was there just not a rousing song


“Come on, Derek, just let us in, okay? We can’t help you if you don’t let us in!”

Scott banged on the loft door again, the metallic clank echoing around the spacious room, but Derek did not get up to open it. Instead he stayed pressed against the wall of windows, as far away as he could possibly get.

“How would that possibly help, Scott?” he called back. “The closer you are, the worse it gets!”

Even from this distance he could still hear whispers, brushing up against his mind, thankfully indistinct enough to be ignored for the moment. Earlier, in the sorcerer’s lair, the voices had been loud and persistent and completely inescapable at close range. This was better. Obviously it wasn’t a perfect solution, but at least he was no longer hearing things he didn’t want to hear.

Normally, Derek liked to think of himself as a cautious person. Maybe not in all aspects of his life, but on the whole Derek prefered to think before he acted and thereby not act in stupid ways. So what the hell he had been thinking toying with unidentified magical artefacts found in the home of the malicious sorcerer they had spent a week tracking down and eliminating, he couldn’t say. Judging by the suddenly-audible thoughts of everyone around him in the moment the pendant had started glowing and whistling, he hadn’t been thinking at all.

So now here he was, behind the locked door of his loft, hiding from anyone and everyone whose mind he might involuntarily invade. Because that was his luck.

“We need to figure out what exactly is going on,” Scott argued in that annoyingly reasonable tone of his. “If Deaton can determine what curse it is—if it’s even a curse! It might not be! But if he can do that, then he can work on reversing it. But he can’t do that from all the way out here.”

Derek gritted his teeth against a snarl. He didn’t want to be within a mile of anyone else right now. He didn’t want to hear what other people thought of him; he had long had his suspicions on that matter, and the last thing he needed was confirmation of those depressing facts. But Scott had a point. If he didn’t want to live the rest of his miserable life as an unwilling telepath, Deaton was his best shot.

“Fine,” he bit out. “But for the love of all that is holy, Scott, try to keep your mind off Allison.

The mental images Derek had from the ten seconds between the onset of the curse and when everyone else had realized what was happening had scarred him for life.

With every step he took toward the door, the voice in Derek’s ear got that much louder, strangely light and insubstantial in a way that was hard to define but made it obvious even without seeing Scott’s closed mouth that the words weren’t being spoken out loud.

I don’t think about Allison that much, do I? Just because her hair smells good and she was wearing that shirt today with the — like the blue one better, it makes her look like — probably stay over at her place tonight if her dad doesn’t try to shoot me again — need to take milk home to mom, though, don’t forget —

Derek yanked open the door and immediately backed away, hoping that even a few feet would make the thoughts less demanding. He was thoroughly caught off guard to see Deaton standing quietly at Scott’s side; he couldn’t hear a single thought from the man. When Derek turned his attention on him, he just got a very strong impression of a brick wall.

Deaton smiled that cryptic little smile of his, like he was the one reading minds now.

“A mental block,” he said. “A technique for shielding the mind, perfected through years of practice and meditation.”

“Like Occlumency?” Derek asked.

“Not unlike it,” Deaton said easily. “Sadly, not something that can be picked up by novices in a few hours.”

Well, there went his last hope.

Derek let himself be tugged down onto his own couch by Deaton and sent up a prayer of thanks when Scott took the hint to not crowd him. That didn’t stop him from catching stray thoughts— really should get some curtains or something, this place is depressing — smells like sad in here, god, I hate chemosignals —but it was better than a constant deluge of them.

There was some poking and prodding, some following the light exercises, and some sort of obscure, extrasensory magical goings-on before Deaton sat back with another almost-reassuring smile.

“It’s not a permanent spell,” he said, “nor a complex one. However, it is one that requires the source to be destroyed.”

“The source?” Derek asked. “The sorcerer is already dead. Why am I still being subjected to this?”

“By source, I mean the artefact in which the curse was contained,” Deaton clarified. “Luckily, we have the artefact on hand. Now it’s only a matter of destroying it.”

“How long should that take?” Scott asked.

“Shouldn’t be long,” Deaton said, standing up and dusting off his lab coat. “A week or two at the most.”

“A week or two?” Derek repeated, horrified.

Don’t know why he’s so upset by that, we go weeks without seeing him anyway — kind of a hermit, honestly — oh god, he can hear me, can’t he, fuck —

“It’ll be fine,” Scott said bracingly, and Derek had a strong urge to punch him in the face. Luckily, Scott seemed to sense it and started hastily backing up toward the door, thumbing over his shoulder. “Deaton will get you fixed up in no time! In the meantime, I’ll just get out of your hair.”

“Please do,” Derek muttered.

The silence, when Scott and Deaton were gone and the door shut firmly behind them, seemed emptier than it usually did, but Derek was grateful for it nonetheless.

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Epic Movie (Re)Watch #112 - The Prince of Egypt

Originally posted by dreamworksmoments

Spoilers Below

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: No.

Format: DVD

1) The head of Jeffrey Katzenberg, the head of Dreamworks animation at the time and one of the former big wigs at Disney, had been pitching an adaptation of Moses’ story from Exodus to Disney far before he started Dreamworks with Steven Spielberg. During an early meeting of Dreamworks Katzenberg recalls that Spielberg looked at him during the meeting and said, “You ought to do The Ten Commandments.”

2) I think the opening disclaimer is a nice touch.

“The motion picture you are about to see is an adaptation of the Exodus story. While artistic and historical license has been taken, we believe that this film is true to the essence, values and integrity of a story that is a cornerstone of faith for millions of people worldwide. The biblical story of Moses can be found in the book of Exodus.”

3) Music plays an incredibly important role in this film, mostly for setting its grand storytelling and dark tone. This is clearly apparent from the opening song “Deliver Us” which depicts the suffering of the Hebrew people in Egypt and also the hope of Moses.

Originally posted by holden-caulfieldlings

4) This film also does an excellent job of immediately establishing the brotherly relationship between Moses and Ramses. It’s fun and honest, which makes the following events all the more heartbreaking.

Originally posted by somehow-you-will

5) Val Kilmer is quite effective in the role of Moses, being able to provide a healthy balance of his youthful joviality and privilege early on and the wisdom that would come to define the character later.

6) This film has three noteworthy actors who have very little lines. The first two of these are Patrick Stewart as Pharaoh Seti and Helen Mirren as The Queen.

Originally posted by ofallingstar

Neither of them sing, so their lines are few and unfortunately Mirren feels wasted in the part (less of a comment on her acting, which is top notch as usual, and more from the lack of screen time). Stewart, however, gives Seti some depth. We see him as father and ruler, both roles where he cares about his people, but also murderer of Hebrew babies which gives him a sinister feel.

7) Moses could have been painted as a spoiled brat while acting as prince of Egypt, but he takes responsibility for his actions and mistakes while also trying to shield Ramses from some of their father’s heavy expectations.

8) Tzipporah is established as fierce as heck from the get go.

Originally posted by spypartygifs-blog

Kept as a foreign slave in her first scene, she still fights back with great vigor despite being in a room who don’t care if she dies by the hands of the pharaoh. Michelle Pfeiffer imparts some of the strength she brought to Catwoman into the part and it’s a wonderful take on the biblical figure.

9) Sandra Bullock may have more lines than Helen Mirren, Patrick Stewart, and (later) Danny Glover, but for some reason I’m always wanting more of her and her character Miriam by the time the film ends. I like what I see, I just wish there were more of her in the film (I think).

Originally posted by holden-caulfieldlings

10) For some reason I don’t feel the way about her brother Aaron, who is voiced wonderfully by Jeff Goldblum. That may be because we see Aaron develop from non-believer to believer over the course of the film (wheres Miriam is consistently good and believing in Moses) and Jeff Goldblum plays both the doubter and the supporter well.

Originally posted by radioactivelizzy

11) Continuing with the excellent music in this film, “All I Ever Wanted,” carries with it that sense of grandeur as well as the heartbreak of Moses denying his true heritage.

12) Moses’ nightmare is one of the most memorable non-musical sequences out of the film (not THE most memorable but one of them), and this is done both through the unique hieroglyphic art style and the lack of dialogue. It is true visual storytelling.

13) Remember how I said Tzipporah is fierce as heck? Well, that continues throughout the film when she decides to drop Moses into a well as a bit of payback for being a prince of Egypt (although she does help him out because he helped her escape the palace).

14) Danny Glover is the third actor who doesn’t have enough lines. He plays the role of Jethro, a character with about ten spoken lines (more or less) and then the rest of his role is in song. And Danny Glover doesn’t sing the song.

Originally posted by holden-caulfieldlings

In the little dialogue Glover does give though, he is able to establish Jethro as a man who’s heart is as big as his stature. I just wish we’d heard more of him.

15) I mentioned in The Road to El Dorado the effectiveness of using a song to cover large gaps of time. This film is no different, initial with Jethro’s song “Through Heavens Eyes.” It’s a rousing and hopeful number which talks of the Hebrew god and how we can only know our worth when trying to look through (one guess what I’m going to say next) heaven’s eyes. In that time we cover Moses learning what a free life is from these people, his growing humility, and his blossoming relationship with Tzipporah (and eventual marriage).

Originally posted by holden-caulfieldlings

16) The Burning Bush.

Val Kilmer provides the voice of god in this film, although that wasn’t the initial plan. Originally all the actors in the film were going to voice god at the same time, and were told to whisper so they wouldn’t overpower each other. When the time came to record Kilmer’s lines, they realized someone had to speak louder. It was a happy realization, as the filmmakers later noted that god usually speaks to us as the little voice in our own heads. And it parallels the Cecil B. Demille version of The Ten Commandments where it is said (although I don’t think confirmed) that Charlton Heston also provided the voice of god while also playing Moses.

17) Moses telling Tzipporah about his encounter with the burning bush is another fine example of how filmmaking is primarily a VISUAL medium. We don’t hear a word they saw to each other, but we see him talking and we see her reaction and we know EXACTLY what is happening.

Originally posted by quaslmodo

18) Ralph Fiennes performance as Ramses is at its best when Ramses becomes villainous and conceited. Hmm, Ralph Fiennes playing a villainous and conceited villain. Sounds familiar…

Originally posted by yerr-a-wizard-harry

19) Playing with the Big Boys is the only real villain song in this film.

Performed by the evil lackeys Hotep and Huy (who are voiced wonderfully by Steve Martin and Martin Short respectively), the song shows off just how dark things in the Egypt really are and how tricky these two “magicians” are. Martin and Short breathe wonderful life and evil fun into the song, and even recorded their dialogue together. And the scenes uses wonderful use of darkness and shadows to make us feel like Moses is in over his head. Which in a way, he is. But the film wouldn’t be interesting if things were easy for the protagonist.

20) The growing conflict between Moses and Ramses is heartbreaking and I give credit to all those involved in this film for that. The directors, the writers, the animators, Val Kilmer & Ralph Fiennes, everyone. We see them go from the best of friends to archenemies and neither of them wants to be in that position. But they are, and they each think they’re doing what is best for their people. It hurts a lot to watch.

21) “The Plagues” is also a great example of how this film condenses what could have been a massive chunk of time into a little two-and-a-half minute song.

It also does not make light of the plagues either. The plagues were horrible. True wrath of god type stuff that ruined people’s lives. And this song is an epic but dark representation of just what those were like while also developing the conflict between Moses and Ramses.

22) I’m not as familiar with my biblical readings as maybe I should be, but I like that this film depicts Moses reaching out to Ramses one last time before he releases the final plague. It is one final reminder that they are or, more appropriately, were brothers. And they almost seem to understand each other, to make peace. But they don’t. Meaning the final and most awful plague is released.

23) I don’t want to get into my own theological beliefs or philosophies, but I am always sickened about the death of the first borns of Egypt.

The scene is animated beautifully but the entire thing is heartbreaking. The idea of a god who will take away the lives of children just to get what he wants, even though he later claims that we are all his children, just never sits right with me. I just…it sickens me. That’s all I can say. It sickens me.

24) “When You Believe” is probably THE song from this film. It won the Oscar for best original song that year, beating out “I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing” by Aerosmith. It is the perfect representation of the power of hope and belief which is the central theme of this film. Michelle Pfeiffer and Sally Dworsky (along with the film’s chorus) do an excellent job performing the song written by Stephen Schwartz, but the pop version performed by Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey is just as good.

Originally posted by holden-caulfieldlings

25) I think the most memorable part of this film has to be the parting of the Red Seas. And it could just be for this image alone:

Originally posted by neverlandpixy

That is such a powerful image which really gets across the wonder of what we’re seeing. A representation of the scene which few if any adaptations of the Exodus story have ever lived up to and which I think only animation can bring to life so wonderfully.

26) After the Red Sea crashes down and Ramses is washed away, we see Moses looking off in the distance and hear Ramses screaming, “MOSES!” The filmmakers have suggested that this may be in Moses’ head and that Ramses might actually be dead. I like that idea. It shows Moses still has hope for his brother.

27) And since this is an adaptation of Exodus, of course it has to involve the Ten Commandments in some way. I’m just glad that it’s the last shot of the film. A nice way of ending the story.

It makes sense to end a family film there, as opposed to Moses finding his people worshipping a false idol (a golden cow, I think) and smashing the tablet before God destroys the idol and forces his people to wander the desert for 40 years to kill off the rebellious generation. Oh, and Moses didn’t get to go into the promised land.

(GIF originally posted by @rocktheholygrail)

What’s not family friendly about that?

The Prince of Egypt is a great animated film who’s popularity has unfortunately lost steam in recent years. It represents its story well without beating you over the head with the religion, the animation and music are gorgeous, and the voice acting is top notch (if a little wasted at times). I highly recommend you see it.

Something About Pet Names

Request: Can u do one where a close guy friend of y/n’s call her princess and she ignores it but she told harry she doesn’t liked to be called that and gets angry

also special thanks to the always lovely, @stylesunchained for the help. x

Originally posted by catchynells

The party is buzzing away, one of the most rambunctious Harry had ever taken you too.  In fact, it’s pounding. The music is loud and people are everywhere, there’s barely any room to move without bumping hips or elbows with someone else. It’s humid too, everyone who isn’t dancing or mingling is fanning themselves or downing more drinks in hopes of cooling off. The air is hot, dripping, even- and it has been for hours. 

 You don’t mind, though, even in the slightest. You enjoy the parties, and you enjoy that Harry brings you to them. You’ll take a sweaty room full of drunk people to spend whatever fleeting amount of time his schedule can allow. Whatever time you can spend with your oldest and dearest friend, is enough for you. He had tried so hard to keep you integrated in his crazy life. Even when he’s gone, no matter how long, he manages. Between the texts and the occasional facetimes with raspy voices and snappy sentences (”Oi! Don’t fall asleep on me! ‘M talkin to yeh, aren’t I?”), he had always managed to keep you in the loop. His loop. 

And you’ve become friends with his friends too, and maybe enough so over the past few years that you can call them your friends too. They’re wonderful and they keep you company when Harry is gone. 

You sip away with due amusement at the half empty flute of sangria in your hand, leaning back against the bar stool as you watch Harry drunkenly tap away on his phone in front of the wide room with his clumsy fingers, as he sings into the microphone with the other.

You smile at him as he grips the microphone and his rough voice fills the room, echoing off the walls and acting as barrier to the mulled conversation within it. He’s having fun, he’s enjoying himself a lot, and you’re so happy for him. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him so.. at ease, even if it is credited to the alcohol he’s consumed over the course of the past few hours. It had been building all night, the gleam in his eyes, from when a group of you had played some games to the way he had practically tried to swallow a cigarette earlier in the night. 

“S’he looking up the lyrics to a Christmas song?” A voice asks, sinking in front of you and blocking your view of Harry. 

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i’m watching the musical episode of OUAT and i can’t help but think….

Critical Role: The Musical

Vax and Keyleth’s duet where she’s a little out of key and out of step, Vex’s love song which turns out to be about money, Percy and Tarry’s working song

but the best thing? Grog and Pike’s rousing, foot stomping best-friends/fighting & drinking song

Harry Styles.

Two mere words for so much of a person.

I’ve just listened to the album from start to finish. In little under an hour I’ve been taken on a journey by a man who has so many stories to tell. And tell them in his own way is what he has so deftly done.

Theres this beautiful feeling of syncopation to the whole thing, some moments so softly sung as to be almost spoken like a latter day Nick Drake, others wrapped in a rousing rock persona, laced with dirty rock rhythms, that call back to different moments in time.

It feels at turns intensely personal like a love life letter to his past self. And it makes me feel like we can somehow just hook into a nearby amp and feel those vibrations of living.

I am absolutely gutted that I won’t be able to hear these songs perfomed live, because I think that where he takes them as these stories he’s woven begin to live with him and take on new elements, will be truly something special. 

This is the Pink Album, and I’ve never been happier to be wrapped in this hue.

Every One Direction Solo Single, Ranked
With the release of Liam Payne's Quavo-featuring "Strip That Down" last Friday (May 19), fans at long last have a complete set of One Direction solo singles: All five members have made their entrance as proper pop solo entities. In honor of these new benchmarks for the solo 1Ders, we've decided to rank all 10 of the solo singles they've collectively released so far.

With the release of Liam Payne’s Quavo-featuring “Strip That Down” last Friday (May 19), fans at long last have a complete set of One Direction solo singles: All five members have made their entrance as proper pop solo entities.

What’s more, “Strip” makes it an even ten singles between the five members – not counting Harry Styles’ promotional quasi-single “Sweet Creature” – with Zayn obviously doing most of the heavy lifting, after his near-year head start on the other four.

In honor of these new benchmarks for the solo 1Ders – including our most recent cover star, the recently minted “grown-ass-man” Niall Horan – we’ve decided to rank all 10 of the solo singles they’ve collectively released so far. Read on below, and look forward to our list certainly ballooning in size (and debatability) in the years to come.

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anonymous asked:

i dont know if your requestss are open but could you write something about them sharing that chase or whatever it was? that was so so cute and such a small part of the story.

Hey there! My requests aren’t really open per say but this is literally about the story I just posted & it’s still fresh in my mind, sooooooooooo I think I can make this happen.

plus this is a great excuse to use the baby Raúl gif.

Originally posted by hannibalmorelikecannibal

Flashback; in your twenties, a devastatingly hot summer afternoon, when your best friend / neighbor Rafael Barba decides to bug you.

It was so, so hot out.

“What the Hell are you wearing?” Rafael had been at classes, and easily decided to help himself into your apartment after they were through. “And why don’t you lock your damn doors?”

You rolled your eyes, too annoyed with the sweat beading across your forehead to properly deal with his berating. This horrible weather had everyone acting up, threw the world off its hinges just a bit. “I hadn’t been expecting company, most people knock.”

“I’m not most people,” his backpack was abandoned, and he made no efforts of hiding the fact that he was quite interested in your outfit. Thin silk? Satin? He could never tell, but it was barely much of anything, hung from thin straps on your shoulders (one had slipped, and you did not appear too concerned with fixing it) and barely reached your thighs. Petal pink and precious, he bit his lip while shaking his head to rid his mind of the thoughts that flooded- he was only a man, after all. “But if you don’t have to wear real clothes, I’m losing this shirt.”

“I don’t give a shit, Rafi, parade around naked if you want to.”

He paused, you spun to look over your shoulder when you couldn’t hear his feet shuffling anymore. Tauntingly, he had the buckle of his belt in his hands, and wriggled brows (what you assumed he considered) seductively as he fumbled with it.

Deadpan; “That was a joke, Rafi.”

Ah, and your friend roared with laughter, but still ditched the belt. The pants could stay, might as well. “You’re grumpy,” after dropping his shirt with the bag, Rafael sauntered your way, and dramatically collapsed alongside you on the chaise. “You have the best breeze in this whole apartment building, you’d think you’d be a bit grateful.”

A whine left your lips, and you continued to gaze longingly out the window. Children were playing in the streets, dancing in water coming from a hose one of them had used to siphon ’rain’ from a hydrant. They probably shouldn’t be doing that, but Lord, they were having so much fun. “I am grateful,” you lay your temple against the wooden edge of the window, propped yourself up with elbows placed on the sill. “I wish I was down there with them, though, they’re having much more fun.”

Curious about the commotion, Rafael placed fists against the cushions on either side of your torso so he could peek around you. They were enjoying themselves, he had noticed them working on the hydrant on his walk back from school. “Well don’t you worry,” shamelessly, he dropped himself, so his chest hit your back and he could curl one arm around your waist. Using you as a resting spot, he pressed his cheek against yours that wasn’t on the windowsill, and used his free hand to comb your sweat-moistened hair out of your face. “Your Rafi’s back, so the fun’s just begun.”

If they had been opened, you’d have rolled your eyes. Instead, you were busy savoring his fingertips and their subtle stroll through your tresses. Why did that feel so nice? You weren’t quite sure, but he didn’t stop, especially not after he twist his face and saw how peaceful you looked. No, instead of getting a drink or watching the rambunctious children stomp in puddles; he watched you, smiled to himself when he felt the tension release out of your shoulders from under him, hid his face in the crook of your neck for just a second despite your damp skin.

This went on for awhile; between the breeze, his petting, and the comfort of his weight over you- you’d almost dozed off. It wasn’t until a tune started playing out in the streets, the tinny music-man jingle of songs you remembered in your own childhood, that you were roused with a start. Your sudden movements apparently surprised poor Rafael, who jumped and gathered a handful of your hair to swipe over your shoulder.

“Want some? I have some extra cash.” The query came after he pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, and you nodded eagerly while staring out at the ice cream truck below. “You gotta put clothes on.”

“I’m wearing clothes, you dolt,” with a smart roll, you managed to knock him off of you, and jumped up to your feet. Still, despite your protest, you went to work tying your hair up in a bun atop your head. “But I will go put a dress on… don’t wanna scare the kiddies.”

Yea, Rafael thought while trying to fight through the blush rising to his cheeks when your lifted arms caused that little… whatever it was… to raise just enough to reveal some of your derriere, they’d surely be terrified to see you like this… or, you’d be why they’d start teaching Sex Ed in the public schools.

“Hurry up,” he managed to squeak out after watching you disappear in your bedroom. “I’ll go without you,” the threat was as fake as his disinterest, and so Rafael lay flat on the chaise to await your return. 

He wouldn’t go anywhere without you, unless he had to.

Thankfully- he rarely had to.

anonymous asked:

please expand on that night when Plumette and co. got drunk because of Chapeau's brandy + wine idea...

You know I love this idea (discussed here) and you; of course we can expand on that night, though no words can truly capture the extent of the revelry. Too much happened, and too much was forgotten, to really get it all down.

but here are some things that happened that weren’t forgotten:

  • this was way before the curse, of course. plumette was in her twenties and lumiere was just a footman, and their attraction to each other was sort of unofficial. cadenza and garderobe haven’t visited yet—though trust me when i say that at the moment this is taking place, they are definitely enjoying some heated wine halfway across the globe in front of a roaring fireplace
  • but anyway back to the palace and it’s somewhat tipsy inhabitants. as you mention, a quiet night of drinking adam’s expensive wine quickly dissolved following chapeau’s quiet addition of brandy to his own cup
  • once the brandy + wine combination was approved of as being thoroughly disgusting, everyone got to work scrounging out their hidden supplies of alcohol to share. Plumette has champagne left over from Christmas; Cogsworth has his stockpile of sherries, vermouth, and port; Mrs. Potts has an unusual collection of whiskeys; Lumiere procures a bottle of cognac from one of his sleeves.
  • chapeau brings out his fiddle to play a little, you know, something gentle. The rest of the kitchen staff bring out their instruments of choice (a certain somebody pulls out his Parisian accordion)—and the results sound like this.
  • there’s drunken dancing, of course. drunken reels and gavottes; a lot of high heel shoes snap that night—you’d think it was the Twelve Dancing Princesses, from the number of broken shoes littering the floor
  • there are drinking games, of course. there is a strong suspicion that cogsworth makes up half of them on the fly because they all have strong beginnings but then seem to dissolve when it’s time to decide who ‘wins’
  • adam is sleeping through all of this. incredibly. a good thing too, because after that last bottle of gin the servants are wandering all over the palace being idiots
  • mrs. potts is obviously the queen of drinking and is cruising through every challenge one can set before her
  • cogsworth thinks he is the king of drinking but definitely isn’t. doesn’t stop him from trying to fight everybody though. mrs. potts goes through his pockets and tries to find all the weapons but they just KEEP FALLING OUT
  • lumiere, drunk, just gets more sappy and ridiculous than he was before. he gets 10x more amorous towards plumette and cries on mrs. potts’ shoulder several times over stupid things. he believes he can still juggle and doesn’t understand why his dexterity is somewhat dimmed.also he doesn’t realize he picked up some hamsters instead of his usual juggling balls so maybe that’s why they keep moving
  • Chapeau mulls some ale. when drunk, chapeau doesn’t weave or sob or do stupid things; he just sits in one corner with a listener too far gone to wander away, and expounds at length on his personal theory of quantum physics. yeah, he’s one of those drinkers. (i’m one of those drinkers, too. get me drunk and prepare yourself to talk philosophy for 25 years.)
  • plumette is really giggly and flirty when drunk. she isn’t as far gone as lumiere, so she can intelligently realize it’s not a good idea to fall asleep in the fountain, but she is still good at coming up with the Cute Small Drunk™ Ideas, like making flower crowns for everybody
  • mrs. potts is a mom to everybody and makes sure nobody gets really hurt. surprsingly, so is cogsworth. apparently peppermint schnapps really brings out his nurturing side
  • by the time everybody has reached blackout stage, lumiere is very carefully doing plumette’s nails; mrs. potts is singing a rousing rendition of some Yorkshire sailor’s song she definitely shouldn’t know; Cogsworth is already asleep on the table; and Chapeau has moved on from quantum physics and now is deep in a one-sided discussion as to why milton’s Paradise Lost really stands in severe counterpoint to John Donne’s poetry vis a vis its use of semi-amorous imagery
  • lumiere and plumette end up in bed together. obviously. when they’re drunk they forget to act cool and just go for each other
  • mrs. potts wakes up in the fountain. whose bright idea was this, she thinks
  • cogsworth wakes up in his own bed. of course. how he got there no one knows; the reigning theory is that he’s such a creature of habit that even in his cups he is as methodical as a clock
  • Chapeau falls asleep standing up. his coat is stuck on a hatrack so he just rolls with it and falls asleep that way
  • the next day adam can’t get any of his servants to be any use to him of all, so he goes on a wine-buying expedition. weirdly, none of them touch the stuff when he brings it back. also weirdly, adam never finds out what happened to those casks of expensive wine he was supposed to have for dinner

(hey kids if you got through this whole post and think drinking sounds fun, guess what: it isn’t. if you’re not over 21 don’t do this, this is a fictionalized account of drinking, actual drunken parties can be fun but they can also be gross and weird and sad and dangerous. if anybody drank as much as i’ve detailed here they would be dead. be safe and don’t drink if it is illegal.  lumiereswig just wants to make sure you’re safe and loved, k thanks byee)

I think Yuuri knows how to play the piano!

“Hm? Is that a piano?”

Yuuri looks up from where he’s sorting out his laundry, a sock in one hand and a shirt in another. He puts the sock to one side and begins folding the shirt, Victor’s shirt that he keeps forgetting to give back. “Oh, that? I got that keyboard a long time ago—before I went to Detroit, even.”

Victor tilts his head from where he sits on the bed, feet stretched out before him. Blinks and looks at Yuuri. “Do you still play?”


“Play for me?”

Smiling, Yuuri sets aside one of Victor’s scarves and stands. “Any requests?”

“Your song,” the Russian says decisively after a heartbeat of thinking. “Yuri on Ice.”

“Hmm. I never learned it,” Japan’s top figure skater admits. He shakes his head and pulls out the keyboard from where it sits propped against his closet. “But I can try.”

“You can do that?” Victor asks. The words, You’re that good at playing? go unsaid.

Yuuri shrugs, plugs the keyboard into the wall and turns the machine on. “Sure,” he answers, fingers running over scales like water pouring from a fountain. The sound is crisp and clear, and Victor finds himself pleasantly surprised. He wonders why.

“I’ve skated to this song so many times it’s practically engraved in my head,” the brunet continues, moving into arpeggios and rhythmic exercises. The keyboard moves slightly as Yuuri presses into the keys, the device pushing into the yielding mattress. “Just give me a second to warm up.”

As Yuuri’s fingers drift over the keys, Victor swings his feet back and forth. “How did you start playing?”

Yuuri’s fingers don’t stop, unheeding of or perhaps disregarding the conversation. Yuuri turns to look at the older man and hums. “I saw a video of someone playing the piano and decided to learn.”

“Did you take lessons?”

“For a time, yes.”

“How old were you when you started?”

Yuuri huffs a laugh from his nose and tests out various chords. “Is this an interrogation now?”

“Well, I never knew you could play. Is it so wrong to want to learn more about your boyfriend?”

“Mm.” Yuuri pauses, looking down at his hands. “I started when I was relatively young. Six, I think?”

“That is young.”

“Well, I stopped being so serious about it when I began taking ballet lessons. And then skating took up most of my time after that.”

“But you still play?”

“I still play.”

Yuuri begins then, starting with the sixteenth note triplets, and Victor closes his mouth and just listens. It’s lovely—reminds him of when he first listened to it, half asleep and with Yuuri excitedly leaning over his lap. Reminds him of his former student, of his lover before they became lovers.

“You’re very good at this.”

Closing his eyes and letting himself visualize the music inside his head, Yuuri leans back and feels his lips quirk into a half-smile. “I’m not the type to let a skill atrophy without practice.”

“That’s not you, no,” Victor agrees.

And they both listen, then, to the music pouring out of the cheap keyboard roused from its sleep. He times his breathing to the swelling of the melody, to the rise and fall of the notes, to the cadence of the moment. Victor leans against Yuuri’s shoulder and Yuuri leans back, the two of them content to relive their memories through the passage of sound.

It’s a peaceful moment filled with peaceful feelings. Victor tells himself to ask Yuuri to play more music for him from now on.

thefreelancerdivision  asked:

re: Peter Quill teaching '70s/'80s songs to the brothers, can you just /imagine/ him leading Fives, Echo, and Hardcase in a rousing performance of Rick Springfield's "Jesse's Girl" when Jesse can't get away from them?

I’m a diehard Jesse/Kix shipper, so imagining this happening is making me laugh so hard I think one of my lungs just popped.

(Quill would be the shippiest of shipping trash, especially among the clones. Like, oh, you have a crush on so-and-so? Here’s an entire playlist of songs to win them over, along with a lesson on my own personal brand of dancing pelvic sorcery)

For All to Hear

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS)
Prompt: Imagine going Christmas caroling with the crew of the Enterprise.
Word Count: 1200
Christmas fluff and shenanigans! Suggestive themes near the end.
Rating: Teen+
Author’s Note: Taking a brief break from my A to Z series again while I adopt out a few new plot bunnies that have showed up on my doorstep lately.  Merry Christmas, friends!

The Best Way to Spread Christmas Cheer is Singing Loud for All to Hear

You’d been in your quarters preparing to wrap the gifts you’d picked out for Leonard and all of your friends on your last shore leave when a rap on the door had distracted you.  Setting aside all of your wrapping supplies, you answered the call, opening the door to find Chekov and Sulu in the hall, dressed up in Santa hats and beards and holding a pair of reindeer antlers out to you with grins on their faces.

“We thought you might like to come caroling with us,” Sulu said warmly as Chekov held out a bag of candy canes.

“Where, exactly, would we be caroling?” You asked, fishing a traditional peppermint candy cane out of the sack and peeling it open.

“Well, since we are stuck out here in orbit, we thought it might be nice to go caroling around the dormitories and different departments,” Chekov explained.  “The Enterprise could use some holiday spirit.”

Keep reading


It’s day three of 2014 and I’m not feeling any less guilty about not posting some thoughts I have, so I guess that’s good enough reason to write them down and send them to you. 

I guess a part of me wants to lay out some predictions for the culture-at-large, and wouldn’t that feel great for a minute, but that’s really not my business. I can really only speak for myself, and sometimes that’s the hardest topic to have a mindful point of view on. 

I want to enjoy being an artist. Artists are weird. We’re fucked up in some of the wrong places, sure, but that’s part of the deal. I’m not mad enough to be a genius, and God knows I’m not genius enough to justify any true madness, but I do want to live my life being creative. And I want the quest for creativity to win out against the fear of failure. 

One thing I need to divorce myself of in 2014 - and to the extent I have any real influence, I would want other artists to as well - is the belief that the now ubiquitous act of studying the changing attitudes and behavior of a society when it comes to how they do or don’t consume music has ANYTHING at all do to with me or the kind of work I want to create. 

It might matter to concert promoter or a record company or a journalist how people are consuming music, but it should never be a good enough reason why I wouldn’t want to make it. There is empirically nothing inside the autopsy of an attitude in listening habits that should change the music that someone’s heart tells them to make. 

2014 is the year of doing, not thinking. I could live the rest of my life in the theoretical “idea space,” a fancy name given to what often should just be called “pure inaction,” but sometimes, it doesn’t come down to a rousing cerebral back and forth on why I should or shouldn’t make my next record here or there or with this person or that one. Sometimes, if you spend too much time debating between two places to go, you miss the flight. 

This year I resolve to create more; write more songs, book more studio sessions with musicians I don’t have a master plan for the purpose of, take more photos, take more chances. For the past several years I’ve seen expression as a vulnerability, and certainly for some of that time it was necessary, but it’s not anymore. I want to use at least half the time I used to spend debating whether it’s worth doing actually DOING IT. If you’re an artist, and you want to do it, and that “it” exists inside your art, DO IT.  An artist should be able to make it now and let the audience tell them what it was or wasn’t without a TED talk-level of explanation before even trying to create it. The artist-as-strategist paradigm might be a compelling thought on some level, but one thing it isn’t is fun. Or groovy. Or messy, which is fun sometimes. 

I hope that you have an amazing, healthy, timelessly enjoyable 2014. A lot of specifics are up in the air as to where I might see you next, but please know I will be spending every bit of my energy on making the purest and best music I possibly can. Thanks for standing by my side. 



shit i’ve actually said starters.

  • ❝I just didn’t wanna answer the door wearing SpongeBob booty shorts.❞
  • ❝I hate Christmas! I HATE IT!!❞
  • ❝I don’t really hate Christmas. I was quoting the Grinch when I said that.❞
  • ❝Yeah, sorry Santa. False alarm.❞
  • ❝Finding Dory was truly what changed 2016 for the almost-better.❞
  • ❝Your two options are spicy meatball and nonexistent meatball.❞
  • ❝Hurry up and make up your mind.❞
  • ❝I’m not just standing over here doing jumping jacks for my health, you know!❞
  • ❝Wait, that came out wrong.❞
  • ❝No one wanted to believe me when I said I was stupid.❞
  • ❝You need to lowkey stop whatever you’re lowkey doing.❞
  • ❝In all seriousness, you can just play New Jack Swing at my funeral.❞
  • ❝Like, just tell a rousing speech about my life, and then start dancing to “Poison” or something.❞
  • ❝That girl / boy is poison!❞
  • ❝It was Robbie Rotten! HE WAS NUMBER ONE!
  • ❝It’s too cold outside, and it’s raining.❞
  • ❝Why are you looking at me like that? I’ve gotta maintain my “burning in the flames” aesthetic at all times.❞
  • ❝Don’t go chasin’ waterfalls. You should just chase, like, a small babbling brook or something.❞
  • ❝I’m definitely the best at quoting old, random, and obscure song lyrics.❞
  • ❝I’m second only to Satan, maybe.❞
  • ❝We’ve got an ongoing competition going on, so stay tuned.❞
  • ❝Wanna go running later?❞
  • ❝Well, I was thinking we could go sprinting through the Red Light District.❞
  • ❝I took a trip down to a local graveyard once. I thought, “Wow, that’s a lot of dead people.”❞
  • ❝I can’t eat Frosted Flakes. I mean, I CAN, but I don’t want to.❞
  • ❝Me and Tony the Tiger have a long, ugly history, okay? Don’t ask.❞
  • ❝I’m only hugging you because you approached me with your arms spread out.❞
  • ❝I was just like, “Oh. Hey, Satan.”
  • ❝He told me to tell you he hates you and wants you dead.❞
  • ❝Basically, he said he wanted to consume my soul. And then he started quoting Disturbed.❞
  • ❝I wish I was joking. But unfortunately, I’m not.❞
  • ❝Is that Bleach’s third opening theme I hear?❞
  • ❝My dream is to be able to do the screamo part.❞
  • ❝I should keep on dreaming, right?❞
  • A-HA!
  • ❝I have located the vibe!❞
  • ❝Fasten your seatbelts! It’s about to get LIT!❞
  • “I really wanna post extensive documentation of this LIVE BIRTH on Instagram!”——has no sane person ever thought ONCE in their entire life.❞
  • ❝I hate you so fucking much, in the most tender and loving way.❞
  • ❝You never know——maybe they’ll have FaceTime in Hell?❞
  • ❝Please pass the pain and suffering…❞
  • ❝Please pass the happiness and rainbows.❞
  • ❝So… no cummies?❞
  • ❝I love you, dawg.❞
  • ❝Yeah——I love you. I just said that.❞
  • ❝So I chilled with Santa Claus the other day.❞
  • ❝Guess what? You’re getting nothing for Christmas!❞
  • ❝Santa told me he wouldn’t even waste coal on you.❞
  • ❝You have consistently chosen to keep acting the fool.❞
  • ❝Eating food is only important to people who want to continue living…❞
  • ❝I just had the most disgusting canned soup of my entire life.❞
  • ❝Yo, can I get yo’ number?❞
  • ❝Zodiac is life, brah.❞
  • ❝I want to marry an Aries.❞
  • ❝I want to meet a nice, beautiful Virgo man and fall in love.❞
  • ❝Just because you proved via the Scientific Method and extensive research that it’s not true, it doesn’t mean that it isn’t true!❞
  • ❝My kindergarten teacher implied that I had the highest reading level in the class once. It’s been the foundation of my self-confidence ever since.❞
  • ❝Oh. Sorry. Continue on with your marriage proposal.❞
  • ❝Only your taste in music can rival mine.❞
  • ❝Heaven could just be a continuous loop of the Austin Powers series, and I’d be in bliss.❞
  • ❝Awww, that was so cash money of you to say!❞
  • ❝I’ve raised you well, poodle.❞
  • ❝Dude! They’re not even poodles!❞
We Only Want to Sing You to Sleep - Joji Miller Imagine

Joji slips in the door, greeted with nothing but a dimly-lit living room and the sounds of song that he knows all too well- something he wrote and recorded a few weeks back, a special demo just for you.

He tiptoes over to the couch after he notices you lying there, dead to the world with your phone clasped loosely in your grip. Joji smiles to himself, more than a little excited by the fact that you liked his song enough play it while you waited for him to come home. He bends down quietly, kissing your temple and turning off the speaker on the coffee table almost in the same movement. You shift slightly, tucking further into the couch, but he just pets your hair to soothe you before slipping both arms underneath your body.

The feeling of being picked up and carried rouses you, and you groggily ask what’s going on, still nearly completely asleep at this point. Joji just shushes you softly. “Nothing, baby,” he says, smiling to himself as you cling to him with all of the air of a little child. “Nothing at all.”

Here are a list of things I need to happen for me to pay this much money to see Beyonce perform an album I haven’t heard yet and may not even be in the works…

1. A Destiny’s Child reunion…and I’m not just talking Michelle. I need Kelly, Letoya, Latavia, Nina, Nicki, Ronny, Bobby, Ricky & Mike
2. Beyonce needs to perform every song she’s ever been on including but not limited to the Proud Family theme song with a Solange solo.
3. I also need Solange giving twistout tutorials
4. Mama Tina waxes eyebrows
5. Blue Ivy needs to come and do a whole Doc Mcstuffins Monologue complete with Cicely Tyson realness
6. Jay needs to show up and do his whole discography all the way back to when he had a busted gold grill
7. Matter of fact…all of Roc-a-Fella should be there and do a rousing rendition of “Big Pimpin” with a hologram Pimp C.
8. Jesus comes out for a duet of Amazing grace
9. Beyonce does my taxes
10. Then she takes me to Red Lobster
11. …and gives me a ride home

….and even then she would still owe me a smooth $1500

Four days later in London, McCartney began cutting the soundtrack for a projected film about the beloved Daily Express children’s character Rupert Bear, to which he owned the rights. Among the tunes recorded were ‘Rupert Song (Parts 1 and 2)’, ‘Tippi Tippi Toes’ and ‘The Castle Of The King Of The Birds’. A thirty-eight-piece orchestra and a boys’ choir joined Paul to lay down both vocal and humming versions of the rousing ‘We All Stand Together’, which would be a British hit some four years later.

McCartney was sipping a Scotch and Coke when the young choristers filed out, in a reflective mood; the song had moved him. Around midnight, a Cinderella moment in the empty studio when the gear was being stowed, he turned to Linda and one or two friends and told them that it reminded him of the famously trippy session for ‘All You Need Is Love. ‘It was that same vibe. I just looked around, and there were all these flowers and happy faces smiling up at me.’ Another sip or two, and he began murmuring huskily, ‘John… John…’ And Paul bent over chuckling, as though it had been yesterday rather than thirteen years before.

—  Christopher Sandford, McCartney. (2005)

anonymous asked:

Now I really want a one shot about harry and missus having sex in Jeff's hot tub.😏 ((Maybe they go over to their place and first all of them are having a drink in the hot tub but then jeff and glenne get out and harry has been super touchy and horny all night.))

All through writing this, I couldn’t help but have the image of Harry in his yellow shorts in my mind. God damn it. So, here we have yellow-shorts Harry feeling horny in a hot tub. The first smut I’ve written in a long, long, long time so it’s probably a little rusty and a bit off in some places - I do apologise and I’m trying my best when it comes to smut. 

Also, it’s a flashback to this BLURB. x


“Thank you for coming round tonight, it’s been a real treat hosting for the two of you as always,” Glenne smiled, setting the flute glass in her hand on the side of the hot-tub the four of you were situated in. Bubbles and jet streams filling the silence as you watched Glenne reach for her towel set on the glass table on the corner of the decking. “Feel free to stay in the hot-tub if you wish, you’re welcome too. Just don’t be too loud. We’re only up there,” she smirked, pointing to the window above the decking. The curtains pulled to a close, with a small amount of light coming from behind the material to which you could only presume was the little lamp turned on to give them light for easy access to enter the room.

“We’ll probably stay in a bit longer, if that’s okay. You stole my girlfriend today, so, it’ll be nice to have some alone time with her,” Harry chuckled, wrapping his lips around the rim of the flute glass and letting the bubble and burning liquid run down his throat. “Is there any more of this in the mini-fridge? It’s bloody good,” Harry grinned, his eyes red-rimmed and glossy and you knew that one more glass would have him tipsy and noisy and tripping over his own feet; something you were not immune to seeing after a hearty night out with the boys back in London.

He wasn’t one to go out every night of the week, giving him 6 days to focus on work and making sure he took you out or stayed in touch with you to talk about your day and how it went, as well as 1 day where he would let his hair down and enjoy a night to himself. Without the stresses of work pushing down on his shoulders and creating tension upon his body, headaches coming and his back beginning to ache from the endless nights he would spend awake to jot down ideas for song ideas and verses. When it came to his one night of freedom from work, he would always end up on your doorstep with a fist pounding against the door with a slur of your name following with the actions continuing until you roused yourself from your sleep and opened the door. His figure tripping over his own feet as he made his way into the small apartment he’d grown to love over the months he had been with you, his hands reaching to grab anything to keep him stable.

Leaving him for just one moment would end in trouble, and keeping him close to you as you made him a cup of tea with a couple of headache tablets was the best way to make sure your tiny living space stayed neat and tidy and vomit-free from his belly churning and his sudden movements rousing the burning bile to rise up his throat.

“There’s one more bottle,” Jeff stated, reaching over the side of the tub to pull the door of the mini-fridge open, “please don’t plan on getting drunk and passing out with us finding your drowned bodies in the morning,” he stated, retrieving the bottle from the fridge and holding the neck tightly in his hand.

Harry’s eager hands reaching for the bottle, his eyes set on taking it before you could reach it.

“Try telling Harry that,” you giggled, taking the bottle from Jeff just in time before Harry’s hands could grab it. You took the cork-screw from Glenne, pressing it into the cork of the bottle and twisting it until a pop was heard over the jet streams. “But, go to sleep. You look tired. We won’t be up much longer, we promise,” you smiled, chucking the cork to Jeff and watching as he stepped out of the water and stepped foot on the decking.

“And, no sex. Please,” Jeff groaned, grabbing his towel. He fell to the seat beside Glenne, drying the soles of his feet off to make sure he didn’t slip on the linoleum floor of the kitchen on his way through to the bedroom. “We had one couple from down the road come over one night for a barbeque we had, to crack open the new grill, and by morning, there was a pair of floating bikini bottoms on the water surface,” Jeff grumbled, his head turning to Harry with a smirk.

Over the course of the evening and during the dinner that had been delivered from a take-away van that Jeff had called, the two of them could see the sexual tension forming between the both of you, with Harry being extremely handsy and your lips and urges finding it exceedingly difficult to keep away from his skin. With each passing moment, Harry would be touching you in any way possible – his hands on your thighs, his arm around your shoulders, or his knee resting against yours in a close manner that would and mostly could be considered as you both sitting on top of one another. 

They knew what was coming next and they’re prepared themselves for a night that could possibly be filled with moans and rocking beds and squeaky springs of the bed that they had assigned for the two of you to share till morning.

“We wouldn’t dream of it, Jeffrey. We’re guests in your home,” Harry grinned, his cheeks flushing pink as he grabbed the bottle from your hands and poured himself another glass of the champagne brought especially for that night. “Go to bed. Please. I just want alone time with my girlfriend,” Harry whined, rolling his head back in annoyance and puffing his cheeks out.

“Alright, alright. Eager beaver over there wants to get something started,” Glenne pointed out, sending you a wink causing your eyes to widen. “I’m joking. But, we’re going to bed. The guest bedroom is set up and ready for you, and the en-suite bathroom is set with towels and a bottle of my shower-gel for (Y/N) and a bottle of Jeff’s for Harry to use. I’d advise you shower because the sheets get a bit sticky with the chlorine,” Glenne explained, drying the tips of her hair with the towel in her hands.

The night and the rest of the week had been something that Jeff and Glenne had planned for months – with them celebrating an anniversary and wanting Harry and yourself out to celebrate with them, they had made sure that everything was set and ready for your visit. Making sure there were clean sponges in the bathroom as well as clean towels, with shower gels and shampoos set up on the shelves within the bathroom, with toothbrushes stacked in the holders just in case you had forgotten the essentials, with a tube of unopened toothpaste in the box beside the sink.

It made you feel welcomed, and you were sure that in future events, you would do the exact same for the two of them as the two of them had done for you and Harry.

“We’ll try and be as quite as possible. Just, give us a curse and a shout if we’re too loud and wake you,” you stated, setting your flute glass on the edge of the tub and shuffling comfortably beneath the water level. “Thank you for having us, by the way. We’ll see you in the morning.” 

“You’re welcome. Oh, and be up at 8. We’re treating you to breakfast tomorrow morning,” Jeff smiled, grabbing Glenne’s free hand and using his occupied hand to pull open the patio door that barricaded the deck from the kitchen. “Goodnight, you two. Have a safe night,” he teased, tugging Glenne into the house and pulling the patio door to a close, disappearing round the corner and out of your eye-line.

The main light of the kitchen being switched off, with the only light lighting up the decking was the installed lights within the hot tub, giving the feeling an aqua-type atmosphere. The blue shining against Harry’s face and brightly lighting his features up, the colour making him look more attractive than you though possible.

“Now, would you like to explain to me why you’ve been touching me and been handsy through the night?” You smirked, the feeling of his toes dragging up your calf sending shivers down your spine and goosebumps form on your skin. “Stop doing that. You’re not getting anything, we promised them.” 

And it was going to be a promise you would keep.

“If you stay quiet, we could have a lit’le fun,” Harry slurred drunkenly, his green eyes staring at yours as he brought the glass to his lips and downed the liquid from inside. “You look really fit, y’know tha’? S’my favourite one on you. Matches my yellow trunks, don’it?” He grinned, slouching himself down in the water with his chin sitting upon the water surface, his knees knocking against yours with his feet pressed on top of yours. “M’really horny, babe. V’had a boner for almost an hour, just looking at your boobs from sittin’ opposite you,” he grumbled.

“You’re like a teenage boy, aren’t you? A teenage boy getting his first glimpse of boobs,” you giggled, looking at his wandering eyes. “You’re unbelievable, I’m telling you. You drink one glass of alcohol and you’re a horny, moaning teenage boy. Give you more than a bottle of alcohol and you’re a horny, moaning, tipsy and very drunken teenage boy,” you stated, his hands disappearing beneath the water with his bottom lip being taken between his teeth. His eyes closing as he shuffled his body around the uncomfortable seating of the hot-tub, his knees banging against yours a couple of times before he settled comfortably back upright. 

“What did you do?” 

“Nothing,” he whispered teasingly, looking down at the bubbling water before he brought his head back up to you. “Y’should come over here and see what I did,” he winked, signaling with his head to come and sit beside him, bringing his hand from beneath the water and up above the surface.

A bright yellow material hanging off of his index finger, a bigger smirk forming on his lips as you watched the water trickle down the material and drip onto the decking below, forming little circles on the wood that the hot tub had been installed upon. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he continued to drag his toes up your calf, a tickle sensation coursing up your limbs and at the base of your belly. The idea of Harry being completely nude beneath the water giving your mind a picture that you found oddly titillating and rather arousing.

“Harry, put them back on,” you hissed, sitting instantly as you shuffled around and fell beside him, the water sloshing up and over the sides of the hot tub. “Seriously, Harry. You’re not getting hot-tub sex, for goodness sake. Put them back on,” you grunted, his green eyes locked onto yours as he swung his wrist about, his finger curled into the material to keep a secure hold upon the dripping trunks. 

“C’mon. Just one round,” he whispered, his voice deep and slurring slowly. “M’ready n’waitin’ f’you to come ride me,” he smirked, dropping the material to the decking.

“You’re awful. Why am I dating you?” You whispered, cupping his cheeks in your palms and bringing his face to your level. “You better keep quiet, yeah? You’re a loud one when you’ve had some booze,” you pointed out, his hands roaming your back and tugging on the strings of your bikini top. The constraint loosening against your breasts, the material falling and disappearing beneath the water, the bubbles sending an unusual feeling through the areas of your body that were previously covered. “No foreplay. No touching to start things off. Just, a quickie, do you understand me, Harry?” 

Being caught by Jeff and Glenne had sent a feeling of adrenaline through your veins, but it was something you didn’t want happening on a night that was meant to be about them. There was no lie that they would be doing something similar to what you and Harry were doing, but you had to give them respect for not showing sexual tension through the evening; they have ever choice to go to bed and consummate their anniversary, but they had chosen to spend it with the two of you in a way they knew best. And you felt rude to repay them with a thank you by them finding you in a position that seemed rather suggestive and unpleasant to the eyes of the spy.

“Of course. I jus’ need t’release right now. V’not got a condom on me, though, so when I say I need t’pull out, I mean it. Unless you want ba-“

“We do not want babies right now, Harry. We’ve only been together for a year. We’re only nineteen,” you stated, pressing a finger to his lips. “Jus’ let me know when to move and I’ll move,” you smiled. 

“Mm-hm. Just get on up here and ride me,” he whispered, groaning softly as you hitched a thigh over his and set your knees upon the uncomfortable seating of the hot-tub. Your thighs straddling his with the tip of his hardened cock brushing against your pubic bone. “Hmm, so fuckin’ hard f’you, y’know that?” 

“I can feel it, Harry. Are you ready?” You grinned, his answer being muffled by his face being pressed into your neck, his lips leaving wet kisses against your skin as well as his teeth tugging on the skin to leave not only a bright purple hickey but a piece of evidence that you’d gone against the promise you’d expressed to Jeff and Glenne just moments prior. “No hickies, Harold. We don’t need them guessing what we did.”

“Y’no fun when it come t’quickies.”

“Do you want me to ride you or not? Because I can easily get out and go back inside,” you responded, his fingers brushing over your thighs and adjusting your bikini bottoms to give him easy access to push into you.

“Wan’ you t’ride me now. M’ready for it,” he slurred, rolling his head back against the side of the hot tub and hissing as your hand wrapped around his girth and proceeded to guide him to your opening. The burning feeling of his entirety stretching you out made you groan, and no matter how many times the two of you had partaken in the act of love-making or quickies, you would never adjust properly to the size of his cock. “Mmm, y’know, it always feels so good when you’re wrapped around me like this. S’like a nice warm feeling,” he whispered into the cool air of the cool Los Angeles air, the stars twinkling in the cloudless night sky. 

A night that looked clear and perfect, and acted as a beautiful scenery for a night filled with quick passion but a lot of lust radiating from your bodies. 

“You know; it always feels good when I have this sort of control over you. Makes me want to do this when we get back to your LA home, or when we get to London,” you started, rocking your hips against his with his fingers moving towards the bundle of nerves set between your legs. “Might have to purchase some handcuffs and a blindfold,” you grinned tessingly, pressing your lips to his jawline. The stubble forming beneath his jaw tickling at your lips the closer you got to his ear, your teeth tugging on the lobe that created a groan from his gut.

“Sounds so good. I love when y’get all dominant wi’me,” he whispered truthfully, his feet pressed firmly to the floor of the hot tub, pushing up to let his hips coincide with your thrusts, your movements syncing up with each action taking place. “V’you ever considered us experimentin’ a lit’le bit more? Maybe with toys or somethin’? I always see you as one to get wild in the bedroom.”

“Tha’s funny because I thought the same of you,” you replied, your eyelids fluttering closed with your forehead resting against his shoulder as the tip of his cock hit the spot that had you squirming in his lap. “Hmm. Feels so good, Harry. You’re so good a’this, y’know that?” You whispered, your warm breath fanning across his wet shoulder.

“Hmm, v’been waitin’ 19 years for this to happen,” he whispered, rubbing his fingers in a figure of eight pattern against your nerves, you soft gasp and a moan leaving your lips. His neck muffling the sound to ensure it didn’t filter up to the bedroom just a few feet above you. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you grinned, bringing your head to his level and pressing your lips against his pink and champagne-flavoured lips. “I think m’going to come, Harry.”

Your knees shook with pleasure and your toes curled up as tight as they could, the want to close your legs and grind harder for more friction becoming stronger and the urge to squeeze at his cock inside of you became a struggle to hold back.

“Mm-hmm. Me too,” he grunted, his thrusts becoming sloppier and slower with a twitch emitting from his cock to signify he was close to a release that had been building up throughout the evening. “Think y’can do the rest wi’yer hand, love. Don’t wan’to get you pregnant with a baby yet,” he giggled drunkenly, his hands finding their way around your thighs and settling upon the curve of your bum. His fingers kneading into your flesh as he quickened his thrusting pace, the slopping sound of skin on skin becoming audible over the sound of the jet streams that were still on and forming bubbles on the surface.

“Ge’me off at the same time, yeah? Use those magic fingers o’yours,” you whispered, loud enough for him to hear over the sloshing water that created waves as your body moved from his thighs to the place beside him.

Your hand tickled at his thigh before you wrapped your hand around his base and proceeded to give him the pleasure he desired until you felt his knees tense and his cock continuously twitch in your hold. As you continued to give him what he was after, he pressed his fingers at your pubic bone with the tips dangerously close to where you were desperate for pressure. Soft profanities left his lips as he dropped his head to your shoulder, his wrist beneath the water slipping with the pads of his fingers ending up at the area you needed him, a fuzzy knot-like sensation forming at the bottom of your belly. A fire-like feeling raging to escape in the form of moans and groans with grunts of Harry’s name leaving your lips, the need to be quiet being thrown from through as you ground your hips against his fingers and let your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“S’tha’ good, hm? You look like you’re enjoyin’ my touch,” Harry cooed smugly, a hint of cockiness laced within his tone. “Come for me, baby. Then we can go inside and have some shower sex, where they won’t be able t’hear us,” Harry smirked against your ear. 

“Oh, Jesus, you’re so horny.”

It’s time to spruce up your morning with some molten deep house vibes as Australian producer Jyye offers up his official remix of recent Dim Mak signee BERA’s infectious track Untouchable. The smooth pumping, balmy chiming edit by the 20 year old Melbourne talent, who’s been supported by the likes of  Tiësto, Oliver Heldens, Sam Feldt, and EDX in the past, is just the perfect creamy soothing yet bouncy rousing refreshment. You can also stream the track via Spotify, here.

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