-cool, uhm, can i have your number?“ Tom asked.

„Yes, here“

After they exchanged numbers, Tom went to his Family and the Russo brothers.

„And? How did it went?“ Harry asked with a little smirk.

„Got her number“  tom said proudly.

„No way! That´s amazing!“ Sam said.

„She is amazing“ tom said with smile.

He can´t wait to see you again.

-`ღ´- ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ -`ღ´-

Taglist:

@goodgirlgonetom @majo240820 @misshale21 @itstaskeen @pure-ghost @justafangirlduh @elizabeth-brown @justafangirlduh​ @roseke​ 

#tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tomholland x reader #joker 2019 #harley quinn #movie #cherry

[sugar-petals]

Baekhyun Doms You: Ending Up Laughing

↳⎡NOTE.⎦thought this’d be an interesting concept & a different side to smut: what if you try things out and it’s both not your thing? w/ a humorous twist and subby bf moments sprinkled in 😄

♡  words. 4k

+ tags ⚠️ pwp hc, bondage, throatfucking, graphic, cum play, unsafe/clumsy practice: do not recreate, degradation, biting, masochist bbh, domme!reader switches unsuccessfully, whips, hair-pulling

imagine that. a wide-eyed baekhyun pacing and tiptoeing in front of your toy shelf, trying to pick a riding crop he fancies. it takes five minutes and several ‘uhh, ohh’ confused puppy noises until he’s able to decide which one he’s taking. 

...literally even if he knows exactly which one does what. you’ve used all of them on him. 

meanwhile, you take three seconds flat to pull out one that fits your mood and proceed to edge the living shit out of him. yes, without literal further ado. teasing his dick and marking his thighs and doing all kinds of delicious things. 

he’s still going back and forth in his head without having even started out. cutely tapping and swaying from one foot to the other. 

it’s like he’s back to school. priceless.

what’s even more hilarious: baekhyun practices random mean facial expressions while trying to decide. he doesn’t seem to be sure what character he’s going for. it feels like he’s rehearsing for a concert or photoshoot, even. absolutely fascinating to watch. 

i mean he’s absolutely photogenic no doubt about that but

you’re sitting on the bed waiting naked like okay is this gonna be william shakespeare deluxe or what is kyoong channelling over there

“um... i think i got it! this one, okay? i’m ready!”

finally he walks over, strutting with his nose in the air and his eyes glaring, muscles tense, a mysterious bad boy charm about him, whip ready to sting, lips tight and punitive...

....and hits his pinky toe on the bed

oh the pain

great master baekhyun flops headfirst into the sheets processing the existential cruelty of bedpost pinewood and needs head pats to recover

lots of head pats

at least twenty of them

so many head pats

more time passes until kyoong is back in character i guess

you probably could have listened to exo’s whole discography in the meantime

and knitted a rug for taemin’s new flat

anyway

baekhyun tries to act very confidently finally getting into it 

adopting a sharp ‘hmph’ kind of tone 

endlessly teasing your back and thighs with the riding crop

so far so good sir pinky toe

but he just goes on and on

you could actually crochet a pair of socks for chen’s daughter now that you think about it

it’s you who has to tell him to get to the point and it’s clear he’s more nervous than he pretends to show

to be fair he’s not the only one

you try to get yourself mentally ready but you find yourself giving him actual orders and even correcting his stance five times cuz he’s so wobbly on the mattress like a pupper indeed

baekhyun mumbles to himself and has a hard time fully implementing the advice on posture but tries to aim well regardless. it seems to work at first

but tragically

he ends up with a miss, hitting his own thigh rather than your ass and moans out loud

now you’re the one confused because you were waiting for the whip to come down

but nope it went elsewhere did it

you wonder how he managed to do all that furious fencing in the obsession mv with an aim like that

looks like he’s so submissive, he straight up whips himself

taking matters into his own hands is he. subs these days.

baekhyun keeps on being wobbly on the bed and looks like he ran a marathon already

may i remind you that this guy does 3-hour long concerts and can practice throughout an entire night

... you both agree to immediately scratch that completely after his next flailing strike sends the riding crop flying into his unsuspecting, non-consenting plushie collection

animal cruelty

moving on

you figure that a change of location might be a good idea

baekhyun sits you down on a chair and bashfully stores away the yeeted whip

he vows to never use a riding crop again already and his teddy bears are thankful for it

now the whole plushie village and whole china knows how you don’t do it

next up is rope

what could possibly go wrong

he practiced wrist bondage on his own ankles for five days straight, you really prepared a lot of things to test out together today 

and he’s seen you tie him up over and over and over

but whatever it is that he manages to install on your arms 

looks like a piece of very experimental modern art that just sold for half a million at sotheby’s

what’s supposed to be a column tie is nothing but a mere... ball

chaotic like baekhyun’s personality. not surprising at all

wait that rhymed

anyhow

even alexander the great couldn’t have cut this gordian knot of a tangly masterpiece

ironically: while baekhyun’s roughly grabbing your chin for an intense kiss... the rope casually falls apart harder than the soviet union in 1991 my loves, you ain’t ready

baekhyun takes ages to notice while he’s teasing and kissing you and ends up sweating bullets when he realizes that the sublime art fell to pieces.

sorry comrade 

the fantasy knots and artistic freedom increases even more when it comes to putting a collar and leash on you

and his guy is supposed to be a dog owner? mongryong, instruct your man

baekhyun is a flustered mess trying to fasten it on you even if he tries very hard to be concentrated

maybe it’s because you’re watching him with literal hawk eyes checking every move (...hoping he learned something from you oh my). you’re not really melting into your role either, huh. the only thing melting is your pussy because baekhyun is acting so embarrassed which is the actual turn-on

if that doesn’t give you away

the leash comes off in two minutes time after baekhyun miraculously ties his own hands together with it

how the fuck did that happen

how do you even manage to do that

eager are we

after whipping his own thigh, self-domination 2.0 i guess

so whipping and bondage are off the programme 

this has been the most chaotic and hazardous attempt at topping in the history of sm entertainment

and they’re literally called s and m

...humiliation is next

when you planned your session you both figured hey he’s tested and tried by exo’s lively debate culture and he might be able to pull that off

and there are no props involved so he’ll have an easy time right

life is an illusion

you find out he can’t pronounce degrading names clearly because he keeps on stuttering them. which in return makes baekhyun crack up. 

carrying on the joke, you correct him every time. 

“i want you to repeat after me: stupid, slutty, bitch.”

it ends up as you doing what you always do 

teaching and training him while baekhyun either shyly or brattily obliges. you don’t even notice how you’re doing it but from the outside, it’s blatantly obvious.

because your brain is still feeling in domme mode, you also find yourself saying the usual things to him without thinking, even when he grabs you and gives orders. “now bend over! i’m gonna fuck your brains out.” — “okay, cutie!” 

which causes baekhyun’s mean face to collapse and he snap out of his command tone immediately, snorting because it’s the last thing he expected

he tries to carry on by punishing you with an actual mouth gag and a harness he can hold onto while fucking you from behind, i mean your pussy is already wet why not

guess what’s gonna ensue

wearing a harness feels kind of strange and new so you wiggle back and forth and all over the place. like what is this, what’s happening. baekhyun’s dick is going into all kinds of directions my friends, the amusement park carousel surely inspired this fucking style right here. 

and wearing a gag — there’s a way different person who needs to have this in his chatty mouth. 

kai and kyungsoo’s dream would come true and yet you’re the one gagged 

something ain’t right

if you’re honest. you’re feeling so weird being on the other end of punishment tonight and not being able to give him any directions. your dom brain is worrying he’s all left to his own devices trying to drive that confused dick home left and right and above and below and diagonal and crosswise. 

the fuck

your poor guts my god

what’s worse: his stamina is gonna sneak up behind him and tap on his shoulder like... bro that’s enough pounding for a whole month please spare these balls from deflating please do not break this device

to which your pussy agrees in unison

how are you gonna love your bub day in day out if you’re that sore

there’s nothing more frustrating than being sore and horny with byun baekhyun at your disposal

or a knocked out boyfriend trying to generate at least a sprinkle of semen after getting completely emptied in one go

probably sleeping for three days straight

alright so the harness and gag come off fast oh dear baekhyun clears those away in a heartbeat

that’s another point off the list 

the more you know

carousel cringe dicking down type of dominance... bizarre, disorderly, totally erratic, not on the agenda, worst rated on bing 

comrade baekhyun keeps on apologizing for making things so messy even if he tries and tries

you’re both so puzzled because you’re used to something so different and need a water chugging pause

baekhyun hasn’t sweated this hard since doing the MAMA choreography

and your pussy has never had to provide this much lubrication at once

where on earth is both of your usual stamina what happened

if a type of sex exhausts you fast and even baekhyun’s balls are suddenly moody you just know you’re wired in the opposite way

safe to say you’re better at giving and baekhyun is better at taking

leave the multidirectional powerfucking to kai or something

and being orderly to xiumin

another rug could have been knitted my friends 

moving on dot org

so, you both figure to take it easier and try to go with something he usually does in passing. you know, turning a typical baekhyun habit into something you can try out casually in bed so he can tease you.

that one should work out right?

proceed: teeth action. you seated, him positioning himself above you. after your approval baekhyun pulls your hair back to expose your neck — so he can deliciously bite into it (or so was the plan). 

reality: his hand gets tangled up completely. 

while he’s busy nibbling and giggling about like a lil’ bunny chomping at a carrot that turns out to be extremely ticklish herself. 

in fact, you start squeaking out a wonky high pitch, startling baekhyun’s fine musical ear to the bone by the obvious atonality. did she just try to outsing my vocal range with a creaking whistle note? 

mariah carey would cancel you on twitter over this one

that’s how you turn a vicious, possessive bite into an eternal meme

every time either of you go for a neck kiss, you end up imitating each other. baekhyun has immortalized himself as a nervous chomping bunny and you as the vocalist anti-christ

lord have mercy

you miss your old sex life already and it’s only been two hours

cause you see... if baekhyun gives you the chance to bite him? he needs a set of long sleeves, scarves, and an extra soft pillow to sit down on for the next two days

like, no mercy bitch

you get right down to business and ravage him and do it properly until he cums in his pants

sure, the way he uses his tongue now is definitely kinda hot mind you

baekhyun is always good with his singing equipment that doesn’t suddenly change aye

and you keep your eyes closed

but with time you notice that he starts drooling and whimpering. baekhyun’s wet mouth is out there betraying him, huh.

same with your body. your reactions give you away, body language just won’t lie. you have a damn hard time staying still. you wanna do something, you wanna touch and guide baekhyun all over.

and vice versa baekhyun keeps on glitching and doing the same thing he really became a living tumblr gif now

this whole session is just so confusing and laced with all these moments of awkwardness it’s really telling you something about yourself and mister pinky toe’s ideal dynamic

baekhyun can’t even get himself to even lightly slap you properly. and when he does, his delicate hands are just so cute. it’s as if legolas came along, scented in jasmine, elegant and fabulous like it’s a l’oreal commercial

he immediately looks concerned after he manages to do it cleanly and you admit it wasn’t really that exciting a feeling yourself. it felt more like, “um ouch, and?”

needless to say, you’re weirded out if anything, baekhyun smacking and dragging you around as a cold-as-ice dom is just a strange thing to do for both of you 

like even exo’s wolf era fashion was more coherent than this carrot fuckery

and those were some of the most intense turtlenecks ever 

is there really nothing dominant baekhyun can pull off. come on he’s the genius idol 

actually 

there’s something that does work out for once

because no rule without exceptions indeed

because hey, you can learn something anyway, it’s the whole point of you going through a list of things to try as a couple

baekhyun is good at doing the more hardcore, faster kind of fingering. who would have thought, totally surprising, revolutionary i know. but that’s where you’re both agreeing hey, there’s some untapped potential you can use for the steamier evenings you have going. 

cuz wow, he can get you off with flying colors. 

...only to succumb to a malfunctioning bobohu wrist 

even baekhyun’s boner for your legs in latex isn’t that stiff

it’s another pause until his hand loosens up again

this poor man just can’t win

and if you’re asking oi hard domming isn’t the only thing you can do

baekhyun trying to summon his inner soft dom: surprise, same old tale. here we go again.

your boyfriend thinks he generally looks way too puppy-like to be your big ole buff daddy taking care of you. oversized sweater, fluffy hair and all. 

you say to him well, it’s not that doms can’t wear casual things. but it’s true that you have to feel your role and find yourself believable. regardless of your looks, in fact. 

unless your partner really enjoys you dressing up as some kind of dominant hyper-archetype? looking the part is relatively unimportant if you’re absolutely made for dominance you say

pretty eye-opening moment for him

in your roleplay, he caresses and kisses you to the point, he can approach and lead you to do this or that position, don’t be mistaken. and he’s good at making presents, he’s indulging you perfectly well and actually likes doing it. but... it still ends up being more vanilla than not a few hours in. the d/s is out the door almost automatically the longer you do it.

at the end, it leaves you with a feeling of “but err, what now? give the maid outfit to charity?” 

baekhyun rubs his neck in search for something else to do, both of you staring at each other with expressions blanker than kyungsoo when a prancing chanyeol is acting up.

how did the quote go again. if you scramble for inspiration, let it be?

it’s exactly that situation when baekhyun soft doms. he can hold you tight and do his thing for a while, but the chemistry of your roles is dwindling into a question mark.

in fact. there’s an uneasy silence as if great mother suho was sitting right beside you critiquing baekhyun’s sugar daddy skills

baekhyun is rich like a motherfucker and can’t even call you ‘my innocent lil’ baby girl’ without looking like he just learned a first grade tonguetwister by heart

you did play your parts with less cracking up, but you clearly tell him that there’s still something strangely clueless and “ah, awkward” (baekhyun’s verdict in response, verbatim) in between the two of you. 

when you take care of baekhyun and tuck him in, you hardly run out of ideas. it just goes on and on. even when you played through an entire scene, you both come up with things to extend the scenario because it’s so much fun. you make him a hot chocolate, massage his feet, brush his hair, do some extra light bondage with a silk ribbon around his ankles to make him feel pretty, feed him pizza, have him cuddle up in your lap, pinch his ass, and do some rimming if he’s feeling a bit hornier. 

the spoiling is nice at the start, but there’s something missing. you want to lead his hands and really treat him, and do it all the time, and baekhyun really finds himself craving it as well. 

baekhyun soft domming quickly turns into — well just normal loving makeouts and gestures. you kiss and touch, there’s nothing hierarchical about it, nothing mega juicy or exciting.

you just don’t get into the groove, you know. there’s nothing particular happening if you try to get into those roles. it doesn’t titillate both of you for an extended period of time, it doesn’t make you curious for more. it’s like... shrug. what about it. 

when you usually dominate, you know something hits home when you think about it all day. baekhyun screaming and crying with his legs twitching pops up whenever you close your freaking eyes goddamn.

you make a note to observe whether you’re going about your daily business thinking about how you could be his innocent good girl. following his every whim, making big eyes at him or something. 

result: more shaky, ruined baekhyun moaning his soul out in the highest of notes and leaking cum everywhere from getting choked and his face sat on. 

daddy baekhyun has simply not crossed your mind. in fact, poor guy no chance to fit in there from the get-go. his particularly whorish, extra subby counterpart is all over your brain cells with his tongue out. and you’re very tempted to grab it between your thumb and index and spit in his mouth for some very good measure. maybe cum in it as well.

um. so there’s that. the more you know.

baekhyun figures as much himself and you try the other side of the equation. oh, oh. here comes hard dom baekhyun.

who gets you on your knees and starts a wild deepthroat session while calling you names. that’s all well and good... nope. your gag reflex decides to yeet some weird coughing facial expressions and reflex cock bites at poor baekhyun who doesn’t know what’s happening. to finish him off completely, you sneeze while having a hiccup and his dick slips out. 

... you both safeword at the same time.

that cleanup has scarred you both for life. what the everloving fuck. no more impulse throatfucking in this pure christian household, then. 

you’ll stick to lazy, twirling, indulgent blowjobs and the usual ruined orgasms for him — the actually planned ones, jesus christ.

like seriously. you invented a whole new language with those confused gargling noises and that wasn’t french, it was advanced level klingon. baekhyun repeats asking if you’re okay and you’re still stuck realizing oh hell, that was not pretty. off the bucket list, you like sucking him off but this style just doesn’t come natural to you. 

the popsicles you could train yourself with are usually gone from the freezer within a day after getting the groceries. baekhyun is wholeheartedly addicted to them. 

he loves cheating on his diet since you told him his fully cheeks are your emotional support squish and kiss pillows, so.

baekhyun rightfully insists he’s better at eating pussy the wild way in the first place — and that you have no business choking on his dick like you’re on hot ones eating the world’s spiciest whatever is trending now.

or actually... baekhyun’s dick can’t be compared to a chili pepper if we’re doing a choking analogy alright. that just doesn’t fit his promotion concept. cinnamon stick is more like it.

ever saw one of these terrible cinnamon spoon videos where reckless people try to defeat god by— anyway, you’ve seen them. that’s how you looked like trying to get your mouth fucked. i think god would actually be defeated by how far away from divine elegance that was and you’re so sorry for subjecting baekhyun to this artless display. 

cinnamon is still best used in small doses. say, for garnishing a creamy cake or pie y’know. 

anyway. you dished up the most butchered attempt at sexy gagging in history and so, baekhyun will preach for days how he’s the one chosen by fate to push down seven big fat inches of your strap still half asleep without even blinking. 

... and that his world-class operatic breath control would probably enable him to bury his face in your pussy on mount everest. baekhyun knows that every domme would sell her soul to get a sub as skilled with breathing as him.

...and that he has the official copyright for giving quality slobbery oral with quality smudged tears. as he will demonstrate to you almost daily from then on. king of messy head and going stupid with the tongue acrobatics. ugh, the noises are amazing, too. give him a grammy for his oral sounds.

gotta leave the heavy-duty work to the experts innit.

at dinner, he also poutingly brags how he can make his spit run out of his nose while he’s sucking himself through your entire dildo collection. and blow spit bubbles. and snort his own semen off his thighs and let it drop off his tongue if he’s in a particularly slutty mood. or a creampie. jeez, baekhyun, the wolf of wallstreet is strong in him. you literally have to stop him from showing off because “hey boy, i already know! i’ve seen it last week bro it was good!”

needless to say he’s talking in essays all day because he wants things go back to normal and he doesn’t have to ask twice.

for real, your candy man with the cinnamon stick has been suffering from the love bites and has to retire his cock for two days from the bruising. 

mind you. the pain he can deal with. that ain’t the problem. by all means, man. he’s a fucking masochist. 

it’s actually more like... submissive you has deactivated his boner and he can’t help it. it’s not you that makes him limp, it’s more like, the klingon choking and the ton of mishaps that just don’t sit right. 

baekhyun feels bad about not doing well enough to make both of you have a good time as well which is lowkey heartbreaking. you have to cheer him up with ‘now repeat after me: stupid, slutty bitch’ jokes to make him chuckle at least a bit.

cuz you gotta understand, baekhyun is very ambitious to develop his talents in all areas of life. if there’s a skill he gets stuck with and he can’t work with his potential, that’s so unusual to him.

and you say man, imagine if you were some kind of uber-talented dom. that’d still not make me sneeze any less.

if you dominate him, it feels easy to do. nothing can really ruin the mood, not even when the lube runs out (baekhyun drools enough to make anything slippery okay). 

except maybe when xiumin rings on landline because he left his favorite fluffy sweater in the subway and needs to vent about it. my god that’s such a tear-jerking story i’m close to sobbing. this shit could kill literally any boner.

or when your hand cramps up after shoving your fingers down his throat and in his ass for like half an hour which should be ranked first as the saddest anime betrayal of all time but it’s justifiable and you had a lot of fun beforehand.

in other words. only the things outside of your control tend to mess with your femdom business. in and of itself, nothing can kill your vibe except a dying battery obviously. 

whereas you trying submission oddly spoils the atmosphere from the inside out and provides a free cringe compilation. like without even doing much, it happens automatically. 

baekhyun relishes in dramatically recounting how you both looked like true clowns attempting a rendition of overexpensive, extra tangly contemporary art bondage. hell, not even employed clowns, completely retired ones, struggling to regain their tightrope tricks from summer 1912 when harry houdini was still hot shit in town. 

you say oh god, that wasn’t even worth a retired clown’s skillset, clowns work damn hard man. you’d be hardpressed to find any circus artist capable of cracking a whip onto themselves baekhyun-style and moaning out loud because it was this good. seriously. that was one for the books.

if baekhyun tried to set foot in some willy-nilly maledom porn, he’d be capable of firing himself on the first day. 

at the end, you just have a good laugh, man. you agree — hey, this ain’t it, but it’s good to know at least. tried and tested, been there, done that. self-whipping and carrot-nibbling and blowjob hiccups.

if you’re both so hopeless and living up to the challenge managed to upset poor mariah carey instead of giving you a hot and steamy time, you very well know where you belong. that’s a good feeling. assuring and a confidence boost for your skills. it makes up for all the clumsiness actually. 

exactly because the try-out part was an entire disaster, domming baekhyun will be even more fun, you can’t see it becoming anywhere near boring. it never really was, but now you know where your strong suits are even more so. and — what to avoid, anyway. 

no more unsafe practice and teddy whipping under this roof my friend

and something to incorporate more often which is baekhyun unleashing his very creative, pianoesque fingering skills on you.

you have lots of anecdotes to rile each other up as well. or, at least, tease another a bit. your high note was too legendary not to be remembered.

baekhyun will use all of these things against you in a positive way if you get what i mean. he’ll say how you being so strangely vocal made him realize just how commanding and compelling your sexy time voice is when you tell him how to kneel, how to kiss, how to revere.

and you teasing him how clumsy a dom he is makes baekhyun more self-assured in his subbing abilities. he knows for a fact you’ve not once roasted him about how well he can use his pretty mouth. cuz it’s the real deal. sloppy, skilled, and eager to please. he’s damn right about that.

hitting his toes has ruined baekhyun’s whole career as a dom and he was mad at first but he did realize that beside the clumsiness, subbing just suits him well as a principle

your experience gives you even more anticipation for all the sex you will have in the future. 

you already knew what you both liked. you know it even more now, it’s underlined, it’s a big relieved yes. no more cringey “daddy, daddy, choke me please!” worship. time to make his day and sit on baekhyun’s perfect face to fuck the shit out of it. 

or you know, actually land a whip on his juicy boyfriend thighs and listen to those heavenly loud reactions in a dead-on pitch (he usually moans in C minor).

long story short and cinnamon sticks aside. it’s even more fun now. you just love your cute subby boy just as he is. he doesn’t have to try to be anything else or step up his game. he’s so ideal just doing what he does like a real angel.

more subby stuff: m.list + ao3

↳⎡FINAL NOTE⎦i love writing crack lmao i hope you were rolling on the floor like i did 😂 write me your favorite part in the comments so we can laugh again and buy me a ko-fi if you wanna 👍

© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun #exo smut #exo #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun hc #sub!baekhyun #baekhyun crack #exo crack #dom!baekhyun #baekhyun headcanon #sub!exo #baekhyun bullet points #exo hc #exo headcanons

[wiltingofthewhitelily]

{Hetalia Platonic Ships Week 2021} Day 5: Partners in Crime - Latvia & Moldova

A/N: Submission #5 for @hetaliaplatonicshipsweek!

Sooo I was originally gonna do Sealand and Latvia for this one (or just a submission with these two in general), but then I thought this scenario would be funnier for a reason I'll talk about in the next paragraph sooo yeah. Plus, I like to think that Latvia and Moldova probably grew pretty close to each other during the Soviet Union days, seeing as they were the two "little ones" I suppose. (Although, in general, I do feel like Latvia would've hung around Estonia and Lithuania more, seeing how his age and maturity level are much closer to theirs than to Moldova's. But anyway.) I don't know...I just wanna see more content with these two cuties just being friends with each other ok??

For this one, two of my hcs are joining forces to create one (hopefully) pretty humorous little fic. These hcs are: one, Latvia is a pretty big prankster; and two, Moldova is a goody-two-shoes and is lowkey a tattletale (though not in a malicious way at all; he's just trying to be good). I do honestly really like the end result of this one, though I think I got a little carried away with this story and may have made some of the characters a little ooc in the process, sorry 'bout that lol.

Ok, enough with this long ass author's note and onto the fic-

»»————-　➴　————-««

Latvia raced to the back of a chair, crouching down low and hiding behind it while also trying to hide his intense giggles. He watched as Ukraine went up to the pot in which she'd been cooking some soup—the same soup where Latvia had dumped a spoonful of spicy sauce in beforehand.

The woman did just as the Latvian had wanted her to—she picked up a spoon and dipped it into the pot to do a small taste test. The curly-haired boy bit his lip as he watched. Soon enough, she set the spoon down hurriedly, let out a noise that was halfway between a yelp and a surprised whistle, and shortly after began to cough lightly.

Latvia had to place his face between his knees to silence his laughter, his small body beginning to shake. Any sort of enjoyment he could get in this hell house, he would one hundred percent strive to get—and pulling small pranks like this on all the residents inside of it was just what he needed to accomplish that.

Soon, Latvia heard tiny footsteps and then a voice: "What's wrong, Sestra?" Moldova.

Ukraine let out another whistle and answered, "I don't know, the soup was really spicy for some reason." Latvia almost let out another snort at this, but caught himself just in time.

The teen heard a few more words of soft chatter and then footsteps coming up close behind him. Then, a pause. Latvia could already tell it was Moldova and got a bit nervous. The little boy tended to be, for lack of a better word, a bit of a tattletale—he was afraid the child would somehow find out what he'd done and go rat on him.

Sure enough, Latvia heard Moldova pull the table curtain back and crouch down to Latvia's level. "What are you doing down here?" he immediately asked curiously, sitting down on his knees as well.

Latvia turned to him and put a finger over his lips, trying to tell him to quiet down a little. "I'm hiding."

"Why are you hiding?"

Latvia bit his lip. "I...did something."

"Did what?"

He internally grumbled. The kid wouldn't let up now, would he? Latvia thought it might be a little okay to tell Moldova—he was, admittedly, kind of eager to show off what he'd done, to somebody. Even if it wasn't that big of a prank (especially compared to some of the other masterpieces he'd done in the past), he still thought it was funny. Plus, he could probably easily stop Moldova from tattling—all he figured he'd have to do was give him candy or something. "Okay—I put some spicy sauce in the soup Ukraine was cooking. As a prank." He bit his lip to keep from letting out a big laugh.

Moldova was much less amused—in fact, he looked more confused than anything. "Why?" he asked, brows furrowed.

Latvia didn't really know what to say; he just shrugged. "...Because it's funny."

"But that's bad," the boy pointed out, his tone turning a bit stern.

The teen sighed. "Yeah, I know...but it's funny."

Moldova gave Latvia one more quizzical look before slowly standing back up. "Ses—"

Latvia caught him, pulling him back down and covering his hand over his mouth. "Moldova!" he whisper-scolded through gritted teeth. "No."

Moldova looked over at Latvia, eyes wide. Finally, the teen released his hand from his mouth. "Latvia," he asked, "why did you do that? I only wanted to tell Sestra."

"No!" he responded. "It's a prank—you can't just tell her."

Moldova cocked his head to the side. "A prank?"

"Yeah—it's supposed to be funny."

"Funny?" the little boy asked. "I like funny things. Pranks aren't supposed to be bad though, are they?"

Latvia looked up. "Well, kind of. I'm technically not allowed to pull them—but I do anyway." Despite himself, he giggled a little at this.

Moldova blinked. "Why?"

Latvia placed his palm up to his cheek—this kid really asked a lot of questions, didn't he? "Because it's funny."

"Well, I wanna have fun too." Moldova sat for a few moments, looking down, as if thinking. Then, he pursed his lips and motioned for Latvia to come closer, to which the teen did. "...I kind of wanna try a prank, just a little one," he whispered into his ear. "Not one that's too bad, though."

Latvia contemplated this a bit. It would be fun to have a small partner-in-crime to his mischief—especially one as young as Moldova, whom he could hopefully mold and shape to be his sort of sidekick. He grew a little smirk. "Okay."

Moldova gasped in delight and clapped his hands. "Yay! What should we do first, Latvia?"

Latvia rubbed his chin, before getting a good idea. "I've got it." He grabbed the Moldovan's small sticky hand. "C'mon, let's go."

»»————-　➴　————-««

"Okay, so you have to be very quiet before he comes—got it?"

"Mhm!" Moldova replied obediently, grinning from ear to ear at the older boy.

The two had placed one of Moldova's stuffed bears—the one that said I love you! when the stomach was pressed—on a seat at the dining room table, where Estonia was about to sit, as he was in the kitchen getting a cup of coffee and a newspaper. The hope was that he would be surprised by it and jump out of his seat. Nothing very exciting, Latvia knew that—it was mainly because Moldova had been very picky about what kind of pranks he wanted to pull, as most of the ones Latvia suggested were deemed 'too bad.'

The two boys watched from behind the door in the small office across from the dining room in anticipation. Soon enough, Estonia walked in and was about to sit in the chair he always sat in, the one containing the bear. He flopped his newspaper and prepared to sit down. Once his butt hit the bear, it activated that sickeningly-sweet high-pitched voice: I love you!

Startled, Estonia immediately sprang from his seat, gasping; he spilled his coffee all over the floor and his newspaper tumbled to the ground.

Latvia and Moldova began to cackle at this hilarious sight (still trying to keep their voices down, which was difficult); Latvia held out his hand for a high-five, which Moldova gladly accepted.

Estonia must've heard this, as amidst wallowing in the mess he'd just made, he crept over toward the door of the office, poking his head into it and seeing the two boys. He cocked an eyebrow. "...What are you two doing in here?"

Latvia was about to make up some petty excuse before Moldova spoke first: "Haha! Haha!" he exclaimed, still giggling. "You got pranked!"

Estonia was still a little confused until he realized: they must've set that bear down purposefully on the chair (he already figured Moldova had done it, though he'd thought the little boy had just accidentally left it there after playing with it). He then put his hands on his hips and grew a bit of an angry look on his face—they'd made him spill coffee on the floor and ruined his newspaper, for crying out loud! "Well," the Estonian began, "hate to say this, but you two are gonna be the ones to clean up the coffee."

Latvia had been laughing right along with Moldova, though when he heard Estonia say that he immediately grew a cross look as well. "Aw, no fair!" he argued. "You're the one who spilled the coffee! You clean it up!"

To his surprise, little Moldova backed him up. "Yeah, you clean it up, Estonia!"

Latvia looked down at the small boy and he couldn't help but crack a smile despite himself, thinking it was quite cute how he was mimicking him.

Estonia gave the two an annoyed glare. Latvia backtalking him wasn't really that out of the ordinary, but Moldova? The kid who literally asked every morning if he could take out the trash? Okay, now that was ridiculous. He groaned and, now out of options, he turned around and shouted, "Ukraine!" If there was anyone who would back him up and make the two clean up the mess, it was her.

Latvia clicked his tongue and immediately jumped up to run after Estonia, already complaining. Moldova hurried up and followed him, parroting him again.

Soon enough, the trio had all stormed over to Ukraine, who was sitting in the living room reading a book. She set the book down and got up as she began to hear their complaints, throwing her hands up in the air. "Goodness, what is going on here?" she asked.

Estonia shifted his glasses and began to speak, now gaining his composure and standing up straight (Fake, Latvia thought to himself as he saw this): "Latvia and Moldova tried to pull a prank on me," he began. "They sat one of Moldova's bears down on the chair—you know, the one that Russia bought for him that says I love you when you press on its stomach?—yeah, they sat that one down in the chair and I sat in it; it scared me and I jumped and ended up spilling coffee everywhere." He cleared his throat and concluded, "So they made me spill the coffee, therefore they should clean it up. But they won't."

"Oh, please. We didn't make you spill the coffee," Latvia protested loudly. "That's ridiculous."

Estonia began to argue back with Latvia, before Ukraine stomped her foot lightly and demanded, "Quiet!"

The two teenagers obeyed. Ukraine stood with her hands on her hips then, her face angry as she turned to Estonia. "Latvia and Moldova pulled a prank on you and made you spill a cup of coffee," she repeated crossly. "Yeah, I really believe they did that."

"But the—" Estonia began to say before Ukraine interrupted again.

"They act like they didn't do it," she said. "Especially Moldova. Look at him! How could you blame a little kid for such a thing?"

The group turned their eyes toward the said boy, who had his arms folded, eyes widened, and lips pouted, looking as innocent as ever (even though he'd been a more-than-willing accomplice, of course).

"But!—" Estonia said, before sighing, deciding it was pointless. Then, Ukraine went to the laundry room, picked up a mop and a bucket, walked back, and handed it toward Estonia. The bespectacled blond sighed again, taking it and going into the dining room to clean his mess. All the while Latvia was standing behind them, his hands tightly clamped over his mouth to avoid rolling on the floor in laughter. Moldova stayed just as he was, analyzing this interaction curiously and carefully.

Ukraine stood in the doorway between the living room and the dining room, watching Estonia. In the living room, Moldova watched Latvia closely. "Are you about to laugh?" he asked, tilting his head a little to the side as he looked up at the teen.

Latvia took his hands away for a brief moment, biting his lip, before nodding vigorously.

Moldova paused for a few moments, still staring at Latvia, before asking, "Is it as funny as when you put that spicy sauce in Sestra's soup?"

Moldova had said that loudly, loudly enough for Ukraine herself to hear; the woman turned around slowly, giving Latvia the same look she'd just given Estonia a few minutes prior.

Latvia stared ahead in absolute shock, feelings of dread mixed with anger simmering through him. Oh. My. God. Moldova truly hadn't learned anything, had he?

»»————-　➴　————-««

Soon enough, Latvia was in the dining room alongside Estonia, helping him clean the mess on the floor—it had gotten practically everywhere, apparently (how much coffee did Estonia seriously drink?) and it was very sticky. So, in short, it was not too fun to clean up. There was also the newspaper to worry about, which had its papers scattered all across the floor too.

And where was Moldova at that moment? Sitting at the dining room table, munching on a batch of cookies Ukraine had baked for him and drinking cold milk. A long milk mustache got caught on his top lip more than once, with every time Ukraine quickly dashing over to clean it up with a napkin.

Fun for him, Latvia thought sarcastically as he swept his mop through another stain. Whatever happened to partners in crime? He guessed telling the truth and mint chocolate cookies tasted more appetizing.

#hetalia #hetaliaplatonicshipsweek #hetalia event #hetalia fanfiction #fanfiction #aph latvia #aph moldova #hws latvia #hws moldova

[paintingwithdarkness]

"i run the night slot on campus radio and some jackass keeps calling in to insult my music taste and request high school musical songs instead” with BluePulse please!

“Good evening, Tigers! You’re listening to Houston U’s nightly segment. I’m your host, Jaime Reyes. Y’all just listened to ‘Today is the Day’ by Yo La Tengo. Next up we have ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes.” Jaime pressed a button on the console in front of him, starting the next song before adding on to his commentary. “If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to call in!”

Jaime switched off his microphone and let the song play, flopping back in his chair. Running the night segment of the Houston University campus radio was a pretty chill gig. It paid him above minimum wage for every hour he worked, he only had to work six hour shifts, and it was only five days a week. Besides that, it was a solo job, and no one was there to tell him what to do. Obviously there had been some ground rules when he’d been hired— no cursing on air, and he had to take call-ins from students— but other than that, he had free rein of the radio frequency and he could play whatever music he wanted from 6 pm to Midnight, Monday through Friday. All he had to do was press buttons on a control console, sit back, relax, and occasionally answer the phone.

Speaking of which... Jaime checked the time. 10:28 pm. Great, that meant it was almost time.

With a groan, he raised a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, eyes squeezing shut. Every night for the past two weeks at exactly 10:30 pm, without fail, the same jackass student had been calling in to insult his music taste and request High School Musical songs instead. The first time it had happened, Jaime had been shocked at the audacity of the student, but had granted the song request anyway. (He had to. It was part of his contract. If a person called in with a song request, Jaime had to grant it. The only exception was if someone requested a song that was inappropriate to air. As long as it had clean/sensored language, and was free from overly explicit themes, Jaime queued up the song).

He mentally prepared himself. ‘Seven Nation Army’ was just about over, and Jaime already had his next song selected. If he timed things right, he could take the annoying student’s call during the next song, and wouldn’t have to subject himself to humiliation where everyone who was listening to his station could hear. It had only taken Jaime three nights to catch onto the trend.

As the guitar faded out, Jaime switched back on his microphone and addressed his audience, “That one’s a classic. ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. Hope y’all enjoyed that one. I’ve got a few more songs in store for y’all with the time we have left-”

The tell-tale ring of the phone interrupted him. Jaime had to bite his tongue to prevent the string of Spanish curses that wanted to fall from his lips from actually coming out. He had spent too long talking, and now he had to take the dreaded call on-air.

He took a deep breath, and had to layer on the enthusiasm thick as he ‘cheerily’ exclaimed, “It looks like we have our first caller of the night!” Jaime picked up the phone and gave the scripted greeting, “Hello, fellow Tiger! You’re on-air with Houston U’s nightly segment. Care to introduce yourself to all the listeners out there?”

Like all the nights previous when Jaime had asked this question, he got the same response. “Nah. I think I’ll stay anonymous. Keep things interesting. Though if you want a clue, I’ll tell you; I’m on the track team.”

Jaime scrambled for his notebook. That was the biggest clue he’d gotten yet about this mysterious student caller. It was almost like some kind of game. So far, every night when this student had called in, they’d said they wanted to remain anonymous, yet would give a clue about their identity. So far, Jaime had a bulleted list of eight items, with ‘track team’ being number nine. The other clues he’d received were ‘hates Indie Rock’ (which was Jaime’s favorite genre of music, thank you very much), ‘favorite movie is High School Musical 2’ (which was blatantly obvious, based on the songs this jackass student always requested), ‘favorite color is red’ (which told Jaime squat about who this kid was), ‘favorite food is chicken whizzes’ (once again, jack shit), ‘red hair’ (which was the first major clue Jaime had gotten), ‘green eyes’ (now it was obvious the kid wanted Jaime to figure out who he was), ‘5’9”’ (somewhat helpful), ‘Freshman’ (which eliminated 3/4 of the students on campus this caller could be), ‘mechanical engineering major’ (another somewhat helpful clue), and ‘gay’ (which, wow, Jaime would never out himself live on the air. This guy had some balls...).

After the mad scramble for a pencil, Jaime flipped the notebook open and single-handedly jotted down the new piece of information, balancing the phone against his ear with the other hand. When he was finished, he leaned back in the big leather chair, kicking his feet up against the edge of the desk in front of himself, feeling satisfied. Jaime knew he had enough information now to track down this annoying student and put an end to these stupid calls interrupting his radio show every night. Tonight would be the last time ‘We’re All in This Together’, ‘Bop to the Top’, or ‘Get Your Head in the Game’ would play during his segment, and Jaime was RELIEVED.

“Is that why you feel the need to call into my show every night?” Jaime fired back at the student. “So you can rope all of your track mates into singing ‘We’re All in This Together’ while you run in circles?”

An airy laugh was the response. And there a slight second where Jaime thought to himself, ‘Wow. That’s actually kinda cute,’ before his brain rebooted and he realized how counterintuitive that was. This guy was an annoyance that had to be dealt with. So what if he had an attractive laugh? It didn’t erase all of the other judgements Jaime had already formed of this student. And they were that this guy had terrible music taste and needed to find another hobby besides calling in every night to bug the shit out of Jaime.

“What better song to commemorate mutual suffering?” The other man laughed again.

Jaime scowled. ‘Mutual suffering’? Sure, Jaime knew the vexing student was talking about his track mates, but he couldn’t help catching the irony in the choice of words. As far as Jaime was concerned, the only one doing any suffering was him.

“So is that your request for tonight?” Jaime just wanted to get this over with already.

A contemplative “hmmm” made its way down the line, before being followed with, “Well, I was originally gonna ask for ‘Get Your Head in the Game’ but ‘All in this Together’ works nicely, too.”

“Por Díos,” Jaime mumbled under his breath. “¿No puede este idiota tomar una decisión?”

“Woah, hey, is that Spanish?!” Apparently Jaime’s mumblings hadn’t been quiet enough. “Yo hablo español!”

Jaime cringed. The pronounciation was terrible, but the enthusiasm was endearing. And dammit! He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. His train of thought was off the tracks again.

Without saying anything else, Jaime turned to his computer, quickly punched ‘We’re All in this Together’ into the song search bar, and hit play. He switched over the audio connection so that the only thing his audience could hear was the music, took a deep breath, and then made his rebuttal to the annoying student.

“You might want to work on that pronounciation, ese.”

The response was whiny. “Aww, it’s not that bad!”

Jaime cringed. “It’s not great, either.”

The student on the other line sighed. “Fine. But at least I have good taste in music!”

“That’s debatable.” Jaime didn’t know why he was dragging out the conversation. Usually after he granted this annoying caller’s request each night, the student rattled off a final jab at Jaime, before just hanging up. Why was he staying on the line tonight? Maybe Jaime just had to direct the conversation in that direction?

“My music is better than what you play every night. I’m doing you and your radio station a favor!” And yep, there it was.

“I don’t think people are tuning into my station to listen to the one High School Musical song you insist I play every night.”

Jaime could practically hear the smirk through the line when the other student responded. “Even if people are tuning in to listen to your crappy music, my song is still the highlight.”

Jaime groaned. He was growing weary of this conversation. “Do you listen to anything besides terrible High School Musical songs?”

That cute laugh caught in Jaime’s ears again. “Doi. A guy needs to have a little variety in his music. I’ve also got ‘Can’t Stop Singing’, ‘Turn Up the Music’, ‘Determinate’-”

Jaime’s eyes rolled skyward. “I’m gonna stop you there. Does your playlist contain any songs that aren’t from Disney Channel movies?”

A horrified gasp marked the beginning of the indignant response. “What’s wrong with Disney movies? High School Musical is the crashest movie series in existence.”

Jaime didn’t have enough time to think over the choice of the word ‘crashest’ before the other student continued rambling on.

“What other kind of music do you need?! Disney movies have great numbers, teach you about life and friendship, and growing up, and you gotta be kidding me if you don’t think Zac Efron is hot playing Troy.”

Jaime snorted a laugh for the last amendment to the other student’s statement. He’d only watched High School Musical once, and that was enough for him. And despite occasionally finding other men attractive (being bisexual himself), Zac Efron had never really done it for Jaime.

“I wouldn’t exactly call those ‘musical numbers’ as you put it, any type of masterpiece, however, I suppose you earn a pass for the friendship and growing up part.” Jaime smartly decided to skip the Zac Efron comment altogether, “I would say I’m more of a fan of the Disney animated movies. At least I can tolerate the Lion King and Aladdin sound tracks.”

A little puff of a chuckle, and then, “You should really get a better hobby than bashing on Disney movies.”

Jaime scoffed and immediately fired back, “You’re the one who calls me every night to bash on my music.”

“Oooh.” The other student made a hissing sound, as if a flame were being extinguished. “Caught red handed. But—” And here, Jaime could sense something dangerous was about to be said— “how about we settle this once and for all. You obviously don’t get out of the radio studio enough. What say you come to the next Houston U track meeting? We can settle this music debate once and for all.” Yep. That was a challenge.

Jaime took a few seconds to deliberate. He was curious to see who this mysterious caller was. Besides, what harm could it do? Jaime was not the type to back down when he was challenged. He had his pride and dignity. He would not be bested by this asshole. He was going to go to that track meeting.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, ese.” If the other student were there in person, Jaime could imagine shaking his hand to seal the contract.

“Alright,” the other student said, and if Jaime wasn’t mistaken, he sounded rather gleeful that Jaime had taken the bait, “I’ll see you there.” And then the line went dead.

Jaime ran a hand through his hair as he hung up the phone with the other. What had he gotten himself into?

The next Houston U track meeting was a week and two days since the fated phone call. Since that night, the mysterious student caller hadn’t rung Jaime’s radio station. It was a power move, and a good one at that. He had put the ball in Jaime’s court (or passed him the baton? That was a track thing, right?), meaning all responsibility was on him. In all honesty, Jaime was tempted to skip out on their ‘deal’. Sure, he’d agreed, but only because Jaime’d thought it was the key to get the student to stop calling. Now that the calls had stopped, Jaime saw no reason to get involved and draw attention back to himself. Maybe if he didn’t go, the annoying student would just leave him alone.

On the other hand, if he didn’t go, wouldn’t that just give the other student more incentive to start calling him again? Not only would Jaime continue to get bashed for his music taste, but then the other student would also be able to expose him as a liar. That was definitely NOT the reputation Jaime wanted to have. He had no choice. He HAD to go to that stupid track meeting.

It didn’t mean he didn’t drag his feet the whole way to the field though. Even with his ticket and getting there five minutes early, it was near impossible to find a seat. Jaime had no idea a sporting event like track would be so popular. What was so special about a bunch of guys running around in a circle?

It took a little shoving and some mumbled “sorry”s and “excuse me”s before Jaime was finally able to plunk down next to a young couple, in one of the only empty seats left. They seemed like nice enough people; the man even tried making small talk with him once Jaime sat down; but Jaime’s shy demeanor prevented the conversation from launching into something deeper.

Once the couple was no longer paying him much attention, Jaime surreptitiously slipped his little pocket notebook out of his jeans and flipped it open to the page where he had noted all of the little clues his mystery caller had given him.

Unfortunately, only some of them were usable in this context. Clues about the other student’s personality and preferences wouldn’t help Jaime identify anyone. Only the clues the track star had given Jaime about his physical appearance would be of use. He was looking for a redheaded, green-eyed, 5’9” Freshman. Should be simple enough.

When Jaime glanced down to where the runners were stretching by the starting blocks, he immediately noticed three boys with red hair. Luckily, this track meet was only a Houston U event and other schools weren’t participating. That meant one of the three was his mysterious caller.

From this distance, Jaime couldn’t judge eye color, and height was difficult to gage. He supposed he would have to wait for the announcers to give the names and grades of the competitors. Hopefully only one of the redheads would be a Freshman, and Jaime could find his culprit.

Within a few minutes, a runner was at the blocks for every lane. The first event was the 100m sprint. Everyone on the team would be participating. Only six could go at a time, and the announcer said that there would be three heats. Unfortunately for Jaime, the announcer didn’t bother with the names of the competitors since everyone was running, but he hoped that at least the winners would be announced, in case his redhead happened to be one of them.

In the first heat, two of the three red-haired boys were lined up at the blocks. Jaime trained his eyes on them. The first boy was in the second lane, and the other in the sixth lane. Hopefully one of the two would win so that Jaime could narrow down his suspects.

When the starting gun fired, all six runners took off like rockets. The pure speed was quite a shock for Jaime to witness. Within fifteen seconds, all six runners crossed the finish line.

“Winner!” The announcer shouted, once first place for the heat had been determined. He held up the arm of one of the redheads Jaime had been watching. “Senior Wally West with a time of 10.8 seconds!”

An elderly couple three seats over from where Jaime was sitting sprang out of their seats cheering. “Yeah, Wally!” shouted the man. His wife was enthusiastically clapping.

When they sat down again, the couple next to Jaime (conveniently sandwiched between him and the cheering couple) turned to face them.

“Wow!” the blond man next to Jaime exclaimed. “That’s his fastest time yet!”

The other blond man laughed (and it was then that Jaime noticed the striking resemblance). “He’s been working hard. Of course, he’s no match for Bart, but just maybe Wally might have a shot at beating him in the 3200m.”

The brunette woman of the younger couple hummed, a smirk resting on her lips. “I don’t know about that one. Our Bart’s got Thawne blood, too. He’s got runners from both sides. Wests... not so much.”

“Mel!” the man next to Jaime gasped, scandalized. “I thought we said no family rivalry at track meets?”

Immediately the brunette woman, Mel, appologized. “Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s right,” the man from the elderly couple interjected. “You have to remember Donny’s got some West blood himself. Iris was a West before she married me.” He slung an arm around the graying red-haired woman sitting beside him.

It was then that Jaime was able to piece it together. The young blond man— Donny— sitting next to him, was the son of the elderly couple— Iris and her husband (unfortunately Jaime didn’t have his name yet). The younger brunette woman— Mel— was Donny’s wife, and one of the runners— Bart— was their son, and the grandson of the elderly couple. Wally— the runner who had just won the first heat was a relative (?) of the two couples.

By the time Jaime was done puzzling out the relations, the next heat of runners was already at the starting blocks. Unfortunately, the other redhead, whom Jaime guessed was Bart, was not in this heat.

The starting gun fired, and the race was over within fifteen seconds again. The winner was announced, and the runners of the third heat took their places.

Jaime’s gaze zeroed in on the redhead in the first lane. That must be Bart. Mel and Donny were balanced on the edges of their seats next to Jaime.

As soon as the gun fired, Bart was nearly a quarter of the way down the lane. He was insanely fast. Jaime wouldn’t be surprised if he hit an Olympic time. His teammates stood no chance.

When he was announced the winner, Jaime had to do a double take at the 9.63 second time blinking on the screen behind him. That was more than a second faster than Wally, who had won the first heat.

“‘Attaboy, Bart!” Donny yelled.

The exclamation caused Bart’s attention to be drawn towards them. He waved proudly at his parents, and then his gaze caught on Jaime. Even from this distance Jaime could see the electric green eyes trained on him. There was no mistaking it now. Even with the other redhead to consider (since Jaime hadn’t heard his name or grade announced yet), he was certain Bart was his mystery caller. There was something in his eyes— a knowing glint— that made Jaime nervous. Could Bart know who he was?

It wasn’t completely impossible. Because he ran the campus radio at night, Jaime had a page on the school website. His name and picture were plastered right along side Cassie and Gar’s. Cassie had the morning shift from 6 am to noon, and Gar’s comedy segment ran from noon to 6 pm, when Jaime started. All Bart had to do was look him up and he would know exactly who Jaime was.

In retrospect, Jaime easily could have done the same to figure out who his annoying caller was. Once he’d received the track team clue, he could have pulled up the roster and narrowed his suspects down. He could have ruled out Wally because he was a Senior, and possibly even the other redhead based on his year. The announcer had said that Bart was a Freshman when he’d announced him as a winner, so Jaime figured he was the most likely of the three to be the caller. He matched all of the physical descriptors.

There were two more sprinting events that followed, each doubling the distance of the previous. After witnessing the 100m event, Jaime wasn’t surprised when Bart came in first for the 200m and 400m. It was honestly impressive. Bart was talented both in the art of running and annoying Jaime over phone calls. Truly difficult feats.

Once the sprinting events were finished, the competitors moved onto the field. Unlike the sprinting events, some members of the team sat out. Jaime noticed only six members of the team were participating. Two for discus, two for shot put and two for javelin. Neither Bart nor Wally was one of the six. The other redhead on the other hand, was lined up at the javelin throwing line.

Jaime paid him little mind. As soon as the announcer introduced him as a Senior, Jaime tuned out completely. Now there was absolutely no doubt whatsoever. Bart was his mystery caller.

While the field events took place, Jaime watched Bart stretching out on the side of the track. He was surprisingly limber. And Jaime had nothing to blame but the part of his mind attracted to men when he watched Bart bend over in his running shorts to stretch out his hamstrings. He had really nice legs, among... other things.

Jaime shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. He’d come here to put Bart in his place because of the annoying phone calls. Not admire his amazing calves.

When the field events were over, some members of the team moved back onto the track for the hurdle events. Again, Bart was not amongst them.

“He doesn’t do hurdles either?” Jaime accidentally mused aloud.

Donny turned to look at him. “First track meeting?” he asked, kindly.

Jaime felt a blush crop up on his cheeks. He hadn’t meant for his comment to be out loud.

“Yeah,” he admitted, despite his embarrassment.

Donny gave him a smile. “They each only do one event plus the sprints. You’ve got the three field events, hurdles, and long distance.”

“Oh.” Jaime nodded to show he understood.

Donny outstretched his hand. “I’m Don.”

Jaime shook Bart’s father’s hand. “Jaime,” he returned.

When Don took his hand back, he used it to point to his wife. “This is my wife, Meloni.”

The brunette woman waved at him.

“And my parents, Barry and Iris.” He gestured at each member of the older couple as well.

Jaime ducked his head shyly. “Nice to meet you all.”

The pop of the starting gun drew their attention back to the track where the hurdlers had just taken off from the blocks. Jaime watched on in interest, amazed at the skill that had been displayed today. He’d never imagined a track meet being this entertaining.

After a few moments, Don turned back to him. “Who’re you here for?” He pointed down at the track members surrounding the edge of the rubberized circle, cheering on their participating teammates.

Jaime felt that blush bloom on his cheeks again. Should he be honest? He was sitting right next to Bart’s parents. What if they started asking questions he didn’t have the answers to?

“Uh, I-I’m here for Bart.” He didn’t really have any other options. He didn’t know the names of any of the other track members.

Donny’s green eyes suddenly lit up. “Bart didn’t tell us his boyfriend was coming! It’s quite a coincidence we ended up sitting next to one another!”

Jaime gave a hard blink, processing the sentences that had just exited the blond man’s mouth. “Uh, we’re not-”

Meloni cut him off. “Oh! You’re the one who runs the campus radio! I knew your name sounded familiar. Bart talks about you all the time!”

The first thought that went through Jaime’s mind was, ‘Does he now?’. There was no mistaking it. Bart was 100 percent the annoying student who called into his radio segment each night. And Bart knew who he was. As soon as this track meeting was over, Jaime was definitely going to have some words with him.

“It’s so nice to finally get to meet you!”

Jaime didn’t know whether he should burst their bubble. Don and Meloni seemed like genuinely good people, and they were happy for their son having seemingly found a relationship. Although their assumptions weren’t true, Jaime knew he would feel extremely bad telling them otherwise.

Luckily, there wasn’t much time for him to dwell on the subject. As soon as the winners for the hurdling events were determined, the obstacles were cleared off the track and the next set of runners were lining up at the starting blocks. Two heads of red hair immediately caught Jaime’s attention. Bart and Wally were lining up in lanes one and two, while a few more of their track mates joined them in the other lanes.

“Who do you think it’ll be this time?” Barry posed the question aloud.

“I think Bart’s got a running shot.”

Everyone groaned at Don’s poor-quality joke.

“I apologize on my husband’s behalf,” Meloni mostly addressed Jaime, “What he meant was that Bart’s been working on his pacing. He’s the fastest on the team, and has always taken first in all of the sprinting events, but Wally always gives him some good competition for the long distance stuff.”

Jaime nodded thoughtfully. Bart had definitely been fast; no doubt about that. But he was curious to see how he would do in an event that required more endurance. Apparently he would actually have some competition this time, unlike in the sprinting events where Bart had left all of his teammates in the dust.

When the starting gun fired, Jaime found himself actually holding his breath. This first distance was 1500m, just shy of a mile. Jaime could remember having to do the one mile run in P.E. back in high school and how much of a pain it had been. The best time Jaime had ever gotten was just over six minutes.

For the first lap or so, Wally and Bart were neck and neck. The rest of their teammates were about half a lap behind. Then, when they went into the second lap, Bart kicked it up a notch, pulling ahead. Wally kept his own even pace, a schooled look of determination set over his features, while Bart’s lips transformed into a confident smirk.

By the final lap, Bart and Wally were shoulder to shoulder again. It was clear that Wally had the superior skill when it came to pacing, as he had been able to keep the same speed the whole time, whereas Bart’s speed had varied in spurts, depending on his level of endurance. It was unclear which one of them was going to win.

When Jaime looked around at the stands, he could see fans eagerly debating which one of the redheads they thought was going to win. The general consensus seemed to be Wally, but Jaime had a feeling his High School Musical-song-loving caller had a trick up his sleeve.

When they reached the last 100m or so of the race, the stadium burst into cheering, each person of the audience shouting encouragement to their respective runner. Against all odds, and to the surprise of many, Bart burst into a full out sprint, easily overtaking Wally, and crossing the finish line with an enthusiastic whoop.

Jaime was absolutely shocked to say the least. After running three laps, how had Bart found the energy for that last burst of speed?

A time of 4.02 minutes flashed on the screen behind them as the announcer proclaimed Bart the winner. Meloni and Don broke into cheers beside Jaime, and Barry and Iris clapped as well to show their support. Even Jaime found a small smile working it’s way onto his lips as he clapped, in awe of the impressive speed Bart had just displayed.

There was a few minutes between events while the results of the race were recorded and the next set of runners lined up at the starting blocks. Again, both Bart and Wally were among the competitors. This time, the distance was more than double what they had just run at 3200m. Jaime was curious to see how Bart would hold up against the longer distance.

When the starting gun fired, all of the runners took off as a group, rather than Bart and Wally distinguishing themselves from the pack right away. With eight laps to go, Jaime supposed it made sense. No point in going all out during the first half of the race, only to burn out when it really mattered. Bart and Wally would probably wait until the final few laps to burst ahead of their teammates.

Around and around the track they went, keeping pace with one another until the sixth lap. As soon as they passed the starting line, all of the runners kicked it up a notch, and gaps between the competitors became more noticeable. As expected, Wally and Bart pulled ahead of everyone else, and chatter broke out amongst the crowd about which redhead it would be this time.

Barry and Iris seemed to have their money on their nephew (Jaime had finally pieced it together when Barry made the comment about Iris being a West before marriage), whereas Don and Meloni, being the proud parents they were, were betting on their son to come out on top. Jaime couldn’t help being biased, and was also rooting for Bart. After all, he was the whole reason Jaime was at this track meet to begin with.

Bart was giving his all. Halfway into the last lap, he was ahead of Wally by a few steps. It seemed like he had the win in the bag. Then out of nowhere, Wally pulled the same stunt Bart had last time.

Jaime could see Bart do a double take when his cousin passed him, but there was nothing he could do. Bart’s strength was his speed; not endurance. He was only able to give about 80 percent, whereas Wally had paced himself better, and could pour 100 percent of his speed into the last leg of the race.

While Jaime was disappointed to see Bart take second, he was still impressed overall. Wally had beat Bart by two seconds, but Bart had beat the rest of his team by nearly ten seconds, meaning he and Wally had had quite an impressive lead.

Barry, Iris, Don and Meloni were engaged in a chat about the outcome of the latest race, but Jaime found his eyes glued to his not-so-mysterious (anymore) caller. Despite losing the last event, Bart seemed to be a good sport. He and Wally were standing on the sidelines, getting a quick drink and catching their breaths before the final event was set to start. Between gulps of water, Jaime could see the cousins teasing one another, egging each other on, and hyping one another up for the competition of the next race.

When they were called over to the track for the last event, Bart elbowed Wally in the ribs with a cocky smirk on his face, and Wally retaliated by pulling the smaller man into a headlock to ruffle his hair. Jaime didn’t quite know what to make of it, other than that Bart seemed to have a cocky, playful personality. It explained why he had been so adamant about playing the stupid identity game he had roped Jaime into over the phone during his radio segments each night.

The last distance was 5000m, or approximately 12 laps. Just thinking about that much running made Jaime want to cry. Needless to say, he wasn’t a huge fan of running. Other sports, sure, but running was not something Jaime enjoyed for himself. He would have to give massive kudos to Bart for having enough dedication to running to put himself through the 12 lap race.

Again, all of the runners stayed in a pack for the majority of the race. By about lap eight, it was clear who the real endurance runners were. The six competitors had spread out, a few feet behind one another, with Wally leading. There was a black-haired guy on his heels, and following behind him were Bart and another black-haired runner, a little shorter than the man in front of him. Two more runners were taking up the rear.

Laps nine, ten and eleven passed without much change. It wasn’t until they got into the final lap that Bart mustered the energy to pull ahead of his two black-haired teammates and take up the trail behind his cousin.

Wally’s winning time of fourteen minutes and two seconds flashed up on the scoreboard, followed by Bart’s time of 14.08. Jaime almost had to do a double take. When he calculated the math, it meant Bart had averaged a time of approximately a minute and eleven seconds per lap, and Wally had been faster still!

While the judges and officials were confirming the results of all of the events that had taken place, the stadium around Jaime burst to life as audience members began to make their exit down to the track to meet with and congratulate the athletes they had come to support. Beside him, Don, Meloni, Barry and Iris stood from their seats and gathered up their belongings, preparing to go congratulate Bart and Wally on their wins in today’s events.

“You should come with us, Jaime,” Meloni suggested when Jaime didn’t stand up with the rest of them.

Immediately, a stone sank in the college student’s stomach. What would Bart think if he saw Jaime with his parents? He and Bart hadn’t even met yet. How would Jaime be able to explain if Bart’s parents brought up the boyfriend issue?

Reluctantly, Jaime got up to follow the two couples down to the track. He was sweat-dropping. He really hoped Bart’s parents wouldn’t make things awkward.

As soon as he was in range, Don slung an arm around his son’s shoulders, congratulating him on his multiple wins. Meloni also smothered Bart in a hug when she got her opportunity, cooing over how well he had done. Beside them, Barry and Iris were doing much of the same to their nephew, expressing their awe of Wally’s endurance in the long-distance events. Meanwhile, Jaime stood awkwardly by, waiting for a chance to hopefully have a chat with his not-so-mysterious caller.

When the Allens finally separated from their son, Jaime locked eyes with Bart. There was a glint in those green irises that Jaime couldn’t place. It wasn’t good or bad per say; Jaime could only describe it as making him feel on edge, ready to tip one way or the other.

As soon as Meloni noticed the stare between the two boys, she immediately turned on Bart, much to Jaime’s horror.

“Bart! Why haven’t you introduced us to your boyfriend? He’s such a handsome young man.” She used an insistant hand to push Jaime forward, so much so that he almost stumbled and fell into the chest of his supposed “boyfriend”. Luckily, Bart’s hands came up and caught him by the biceps before that could happen.

Both his and Bart’s eyes widened. Pink burned hot on each of their cheeks. Jaime took a quick step back. He felt like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Well?” Don goaded. “Don’t be shy! I’m glad to see my son’s finally been able to put the Allen-family charm to use! How long have you two been together?”

Jaime could feel the color in his cheeks getting darker by the second. Bart was still giving him this weird look, as if it weren’t his parents who had instigated this whole conversation in the first place. The prolonged awkward eye contact was making Jaime uneasy, and he was tempted to just speak up and shut down Bart’s parent’s idea about him and their son being in a relationship, but before he had the chance, Bart was clearing his throat to speak.

The track star raised a hand to the back of his neck, and Jaime had to do a double-take at the innocent “embarrassed” façade he was now putting on. “Well,” he said, playing bashful, “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, Babe.”

Jaime’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates upon hearing the pet name. Bart was just going to go along with this?!

Without preamble, the redhead slung his arm around Jaime’s shoulders, crushing him into his side in a display of “affection” for his parents’ benefit. “Jaime’s a little shy,” Bart said, when Jaime failed to fill in the silence. “He wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I’m actually a little surprised he came to the track meet today.”

Bart subtly bumped Jaime’s hip with his own, which was a cue for him to talk. It took a moment for the raven-haired boy to scramble for a response. He would play along... for now.

“I had to see if you were as good as you were making yourself out to be,” Jaime had noticed Bart’s encoded message; he hadn’t expected Jaime to take his phone call seriously and show up. Jaime was giving his own back in return (I had to discover who the annoying caller was).

Bart chuckled. “Would I ever lie to you?”

Jaime had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Now the guy was just laying it on thick.

“Of course not, Chiquito.” The pet name came out from behind clenched teeth.

Luckily, Mel and Donny seemed to buy their act. When it was clear they were in the clear, Bart asked, “Mom, Dad, is it okay if I have a few minutes alone with my boyfriend?”

Meloni and Don shared a look before Don said, “Okay. But no hankey-pankey behind the bleachers!” He waved a finger at them, teasing smile in place over his lips.

Jaime felt himself going pink. “Of course not, Sir,” he managed to get out, in spite of how mixed up this situation had gotten.

Bart grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him a little ways down the track so that they were out of Meloni and Don’s hearing range. As soon as he had the opportunity, Jaime whirled on him.

“What the hell was that back there, ese?” Jaime hissed.

Bart shrugged. “They bought it, didn’t they?”

Jaime felt his eyes narrow into a glare. “Why didn’t you correct them?”

Bart did another shrug, this time with a knowing expression on his face. “It’s not like you said anything either.”

Jaime’s glare fell apart under the truthful accusation. It was his fault for not immediately shutting down the idea when Don had first brought it up to him in the stands.

Bart placed his hands on his hips and began rocking back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels. “In all honesty, I’m actually surprised you showed up.”

Jaime emulated Bart’s pose, resting a fist against his hip and gesturing with the other. “Well, I couldn’t risk you calling back during my segment tonight and accusing me of being a liar in front of my entire audience, now could I?”

Bart tilted his head in such a way that Jaime had to repress the thought of ‘Oh, that’s cute,’ before it accidentally slipped out of his mouth.

A faint pink blush rose to Bart’s cheeks. “I guess I did kind of back you into a corner, didn’t I?” He raised a hand to the back of his neck, and it was the moment that Jaime realized Bart was genuinely sorry for having done so. While he may have wanted Jaime to show up today, it was clear now that he wouldn’t have used Jaime’s absence as blackmail against him if he had decided not to show.

Not wanting Bart to feel guilty, Jaime shrugged it off. “No es gran cosa.”

A smile worked its way onto Bart’s mouth. “I have no idea what that means, but I’m guessing by the look on your face, you’re not actually all that bothered by it.”

Jaime sighed. “Well, besides inviting me here so I can tell you how much I hate granting your High School Musical requests every night, what exactly is the reason?”

Bart scoffed. “I can’t believe you had the audacity to say that to my face!” He was trying to deliver the line seriously, but the smile on his lips told Jaime that he wasn’t actually offended.

Jaime shrugged, a small smirk working its way onto his own lips. “What can I say? Disney Channel movies are cheesy, and their sound tracks are even worse.”

Bart chuckled. “Your music is too depressing. You need something more upbeat. Less lyrics about death, sad childhoods, and oppression. ‘We’re All in this Together’, right ah-me-go?”

Jaime cringed, both at Bart’s pronunciation and at the stereotypes. His music was more complex than what Bart was making it out to be. Besides, Jaime wasn’t here to argue anyway. Bart had invited him to this track meeting with ulterior motives, and Jaime was determined to figure out what they were.

“Not all of my music is depressing,” Jaime countered. “Besides, you ignored my question. Surely you had some kind of motive in inviting me here besides to just discuss your terrible music taste. I want to know what it is.” Jaime raised both eyebrows.

An unexpected pink blush rose to Bart’s cheeks, covering up the freckles sprayed like paint across his Caucasian skin. “I wanted you to notice me.” Jaime nearly missed the words, for they came out of Bart’s mouth in a whisper.

“You wanted me to notice you?” He repeated the statement, hoping for a bit of an explanation.

Bart’s blush deepened, skin in competition with his hair for reddest feature. His green eyes were piercing the ground, seemingly in an effort to burn a hole big enough to burry himself in to avoid such embarrassment. His fingers twisted harshly against one another. His whole aura had changed from the confident runner he had been on the track to nervous schoolboy.

“We’re in the same physics class.” Bart’s sneaker kicked up a puff of dirt as he ground his toe into the sand.

Jaime blinked. He’d never seen anyone like Bart in his physics class. Was he that non-observant that he had missed him?

“I-I usually sit behind you.” It sounded like Bart was struggling to admit something difficult. Usually Jaime was the shyer one in conversations, so he completely understood what it felt like having to lead a difficult conversation. But he wanted to get to the bottom of this. Bart was on the edge of a confession, and Jaime had to know what it was.

“I noticed how a-attractive—” Bart’s blush deepened yet again— “you were pretty much as soon as I laid eyes on you. I-I wanted to get to know you better, so I asked around a little. Turns out Cassie’s a mutual friend of ours. She told me a little bit about you, from working with you at the radio station, and I did a little bit of research on my own. I looked you up on the school website. I started calling in to your station. I kept asking Cassie if she could find out more about you for me. Your favorite color, food, movie... Any hobbies, or things you like. I started piecing together this picture of you in my mind, using our conversations on the phone to confirm or deny my theories about you. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was desperate for you to notice me, so I started dropping hints on the phone, hoping you would take an interest. But you didn’t. And I-I can understand if-if you don’t feel the same way but IthinkIaccidentlyfellinlovewithyou.”

Jaime blinked hard. “¿Qué?” That last bit had left Bart’s mouth in an unintelligible jumble of sounds. Had Bart just admitted he was in love with him?

When Jaime snapped out of his confusion and looked back at Bart, he saw that the track star was struggling to hold back tears. A salty droplet fell from his chin and landed on the ground between them, creating a dark spot in the dirt. His shoulders were trembling with the effort to not let out a cry.

Guilt settled hard in Jaime’s stomach, like a boulder being dropped into a lake. The aftershocks were still rippling through his system. The pieces were slowly coming together.

Bart was in love with him, and wanted the feeling to be mutual. He had called in to Jaime’s radio station, hoping that he could get Jaime to take an interest in him. He wanted Jaime to pursue him, that way he would know for sure that Jaime felt the same way. And Jaime had taken an interest; he’d just done a poor job at showing it.

Hesitantly, Jaime reached a hand forward in an effort to get Bart to look up at him. “Por favor, no llores. Lo siento, I-”

Bart took a step back, angrily wiping his tears away with his fists. “No. I-it’s stupid. I built this idea of you up in my head, and it’s probably not who you are at all. I was just desperate and wanted you to like me back. And I know that me calling you every night was probably annoying and that you probably aren’t even into guys-”

Jaime surged forward, grabbing onto the other boy’s bicep with one hand and cupping his cheek with the other, and did something that surprised himself probably even more than it surprised Bart.

Bart froze, teary eyes wide in shock as Jaime’s lips smashed against his own. He was too surprised to react.

As soon as Jaime realized what he had done, he pulled back, blushing madly. Despite his embarrassment however, he couldn’t help the truth that fell from his lips.

“I am.” When Bart still looked confused, Jaime rushed to clarify. “Into guys. Into... you. I’m bisexual.” He raised a hand to nervously rub at the short raven hairs along the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly.

Bart seemed to snap out of his stupor. “You’re into me? I didn’t think you were interested. I thought you only came today because I was blackmailing you.”

Jaime’s awkward laugh turned amused. “If you think I showed up today because of your so-called ‘blackmail’, you need a new definition for the word.” He moved his hand from his neck, slipping it into his pocket to pull out his notebook. Jaime flipped it to the page where he had taken down all of the little clues Bart had given to him over the phone and turned the book around to show it to the track star. Bart’s green eyes widened slowly as he read over all of Jaime’s scrupulously written notes.

“I wrote down everything you told me about yourself.”

Bart’s gaze slowly ascended from the page, an awed look in his eyes. Hastily, Jaime closed the notebook and placed it back in his pocket. He shifted his weight from foot to foot in consideration before finally saying, “I’d like a chance to get to know you. I want to give us—” Jaime used a finger to gesture between himself and Bart— “a chance. If that’s... crash?” He tested out the word he’d heard Bart use during a few of their phone calls.

The redhead’s face lit up like a child’s after receiving a piece of candy. “Yeah! That’s totally crash! When are you free?”

“Uh-” Jaime pulled out his phone to check his calendar, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

“Time to get this show on the road, Kiddos.” When Jaime looked up to see who the hand belonged to, he saw Bart’s father standing between them, his other hand grasping onto his son’s shoulder. “Who knows what you two would get up to if Mel and I left you alone any longer.” Don playfully shook his head, before turning the eyes Bart had inherited from him on his son. “Your mother and I were college sweethearts, too. We know what kind of things kids your age get up to.”

Both Bart and Jaime blushed at the implications.

“Dad!” Bart groaned in embarrassment.

Don chuckled, as if it were all in a day’s work embarrassing his son. He turned to Jaime. “We usually go out as a family after track meets to celebrate. Everyone’ll be there. It’s a good opportunity for Bart to introduce you to the family. If you’re up for going, Jaime?”

The raven-haired student shared a look with his boyfriend? friend? person-he-thought-was-very-attractive-but-wanted-to-get-to-know-a-little-better-before-dating? Bart shrugged.

Jaime felt put on the spot. He and Bart had just discussed the possibility of beginning a relationship, and now he was supposed to meet the ‘rents? Not that he hadn’t already, but that was beside the point. Going out for a meal with Bart’s parents, grandparents, cousin and who-knows-who-else, and having to pretend that he’s madly in love with someone he was just meeting for the first time today? This had the potential to kill any chances he and Bart had at actually beginning a real relationship.

“I’m sorry, I already have plans,” was what Jaime wanted to say. Instead, he said, “Sure. I’d love to get to meet your family, Cariño.”

“Good evening, Tigers! You’re listening to Houston U’s nightly segment. I’m your host, Jaime Reyes-”

“-and his amazing boyfriend, Bart Allen-”

Jaime had to stifle an ‘oomph!’ as his boyfriend of three glorious months slung an arm around his neck and plopped down on his lap, leaning in close to the microphone so that he could be heard, too.

“-Next up we have ‘Flourescent Adolescence’ by Arctic Monkeys-”

“-And after that, ‘I Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’ from High School Musical!” Bart slammed a finger into the ‘play’ button, starting the next song in the queue, before swinging his leg around so he could straddle Jaime’s lap and drag him into a kiss.

When they pulled apart, Jaime had a pout on his lips. “Who let you in here?” Bart wasn’t supposed to be in the studio, especially when Jaime was live on the air.

The younger smirked deviously. “Cassie might have loned me her key so that I could pay my boyfriend a visit while he was working...”

Jaime shook his head. “Of course she did.”

Bart booped his nose with a fingertip. “Don’t act so put out. You know you looooove me.”

Jaime shook his head, trying to keep a poker face. “Nope. You just tainted my reputation by saying that we’re gonna play High School Musical songs voluntarily. How could I love someone who would pull such a slanderous act against me?”

Bart poked his nose again. “You looooove me.”

Jaime shook his head. His lips threatened to quirk up into a smile. His poker face was cracking. “Nope.”

Bart hovered his lips dangerously close to Jaime’s own. “Admit it, Babe. You love me more than anyone in the world.”

Jaime’s mask crumbled. “Yeah,” he finally admitted. “Te amo con todo mi corazón.” He pulled Bart that little inch forward to kiss him again.

Unfortunately the phone cut their loving moment shorter than either boy wanted. Jaime picked it up.

“Hello, fellow Tiger! You’re on-air with Houston U’s nightly segment. Care to introduce yourself to all the listeners out there?”

“Yeah, Jaime, it’s Gar. I’m glad to hear that you finally found yourself a good partner, but next time you might want to make sure your mic is off before making any declarations of love while you’re live.”

Crimson bloomed to life across the entirety of his face while Gar hung up on the other end of the line. Immediately, the radio host leaned forward and flicked off the switch to his microphone. Jaime buried his face in his hands.

“I hate you!” He directed at Bart in an embarrassed moan.

Bart chuckled. “Nah. You looooove me.”

Here it finally is @purple--waffles! I’m so sorry it took me so long! I’ve been slowly working on it since the day your request arrived in my asks. Life is crazy, and I haven’t had a whole lot of time to write recently, but I really wanted to finish this for you. My mind ran with the prompt, and even though it took me awhile, hopefully the length makes up for it??? Maybe? Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

#young justice #yj #bart allen #jaime reyes #kid flash #impulse #blue beetle #bluepulse #asks #answers #writing requests #sorry this took me a little while to finish

[chansungies]

Tiny Giant (M)

pairing: volleyball player! Jisung x female reader

genre: tiny angst in the beginning, smut  

warnings: some swearing, jealous!jisung, possessive!jisung, some dirty talk, locker room sex, female receiving, edging, overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up kiddos), soft dom!jisung, sub!reader, also hyunjin makes a tiny apperance :)

word count: 1,778

a/n: yeah i got inspo from haikyuu :)

————————————🏐—————————————

24-24.

Your eyes move from the scoreboard to scan the court below you looking for the tiny ace, your ears heard him before your eyes saw him. Jisung had belched out a roar over successfully spiking the ball through the wall of hands trying to block him.

“Nice job, Jisung!” The team cheered with bright smiles on their sweaty faces. He nods, a smirk plastered on his face and they rotate putting Jisung in the back to serve.

The tension in the auditorium is at its highest knowing that if Jisung messes up now, it’s game over and they lose the tournament.

Other words of encouragement are thrown out to calm him down and not to overthink his serve. You find yourself biting your nails in anticipation as he throws the ball up, takes a quick few steps, and SMACK! You follow the ball closely as it goes over the net and someone for the opposite team receives it handing it straight to their setter. They all wait carefully, their eyes trained on the opponents anticipating how they’ll attack.

The other team starts running up towards the net all together in a synchronized attack. They all jump up in unison and someone from the way back comes out of nowhere and spikes the ball. Time seems to slow down, everyone’s holding their breath as they’re watching the ball hit the net and fall back on the opponent’s side. There’s a quick moment of silence before the whistle blows and ref holds up the flag.

25-24. They won.

Not even seconds later the crowd went wild with whistles and hollers. You could feel the tears to swell in your eyes and you have the biggest grin on your face. You make eye contact with Jisung sending him a wave and a thumbs up. Grinning up at you his eyes are sparkling in the bright lights and you want nothing more than to rush down there and tackle him in a bear hug. Your little moment is ruined by his teammates gathering around him and then proceeding to pick him chanting “Tiny giant!” You can see the tears threaten to spill from the team’s eyes and the coaches as they toss him into the air. You see Jisung’s eyes go wide in a slight panic which makes you giggle.

You watch them receive their award and listen to the emotional speeches from the soon to be graduates, thanking them for the wonderful year they’ve had and for letting them play volleyball for as long as they could. Everyone’s a sobbing mess at this point but they all have smiles on their faces, while others awkwardly laugh not knowing how to handle their emotions quite yet. It a warm feeling seeing them all like this.

They exit the court after a bow to fans in the stands and mighty “Thank you for coming!” following close after. You make your way down the stairs waiting patiently for Jisung to be done in the locker room. You see them all file out one by one but Jisung. You furrow your eyebrows and stand on your tippy-toes attempting to look over the giant players’ heads, when you make eye contact with one of his friends, Hyunjin. He smiles and walks over to you.

“Y/N!” He greets you with a dazzling smile and soaking wet blonde hair.

You smile back, “Hyunjin! Congratulations!” You squeal and go to give him a small hug. He chuckles hugging you back. “Thanks!”

You pull away slowly, “Hey, by the way, have you-“

There was a sudden tug on your arm as someone snaked their arm around your waist pulling you closer protectively. Glancing beside you, you noticed it was just Jisung but he had a scowl on his face as he looked up at Hyunjin. You look over at Hyunjin who is unfazed by Jisungs’ glare and you look back at Jisung smiling trying to break the tension. “Hey! I was just looking for you!” You say and poke his chest lightly.

He turns his head towards you with an emotionless expression, “Sure looks like it.” he says coldly.

You frown, “I was, but then Hyunjin came over so I congratulated him. I was just about to ask him where you were when you grabbed me.” You pull away from him annoyed. Hyunjin looks between you two and decided it was best if he leaves so he doesn’t cause any more trouble.

“I-I’ll see you guys later.” He stutters and awkwardly walks away to bother another one of his teammates.

Glaring over at Jisung you ask, “What in the hell is wrong with you?”

Jisung huffs, “What’s wrong with me? How about what’s wrong with you, you were all over Hyunjin.” He bites back.

Is he seriously jealous right now, you thought? After such an amazing win he’s jealous over you hugging Hyunjin. You can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he’s being. “Jisung, are you serious?”

Your laugh seems to fuel him ever more and he grabs your wrist dragging you to the empty locker room, pushing you against the hard wall. You’re eyes widen and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

“Is this serious enough for you, kitten.” He growls and pushes himself onto you. You feel his boner poking through his shorts and you couldn't help the whine that escapes your lips. 

He smirks bending down and planting rough, wet kisses along your neck, his breath tickling your sensitive skin. Your eyes close relishing the feeling of his lips abusing your neck with harsh sucks and tiny nibbles. You hiss and he licks over the mark to soothe it. He pulls back looking at his masterpiece and hums."Maybe we should show this to Hyunjin? Let him know you're all mine." 

He moves his lips up to yours and kisses you roughly while sneakily bringing his hand to your thigh and pushing them apart so he can rub you through your shorts. This pushes a moan out you that you couldn't hold back and you surprise him by unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts so he could get closer to where you wanted him most. 

He chuckles darkly at your actions, “Is that what you want baby? You want me to touch you?” Jisung stares into your eyes intensely and all you can do is nod your head in response. 

He shakes his head at that, “You have to tell me, use your words.” He removes his hands from your thigh and you whine. 

“Yes! Yes, please touch me Jisung.” You plead.

“Good girl.” He praises and kisses the side of your mouth before inserting his hand down your pants. Jisung rubs gentle circles over your clit making you weak in the knees. He catches you, picking you and up laying you down one of the benches, not the comfiest but better than on the floor. He continues the pleasure sliding your shorts and underwear off and inserting one of his fingers into your soaked hole while his thumb rubs over your clit. 

“You’re so wet, baby. Who makes you this wet?” He asks pushing his finger in and out of you slowly. 

“Y-you do.” 

“That’s right, I do. Only I can make you feel this good.” Jisung states and curls his finger inside you. You moan loudly and he echos across the locker room. 

“Fuck,” He groans, “Right there baby? You like that?” 

“Right there, yes, more,” You cry and bite your lip. 

Jisung adds another finger and goes faster with his movements causing you to clench around his fingers. He smirks knowing your close, your breathing is shaky and your thighs are trembling. You’re so close. Jisung then removes his fingers from inside you and you let out a whine. 

“Shhh, baby, I’ll let you cum. Just not on my fingers.” You hear the teasing in his voice and you want to get up and slap him but you’re a good girl, no back talk. You just nod with a frown on your face which makes Jisung chuckle. He kisses your frown and pulls his pants down to his ankles and positions himself over you. You watch as his dick springs up slapping against his stomach and you gulp. 

“You’re so pretty, y/n.” Jisung randomly compliments distracting you and a blush creeping onto your cheeks. 

“You’re pretty too,” You tell him and smile sweetly. 

He takes your hand in his and pushes himself into you and groans nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. “O-oh shit, y/n, so tight.” He also gives you a second to adjust but you could honestly care less about that. You grind your hips into him and he moans right in your ear. You had never heard anything more beautiful in your life. “Jisung, move, please. I- I need you so bad.” You edge him on, and that gave Jisung just the ego boost he needed to start snapping his hips in and out of you. 

“Hmmm, Sungie feels so good.” You moan gripping onto his bicep. You can see the sweat forming on his forehead and it starting to drip down his neck making him glisten. Fuck, he looked so hot. His long orange hair swaying with every thrust he gave, this was all enough to put you over the edge. 

“Oh, so so close Jisung,” You whine. 

“M-me too,” He says breathlessly, and you can tell because his thrust are getting sloppy and he’s stuttering. He lets go of your hand and brings it down to rub roughly on your clit and you feel like you’ve hit euphoria, a sudden wave of pleasure washed over you and you let out a loud moan releasing your cum all over his cock. Jisung groans and thrusts a few more times into you causing you to cringe at the overstimulation. He pulls out quickly and starts to jerk himself off over you, sliding your cum up and down his cock. He lets out a breathy moan and spills out all over your stomach. 

Jisung flops on top of you and you wrap your arms around him stroking his damp hair. He lays there for a few seconds before kissing your shoulder and getting back up sliding his shorts back on. You lay there still catching your breath when you feel Jisung hair tickle your thighs and his tongue licking up the mess you made. You shudder and squish you’re legs together capturing him in between your thighs. 

“Ugh,” You groan and scrunch your face. He giggles between your thighs and pushes your legs away from your head. 

“Freak,” You chuckle and he shrugs helping you pull your shorts back up. 

“Hold on,” he says and walks over to his locker pulling out a towel. He comes back over and wipes your stomach clean of his sticky cum. “There you go,” Jisung says barely above a whisper. You nod and sit up from the bench a smile at him. He’s looks so pretty post sex, it’s like he’s glowing.

“Congratulations, my Tiny Giant.”

#jisung smut #han jisung smut #stray kids smut #han jisung #jisung x reader #volleyball jisung #jisung fic #haikyuu #anime

[howling-harpy]

A gift from the heart

Pairing: Malarkey & Skip Rating: G

Word count: 2520 Summary: Skip and Don have a day in Paris, and they are on an important quest. [ao3]

A/N: Happy birthday @lyselkatz! This is for you, I hope it’s to your liking.

*

Skip had clearly taken his pass to Paris with a plan in mind. “You have got to help me find the perfect present for her!” he begged as soon as Don walked up to meet him, his hands crossed in a prayer that was surely blasphemous. “What is she going to do with a present at this point?” Don argued back. “You’re shipping yourself back home soon enough.” His heart wasn’t in it, not really. He was arguing more for the sake of arguing, but it was true that they had this one afternoon off and their chances of success were pretty slim.

Paris was a great place to rest and pretend to work at an airplane exhibition, the city was nearly bursting with emotion and will to go back to peacetime, and any heartsick soldier was bound to find something good to send back home to his sweetheart. Don wasn’t sure if he was trying to talk his way out of a shopping trip, or was he simply relieved about Skip’s energy and how he displayed it despite the broken arm and cuts and bruises and drawing the banter out. “With that attitude you will be very unlucky in love!” Skip declared. “My mom said that men who think of themselves as the greatest of gifts will find themselves very lonely indeed, and I plan to make the most of this mortal life and make sure that my girl has nice things!” “Fine then, since you’re the romance expert out of the two of us,” Don gave in and finally allowed a grin to spread on his face. “But what would she like to have?” “That’s why I need help,” Skip said, raising a finger to make an important point. “I’m the romance expert, yes, but small gifts are not my area of expertise.” The thought both did and didn’t make sense, but Don was past arguing over the title of romance expert and instead tried to think of the kind of gifts girls liked. His idea of a good time was an ice cream date and listening to good music, but that was something you did in person, not wrap in brown paper and ship across an ocean. “Uh… Perhaps a good record?” Don said uncertainly. That was more like something he would have liked to unwrap himself and then be delighted about how well his girl knew him, but it was a thought. “Nah, I’d get you a record,” Skip said, nudging Don’s side with his elbow, and flashed him a knowing smile. “No, this has to be a Faye Tanner-gift. I can’t give her a Don Malarkey-gift.” Don shrugged, then gestured at the streets lined with shop windows all around them. “Maybe we should ask around?” If possible, Skip brightened up even more. He seemed to be almost trembling with excitement and ready to explore the city. “That’s great! But we need some places to hit. Make it a proper mission.” Don smiled indulgently. He had had enough of missions and objectives for a lifetime, but Skip was feeling as playful as ever and he knew it was a joke, so he allowed it. “Alright, fine,” he said, then paused to think. “Let’s think some things that she likes and what she’d like to get, and then think where we’ll find it.” “Oh yes. A guest for a true love’s gift! Onwards!” Don smiled for real then. That made it sound like an adventure in a jungle or perhaps across castles and fields and forests instead of an all too real endeavour in current time with real consequences. It almost felt like they could have been friends since they were children and run wild in the woods playing adventurers and wild children. Together, they took to the streets of Paris, Don leading the way as he sometimes knew where they were and where they were going. The list of things that Faye might have liked was growing slowly: Something distinctly European, something pretty or something sweet. Something pretty would have probably been their best bet, given both could recall a dozen times a girl back home had referenced European fashion or make up, but that was quickly becoming a dead end for them. Post-war Paris was many things and there was no doubt about fashion coming back, but right then it wasn’t exactly a priority. At least not at a reasonable price. There were shops open and some driftier places sold many mismatched piles of treasures Parisian ladies had no doubt emptied from their closets while trying to make the ends meet, but Skip and Don quickly realized they didn’t know enough to make a good judgement about them. “This is just… Not Faye!” Skip huffed as they strolled down the street after the fourth shop. “She is pretty and I think she wears cute clothes too, but it’s just… Not like this.” Don didn’t know about fashion either, just of what looked pretty to him, but looking at Skip and knowing him he could imagine Faye was probably not the beauty queen type. “Okay, forget about dresses and hats,” Don thought out loud. “How about a ribbon? Or a scarf? Or jewellery?” Skip thought it over, but then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. She doesn’t really do her hair, says it gets soaked and flops down anyway, so why bother.” “Okay, so something distinctly European then.” Aside from the airplane exhibition Don was consulting at, several other local cultural exhibits were also opening. Curators at Louvre had apparently cried when their looted treasures started to return in their collection from Germany, and museums and galleries had started to open again, even if only to clean and air the premises. It seemed people missed beauty in their lives, and Don couldn’t fault them on that. They all did. Still, the only thing sold at Louvre were postcards and other souvenirs. There was a certain charm to them, and perhaps sending some cool trinket home along with perhaps some photos and a letter with loving regards would do. Faye sounded like a girl who appreciated the personal touch and the thought more than anything material, so a breeze of culture from France might be the thing they were after. There were plenty of soldiers buzzing around the museum and the park, plenty of them apparently caught by the same idea, everyone trying to decide which artwork was the most suitable one to convey one’s feelings. Skip didn’t pay too much attention to anyone there, but Don had learned to recognize plenty of soldiers by their uniform, and a familiar one drew his attention right away. “Hey! Lieutenant!” Don called out as he recognized a familiar profile and a set of broad shoulders. “Do you know what’s the best gift for your lover?” Lipton jumped in surprise when he was spoken to and nearly dropped the stack of postcards depicting some old, cracked paintings of Roman soldiers. “My what?” he asked, immediately flustered. Skip giggled and skipped over to join them. “Not yours, sir,” he cackled, the entire idea absurd, “we’re trying to find something for Faye before I go home. She will feed me to her cats if I don’t send her a nice present beforehand.” “Oh,” Lipton said and cleared his throat, awkward and jittery on the spot. He set the postcards back to the holder and turned his back to the photographs of Roman generals and Greeks in aggressive military formations. “A wise choice,” Skip solemnly advised him with a heavy nod. “I don’t think any girl will like those. You ought to pick something more… Elegant! Beautiful! Something European.” Lipton smiled politely and shrugged. “Technically Roman Empire used to cover most of the continent what we now call Europe, and what we even consider Europe varies through history.” When Skip and Don just stared at him, he became flustered again. “I… Uh, I’ve been listening to some radio programs at night,” he explained. Skip laughed again. “Getting a history lecture is just about the most boring thing I can imagine doing in bed,” he chuckled, and Don joined in for the plain amusement of the mental image. Lipton lowered his eyes and blushed scarlet. “Well, to each their own,” he allowed diplomatically while swaying on the heels of his boots.   “Sure, sir,” Don said, then reeled them back on topic. “But the gift! Skip needs a gift for Faye.” “Oh, right,” Lipton said, visibly more at ease now that the attention was turning away from him. “Well… I don’t know Ms. Tanner, but you do, so you should use that. Whatever the gift is, the most important thing is that it makes her feel like you have listened to her and know what she likes.” “Uh-huh,” Skip said, and Don nodded along. It was a wise piece of advice, but not concrete enough to actually help them. Judging by Lipton’s smile, he realized exactly the same thing and shook his head at their impatience. Don was almost ready to appoint Lipton as the new romance expert if it wasn’t for his choice of Roman art and Greek pottery. Lipton sighed. “There’s a postcard of just about every European masterpiece here. Why don’t you look at those and pick one that makes you think of her?” Even though Lipton slipped away with a postcard depicting Marcus Crassus battling the rebel leader Spartacus, his advice was actually good, and Skip and Don started browsing the many pictures of various beautiful ladies and princesses and queens. They didn’t understand about the styles or periods but trusted their own eyes to tell what was really beautiful. Momentarily Skip was taken with a painting of a golden-haired woman wrestling a large book from a brown eagle with two heads, but even if beautiful she was too distressed, and the painting was too dramatic anyway. Eventually Skip picked up a postcard depicting a fairly modest painting of a girl dressed in simple clothes and a blue scarf on her head. She couldn’t have been more than ordinary, but the longer you looked at her gentle eyes and lips parted like in a half thought out question as she looked at you over her shoulder, the more convinced you became that she was by far not only the most beautiful but also the most intriguing of all women pictured there. “This one,” Skip said as he held the card. “She looks a bit like her too.” Still, having a simple postcard wasn’t a gift yet. It was a greeting, a simple souvenir, and it needed something more, so the quest went on. “What does she like?” Don asked Skip again as they strolled through the gardens outside of Louvre. “I think that based on all your tales of your bets and highjinks all I know is what she doesn’t like, and that’s you being an idiot.” Skip threw his head back and laughed. “Maybe so! Well, let’s see… Faye likes… Me. Cats. Baseball. Homemade pies. Milkshakes. Dancing. Pretty normal stuff, I’d say.” Just a normal girl, with normal interests, she seemed to be. Don was again at loss. It was a beautiful and hot summer day, and there was a small café on the street by the garden, and just the sight of it made them both feel suddenly thirsty and their sweet tooths ache. Mostly the café was serving coffee in tiny cups, but their display was also showing signs of revival as they served cakes, flaky pastries and chocolate treats. The prices were high and there wasn’t enough to fill the display completely, but what there was looked delicious and made with great care. They got two small éclairs because they looked nice in the window and the little sign in front of the tray had the word “chocolat” in it, and with their little treats they ventured back to the streets. Don was almost used to French baked goods after three weeks in Paris, but Skip savoured his from the very first bite. It was no wonder, the soft, fluffy dough alone was a treat, but the chocolate icing that cracked softly when you bit into the pastry was perfect, and from the face he made Don could tell that Skip hadn’t expected the cream filling. Skip chewed on the éclair slowly with his head tipped back towards the sun, and for a moment Don led him by the arm because he refused to look in front of him. “If only I could send something like this back to the States for her,” Skip sighed around a mouthful. “That would solve literally all my problems. Get a box of these or those little pink cookie things and that would be it. Too bad they wouldn’t make it to the States.” “You’re right, but maybe something else might,” Don said, his eyes already scanning for another shop. “Something sweet would do nicely.” They had to try a few shops for what they were looking for, but eventually Skip managed to find a metal tin filled with hard fruit toffees in candy wrappers. The candy itself wasn’t an extraordinary delicacy like fresh pastries were, but just as important was the beautiful tin they came in. It was like two gifts in one, European candy and a new decorative tin for buttons or letters or whatever Faye fancied. It was nearing evening, and Don had an early morning ahead of him and Skip had to report back to his commanding officer too, but the quest wasn’t yet done. “Don’t forget to wrap it up nicely too,” Don reminded Skip. “Sure, the postal office will put it in brown paper, but that’s not good enough for a gift for your girl. You got to at least find a ribbon to go under the boring paper and string so that she knows you’ve thought about it.” “Good point,” Skip said. “I’m sure I’ll find someone with a ribbon to trade – even something that doesn’t belong in some another dame’s underwear set. Thanks for the tip.” “Sure,” Don said. “Should I see you back to the station?” “No, that’s okay, I’ll find my own way,” Skip said. It was sensible that way. Don’s hotel was in the opposite direction and if he were to walk with Skip, he’d triple his own walk, and Skip knew it too and wouldn’t accept such a bother. Still it felt bad to part ways before they had to since things were uncertain, a discharge and a ticket home might come at a day’s notice, and then they wouldn’t see each other again. Not being able to say goodbye loomed over Don and kept him lingering. Skip seemed to sense it from him, because he smiled and reached to gently touch his arm. “Don’t worry, we’re headed in the same direction eventually. And when we get to the States, I’ll mail you the best present you can imagine.” Don was implored to smile, and despite the melancholy played along. “Really? What’s that?” Skip grinned bright as a summer sun, spread his arms and gestured at himself.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #mun ficci

[obtusemedia]

Ranking Lady Gaga's albums, from worst to best

Being a Lady Gaga fan can be an exercise in frustration.

Gaga is far more ambitious than most popstars — I doubt we’ll ever see Ariana Grande or Ed Sheeran make an album as left-field as Born This Way or ARTPOP. But she's also far less consistent, with numerous misbegotten projects.

Gaga's undeniably successful, with five #1 hits, an Oscar and multiple iconic music videos to her name. But her messy album rollouts and tradition of underperforming lead singles make her feel like an underdog compared to the more polished, precise careers of her contemporaries like Taylor Swift, Beyoncé or Bruno Mars.

Gaga is kind of a mess. But she's our mess. This album ranking will cover some records I can't stand — albums that make me constantly hit the fast-forward button, or albums I ignore altogether. But there isn't a single record on here that wasn't a bold move. Even the "back to basics" albums made strong aesthetic choices.

So let's dive into the career of the most fascinating Millennial popstar.

#8: Cheek To Cheek (2014)

This really shouldn't count. It's a Lady Gaga album in name only. But, technically it's a Gaga album, so here we are.

I've got nothing against Gaga having fun playing Rat Pack-era dress-up with Tony Bennett. She's a theatre kid at heart, and I'm sure every theatre kid would kill to make a Great American Songbook covers record like this. It sounds like she and Tony enjoyed themselves, so I'm happy for them!

...but I'm sorry. I can't be objective about Cheek To Cheek, it's the opposite of my taste. There's only so many bland lounge ballads I can take.

BEST SONGS: I have to pick one? "Anything Goes" is cute, I guess.

WORST SONG: "Sophisticated Lady"

#7: A Star Is Born (2018)

Let me first make this clear — A Star Is Born, the movie starring Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga? It's a masterpiece. It's electrifying and tragic and I'm still upset it didn't sweep the Oscars that year. There's even a cute dog! You won't hear me say a bad word about it.

But A Star Is Born, the accompanying soundtrack? It's extremely hit-and-miss.

Yes, it includes arguably Gaga's best-ever song and one of the greatest movie hits ever written, "Shallow." And there's plenty of other great tunes in the tracklist too — "Always Remember Us This Way," "I'll Never Love Again," the "La Vie En Rose" cover.

Even the country-rock songs from Bradley Cooper (who, reminder, is not a professional singer) are mostly good! "Black Eyes" RIPS, and "Maybe It's Time" feels like a long-lost classic.

But sadly, there are so many mediocre filler tracks on this thing. The second half of A Star Is Born's hour-plus runtime (Gaga's longest!) is padded with generic songs like "Look What I've Found," "Heal Me" and "I Don't Know What Love Is." The only good one out of the bunch is the silly, intentionally-bad "Why Did You Do That?"

In the movie, these filler tracks serve a point – they're meant to show Gaga's character selling out. They work in the movie when you hear them for a few seconds and see Cooper make a drunkly disappointed scowl. But I don't want to listen to them, and sadly, they make up half the album.

In other words — A Star Is Born would've made an incredible six or seven-song EP. But as an 63-minute-long record? It's a slog.

BEST SONGS: "Shallow", "Always Remember Us This Way," "Maybe It's Time"

WORST SONG: "Heal Me"

#6: Joanne (2016)

After Born This Way and ARTPOP, I get why Gaga needed to make a more lowkey, back-to-basics album. I also understand that many of these songs have extremely personal lyrics for her.

But is a down-to-earth album what I really want from our most outré popstar? Not really.

Luckily, Joanne is better than that description suggests. Yes, there are some bland acoustic ballads and awkward hippie-era throwbacks (two styles that are really not in Gaga's wheelhouse), but there's also some Springsteen-style heartland rockers! And those go hard in the paint.

Joanne works best when Gaga works the record's dusty aesthetics into her brand of weirdo pop, like on the sizzling "John Wayne," the winking "A-YO" or the delightfully extra Florence Welch duet "Hey Girl."

The record also has "Perfect Illusion" — a glorious red herring of a lead single that sounds nothing like anything else on Joanne. It's a roided-up mixture of woozy Tame Impala production and hair metal histrionics, and it rules. It might be Gaga's best-ever lead single! (at the very least, it's her most underrated.)

And there is one slow tune that's unambiguously great: "Million Reasons," another solid Gaga lighters-in-the-air power ballad pastiche.

Despite what some Little Monsters may tell you, Joanne isn't a disaster. There's some great stuff in there, and even the worst songs are just forgettable. But it's still far from her best.

BEST SONGS: "Perfect Illusion," "Diamond Heart," "Million Reasons"

WORST SONG: "Come To Mama"

#5: Chromatica (2020)

When Chromatica was released near the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, it had been seven years since Gaga had released music in her classic gonzo-synthpop vein. I can easily picture the record serving as an "ugh fine, I'll give you what you want" response to the many Little Monsters annoyed with Gaga's half-decade of folksy ballads and Julie Andrews cosplay.

I'll say this about Chromatica — outside of The Fame Monster, it's her most consistent record. There's not a single track that's a glaring mistake. And the three singles — "Stupid Love," "911" and the triumphant Ariana Grande duet "Rain On Me" — easily stand among her best tracks.

But although "all bangers, no ballads" album sounds rad in theory, it doesn't really succeed in practice. Chromatica is solid, but it's also a very same-y record. It feels like Gaga had one really great idea for the album ('90s club music with super-depressing lyrics) and repeated it over and over and over again to diminishing results.

There are some songs that are able to separate themselves: the three singles, of course, as well as the goofy "Babylon" and "Sine From Above," the Elton John duet that's the closest Chromatica gets to a ballad. But by the end of the album, you feel more worn out than electrified.

Also — and this is probably unfair, but still — Chromatica came out just a couple months after another retro-dance blockbuster pop album: Dua Lipa's magnum opus, Future Nostalgia. That's not a flattering comparison.

BEST SONGS: "Rain On Me," "Stupid Love," "911"

WORST SONG: "1000 Doves"

#4: The Fame (2008)

Out of all of Gaga's records, The Fame is most like a time capsule. It REEKS of late '00s/early '10s pop — which isn't an entirely fair criticism, seeing as Gaga popularized that era's sleazy, synthy aesthetic. It's also not a bad thing! I don't mind a little nostalgia!

As you already know, The Fame's singles are masterworks. "Just Dance," "Poker Face," "Paparazzi" — these tracks have titanic legacies for good reason. And although it's probably the least-beloved of this album's hits, despite being a total banger, "LoveGame" should still be commended for having arguably the most Gaga lyric ever (you know, the "disco stick" line).

And even though those tracks are front-loaded on The Fame, there are some gems deeper in the tracklist. "Summerboy" is basically Gwen Stefani covering The Strokes (so obviously, it's great). "Eh, Eh" is adorable. "Starstruck" is the most 2008 song ever recorded, with aggressive Auto-Tune and Flo Rida showing up to make Starbucks jokes.

Sadly, The Fame still feels like Gaga before she became fully-formed at certain points. The back half has a number of songs that feel like generic club tracks forced by the label, and "Paper Gangsta" is one of the clunkiest songs in Gaga's catalogue.

But at the very least, the bad songs on The Fame at least serve as little nostalgia bombs for that era of pop. And the best songs are untouchable classics.

BEST SONGS: "Paparazzi," "Just Dance," "Summerboy"

WORST SONG: "Paper Gangsta"

#3: ARTPOP (2013)

For much of Gaga's career, she's been ahead of the curve. She tries something, and a year or a few years later, other popstars try something similar to diminishing results.

That doesn't just apply to the successful stuff, like Gaga's extravagant music videos inspiring many copycats from 2010-2013. It also applies to the mid-late '10s trend of legacy popstars making a controversial record with risky aesthetic or lyrical choices that backfired: reputation. Witness. Man of The Woods.

Gaga did this first, with ARTPOP — arguably the most abrasive, and bizzare major label album released by a major modern popstar. And she did it better, because unlike Swift, Perry and Timberlake, Gaga's weirdness was for real. And it was in service of some prime, hyper-aggressive bangers.

ARTPOP isn't Gaga's best work — some of her experiments on it are major misfires, from the obnoxious "Mary Jane Holland" to the bland Born This Way leftover (and Romani slur-utilizing) "Gypsy."

But when ARTPOP is on, it's ON. The opening stretch in particular, from "Aura" to "Venus" to "G.U.Y." to "Sexxx Dreams," is chaotic synthpop at its finest. Those songs took Gaga's classic sound to an apocalyptic, demented extreme, and they're fantastic.

"MANiCURE" is a great glam-rock banger, "Dope" is another classic Gaga piano ballad, the title track is some sikly-smooth dreampop; even the misguided, clunky trap anthem "Jewels N' Drugs" is bad in a hilarious, charming way!

Trust me: ARTPOP will go down in history not as a flop, but as a gutsy, underrated record from a legend. Less Witness, more In Utero.

BEST SONGS: "G.U.Y.," "Venus," "Sexxx Dreams"

WORST SONG: "Gypsy"

#2: The Fame Monster (2009)

Objectively speaking, this is probably the best Gaga album.

It's her one record with no fluff, no filler — only 34 minutes and 8 tracks, all of them stellar.

It's the record that took Gaga from "wow, this new woman is a fresh new face in pop!" to "this woman IS pop."

It's the record with her signature track, "Bad Romance," which was accompanied by arguably the greatest music video of the 21st Century. (It also has my absolute favorite Gaga track, the relentlessly catchy "Telephone.")

I don't think I need to explain what makes mega-smashes "Bad Romance" and "Telephone" and "Alejandro" great, nor the accompanying legendary deep cuts "Speechless" and "Dance In The Dark." They speak for themselves.

However — the sleek, calculated perfection of The Fame Monster, while incredible, isn't something I return to often. It's just not the side of Gaga that's my favorite. That honor would have to go to...

BEST SONGS: "Telephone," "Dance In The Dark," "Bad Romance"

WORST SONG: "So Happy I Could Die" (but it's still pretty solid)

#1: Born This Way (2011)

One of my favorite podcasts is Blank Check. The concept of the show is to analyze each movie by a famous director — in particular, those who had big success early on and then got a blank check to make whatever crazy passion project they wanted. Here's a great example: because Batman was a massive hit, Tim Burton got to make whatever Hot Topic-core movies he wanted to for decades, from Edward Scissorhands to a creepy Willy Wonka remake.

That long-winded tangent is just to say: Born This Way was Lady Gaga's blank check. By early 2011, she had conquered the pop universe, notching hit after hit after hit. Every other pop star was copying her quirky music videos. So the label let Gaga do whatever she wanted — and she didn't waste that opportunity.

Born This Way is wildly overproduced. It's both extremely trend-chasing (those synths were cutting edge at the time but charmingly dated now), but also deeply uncaring about what the teens want (I don't think Springsteen and Queen homages were big at the time). And I love every messy, overblown second of it.

From the hair-metal/synthpop hybrid opener "Marry The Night" to the majestic '80s power ballad "The Edge of Glory," Born This Way starts at an 11. And Gaga never takes her foot off the pedal for the album's entire hour-plus run time. Clanging electric guitars, thunderous synths and Clarence Clemons (!!!) sax solos collide into each other as Gaga champions every misfit and loser in the world. It's gloriously corny in the best way possible.

Born This Way is also the perfect middle ground of pop-savvy Gaga and gonzo Gaga. It doesn't go quite as hard as ARTPOP, but the hooks are stronger. And the oddball moments are tons of fun, from the sci-fi biker anthem "Highway Unicorn" to the goofy presidential-sex banger "Government Hooker" ("Put your hands on me/John F. Kennedy" might be the greatest line in pop history).

Born This Way will always be my favorite Gaga album. It's armed with nuclear-grade hooks, slamming beats, and soaring anthems. Although it's not as untouchably pristine as the Mt. Rushmore of '10s pop classics (for the record, that's 1989, EMOTION, Lemonade and, of course, Melodrama), Gaga isn't best served by meticulousness. She's proudly tacky and histrionic, and so that's what makes Born This Way an utter joy.

BEST SONGS: "The Edge of Glory," "You and I," "Marry The Night"

WORST SONG: "Bloody Mary"