#also worth noting that he finishes this like the end of the vid ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fandomdaydreamer · 2 years

Text

The Lighthouse and The Ocean

Pt 21

Without You Now

Pairing: Pedro Pascal/OFC

Warnings: angst, allusions to sex

Summary: Their first goodbye is clouded by a conflicting prediction but apart from a tiny worrisome detail, Nini is excited to record Pedro's song at Third Man Records.

Notes: Also find this fic on Ao3 -here- or the series' Masterlist and Playlist -here-

AN: If you're interested, I've included a YouTube vid of a tour at this wonderful interesting place called Third Man Records and an interview with JW III.

Length: 9k

Without You Now

The crew stood in a circle around me in the sunset dust, clapping and cheering for me once my last scene was finally wrapped up.

My character had ceased to exist while looking at her love with a smile on her face. We had left things unseen and unheard, giving a sense of hope rather than being lost in the notion that life had almost too much to offer.

I shed a tear, just a little one while the cameras kept rolling and captured my final bow and awe at the copious amount of applause surrounding me. I was absorbed in my colleagues' and friends' appreciation of my work and felt saddened in their midst about everything ending here. Pedro finally took pity and could no longer see me struggling to bear this kind celebration on my own. The uncharacteristically smiley cowboy drew me in for a hug, concluding the feeling that this was the end of an era. How could this have been only two and a half months? I spent a lifetime learning and growing here.

I couldn't imagine we'd be apart by tomorrow. We tried and failed to count the ample hours we had left until my departure but how could we not feel our time shrinking with such a sudden sense of loss when we had spent every minute of it together? Working and living in such proximity seemed worth a year of growing accustomed to each other as a new couple. Dreadful uncertainty behaved like clouds, obscuring my last hours in Mexico.

Today, like any other day, we took one final stroll around the gardens, partly in a prolonged ritual of dining and spending our evening together and partly, so I could say goodbye to the people here and the flowers. When the sun was long gone, our path took us back to our room where we got ready for bed and settled with the book we read together, like it was just any normal night.

I could keep telling myself that just one minute more in his presence would satisfy me for another lifetime. I wanted to be everything he ever wanted because I knew there was only one Pedro in the whole wide world, the only one I desired to be my everything. He was unique, he was here and in return, I was his truly, forever his. I wished to keep him here next to me in my arms when I laid my head against his shoulder and listened to his deep baritone.

While he kept threading his fingers through my hair, I yearned for the seasons to change and the time spent by his side that was yet to come. Six more hours until I would leave for the airport. I closed my eyes and pictured memories of every moment we had spent here together, behaving like strays in a timeless paradise who had been mostly unaware of any bitter endings. Other ways of figuring out how to be together waited right behind that door, down the aisle of that aeroplane and under the restless eyes of the public.

Pedro sighed, our Haruki Murakami book sinking to his chest when we had finished the chapter. "I promise we'll continue reading when we're back together again." He told me softly, awaiting any kind of reaction. After a while, he set the book aside along with his glasses.

I waited for a moment to escape the pessimistic thoughts that tightened around me in such a criminal embrace but it never came. I was afraid to lose us. "We won’t change, will we?" I relieved my troubling mind, sounding a bit hollow.

Pedro's chest rose, a deeply worried sigh escaping him and yet I felt a rush of determined energy passing through us. A kiss on my forehead remedied the frown on my face until I smiled again. "I won't let that happen." He whispered against it. His hand firmly traced my back and our silence brought nothing but peace to my mind. It was a quiet kind of affirmation, a sense of promise that he wasn't going anywhere.

From tomorrow on, we'd be separated again and I could not bear the thought, couldn't bear the thought that Señora Martínez's prediction spoke the truth. The memory of earlier today sparked sadness and insecurity inside.

"A palm reading?" I asked Pedro in a sceptical voice after he had translated what the old and wise Señora Martínez had offered me.

The deeply psychic woman sat in the low evening sun on her crooked stairs, back bent from old age. After she had beckoned us closer with one arthritic, wrinkled finger, she smiled a knowing smile that already made me believe in anything she would have to say. Naturally, I had never felt more put off or scared before in my life, shaking my head with vigour. "No, I can't. Palm readings can tell bad things too. What if-"

"Since when are you so pessimistic?" Pedro gave me a looped and confused smile, seemingly confident about a positive outlook, bless his soul. He leaned down to whisper when Señora still held out for my hand. "It would be rude to decline."

"You first, then." I challenged him, gesturing towards the elderly lady, who cooed contentedly as soon as my boyfriend asked for permission, sat on the stair below hers and placed his palm facing upward into her hand.

Señora's voice crowed. "Eres un alma gentil, sí," she told him. "Good man." She directed her words towards me specifically and smiled an almost entirely toothless smile. Pedro blushed through a chuckle.

I simply nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, I know." I rubbed his shoulder, affectionately, feeling more relaxed by the minute.

"Veo buen fortuna en tu vida con tu esposita." She declared with a gesture towards me and Pedro and I beamed at each other. She said all kinds of things I couldn't comprehend but I continued listening and watching her count the wrinkles underneath his pinky finger. "Mira- la linea de los niños. Uno, dos, tres niños."

Pedro's eyes widened. "Three? I'm f-" he stopped his curse from tumbling from his lips when Señora gave him a strict glare. "No, lo siento. Por favor, esto debe ser un error. I'm almost forty-seven years old, when's that supposed to happen?" He laughed ironically, maybe doubting the accuracy of palm readings too now.

I raised my eyebrows sceptically as well, imagining I could be the woman in this future vision and staring in shock into the void at the prospect of a whole brood of children. Until then, I thanked the stars for contraceptives.

'When' indeed. I could feel my face going pale. Pedro interrupted my train of thought just when I tried to figure out an important equation but he seemed to have interpreted my mortified expression as a sign of utter refusal. His smile trembled nervously. "Honey, don't feel pressured in any way by my old wrinkly palm."

"I told you, I'm a sceptic," I laughed it off, still inwardly panicking about the fact that I seemed to have lost track of my cycle entirely. Mentally, I was trying to count days and days, weeks back when I should have gotten my period.

"Are you sure you don't want to? It's... enlightening." Pedro ripped me out of my internal freakout.

"Eh.... m'okay then." Reluctantly, I knelt and placed my right hand into her open palm, anticipating what she had to say about my future.

The way Pedro held me, I knew he was not telling me something. His hand roamed up my arm and held me close, allowing me to tuck my head underneath his chin and close my eyes.

"I want to stop time," I told him faintly, both frowning and smiling bitterly against the light cotton t-shirt he wore. After filling my lungs with the scent of him, I exhaled deeply.

"Me too." He replied lowly. Pedro raised my hand to kiss the inside of my wrist and trace it to my ring finger like he imagined he could feel the little bump of an invisible wedding band. Maybe he could somehow, reduce the lines on my palm that predicted more misfortune than he had been willing to translate.

His voice took a joyful tone. "You know, I thought about taking you to my favourite little cinema just a little uptown, walks through Central Park when the leaves are turning brown. Maybe we could make a list of all the nook restaurants to visit, antique book markets in spring, picnics during summer." He said, treading on the future path we'd create ourselves, take matters into our own hands. It was our freedom to act on our wishes.

I closed my eyes and smiled, picturing us in said scenarios and scrunching my nose when I locked eyes with him again. "You didn't mention winter."

We exhaled the same kind of grin together. "Winter in New York sucks. Um, art galleries?" He promptly suggested. "Hey, maybe Sharon's vernissage still stands-" I snorted at his outrageous misplaced humour.

I roamed my palm across his broad chest, finally going back to simply relaxing. "I can't even imagine feeling cold now."

"We could hide out winter at my house in LA." He thought and though I loved every part of his idea, I let out a sound of protest.

"Christmas without snow?" I pouted and couldn't bare the loss of my favourite season. I was inclined to look up at him when he turned me on my back, facing me as he propped his hand underneath his chin.

"But Christmas is when the family meets up in Chile." He tried to gently get his will with that sly grin of his. "You don't wanna come and join the family trip with me this year?"

I gasped at the invitation and didn't mind him popping the romantic idea of cosiness and snow outside. Pedro was still very much a family man. "Let me introduce them to my beautiful, talented and-" His hand travelled down to prey on my weak spots and I prepared to be teased. I was already grinning and squirming to protect my sides while his soft voice lured me into this daydream. "-incredibly funny girlfriend who can kick my ass at hiking."

I started giggling when his hands purposely found my ticklish parts. "Yes, of course. I'd absolutely love... to- ah stop, no! I said I want to!" I escaped his hands and felt my heart slam in my chest at the sight of the happiness projected on his face. "Yeah?" He matched my giddiness.

I nodded happily, curling my fingers into the floof of his dark hair. "Allow me to buy your nephews gifts? Not just play secret Santa for my little sister this year."

"Thank you. I'm so lazy." Pedro replied with a dramatised amount of gratitude. I thanked the stars I had found the man I wanted to share all these things with, be my family and become his in return. I was too in love with him to imagine these feelings could ever do anything but grow with each and every day. I loved him like things of lightness are to be loved, out in the open somewhere between the sky and my soul.

Pedro looked between Señora Martínez and me, translating softly as she took a closer look at my love line. "She says our hearts are very old friends that always end up together in one way or another in each of our lifetimes, friends, lovers, family." He beamed happily but my elation at our newly recognised soulmate status was interrupted when she talked to us in a different pitch, frowning. "Ayayay. Unlucky little girl." Señora Martínez shook her head at my palm. "She sees a troubled beginning in your life and a lot of... suffering. Happiness has settled in your life though, you have a very fulfilling but difficult time ahead with a change of career-" Pedro raised his eyebrows at me as to say that, right, this was exactly what was happening. "You'll need to look after your health." Pedro hesitated with his translation, purposefully not mentioning her mumbling something about my odd, disrupted lifeline.

He stopped entirely, frowning when he skipped over a part I didn't understand myself. "What?" I asked, frantically looking back and forth between them and tried not to panic when he skilled his expression. I knew he wouldn't tell me the really bad news. "She just tells you there are two meaningful relationships in your life, both of them resulting in..." He swallowed and my gaze snapped up at her.

"Que significa 'sufrimiento?" I asked her and was met with a compassionate expression.

"Um, it means heartbreak." Pedro's voice sounded frail but he regained his cheerful spirit when Señora continued pressing her finger into my palm. "But she sees much love and life in your future, she says there are two children." He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Really?" I repeated, an octave higher than normal. "Two' children?" I pronounced the difference between our predictions.

Pedro was unaware of the worries weighing on my mind. "She says she's never erred in her life." He confirmed.

"Oh, that's reassuring." I protested, taking my palm back and bidding the wise old lady a polite thanks and extending goodbyes.

I squeezed her hand with both of mine and felt her gently tugging me back before I could let go. "Pase lo que pase, nunca te rindas con tus sueños." The old woman instructed me and I nodded, barely whispering a promise that I would never give up on my dreams.

"She has spoken." Pedro declared sternly to lighten up the mood, referencing a certain similarly wise Star Wars character he had gotten acquainted with. Not helping, I thought. We didn't match and everything would come back to heartbreak.

Slow steps took us down the path back to our hotel. "Palm readings don't tell anything that's written in stone." I crossed my arms stubbornly after we had walked back to the terrace.

"She didn't strictly say we're not compatible just that..." Pedro didn't know how to conjure up a different kind of interpretation. "We're both happy in our future. Nothing else matters."

"She clearly saw two different paths for us." I mourned, tried to explain my 'two meaningful relationships' and couldn't imagine I would ever love again if something severed our bond. It seemed extremely premature and downright scary, planning on starting a family and thinking about ever going through all of that before we even hit our one-month anniversary. I would count myself lucky if our careers allowed us to stay together. The idea of another heartbreak made me spiral. "Even if we were married and divorced one day, fair enough but not having the same number of children makes matters pretty clear," I evaluated, feeling overwhelmed until he gently pried my shoulders towards him and made me face him again.

"Hey, mi esposita-" he referenced Señora Martínez and cast a smile on my face. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna keep you on your toes unless 'you' show me out the door." He told me calmly and reassuringly, from the bottom of his heart. "Understood?" He added and caught my waist within his giant palms, raising his eyebrows encouragingly.

"Yeah." I grinned against his lips instead of kissing him. "You mean before or after I kicked you out because you had a child with someone else?" I pretended to be jealous of a hypothesis and snickered, bumping my shoulder into his arm once we'd continued our walk.

Pedro's jaw dropped. "Let's just promise to share custody, okay? I can't-" He babbled and succeeded to make me laugh. "And by the way, I'm pretty sure she meant that I've got one more kid than you because I have Grogu, my first." He joked and made me snort out loud.

"Ooh- that makes so much sense!" I exclaimed and we continued walking hand in hand, feeling at peace with where our path was taking us as our light conversation seemed to fade in the distance.

I felt Pedro drape the sheets further over my body. "This is the first time I have to let you go." His voice sounded so sad and I realised that perhaps it would never feel easier someday.

"Maybe the third man listens to one single note and he will send me on a plane back home immediately." I tried to console him, imagined Jack White frowning at my guitar plucking and just... leaving the room. My heart would shatter.

Pedro made a face like I couldn't get away with this utter nonsense. "No, you're gonna make all of them drop to the floor and worship you for your talent, you'll see." He promised me and traced his thumb over my cheekbone, seeming to feel conflicted about whether he wanted to look at me or kiss me. I pushed my face into his shoulder bashfully, which he chuckled about but also seemed to understand as a challenge. "Are you going to be good?" He asked sternly. A wide smile spread across my face at the fond but patronising tone.

"Yes." "Will you kick some ass?" I giggled when he raised my chin with his finger. "Yes." "That's my girl." Pedro tugged at my chin with a wink and I hoped the moisture in my eyes would not develop into tears. "The world needs more badass female guitar players, that's for sure."

A shallow sigh escaped my lips. "You really think so? I still don't even know what kind of musician I am."

"You're a rock star." Pedro encouraged me and his grin softened while he sought out his words. "Though... when you play your quiet folk songs, it's the definition of pin-drop music. You know, sometimes I think it's like some people carry the sun in their voices and some the moon. They differ in tone but not in beauty." He let his bloomy descriptions spill over, trailing soft patterns on my hip underneath the covers and pulling me closer while I hung to his every word. The pools of his dark eyes shone with admiration and his voice dropped impossibly deep. "I feel I could compare your voice to the soft glow of winter moonlight." His sweetness caused my heart swell and glow brightly. A sudden uncontrollable need made me kiss at every bit of skin I could reach and sample some of that sweetness he seemed to have been made of.

Pedro huffed in amusement at my reaction. I lowered my face into the junction of his neck, rolling my body into his and begging for the sexy part of our evening. "Heartbreaking. Beautiful." He managed to say before giving in and he pulled me with him, first to extinguish the bedside lamp on his side and then on mine after he had rolled on top of me.

I hummed, forgetting every bit of worry at his heartwarming happy chuckle. I breathed out as I opened my legs for him and framed his hips to pull his weight down on me. "You can say such nice things." I shuddered at the slight sting of his teeth biting into my skin and for the first time in months, I let him.

He worshipped me with hot, open-mouthed kisses, sucking at my skin from my neck to my jaw. "I had time to think about that description. I might have swooned over you to a couple of people." Pedro confessed with a smirk against my lips. I cooed and draped my arms around him, giving myself to him when he claimed my mouth in a searing hot kiss.

Tonight, I could sense a quiet kind of urgency beating inside his chest which I sought to remedy with a gentle touch to whichever body part of his seemed to need a reminder of my devotion. I could relate, for I felt his presence healing this tightening feeling inside my chest.

I begged him for the dark purple marks his mouth would leave on my body. Pedro sank his mouth down my jugular, wet heat closing around my skin and bruising it when I couldn't get enough evidence of where he could put his signature on my body. A reminder that I was his, even with them fading with time.

I buried myself in his arms and he stole the breath from my lungs, kissing me and making tender love to me. Pedro seemed starved to fill his fix and not less able to satiate, drawing out our entwined state of being for as long as his body could withhold the release.

In the calm of the afterglow, I closed my eyes in worship of his warmth and basked in the feeling of being so wanted in return. We felt more like the comforting heat of glowing ambers rather than the intensity of a fire burning strong and bright and it felt like something had to ring true about kindred spirits. I had found the most comfortable position right in his arms and gotten so sleepy that even my hand had stopped exploring his skin.

"Don't fall asleep," I whispered drowsily, looking towards him with heavy eyelids and realised he had them already closed. "M'not. Just... resting my eyes." He replied with a raspy voice and I sighed contently when I found him struggling to stay awake just as much. I let myself drift away when I was sure he had lost the battle against sleep first.

~~~

The clouds below looked like pale cotton candy while I tapped the end of my pencil against my bottom lip in the absence of my mind. I was scribbling away time on my flight to Tennessee, hoping the only reply wouldn't remain the echo of a memory. But just like always, Pedro gave me something I could dream about. At least nothing's complicated in solitude, I thought and wrote down the name of the song I had dedicated to him.

The Lighthouse And The Ocean

"You and me, in guidance and saviour or in reverse, my darling," I said to myself softly, missing the distant light in his eyes and the sparkle in their reflection whenever he watched me accomplish something and pride myself on it.

I drew waves and seagulls around the page as I imagined the melody of my guitar play paired with the harmonising sound of a cello. Mouthing the song to myself, I felt like I had written something truly meaningful.

I had managed to finish the new song during our first hours of separation and had written the final lines into a proper notebook. How sappy of me, a love confession at last. A perfect moment I could wait for a little while longer and look forward to until I could show his song to Pedro for the first time. It was written with so much love and yearning, for his absence was more than just noticeable.

His fragrance was deeply embedded in the highly huggable, striped hoodie I had stolen from him and when I pulled the knitted material to my nose, a picture found its way to the back of my eyes. A dimpled smile in front of a blue ocean, simply perfect and full of contentment. It distracted me from everything else, clinging to the fabric and smelling like what warmth felt like. A subtle dark scent, a cue for masculinity and protectiveness wrapped itself around me in a caring embrace. He had climbed into my heart and fixed himself there like a pin on a map, marked himself onto paper between my recorder and a flute of orange juice. No champagne... just in case.

An anxious feeling spread inside my chest and my hand redirected to rub at the pendant around my neck instead of travelling down my body. I didn't dare to cover my belly with my hand, out of fear that I'd start to sense some kind of connection I hadn't felt before. There had been too many people with cameras at the airport and I hadn't been able to buy a test then. I had been pushing the slight possibility of being pregnant to the back of my mind but it gnawed at my stress level the more I thought about the mere concept of having a baby.

What little else I could think of other than picturing Pedro with our child, happier than he ever was, raising it into the air with a laugh on both their faces before he kissed their chubby little cheek.

All of that and more... including putting everything on hold instead of grasping for the stars.

I hid behind my hand to mask my conflicting feelings about motherhood, both our skyrocketing careers and the fact that it was way too soon for either Pedro or me.

I thought about my mum. A new wave of sympathy shone on her memory. Despite everything, she had been the kindest and most gentle mother to me. Pedro would be the best father in the world, I was sure of that. I wasn't so sure whether I would be a good mother.

The world below just looked too wide and promising when we breached the clouds.

I walked out into the light, a cooling hum of North wind joining the scent of country and kerosine across the airfield. The air was no longer sweet and spicy. Still, I breathed long and thoroughly when I stepped out of the plane and let a chilly wind blow around my hair. Compared to the sunny warmth of Mexico, the midwest felt like negative degrees, yet the sudden shift of priorities was enough to brace me against the cold. On this bleak autumn day, I found there was an invincible summer within me and a clear path ahead.

I typed Pedro a message next, letting him know I landed and saw he'd tagged me on his Twitter. I grinned at the distraction of his recent Tweet, a picture of the consolation prank I had left on the pillow of his bed.

'My girlfriend thinks she's funny', it read and I retweeted the pineapple fruit that wore his aviators with a thick moustache I had nicked from the make-up team.

'Javier Piña'. I retweeted at him, giggling to myself at the possibly best way of how the announcement of our relationship could have gone.

I pulled out of the airport with my guitar case and the usual travel dirtbag look with the addition of Pedro's hoodie. This time, there were no cameras to capture my arrival as I walked toward the exits.

Halfway through the doors, I saw my agent waiting for me by the gate, grinning with her hands placed in her pockets. "There she is!" Olivia squeezed me after I had run into her arms to hug her. "On a scale from one to ten, how excited are you?"

"Eleven!" I felt sick in anticipation and showed her my shaking hands she failed to soothe. I admired her flawless, sharp blue eyeliner complimenting her high cheekbones and dark skin. "Where do we go? Is the band already there?"

"As well as the cellist you requested before your plane took off." Olivia chastised me with wide eyes, retrieving part of my luggage and walking towards the exit with me.

I had the decency to at least look guilty at the bold challenge I put her through on such short notice. "Sorry." I smiled up at her. "I just think my new song would benefit from-" "Well, long as you're happy. Guess where I found them." "The cellist?" "Playing in a New York subway station, today. Luckily, they immediately agreed to play with you and came with."

The spontaneity of this situation caused my eyes to widen dramatically. "You like picking up strays, huh?" I referred to the night we had met, when she had taken me under her wing, had literally picked a young and lost me up the floor of a hotel corridor. She both laughed and sighed as put her arm around me again, maybe also to subtly cover the hickey on my neck.

My so familiar gold and orange hues turned to blues and greys as tall and shiny buildings came into view. She steered us off the highway and away from the billboards that advertised lawyers or promoted... Christian slogans that promised that 'your baby is a blessing'.

"-because there's a big divide between substance and nonsense in pop culture these days." Liv talked on but I hadn't been listening at all. "They like to channel this substance, make it genre-less."

I returned the occasional non-verbal sound of attention.

"Welcome to the Gulch," Liv announced and I knew I should have said something. "You're awfully quiet." She noticed, glancing at me as I leaned my temple against the cool glass.

"Yeah," I commented, squirming in my seat and acting skittish at every bump in the road. "I just... hope I'll fit in. First time I don't know how to act because I don't have to play my part, you know?"

Olivia nodded. "Then be yourself." She replied pragmatically.

"Well, I appreciate the advice but..." I grinned a bit awkwardly, finally daring to do something about my uncertainty. If I was pregnant, I won't be able to do all the things I was currently dreaming of. No concerts, no backstage parties, just responsible adult things with a little human to care for. "Liv, can I ask you for a favour? Can we stop at the next pharmacy?" My face heated up in embarrassment.

"Yeah, are you alright?" "Of course, I swear I don't have a problem." I gave back, a little too harsh. I'd rather have her think I had. My inability to stay cool turned into an advantage and so, I acted nervous and pretended to have told an obvious lie.

Olivia shook her head. "I hope you have a prescription for that." "Don't need one." "Nini, there are healthier ways to cope with-" "I'm okay!"

"Alight, sorry... Jeez, what got your panties in a twist?" Olivia sceptically eyed my insulted pout. "I think there's a Walgreens down there, think you'll find what you need?"

I sighed at the prospect of a possibly crowded place. "Yeah, sure. That'll work." She stopped right in front of the store and I donned my sunglasses, treating her to a thin smile before I sprinted out of the car and ran in.

"Clearblue rapid detection... or First Response?" I panicked at the insanity of needing this 'family planning' section and figuring out their variety of products, always checking if anyone could be watching. I snatched a pregnancy test and a random other package to conceal my buy before anyone could see, keeping myself hidden behind my sunglasses and assumed the cashier didn't know who I was. Perhaps the funny look on her face was merely the result of my weirdly frozen smile as she scanned the test and pack of random vitamins and painkillers.

With the test hidden underneath Pedro's hoodie, I skipped back to the car and let out a huge breath of air as soon as I was back inside.

"That's it? Paracetamol and Vitamin D? You look like you've had plenty of sun." I ignored her, not caring how insane I acted and only getting rid of my sunglasses once we were one street ahead.

I was panicking internally to stack my pregnancy test away before mum could see. "I should have changed. I should have changed clothes before meeting bloody Jack White. I look like a slob." It was like I had been bitten by a rattlesnake before I climbed into the back, right between the seats. It was all part of the scheme. "Do you mind?" I was already behind the driver's seat, shimmying out of my baggy ripped jeans and Pedro's comfortable clothing.

Olivia kept her eyes on the road while I checked my suitcase for a pair of all-black jeans and a turtle neck that conveniently hid my hickeys. The jeans were halfway up my thighs when she slammed the brakes and I banged against her seat. The pregnancy test flew off my lap and underneath the driver's seat, sliding until it met Liv's feet. "Kut!"

"Watch the fucking road, asshole!" She yelled. "Fuck, sorry." Liv honked at the car in front of us again while I got a grip on myself and hopelessly tried to reach for it. "Wait, don't. It's just-" "Hold on, let me grab-" she pressed through her teeth and before I could protest, had bent down while waiting at the stoplight, to retrieve the test for me.

An awkward silence followed when Olivia checked the package. "Nini!" She suddenly turned around and I shrunk back into the seat. "What the hell is this? Oh, you think you're being sneaky again, huh? My g... are you-" Her eyes widened in horror like my baby was her worst fear.

"It's green!" I yelled back instead of properly answering, trying to get the test back before she could threaten to throw it at me. My voice shot up an octave as we fought for the test. "And no, I don't know! That's why I have to take a bloody test, for fuck's sake! Ow." She tossed the test back at me and it dodged my shoulder.

I could see her eyes through the rearview mirror flipping back and forth as I violently pulled my turtle neck over my head and sobbed childishly.

"No wonder why you're acting so weird," Olivia tutted at me and finally seemed to have gotten over the worst shock. "How late's your period?" She asked calmly as we drove into a bleak neighbourhood.

I sniffed, getting myself together. In all this muddle, there was a potential new life and how could I guarantee its wellbeing if its mother was acting like a petulant child herself? "Fuck." I laughed out loud, feeling simply overwhelmed. "About two weeks? I might have skipped it entirely, I don't know!" I admitted.

"Okay." Olivia processed slowly as she continued driving. "Let's not jump to early conclusions. Are you experiencing nausea?" "Not really." "Breasts feel tender?" "No?" "Girl, weren't you burned out about a week ago?" She asked, repeating how I had explained my holiday to her. "I was," I admitted.

She seemed visibly more soothed and it rubbed off on me. "Damn... oh, sweetheart. Take the test, okay? But don't freak out until then. You just might have been under a lot of stress."

I sighed at her lack of ability to take this seriously.

"Does Pedro know anything about your... scare?" She asked and I got overwhelmed by the thought alone. "No. I didn't have the time yet." I got more annoyed by the second. "Not sure if I should if it's a false alarm." I realised I was spiralling into old patterns before I even finished my sentence. Shit. There was my next level of progress. I had to tell him either way.

"Good." She helped me calm down. "Keep your head in the game, have the meeting with Jack and then pee on the stick tomorrow morning."

"Easy peasy." I gave back in a monotone. An incoming message distracted me and I was both hoping and fearing it was Pedro.

16:05 - 'Hey-, he had spelled my moniker with a music note, a bird and a heart emoji. 'Glad you're ok. Nervous? You got this, baby!!!

I typed a quick message back, promising I'd call him tonight and sent at least a dozen hearts in response to his selfie with him making a kissy face at the camera.

"Oh, god he's so adorable." I whined to myself and sighed. "He's such a sweetheart, I know he'd be such a great dad. Liv, I'm gonna be honest, I love Pedro but I'm not ready for a baby, not now." I had finally admitted, closing my burning eyes and praying I could deal with this situation in case I really was pregnant with his child and the sheer impossible, outrageous idea of getting rid of it.

"Poor thing." She commented and then changed her attitude with a fond look on her face. "Love, huh?" She repeated and I nodded, smiling again.

Olivia tapped her ringed fingers onto the steering wheel along with the sounds of a Stax classic... that ironically used the word 'baby' way too many times. "You're both gonna fine, you'll figure it out, hm? Breathe."

I hadn't even realised we had stopped but we waited, patiently, while I breathed and calmed myself. The dark warehouse outside seemed modest enough to conceal an entire music empire.

Maybe it was due to the countless times in my life when I had needed to pull myself together, but I knew that acting professional was more important than my current problems. "I'm ready." I decided after a while and blew a strand of my hopelessly wild hair from my face.

Though I missed the warmth Pedro's hoodie had provided, the reason why I shivered was due to my utter restlessness. The excitement was still very real and rooted in the very deep personal connection I felt towards the artist within.

Liv led me and my guitar case off the grey street and towards the low building before we finally stood before its entrance. Bold letters below a static Tesla coil inflamed the black walls. Third Man Records headquarters, the birthplace of the vinyl record Renaissance.

"Hey." She grabbed my shoulders, searching for eye contact for the stern pep talk she gave me. "You got this. You're gonna go in there and show them what it is that you want in life, woman. Focus."

"Focus," I repeated after her, letting out a huge breath through hollow cheeks and looking up towards the door. "Hoo boy." I swallowed at the sudden notion that my dreams might come true here. If they liked me. If they liked my music... which nobody heard aside from my perhaps very biased partner. Fuck, that suddenly added a lot of pressure.

"Anything I should be aware of, beware of maybe?" I asked, sorting out my priorities and hyping myself up with the notion of making a good first impression on my music idol.

"No, they're all so cool here, it's ridiculous." Liv stopped. "Wait, there's one thing." She hesitated, foot stuck between the door as her eyes narrowed. "Don't mention the Black Keys."

I gaped like a fish. "Who?" I pretended to not know the band and provoked a rare full smile from her. "Exactly."

"Wow." I held my breath as soon as I stepped inside. I didn't know where to look and didn't know what else to do but to move around and exclaim a 'woah' in front of every exhibited bit of unique analogue machinery. It wasn't just a record store, it was a pilgrim sight for true music junkies.

The sound of an electric blues guitar rang through the novelty lounge, reflecting off the yellow and black walls. From the corner of my eye, I registered Olivia walking ahead further into the building. "I hear, Jack's waiting for you in the blue room. Ready to meet the Rock'n roll wizard?"

My fingers stopped dancing over the racks of released vinyl issues. "Wait, that's him playing?"

We walked across the high-gloss floor past the fascinating knick-knacks, into the venue. A distortion pedal overloaded the signal and made the guitar sound rude. Liv stepped aside so I could join.

A few people were sound checking together, busy jamming in a blue bar with a giant elephant head and Persian rugs covering a blue floor. Cables and wires were splayed out everywhere around instruments that connected to amplifiers, mics and more pedals.

Jamming with a diverse group of people, he had his back half turned, facing the other musicians and bopping his head to the rhythm. The source of a wicked guitar play was rooted in the steady thrum of his fingers on the neck of his electric. Jack laughed at a particularly odd and mellow sound the pedal caused and which a badass-looking female drummer hesitated to address.

Jack dressed like a Tim Burton character who wore a pinstripe suit and hair that was a rich artificial bubblegum blue. His skin was white as a ghost and his mephistophelian eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, eyes closed as he was lost in figuring out the new sound. Skilled and unmistakably his, was what I would have called his play.

I would have been content with listening for ages until Jack looked up from his guitar and spotted me in my corner of the room.

"Oh, my Lord." He mumbled amused and caused all heads to turn towards me. He put away the guitar and stood at full height, which was taller than I had expected even after he had gotten off the stage. At first sight, he was a good-looking man, a little scary or perhaps, I was just battling my nerves. He had a wicked glint in his eyes and a placid smile that confidently supported his bad boy appearance. "Nini, welcome to Third Man." He quickly offered me a hand and pressed it with a calloused palm. His smile was sympathetic and his handshake sturdy enough to make me feel taken seriously and not like a fragile little flower some newly acquainted men decided was the proper way to greet me.

Before I could even respond, he checked out my guitar case. "Is that a Takamine?" He pointed at my instrument, reading the label.

I gulped. Be cool, I told myself against all instinct to freak out. If these guys were supposed to be the epitome of chill, so could I. "A nineteen-eighty-eight limited edition. Half acoustic." I replied proudly, still star-struck.

"Nice sound that one, can't wait to hear it."

"I'm afraid I need new strings though." I gave back, humbled. "It's-" I gathered my courage. "Amazing to meet you, Jack. This place is beautiful." I knew my eyes were sparkling when I finally thawed under his friendly words of 'thank you's. "My, I think I was a little girl last time I saw you at a White Stripes concert in Amsterdam."

He and also everyone else smiled at my admission. "No kidding." Jack kindly didn't freak out at my fangirlish approach. "Wait, Nini van Fleet was at my gig as a kid?" He turned towards the group of strange musicians who chuckled at our interaction.

"I was about ten meters away from the stage, it was incredible." "Wait, when was that?"

I remembered it like it was yesterday. "2005, Heineken Music Hall. You and Meg got out there, you started playing 'Black Math' on your iconic red airline guitar and just blew my mind." I laughed at the memory of that wild adventure. "Literally the day my life changed forever," I told him with shining eyes and it might have sounded like a blatant exaggeration but if it hadn't been for the White Stripes, I'd have never run away from home. My life would have looked a whole lot different.

Jack picked up a cigarillo that had been smoking abandoned in an ashtray. "Well, happy to see you back around. Hold on, meet the people you'll be playing with." He led me towards a group of people I immediately vibed with even before we all got introduced. Bass, drum, second guitar and keyboard, including a very sweet and somewhat shy cellist who wore second-hand clothes and thick, askew dreadlocks and couldn't quite believe they were here.

"And now you want to show your talents to the world?" Jack put his hands on his hips. "Heard great things about you." I was pleasantly surprised by his softness even though he seemed to constantly scowl at the world.

"I can only hope to live up to whoever boasted." I joked with a sideglance towards Olivia. "Yeah. I learnt these days how much I want to be valued for what I say and what I do, not be sold as an object on screen, you know."

"It's common to confuse the actor with their character." He agreed, crushing his cigarillo. "The perfect Hollywood sweetheart?" A shaggy blond guy named Ben suggested with a disapproving yet sympathetic side glance. I quickly got the notion. The spirit of the analogue: yea, Netflix and invisible consumption: boo.

I stuttered awkwardly. "Maybe this career change is good for me. I've got more to give." I compromised.

"So, your music is something you seriously consider pursuing." Jack narrowed his eyes when it took me a while to search for words. "It's unusual for us to promote an artist who's already famous, normally we favour newcomer artists."

I couldn't stop my heart from sinking to the floor and I swallowed thickly. "I get it. I would be hesitant too about giving a possibly delusional and mediocre and entitled Hollywood brat a platform." I played it off but then, felt all of my suppressed anger for the movie industry pour into my rant before anyone could interrupt my assumption. All my career, I'd been patronised, spoken down to. I had sometimes been the only woman on set, often for the accessory of the film, sexualised from a very early age. They called me an overprivileged actress because I hadn't been my own spokesperson in productions made by throbbing misogynists.

"I'm tired of being a prop, Jack," I explained, briefly looking back at Olivia and receiving support from her by a simple, yet encouraging nod. "I love acting. Acting is my life but I've never stood for something authentically me. This... my songs... this is me and I'm tired of the public dictating my image. I have so much more to give, and so much more to learn. I spent the majority of my life trying to appeal to people who don't even care about a single word that comes out of my mouth." I laughed ironically but Jack listened, taking my passion seriously. "I'm done with being acceptable to people I don't even like. Doing this will keep me from resenting myself and hopefully inspire people to be more than what society expects of women." I raised my chin at the guitar hero in challenge. "Especially in a male-dominated field."

Standing before me with crossed arms, his face remained unreadable for a second. "I like you." Jack eventually said with a relaxed, little smirk and a sigh of relief got stuck in my lungs. "Tell you what we're gonna do." He went back on a serious note, proving what a great boss he was by saying exactly what it was he wanted. "You've got a great band here... and time to create your songs before you're gonna record the blue issue single directly onto acetate. A shoot in the blue room, pressing and release-"

"Wait, directly?" I repeated, aghast, not moving past that little detail.

He smirked. "Yeah, any mistakes make the best part of the song. You know, let's just have a great journey, we're not story driven but if the record is good, who cares? Don't worry about the perfection of the songs, anyone who complains about it didn't really get the point."

Olivia was right. They were cool. Too cool, even to bother when the pitchforks of this biased industry would try to come for me.

"So, no pressure, just don't think about things that could ruin it," Liv added and regarded my pale face with a meaningful side glance.

"Think the music world is ready for what you have to contribute?" Jack frowned and awaited my answer.

I stood my ground and balled my hands into fists. "Yeah," I confirmed.

"Good, let's give you the tour." Jack carried himself with such swagger, I forgot to follow him for a second while he had already resumed talking back in the novelty lounge. "We'll do a couple of hundred limited edition design records back in Detroit and a big run of black vinyl for mass market," Jack explained, all business. "Bigger name artists are selling more vinyl than they have in thirty years. We love doing gimmick albums but we don't throw all of our tricks into the sink. Excuse my French-" he had turned to lead the way. "-but we're not trying to fuck a doughnut, you know."

I leaned over to Olivia as we followed. "What does he mean?" I whispered but she shrugged her shoulders.

The surreal uniqueness of this place surpassed my entire imagination and I marvelled at this music video thing called a scopitome. It felt like I had gotten a golden ticket to a chocolate factory and curiosity fare but for music nerds. "You're Willy Wonka," I exclaimed during our tour.

Just like that, it seemed the ice was broken. "It's been already fun meeting you, so far." He glanced back over his shoulder and we shared a quick laugh, which he ended with a shake of his head.

Ben lead us to a large booth. "And this-" he got my attention back from a diorama of a little puppet monkey band. "-is the voice-o-graph, nineteen-forties vending machine. The only one still in use apart from its twin down up in Detroit." The co-founder introduced a narrow and very old cabin that had more features in common with a telephone box rather than anything to do with music.

"Amazing!" I said, staring like an idiot. "What does it do?"

Jack stepped in, showing me a clear, six-inch plastic record, twirling it between his fingers. "It records one of these plastic records that fit two and a half minutes of music. It cuts your record and fends it out to you."

"That's bloody brilliant!" I cursed around, exhilarated. An idea struck me. My chuckle sounded dim in the very limited space of this booth. "I can barely fit a guitar in here." I calculated, eying the analogue technology of the recording system. "But I wanna try though, if I may?"

"Show us what you've got." Jack said and I grinned at the very 'hands-on' approach. I ran back to retrieve my instrument and tuned my guitar on my way back to them.

It only cost a couple of dollars to feed the booth. "It's... my choice of song for the B side with only guitar and cello. I just realised the first time I ever play it would be the perfect gift for the person I wrote it for. My-" I hesitated, not wanting to seem like every song I had written was about a lover. Pedro and I hadn't been dating for very long. I knew Pedro was the one but they didn't know that. "My boyfriend," I admitted anyway, shyly.

"Sure, go ahead." They let me in and shut the door behind me. I couldn't move around much. "Tight squeeze. Glad I'm not claustrophobic!" I yelled and heard them snicker. I stepped towards the mic, noticing this was my first-time experience recording one of my own songs in front of other people, or anyone who wasn't Pedro, for that matter.

"Oh, this is all terribly exciting!" The lights told me to prepare myself, machinery whirred and I watched all kinds of things happening in here. The red light alerted the start of the recording, the countdown started and I decided to jump into cold unknown waters by closing my eyes and letting the world cease to exist for a moment. This was for him.

"Hello, Pedro," I spoke into the mic after the recording had started spinning. "This is for you, just a reminder of how much I love you, angel."

I began with a calming, yet complex tune that was only dimmed by the use of a deeper and richer sounding drop of the E-snare to D. Softly, my voice smoothed over every syllable. My eyes remained fixed shut so I could feel every ounce of the words I sang, with every fibre of my being.

This one would show Pedro how great my love is. My love language was to sing his praise and dedicate my music to him because he deserved it. That's how it was. Good people do good things, and good people deserved to become a song. Seconds left until the record would end, I only played the echo of my jagged melody.

Once the record was complete, the booth played it for me and I listened with the door open, so Jack and the others could hear it too.

The audio quality did some real crimping and I had cut several chorus parts short but it had a forties nostalgic charm to it that put a smile on everyone's face, including my cellist who listened attentively and mimed the play of their instrument along with the melody.

I wiped a tear from my eye when I exited the booth and breathed, smiling happily at the band who seemed touched by the sweetness of the song. I circled my now pressed record in my hand. "I didn't know how else to say it," I commented on its sentimental message and sealed Pedro's song into a cover, ready to be sent by post.

Jack smiled, understanding passing through us when his voice thawed. "How, if not in music?"

Looking into the faces of my company, I had struck a chord within them. "It's beautiful," he said in a serious tone. "You're really... really fucking good. Hold on." Jack stepped closer and feeling intimidated, I hugged my guitar a little tighter. "Do you have more of these?"

"Yes?" I stuttered. "Tons."

He turned towards Ben and mouthed a 'wow' at him, causing me to blush furiously.

It was like I could see the determination turning a switch inside his head. "Play with me." He challenged me, holding my gaze. "Tomorrow night. The venue is open, we'll do something together."

I gaped like a fish and if I hadn't been so eager, I might have cried. I gasped. "Oh, sweet! Fuck, yes!" I didn't know how to vent my excitement about this development.

A wide grin spread across my entire face and played it cool last second by bumping my fist into his shoulder and making everyone around feel the celebration of the start of something new.

Part 22

Translation notes:

(sp): Eres un alma gentil, sí - (eng): You are a kind soul, yes

(sp): Veo buen fortuna en tu vida con tu esposita. - (eng): I see good fortune in your life with your little wife.

(sp): Mira- la linea de los niños. Uno, dos, tres niños. - (eng): Look- the line of children. One, two, three children.

(sp): No, lo siento. Por favor esto debe ser un error - (eng): No, I'm sorry. Please, this must be a mistake.

(sp): Pase lo que pase, nunca te rindas con tus sueños - (eng): No matter what happens, never give up on your dreams.

(sp): Javier Piña - (eng): - Javier Pineapple

(dut): Kut! - (eng): cunt ("fuck!")

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal rpf #pedro nation #pedro pascal/oc #pedro pascal fanfiction series #pedro pascal ff #pedro pascal ao3 #pedro pascal actor fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fandom

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danielxrk · 5 years

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✞ YOU NEED ME * I DON’T NEED YOU

-- before --

life is a whirlwind. he foolishly spent the early days of april breathless and hoping for respite, thinking surely, god would take pity on him and make april a month of peace. maybe, finally, something that shook him to his very core wouldn’t happen month after month. maybe he could move past a drunken kiss with a boy on valentine’s day, and past that boy’s appearances on nova’s new survival show-- past a confession of love from a different boy the month after. maybe he could move past all of the extra time spent with joohyun, her delicate hands still wrapped around some piece of his heart, despite all of it-- despite that heart being torn in a hundred different directions more than ever. he’s always been flighty in love, always hesitant, always uncertain, but this is worse. maybe he’s spent two months with a certain sickness in his stomach that just keeps getting worse.

he doesn’t think much of the announcement of trc’s new auditions; in fact he’s almost certain he won’t go. there’s too much going on his life, both on an interpersonal level and with empty enigma, namely their new album in its final stages. if he didn’t want to be a trainee during the mgas, he certainly doesn’t want to be one now. and yet he can’t say no to joohyun, and a mutual pact that if he goes she’ll go. if that wasn’t enough, jinah encourages him to go, too. hehow does he always end up here?

at first, he makes the same mistake as he made with the mgas too: thinks there’s no way he has what it takes to get signed, and vows to do his best. he practices his dancing with joohyun, and it brings back memories of similar on the mgas, and maybe he’s even worse now. she does her best, and he’s grateful for her, but as the days go on, fear takes root. he fears another audition-- a contract in his hands. he fears stealing opportunity from others where he doesn’t want it. he can’t settle on a performance anyway until he decides he’ll just stand on stage with his guitar. he’ll sing and rap, but if he doesn’t dance, surely he can’t win. surely he’ll get to stand on stage, then go home, and return to his life as he knows it. (what is life as he knows it now? he doesn’t know.)

joohyun probably suspects as much when he doesn’t ask for her help with his dancing anymore, and when he plays guitar for her instead. sure, he could do both, but he won’t. he doesn’t tell her, either.

-- april 14 --

sundays at his mother’s church of choice are always filled with a certain tension for daniel. whether it happens or not, daniel always feels some kind of torn apart by her, and her friends, and the church that preaches less love and more perfection. still, he suffers through it for his family’s sake, and knowing that because he does this, his mother lets him go to church with his grandmother the other three weeks of the month.

the drive home is uneventful, and daniel relaxes, glad the worst part is over with. (but the worst is yet to come.)

they eat lunch, dad drifts away to do work, mina goes upstairs to her room, and it’s daniel and his mother. they clean up the table together, collecting dishes and silverware, and it’s when his mother passes him, returning from the kitchen back to the table, that she stops. she grabs him by the bottom of his ear, and he tenses on instinct, despite not knowing what comes next.

“are your ears pierced?” she asks, and her voice is equally piercing.

“yes...?” he answers, because the evidence is there. there’s no point in lying about this.

“why?” she has that look on her face: the raised eyebrows, the tongue laced in criticism, the heavy, inevitable disappointment. “daniel, where have you been?”

what lie does he spin now, to join the others? i’m going to study, i’m going to work, i’m going to the library, i’m going to haknyeon’s, i have work, all to cover up empty enigma shows and rehearsals and album preparation and friends she wouldn’t approve of and the fact that he’s raising a dog with a girl that she does like, if he remembers right. when does it stop?

now, he decides, finally. he is carrying too much weight around. soon his chest will cave in, if he doesn’t get rid of something. this has to be it. “mom, i have...a lot to tell you.”

so he does. he tells her that he loves music, and that he’s in a metal band-- about empty enigma, and that they’re his best friends, some of the best people he’s ever met. he tells her it’s been a year and a half, that he hasn’t been going where he’s told her, that he’s been performing shows, and going to rehearsal, and working on an album, but that his grades are still good-- that he can handle it-- that it’s okay.

she looks at him in silence for long, deafening seconds. his ears ring, and he meets her gaze, not fearless, but anticipating. “okay,” she breathes at last, and he lets out a breath of air the tension kept in his lungs. “i’ve raised you how i thought i should. it’s your life, and you’re old enough to make your own choices, so you can do what you choose with it.” he’s so relieved. is that it? he gets his hopes up.

“but,” and it comes crashing down again. he hangs on every word. “if you want to do this, you won’t do it while under my roof.”

he expected it. no, he expected worse, really. in this there is a promise that their relationship will continue as it has so long as he moves out, and if he’s going to make choices without her approval, that he needs to take steps to be entirely independent. as the moments stretch on, he thinks it’s fair. he understands, and if she can’t accept this about him ( oh god, there’s so much worse she might need to accept) then he doesn’t want to live with her anyway.

“okay,” he agrees, but it still stings.

he doesn’t have an apartment, and he doesn’t know what to do, so he calls the first person he thinks of-- the first place he would want to go in a situation like this: ha sungwoon.

he doesn’t hesitate as long as he should. he calls, and when sungwoon picks up, he resists the word sorry on the tip of his tongue. “so, i told my mom about the band. she wants me out of the house today. do you guys...have space for me on your couch?”

-- after --

it’s not as bad as it could be. it’s not as bad as he expected, daniel, always expecting the worst. the empty enigma members are still his best friends, and they still assure him that it’s no trouble-- still welcome him with open arms, and he claims he isn’t upset. he doesn’t think he is, but he knows he needs them, anyway.

it’s not even as bad with sungwoon as it could be. maybe they’ve gotten their awkwardness out of their system, as much as they tried to play it off like nothing was wrong in front of the other guys to avoid questions. he doubts they succeeded, given the sheer amount of concern for sungwoon daniel has been unable to shake since his birthday, trying to tiptoe the line of taking advantage of his feelings and treating him the same as he did before. by the time he’s sleeping on his couch, though, things feel almost normal, or he can delude himself into thinking so.

kenta helps him with apartment hunting, and minhyun makes sure he’s eating well, and jihoon offers his own form of support, in his typical nonchalant jihoon way, or maybe daniel just finds the consistency he brings comforting in a time of such turbulent change.

he still feels that weight on his chest, though unveiling his secrets to his mother provided some relief. maybe it’s spending so much time around sungwoon that makes it progressively harder to breathe, or the ever-present fear that he’s overstaying his welcome with his friends, or his sudden dissatisfaction with the song he’s practiced for the triple threat challenge, on top of everything else, but eventually he just needs to speak. minhyun becomes his unfortunate victim, and he tells him everything-- not naming names, of course, and the burden becomes easier to carry when it’s shared with someone else. he’s grateful.

still, he considers backing out of the triple threat challenge altogether. he just doesn’t know if he’s up for it, and yet there’s some tiny flame in his soul that craves the stage again, as daniel, away from empty enigma and his storm of feelings and fears surrounding them. so, he does what’s natural: overhauls his performance and starts preparing a new song five days before the performances.

he doesn’t have anything against empty enigma; he loves them with all of his heart, actually, but he’s introverted, and spending so much of his time around four other guys takes its toll, not even considering the one that’s in love with him whom he himself has undetermined feelings for (???). he wants to perform without them, and this seems like his best chance.

so he’ll do it, and he’ll do it with confidence, throwing caution to the wind.

-- after --

even with all of the performers preceding him, and their talent, he isn’t shaken. it’s different from the mgas; he doesn’t feel so out of his element here, though he’s far from a triple threat. he never claimed to be, and he won’t. instead, he feels oddly settled-- ready, even as he cheers for joohyun and tries to maintain his composure during her performance. he sees other familiar faces too, both among the performances and those who haven’t performed just yet.

they call him up to wait backstage, and he does, trusty guitar hung over his shoulder, fingers tapping on the body of it, without a pick-- just him, his guitar, and his voice. just daniel, though maybe he’ll bring a little bit of cameo too.

he’s up next, and he strides onto the stage, and grins when he looks out over the crowd. empty enigma’s venues are always smaller-- darker lit. this is more reminiscent of the mgas, and he feels at home instead of daunted (though maybe still a little daunted.)

“i’m kang daniel,” he greets. again. do you remember me? he wouldn’t be surprised if no one remembers, but he hopes they do. “this is an ed sheeran song.” he’ll leave the title as a mystery for now.

he starts strumming, a quiet sound, and launches into the rhythmic singing-rapping style:

cause with the lyrics i'll be aiming it right i won't stop until my name's in lights with stadium heights, with damien rice on red carpets, now i'm on arabian nights because i'm young i know my brothers gonna give me advice

you need me, i don’t need you is a song with more spunk than daniel originally thought he was cut out for. who is he, someone no company has need of, to stand on stage and claim ‘you need me, i don’t need you?’ no one, really. he doesn’t know if he means it, though he doesn’t think he does need a big company to love music and succeed with it. empty enigma may be far from a famous, fortune-producing band, but they have their fans, and they have their heart in it, and that’s what matters to him. that’s what he wants to pursue, more than anything, and the longer he practiced this song, the more he believed it, even with all of its references he didn’t always understand-- even with its rapid-fire english that sometimes still felt more comfortable to him than korean.

but still, there’s very little time to breathe.

long nighter, right height and i gone hyper never be anything but a singer-songwriter, yeah the game's over but now I'm on a new level watch how i step on the track without a loop pedal

he made small alterations to the lyrics during the preparation process to reflect him more, kang daniel, so it felt believable, because the song is nothing if not genuine. at it’s core, it’s about staying true to yourself, about not changing for others, and maybe he needed to perform this song instead of the one he practiced before it because it’s so relevant. it’s for his mom, and anyone that would look down on him for loving music, not just something cheeky to sing to tiger jk’s face, though that’s an added bonus. (maybe, once the familiar performance bravado fades, he’ll feel embarrassed. maybe the gall will disappear, and he’ll be left with that even more familiar, ever-present fear. for now, he doesn’t feel it.)

people think that i'm bound to blow up i've done around about a thousand shows but i haven't got a house plus i live on a couch so you believe the lyrics when i'm singing them out wow, from day one i've been prepared with V05 wax for my silver hair so now i'm back to the sofa giving a dose of what the future holds

again, the relevancy. it’s only fitting he sing-raps a song about living on a couch while literally doing so, and that he can sing this is evidence of his growth. he says silver hair, a reference to cameo, his still ultimately secret empty enigma stage persona, with ease, something that would’ve paralyzed him with fear around six months ago. for him, what the future holds is empty enigma’s album, and if this performance is at all impressive, they’re so much stronger together.

i’ve still got a rucksack full of old clothes, i rap with the cold flows i’m back with the old jokes, in fact you don’t know ‘em tracks that throw blows and make my punchlines relevant if you can’t keep up you’re getting on my ??? my flow’s developing, skin lacks the melanin give me a shot of adrenaline and i get it in do it for the hell of it ‘cause ever since i hit the mainstream with team c i seem to sell a bit

yes, do it for the hell of it, like he’s doing this, right now. he wrote in a reference to his first team on the mgas, too-- team c, perhaps the only team that didn’t come up with a special team name that first week, replacing ed sheeran’s original mention of his first single, the a-team. it seemed only fitting, if this song is about his journey now, too, and he wants it to be so.

i took my ??? back with the women then i package the image put in some content, then i sold it back as a gimmick the fact is this end up dating actresses wake up on dirty mattresses i think i need to practice this

this is the part of the song he can’t relate to as much, because as flirtatious as he is when cameo is on stage, and in the after-parties after, he does not wake up on dirty mattresses (except for that one time.) he didn’t rewrite it though, instead, keeping it in to keep the rhythm the same, and because it just seemed to suit the song. it wasn’t worth changing.

the song is so fast, he doesn’t get a moment to rest from it, his mouth spitting line after line one after another. when he first started practicing, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, like he was having an allergic reaction, and maybe he isn’t really a good enough rapper for this. maybe he didn’t give himself enough time to practice (though he already knew the song well before he even considered performing it, so that helped). in the end, it’s fun, and that’s what matters most.

the next part might be his favorite:

but i make shit happen, call me a laxative world’s on my shoulders, i don’t even know what atlas is hot bars sharp like the cactus is i’m back to rapping back to back ‘cause i’ve been practicing i’m baptizing this

if only because he gets to say shit in front of tiger jk, and he will bear the consequences, should they come. he’s already censoring the song further down the line, and if he’s going to be ballsy enough to sing this song in the first place, he’ll be ballsy enough to sing the word shit, damn it. the whole world was on his shoulders before he stepped on this stage, but he feels lighter now, suddenly, and he’s been practicing too. rapping wasn’t a skill he really knew he possessed until now, but one he found himself enjoying, and dare he say, with a natural knack for. maybe some of that empty enigma screaming transferred over, and he wouldn’t be daniel without some reference to christianity, would he?

finally, the chorus comes, and it’s the closest thing to a break he gets, returning to the more familiar comfort of all out singing.

cause you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you at all you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you, no

it’s the first time he sings the words, and what the guitar crescendoed to up until now, and he keeps a confident, borderline smug look on his face-- tries to look toward tiger jk and make eye contact. if he’s going to do it, he might as well sell it. he’s heard the ceo appreciates boldness. maybe he’ll entertain him, at the very least. or maybe the ceo will think it’s massively disrespectful. time will tell.

i'll keep my last name forever, keep this genre pretty basic gonna be breaking into other people's tunes when i chase it and replace it with the elephant in the room with a facelift slipping into another rapper shoes using new laces i'm selling CDs from my rucksack aiming for the papers selling CDs from my rucksack aiming for the majors nationwide tour with just jack, still had to get the bus back clean cut kid without a razor for the moustache

another opportunity for him to change the lyrics to something to better suit him, because he admittedly doesn’t know what just jack is. his guess is a band that ed sheeran toured with, but he couldn’t come up with something that suited both himself and the song, so he kept it. empty enigma hasn’t done a nationwide tour, anyway; they’re all just big dreams. they’ll still just be selling cds from a rucksack and aiming for the majors.

i hit back when the pen hurts me i'm still a choir boy in a thin church tee i'm still the same as a year ago but more people hear me though according to the naver and youtube videos

lyric changes this time: fenchurch to thin church, taking a brand name he didn’t understand to something that reflects his background, and how his first real introduction to music was in church-- how he first sang in a church choir and his mom only let him listen to christian music for the longest time. he changed myspace to naver, something more time-relevant and daniel relevant. a year ago was before he set foot on the mgas-- before he even knew he loved music, while he still wasn’t even sure if he loved empty enigma. he still thought it was all a phase, and something he’d escape from, eventually returning to a life of safety and monotony. even with the events of 2019, he’s still glad for that year of difference. he’s thankful.

the guitar all but cuts out, nothing but daniel’s voice and a few accents from strings for the next part:

i'm always doing shows if I'm not I'm in the studio truly broke, never growing up, call me rufio melody music maker, reading all the papers they say i’m up and coming like i'm effing in an elevator

ah yes, there it is: the elevator line, something he would not have the courage to sing by himself in the bathroom, let alone on stage in front of tiger jk and at least 100 people, were it not for the power of cameo. with this extra bravery, he sings it casually, as if it’s the same as the other hundred lines he’s spit. what’s more important: he’s been working his ass off for music, as the lyrics suggest, and he’ll find fulfillment in that, with or (preferably) without trc’s help, that much is certain.

in comes the final hit of the chorus, the figurative sigh of relief and sign of his two minutes up on stage, jam-packed with content, coming to a close. it’s the explanation point on the end of a performance he poured his heart into, both now and leading up to this.

'cause you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you

#rkttc2 #joohyunrk #rknvna #rkxsungwoon #rkminhyun #rkkenta #jihoonrk #rkrxcky #indirectly #;ee #;solo #;youneedmeidon'tneedyou #( * what a monster of a solo #i just used it to cover all of daniel's development in the past couple months #probably didn't tag everyone mentioned i'm tired #his hair is blond ic and these gifs aren't That Relevant but he didn't dance so no performance gifs!!#also worth noting that he finishes this like the end of the vid )#( * i had to transpose some of these lyrics myself too bc there were none for this version omg u can tell because of the ??? LMAO )

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laur-rants · 2 years

Note

seeing your markiposting for ISWM has finally given me that kick to go binge the other series as well and I'm VERY EXCITED, BUT! is there a certain order to watch them in, are there any guides for how to proceed through them (if that makes sense)?

Hi! I would love to! I'm taking a break from work to eat some dinner, so I thought I would sit down and see if I can't help you out the best I can. I took myself through all of Mark's creative ventures on my own, and successfully took a friend through too, in a way that I think makes everything best make sense. Now there's a couple of ways to go about it that I can give you: there's the chronological order of events, and also what I call the 'Lore Route' which is to say, this is the best way to watch everything and have it more easily click mentally.

NOTE: Just as an aside before we start, you CAN start with Space, right now, if you want to. It's not really directly linked to anything .... at this time. Anyone can enjoy Space, and they should! It's really great! But I think to get the full effect of not only Mark's characters, but how far he has come as a creator in his own right, the other endeavors should be appreciated first.

And if you do choose to watch all the stuff below first, TAKE YOUR TIME. You have plenty of time. Space part 2 doesn't release until May 2nd. So if anything is long, take a break! come back to it. No need to consume it in a day, you got time, baby.

ANYWAY!

Here's my preferred method of watching (pertinent to Space) Markiplier's Cinematic Universe:

-A Date with Markiplier (12 endings) -- I have people start with this because it gives you a taste of what Mark... does. This was his first foray into the first person interactive experience, where the Viewer is, actually, a character and a starring role in his stories. It shows where he's been, and how far he's come since then. It's also just, silly and fun and a little spooky. It's very Mark. It's a good thing to dip the toes into.

-A Heist with Markiplier (31 endings, not all are important, but they are fun and there are plenty of guides out there) -- Heist is a LOT of fun. It's what I watched first and it actually plummetted me down the pipeline because I was like 'WOW! Mark has all this thought out really well! And what is that referencing? And this? I want to know' and wow I really learned! Heist was, at the time, Mark's Magnum Opus (I think Space is actually that now). It's really well made, he's very proud of it, and through dedicated tracking of routes, I finished it in about a day. I would tell someone to take their time, and back track slowly, and you'll find the endings that are important. Also a tried true clue in any of his interactives is to look at the video length. and choose that way haha. But yeah! Good luck~

-Who Killed Markiplier 1-4 -- THIS IS WHERE IT ALL ACTUALLY BEGINS. All the story, all the characters... even yours! Who Killed Markiplier is older, and I dont think Mark had perfected his story-telling skills at the time, so things at the end may be a bit jumbled. It's okay. Typically look no further than the youtube comments on the 4th vid. Or ask me! I know it pretty well whats going on by this point, I can steer folks in the right direction. The point is, the community has had years to piece it together, so its mostly all sorted out.

-Wilford 'MotherLoving' Warfstache -- Direct follow-up to Who Killed Markiplier, and is conveniently in the WKM playlist. This is personally one of my favorite things Mark has ever done; I rewatch it on occasion for inspiration. Also the acting is just... chef's kiss. Phenomenal. Definitely worth it, if only for Mick Lauer and feels.

-Damien -- This is an animated piece that Mark got a game studio to help him with! It also takes place right after WKM, and around the same 'time' as Wilford Motherloving Warfstache. It covers his character Damien, who I personally have a very very large soft spot for. You could even say he's my favorite. uwu

-The Warfstache Automated Interview Automaton -- This is a very short interactive dealing with Warfstache creating an automaton to conduct his interviews with, because he cant' be everywhere at once. My biggest advice; just pick the longer videos until you get to the end, otherwise the only other option is death. At the end, choose either ending you prefer. It's here because it's feelsy.

[Some fun extras that arent required also include]

-Warfstache Interviews Markiplier

-Markiplier TV

-Wilford 'MOTHERLOVING' Warfstache FULL BREAKDOWN

-WHY KILLED MARKIPLIER? (Damien animated short explained)

And I think that's everything.

NOW. IF YOU WANNA DO IT CHRONOLOGICALLY...

That's a little more convoluted because in Mark's universe time is.... weird? And things sometimes happen simultaneously, or in the future, or in the past, or the past is happening during the future... basically time is meaningless.... sometimes. Here is what I think is the best guesstimation of the chronological order of things.

1. Who Killed Markiplier

2. Wilford 'Motherloving' Warfstache

3. Damien

4. Markiplier TV (yes this is real i swear)

5. The WAIA

6. A Heist with Markiplier

7. A Date with Markiplier

AND THAT'S IT!!!

I personally don't recommend the 'chronological' route because everything is kind of confusing that way, but it's there if you wanna do it! I just think Mark's work is best enjoyed from both a story perspective and a creative one, so my route seems to be the best for both worlds. Sometimes, things are not meant to be seen chronologically (and i dont think Mark's stuff is), but people like being chronological so for you guys out there, THERE YOU GO.

I personally, as a creator the same age as Mark, I have a lot of respect for the work he does, and what he chooses to do with his time, his money, and has surrounded himself with a solid team who goes along with his crazy ideas and in doing so, they are making something insanely great. Obviously feel free to enjoy his silly gaming or review videos or whatever else he puts out, but his creative projects should 100% in my opinion not be overlooked, because it's him bringing his stories to life and doing what he actually is passionate about and cares about, and he then offers these ambitious creations to everyone ~*~FOR FREEEE~*~. Which is more than a lot of people can say these days and more than we deserve.

Anyway that's enough of that. Enjoy the videos, have fun, and if you have any questions let me knoooow~! I'll..... do my best to answer, haha, but honestly there are fans out there way more well-read than I am. I think.

#markiplier #iswm #in space with markiplier #a heist with markiplier #who killed markiplier #damien #wilford motherloving warfstache #and everything in between #asks #bluebayard #i hope this wasn't overwhelming.#i sometimes get comprehensive with this stuff #and it turns long winded #oops #slurps noodles

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itsyourboychristopher · 4 years

Photo

--bang chan--

words - 4.5k

warnings - phone sex, mutual masturbation, hints of D/s, slight angst, bunch of fluffy and sassy couple talk

note - i had to reupload cause apparently trying to fix the warnings on my phone fucked everything up, but here you guys go!

--------------------

You stared at your phone screen, completely entranced by the Instagram video in front of you. It wasn’t anything too crazy, just a short video of your boyfriend Chan during the fan chant video for Levanter. You had watched the video earlier when it had first released, and here you were watching it again for the thousandth time. Between his hair, the eyebrow slit, and just that fucking face… he just looked so good.

“Hellooo…? G’day, mate!”

Wincing, you jerked your head back into your pillow in shock as you heard Chan’s voice loudly in your ear. “What the hell was that for?”

“I called your name like five times. You kind of zoned out on me. Is everything okay? if you need to go to bed, you can. You don’t have to stay up to talk to me, you know.”

“Uhm... to be completely honest, I got distracted,” you answered as you rolled onto your left side. Making sure the blankets didn’t twist as you continued to lie in bed staring at your phone, you snuggled into your mattress.

Chan gasped dramatically, making you roll your eyes in fondness. “How dare you? And here I was telling you an amazing story.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrows rose. “What kind of story?”

“Mhm. May I ask what got you so distracted?”

Fixing your headphones that had gotten tangled when you turned on your side, you made a sound in your throat as if you were thinking about it. “I mean I guess, but you have to be cool about it.”

Chan’s voice went from teasing to curious. “Cool in what way?”

“Well…” You watched the video of him one more time before smiling wickedly. “I found myself distracted by this really hot guy I found on Insta.”

You could practically hear the badly hidden jealousy in his voice, and you took a moment to relish in it. “Oh? ...What’s his name?”

“I think his name is Bang Chan? I don’t know,” you teased as your smile softened. “I think he’s in some kind of kpop group. They recently posted a video on YouTube of a fan chant? I don’t know what those are or even what they’re saying, but this Chan Bang guy really just looks hot as hell. His hair is tousled and kind of off of his forehead, and that one prominent dimple when he smiles? Mmmmm,” you fake a whiny groan. “And that eyebrow slit? Fuck.”

A slight sound on his end was heard after your fake whine, and you smirked while watching the video again. A hint of warmth caused a short throb in your clit, and you remembered just how sexy he could be when jealous. “There’s just something about him that’s so attractive. I would totally leave you for him to be quite honest.”

He chuckled. “You don’t say.”

“Oh, yeah. ...Hey! You live in Korea, he lives in Korea; do you think there’s any way that you can get me his number?”

You knew he was probably rolling his eyes at you at this point. If you didn’t know any better, you also thought that he was most likely blushing from the compliments. The two of you had known each other for so long that you practically knew him better than he knew himself, even though he lived a 20 hour plane ride away.

“Yes,” he replied back with a hint of sarcasm. “Let me totally get my manager to contact his manager, and I will one hundred percent be behind you leaving me, your long-term boyfriend of three years, so you can date this ‘Chan Bang’ dude.”

“Thanks, babe! Who knows, maybe I’ll let you watch us have sex for funsies.”

“I can’t wait,” he deadpanned. “Oh! That reminds me actually. Did you ask off for the tour? Hopefully I can see you at least once since I’m coming to Miami and you live in Orlando now. That’s only what, five hours?”

“In good traffic, yeah,” you agreed. Narrowing your eyes in confusion for a moment, you chuckled quietly. “How did me talking about sex remind you of the tour?”

Chan jokingly scoffed, earning a judgy face from you. “Because it’s been six months since I’ve last physically saw you in front of me, and I’m horny as hell and want to have amazing sex with my precious girlfriend who I love deeply.”

You felt a blush erupt onto your cheeks from his words. After taking a moment to calm down, you winced, and hoped he wouldn’t be able to tell that you were going to lie to him. “Uhm, well… that’s the thing? I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”

It became quiet on his end, and while you knew you were actually going to be there for most of the tour because your manager understood the situation and allowed you the time off, you still wanted to try and surprise him. You were going to be able to be with him for weeks, and even share a room with him, and you wanted to personally see the smile on his face when you told him so. The silence from him though told you how much this lie hurt him, and it brought an anxiety pain to your chest. It’ll all be worth it when I surprise him in Atlanta. I just have to keep telling myself that. His reaction will be worth it.

“Really?” He finally asked quietly with a hint of raspiness in his voice. “I thought you said that your GM could most likely give it to you? You said since the tickets and everything were gonna be paid for, that you just needed the time off since you have your savings from the money I send you.”

“Yeah, I still wish you’d stop sending me money-”

“-I’d spend it on you regardless, even if you actually lived here-”

“-and I thought he’d let me, but since I just recently got promoted to being a manager, it’s a little harder than I thought. You know how Disney property is… the tourist season never ends.” You heard Chan sniffle, almost making you want to give in and apologize. Just knowing that you were hurting him even if you were making it up to him later made this hurt you way more than you expected. “Baby, please.”

“But you don’t work for Disney, you’re third party, so you said it was easier to ask off.” He sniffled again before clearing his throat. “LIke I know that I kind of signed up for this when we decided to go out and were finally able to but wow, this really sucks. Why don’t you seem more upset by this? It means it’ll be almost a full year before the next time we can see each other again in person, and not over FaceTime or just talking on the phone.”

You felt tears sting your eyes at the reminder of the distance, making you bite the inside of your cheek as you attempted to hold them back. “Trust me,” your voice cracked a little bit without meaning to. “I am upset, I just didn’t want to let you know how much.”

He sniffled loudly at the slight whine in your voice, and you heard things shuffling in the background as if he was wiping his eyes. “This is definitely not how I intended this phone call to go.”

“I know, Chan. I’m so sorry. ...How did you intend it to go?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat a few times as if he was trying to return to the earlier moment. “I was trying to tell the story about my last trip to the gym so I could hopefully turn this into phone sex, but now…”

“Oo, you know how much I love gym stories.”

Chan snickered quietly, making you smile, and you slowly felt the grief from before lifting. “I know, that’s why I was surprised when you said you got distracted, but now knowing that it was because of a video of me and that it was turning you on…?”

“If you’re still down for it, I’m totally into turning this back into a phone sex call. It’s been a minute, and to be honest, all of these videos of you have been teasing me. Plus those new pics and vids of you as an airline captain? Fuck, Chan.”

“I miss you so much and I’m always so fucking horny; I’m always down, baby girl.”

The warmth from earlier returned to your crotch, making you bite your lip as you rolled onto your back and let your left hand roam down to your breast. “I actually prepared a surprise for you to make up for not being able to go on tour. I’m not sure if you can handle it.”

He groaned. “What kind of surprise?”

“How much time do you have before you need to go? And are you in a ‘not safe for work or the kids’ space?”

“Mmm…” He was quiet for a second, probably checking his schedule. “It’s 3:37P now, and we were gonna have dinner before getting everything prepared for Inkigayo so… an hour? And the boys are in different places. The only one home is Hannie-ah, and his room is on the other side of the house. Plus my door is locked, so even if my roomies came home, I’m pretty sure that after years of living with me they know that if I’m on the phone it’s most likely with you, and they know to most likely stay away.”

Your nipple had become hard underneath your shirt from your teasing. You pinched it which made you release a small groan as he finished speaking.

“Baby girl,” he growled. “What’s the surprise? You better show me before you touch yourself. You know the rules. You can only touch yourself when I tell you to when we’re on the phone.”

“Sorry, sir… it’s been so long since you’ve last punished me that my hands have grown bold.”

“I’ll make sure to remind you when I see you next.”

“Please do,” you purred.

Releasing your breast, you quickly went to the Kakaotalk app where you and Chan texted each other daily, and sent him a teasing picture of your newly bought black lingerie. There were multiple pictures that you took of yourself modeling in them, and the one you chose just showed you in one of his oversized black shirts that reached your upper thigh. You wore stockings with garters that were just barely visible, and you knew those alone would make him instantly harden since stockings with garters were his favorite. The sexy pose was simple; just you standing in front of your full-length mirror in your bedroom with a hand lifting the shirt slightly above your left thigh, up towards your hip. Your left leg was bent and you faced the mirror at an angle, that way he could see a hint of your wonderful ass from the side.

You heard when he received it; the gasp he let out turning into a gravely moan.

“Is that my shirt?”

“Mhm.”

“And what looks like new lingerie too?”

“Bought just for you.”

You heard shuffling on his end of the line again, and noticed his breath had started to pick up. “My dear Chanstopher, are you touching yourself from just the first picture?”

“There’s more?” He sounded slightly scandalized, making you hold back a giggle.

“Of course, silly. There’s an entire ensemble that I modeled with. I had to make sure you got to see all of it,” you teased, making sure to use a slight French accent on the word ‘ensemble’.

“May I see the rest of it?”

You tsked him. “A Dom begging? So unbecoming.”

“You are walking a very fine line, baby,” he growled. God, I love it when he does that!

“I guess since you asked so nicely, I can send you another one. If you were already touching yourself before, just wait for this next one.”

Going through the photos, you chose the one where you’re sitting on the bed in front of the same mirror with your legs drawn wide, using that same hand from earlier to lift the shirt up to right below your chest. What was really going to kill him was the sight of the pink app controlled vibrator sticking out of your black lacy underwear, and the resounding moan that released from his lips when he received it made your clit start to throb incessantly.

“You were wet at just the thought of me seeing these, yeah?” His voice sounded shaky, and you swore that you heard his hand gripping his cock solely based off of the timbre of his voice.

“I’m always wet when I think of you, Sir.”

“You being a good girl?”

Biting your lip, you nod as if he can see you as you grip the sheets with your left hand. Returning back to his rules; you laid your phone down on your bed beside you as you waited for him. The only thing that existed in your brain now was Chan and whatever he had in store for you. “Yes, Sir, I’m being a good girl. I always want to be your good girl.”

“Go grab that vibrator from the picture.”

You took in a shaky breath at his command as you squeezed your thighs together, giving yourself a hint of pleasure. “But you’re not here to control it,” you whined.

“No, I’m not, but you’re going to follow my commands, yeah, baby girl?”

“Yes, Sir,” you whispered breathlessly.

Flipping the covers open, you feel the sting of the cold air that you and your roommates normally kept the apartment at hit your skin, causing goosebumps as you left your phone and headphones behind. Your room was normally colder than the others because you had the master and it had the most outer walls compared to the other rooms, making it super cold even in December in Florida. Normally you liked it, but right now, with how heated your skin had become, it felt like a mild punishment from him. He calls me baby girl and suddenly I become a dripping wet human furnace.

Walking into your bathroom, you opened the drawer connected to your sink that housed your toys and pulled out the required pink vibrator. You hastily went back to your bed, dying to be under the covers. Putting the headphones back in your ear, you got comfortable and held the vibrator on top of your stomach. “I have it, Chan.”

“What’re you wearing?”

“Uhm,” your eyebrows kit together in confusion, having expected a command. “I’m actually wearing the same shirt in the picture. It’s my go to for bed. All of your shirts are.”

“And your underwear?” He asked.

“The blue boy shorts you saw the last time you visited.”

“Mm, I just want to set the picture so I can help myself along. Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Sir, but can I know what you’re wearing too?”

“I’m wearing my black Dolls hoodie and my black sweatpants.”

“Such an emo baby,” you quipped with a soft smile.

“Emo for you.”

The two of you laughed at his corniness, and when you both finally calmed down, he asked if you’re ready again. You told him you were, and you heard some movement on his end of the line, making you wait patiently for him as he most likely got comfortable.

“All right, my love. I want you to lift your shirt as high as you did in that last picture, and then I want you to turn the vibrator on the lowest setting.”

You do as you’re told, turning the vibrator on through the phone app. You briefly wondered what he was going to have you do tonight, and you loved the anticipation of it all. “I did it.”

“Good girl,” he rumbled nearly an octave lower than his normal voice. The praise and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to hear more of it. “Now I want you to lightly run the vibrator up and down your exposed stomach. Imagine I’m there above you, doing it as I suck on your earlobe.”

Your breathing started to pick up as you followed through, and the small vibration on your abs increased the warmth in your nether region.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes, sir. Can I ask what you’re doing on your end?”

“Of course, baby girl. Seeing those pictures got me hard, and I’m rubbing myself over my sweats as I picture you following my commands, dressed in my shirt,” he answered.

His love of you wearing his clothes was overly apparent, and it filled you with a sense of joy, knowing you pleased him.

“Do you like the pictures?”

“I love them. You are… breathtakingly gorgeous and sexy.” Chan groaned loudly, making your clit throb harder as you wished the vibrator could move lower. As if hearing your inner wish, Chan spoke again, “Now I want you to move the toy down to your pussy, over your underwear. Let it trace around your folds, but you are not allowed to touch your clit or slit. Follow my lead, baby.”

Whining loudly, your hand moved the vibrator as you opened your legs as wide as possible, and the second it touched your folds, you had to stop yourself from going straight to the source of your pleasure. You waited for what came next, knowing that by ‘following his lead’ it meant doing what he said he’d do, therefore helping you imagine him actually being there.

“I’m right there with you, moving the toy above your clit but not touching it as I slowly grind into your thigh. My mouth is working down your neck, having just reached the edge of my shirt. Moving my other hand, I lift the shirt further up, and the second your breasts are free I have your nipple between my teeth…”

“Chan—“ your chest started heaving as you tried to breathe. The mental visual of him being there, doing what your hands were doing was already messing with you. It had been so long since you had actually touched yourself, and even longer since you both were able to have enough time for phone sex that you were already lost. Your right hand continued moving the toy over your folds, while your left tugged lightly on your nipple. “Please, sir.”

“Sucking your nipple into my mouth,” he continued with a slight growl to his voice, “I move the toy down to your slit, still over the underwear. You buck your hips, making me press mine harder into your thigh, and as punishment for moving when I didn’t tell you to, I bite the skin of your breast, just hard enough for you to know I’m displeased. You can feel all seven inches of my dick on your thigh, and knowing it’s so close to your cunt, you moan into my ear.”

You followed through with everything he was saying, and when he said you moaned, you actually did as the vibrator seemed to barely touch you just below your clit. Just imagining that his perfect cock was right there, touching you, made you salivate, forcing you to bite your lip as hard as possible. It’s been so long since I’ve had him in my mouth. God, I miss it!

Chan seemed to moan along with you. Hearing his beautiful voice fill your ears caused your core to clench, making you whimper.

“Your moan caused my cock to throb so hard, baby. Imagining I’m with you feels so good. Do you feel it too?” He panted quietly.

“Yes, Sir—please, can I move the vibrator?”

“Yes, but you don’t get to touch your clit. I want you to put it into your underwear and to trace along your slit.”

Doing so caused your body to spasm slightly, and you felt your hips shake against the stimulation.

“Now I want you to turn the vibrator up to half power.”

“Chan! I’m so primed already—“

“Do as I say, my love.”

You groaned in frustration and removed your left hand from your breast. Grabbing your phone, you turned the vibrator up to half power, and the second it increased against you, you gasped loudly as your body spasmed a bit.

“Put it in, baby girl. Just like the picture.”

At this point you were panting through your nose, trying to make sure that if your roommates were somehow awake and out in the living room at nearly two in the morning, they wouldn’t be able to fully hear you. You were practically whimpering near constantly when you put it in, the toy setting your body aflame as it buzzed against your g-spot. Your nipples were harder than you thought possible as you ripped the blankets off of your heated skin. The chill in the air hit your soaked underwear, and the feeling of it rubbing against your swollen center caused your legs to squeeze tightly together. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you gripped the sheets.

“Now,” Chan panted; having come undone slightly knowing that you were filled with pleasure. “I want you to power through and send me another picture. Can you do that? After you send it you are allowed to rub your clit.”

“Yes, Sir,” you breathed in excitement. Squeezing your eyes shut for a second, you shakily reached for your phone and tapped the screen on. It opened at your face and you sent him the ‘live’ picture you had been planning on sending next—you with the shirt completely off now, your breasts full and heaving in a black lace push-up bra as your left hand played with your clit inside of your panties, the vibrator still within your depths, just like it was right now. The short video was only three seconds, but it was abundantly clear what you were doing.

The moan that left Chan seemed to echo within your mind when he finally saw it. The sound was so arousing that your hand immediately ventured into your underwear to rub circles into your throbbing nub.

At this point you could hear Chan moaning every few seconds. You were too deep into your pleasure to even fathom what he was doing other than fucking his own hand, but when your phone lit up and you clicked the message, a video of his beautifully veiny arm gripping his cock greeted your eyes. It was thirty seconds long, hopefully in reaction to your pictures, and you could see how undone he was as he jerked himself off. During the last ten seconds of the video you could see precum escaping the head of his cock as he squeezed the glands around his tip.

“Oh! I wish I could taste you,” you whined loudly. Your other hand was holding your phone, and your eyes were glued to the screen. The combination of your fingers rubbing your clit and the toy making a mess of your insides was getting you close, but you knew you had to wait for him.

“Yeah?” His voice was getting high and breathy which was a sign that he was getting close too. “I wish I could taste you too. You taste so good. ...Just imagine my head between your legs right now as the toy buzzes inside you. I’m sucking on your clit as hard as I can, making you buck against my face. Your hands are gripping my hair, tugging on it—fuck, I’m close, baby girl. I’m so close. I want you to come with me, okay?”

“Yes!” You loudly whispered. “Yes, I want you to come. I want to come so badly.”

The thought of him between your legs after such a long time began the tinglings of a large orgasm, making you curl your toes. Your hips were shaking as the warmth in your core increased, signaling your rapidly approaching climax. Your hand was moving fast now, rubbing your clit as hard as you dared as you heard him jerking himself off, attempting to hold back his moans. Just as the pleasure began to increase, you held your breath, wishing his hand was lightly gripping your throat as you attempted to hold back the orgasm just outside of your grasp.

“Baby girl—I’m, I’m gonna cum. I want you to come,” he said breathlessly in his haste. “I wish I was with you so I could cum inside. I know how much you love to be full of my cum. I—”

Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as your entire body spasmed, making you curl into yourself as you turned on your side. Your walls clenched fiercely around the toy, only making your orgasm last just that much longer. What part of your consciousness that still existed in that moment registered the sound of him coming on the other end of the line. He grunted, and you wished with your entire being that his cock was down your throat, letting you swallow his cum whole.

What was probably just a moment of mutual panting as the both of you tried to calm back down, it felt like an hour had passed. You weakly turned off of the vibrator so the overstimulation could cease, and just spent the next moment existing as your heart began to slow as the edges of your orgasm faded away.

“Baby?” He sounded just as wrecked as you.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Do—“ he took in a deep breath before blowing it out. “Do you need any aftercare?”

Licking your lips, your eyes fluttered open as you began to uncurl yourself. “No… I’m--I’m probably ready for sleep though. Let me, um, clean myself up and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I’ll be here, love.”

Leaving your bed, you quickly, but shakily, went to your bathroom. When you turned on the light, you had to squeeze your eyes closed for a moment--your eyes too sensitive after being in darkness for so long. As quickly as you could, you took the vibrator out, ignoring the shiver that ran down your spine as you cleaned it and left it out to dry, and then went to clean up the mess that was your nether region.

Two minutes later you were all clean, and with a fresh pair of undies, sleepily sliding back into bed and pulling the sheets up over you. Putting your headphones back in your ears, you tap your phone on and smile when you see the call was still on.

“Chan?”

“I’m here.”

Smiling, and ignoring the tears that immediately came to your eyes due to just how much you missed him, you cleared your throat while covering the mic so he couldn’t hear. When you were good, you moved your hand back and whispered, “I love you.”

It was quiet for a second, but when he spoke again, you could hear the smile in his tone. “I love you too. What do you need to fall asleep, sweetheart?”

“Just your voice. Sing me to sleep, Chanstopher.”

Chan hummed happily at the endearing nickname before whispering, “Your wish is my command.”

Within a minute of him singing you a ballad version of ‘Tenerife Sea’ by Ed Sheeran, you were fast asleep.

#bang chan smut #^#unlock^

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years

Text

Wednesday 25 May 1836

7 10/..

11 20/..

- A- to Cliff Hill - ready in ¾ hour fine but dull morning - out from 8 to 10 20 - set Frank and one of Robert Mann’s men to pull up and cart near to top of Godley Ing the stones of the old goit from the Godley Engine pit - to make a new drain or sough for the Godley water instead of running in an open drain under the trees of the old hedge between Sour Ing and Godley - Frank had one cart and 2 horses - Robert M- + 3 (Sam B- Jack G- and another man) levelling the hollow between upper brook Ing and Godley Ing barrowing the soil here and there where wanted - and Matthew (employed by Robert M- who began the morning by taking rubble off the road along the top of the coach house court) went before 9 to prepare wall-race (for David Booth) opposite the house - Wood poorly and not here today - Sam B- poorly (a swelling in his throat) and not at work this afternoon - so that Robert M- had 5 men this morning and 4 this afternoon - with David Booth shewing him how I would have the wall against the road done in front of the house - breakfast at 10 20 Mr. Washington came for ¼ hour at 10 ¾ to met Holt and measure for laying coal and water drifts, holing etc on the coal plan and to measure what land I had taken from what Pickells had - SW- thinks Mr. Joseph Aspinall of Brighouse would be a proper person to value the marsh farm stone - thinks it should be worth 9d. a ft. - not 12ft. thick - if 9ft. thick at 9d. it would = 6/9 per yard - I thought it ought to be worth 10d per ft. = 7/6 per yard - SW- said he bought for A- Sir Joseph Radclyffe’s estate for £11500; and Jones the steward said he would not have sold it to anyone else for less than £12,000 - £11500 to be price if no coal in it - some person named to be consulted after this - if no coal, the agreement drawn out to be signed - £1000 to be paid on signing on Saturday next and the rest the 1st of August - SW- said A- seemed glad and I said I was glad - vid. the last p. Sir JR-s’ estate bought for A- out at 11 - went to the top of the hill - some time with Holt and SW measuring -asked them about the gap in the measurements of coal got - said it was not intelligible to me - for the coal being sold surface measure, their measurements ought to have been made to tally - the people had paid for an acre too little - SW- excuses lame - said it would be shewn now when the colliery was opened and when we got up to Rawsons - yes! said I but who is to pay me - I at this moment remember Mr. Briggs telling me what a pother there was about the measurements and that John Oates and c° would not pay up - but JO- was the principal resister - Remember this – at

SH:7/ML/E/19/0049

Whiskum quarry - with John Bottomley walling up temporary against it in his Long field - then at Whiskum cottage and about till the men returned from dinner - with Robert Mann and c° (vid. line 5 of today) till came in at 4 ½ - 10 minutes with my aunt - then read A-‘s note and letter to her sister, and looked at the agreement for Sir JR-‘s estate brought by George this afternoon or morning on returning from the ponies shoeing at Ward’s - Mrs. AW- better but A- uncertain about her (A-‘s) return home - from 5 to 6 ¼ wrote a few lines on the vacant end of my aunt’s letter to Marian, to give A-‘s and my love and say the newspapers my aunt meant I should send Marian were the Yorkshire Gazettes, and that Marian could have anything else she might want by the box the carriage of which she needed not fear would be [ruinous] - punctuated as letter to her sister - wrote and finished my letter to M- began on Friday and dated that day, and the next, and today - i.e. the 1st ½ p. written on the 20th and 21st and the rest today - wrote today the latter ½ p. 1 and pp. 2 and 3, and the ends, and crossed pp. 1 and 2 - said she would see how I was subject to interruptions - beg to be excused once more - to be assured of my steady friendship and regard - 3 times in York, on business, since the death of my father - the last time, thought to be off for Paris last Sunday week - unsettled again as ever - nothing fixed - M- to believe nothing till she hears it from me - too much on my hands ‘one thing drags on another’ - cannot explain clearly on paper - ‘come and see whenever you like, but not just yet unless you give me a few days’ warning’ - household troubles - ‘the late dynasty did not make the rough places plain’ - only 2 women servants ‘a cook who cannot cook or wash, and a kitchen girl in her teens to do her own work, and households’ work - and I have got the widow of my steward Mr. Briggs to keep house, and her daughter to take care of her - can you help us?’ does M- know of a housekeeper? - ‘she might arrange the kitchen department to her own mind - we want but little just now, except order - no company’ shall be off as soon as we can - mention my French maid (Lecomte) having been with us a fortnight above ½ of it under M-‘s brother’s care - Mrs. Briggs not having lived in a gentlemen house, does not know how to set up - M- to tell us ‘how much beer should the men be allowed at breakfast, dinner and supper, and how much the women of tea, and sugar and butter and heaven knows what - again God bless you! I wish I had all knowledge - teas, sugars, water-wheels, hotels, and collieries, - all crowd together in my poor brain - oh! for the goodly cedar of the Jardin des Plantes at Paris, or some Alpine pass, or balmy breeze upon the Aegean wave! oh! that I could flee away for a little while and be at rest! my favourite wanderings would be rest to me - I know it is not stillness that can suit me - sometime I hope to date to you from the other side of the water - be it when or where it may, I shall always be with unchangeable sincerity very faithfully and especially yours AL’ I had told her somewhere in my letter of my aunt’s being amazingly well - and of her being wheeled ½ a mile from the house - sent off by the bag my aunt’s letter to Marian Market Weighton and A-‘s letter to her sister (Udale house Fortrose Rossshire) and my own letter to M- ‘Claremont house, Leamington, Warwickshire’ - dinner at 6 ¼ - had coffee in the drawing with my aunt - out again at 7 5 and had Robert Mann and Jack Green and John Booth removing and planting in the wood just above young oaks from the low place near the brook to the south east of the meer-clow which low place is to be raised with meer-drift stuff - planted also (but without the railing and in Charles H-‘s acre field near the 2 great larches) a sycamore lopped taken from near the hut, where the highroad overflow water drain is to be turned into the hut-extremity of the meer - kept the men planting till too dark to see to do more, that is, till 9 35 - I came in at 10 -with my aunt ¼ hour - very fine day - F48° at 10 ¼ pm

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crocgirl420 · 3 years

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naddpod anon here, happy almost new year (it’s 9pm rn)!!! listened to the finale, it was grea. the amount of damage hardwon dealt rocked me to my core!!! jaw dropped at how big those numbers were. i thought thiala’s ideology was very interesting and i appreciated how she was a complex villain. i am also with you that they need to #releasetheletter. the last time i heard a true DND show finale was TAZ, so i expected to know more about how the characters lives resolved, but i appreciate the (1/3)

ambiguity because it allows us to revisit them later potentially! idk if they ever would but it’s nice to be able to create your own ending too. it makes me v happy to know that you hate amir actually bc a shitty ex of mine showed me jake and amir vids and i did Not Get It but now that i like jake i was like “do i have to admit that i was wrong” but i trust that no i was not! it was just amir throwing off the vibes. i am watching unsleeping city s2 but i’ve only seen the first 2 eps cause (2/3)

i’m still living at home (i’m going back to my college city on jan 3rd so i will have time to consume lots more content like the rest of eldermourne past ep. 1). i love that murph is a paladin again because as emily says, he just is one at heart and it’s nice to see him enjoy himself like that. i think it’s gonna take a bit of time for me to become attached to cody like the rest of the gang but i dig that he’s almost an antagonist in a way! (3/3)

Happy New year!!!!!!! I love this update, thank you so much for sharing. like truly a really nice note to end the year on.

First, RELEASE THE LETTER. Jake said on a recent livestream that he sees it all the time because he typed it in his notes app and he doesn’t have a lot of notes or whatever so it’s just there whenever he opens the app. Idk if you have patron access/listen to the short rest, but for what it’s worth, after ep 99 Emily and Jake talked about their characters ~feelings for each other~ and it basically came down to Moonshine wasn’t interested in “settling down” or monogamy or whatever, and Hardwon just wanted to keep being her biggest fan. but they made it clear that there were def romantic feelings on both ends.

Second, I agree that Thiala was a really good villain! Like was she wrong and evil? yes. But murph really captured the grayness of it all where she would frequently make good points but like.......okay the answer to that problem still isn’t fascism? But I remain steadfast in this: Thiala is SEXY

After the finale I did go insane a little bit over the Thiala/Alanis dynamic and made a Thialanis playlist which is my most listened-to playlist of 2020. The Light by Stars is on it and Angels by the xx and Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars and a few other songs and it TRULY taps into something absolutely feral in me. Yes I've drank half a bottle of champagne already tonight. But like imagine you’re a genius stoner wizard bitch and you just saved the world with your hot nun girlfriend and your jock best friend and then all of a sudden your nun girlfriend becomes a fucking genocidal fascist dictator and you have to dedicate your next FIVE LIFETIMES to finding a way to stop her that doesn’t allow another fascist dictator to rise to power in her stead?

Third, I LOVE Cody. It might take you a second to warm up to him, but he builds a REALLY good dynamic with both Pete and Ricky. He really brings out the best in Pete and the worst in Ricky and it’s soooooo good. I just finished watching this week’s episode and I simply can’t get enough Ricky/Cody dynamic.

POTENTIAL ELDERMOURNE SPOILERS BUT JUST STRUCTURALLY NOT PLOT-WISE: caldwell is on paternity leave (!!!!!!!!!!!) so they’re leaving the current characters behind for a second and cutting, game of thrones style, over to another part of the world with new characters, and they just announced today that LOU WILSON is going to guest for the entire arc! I'm soooo excited! I love Lou, I think he’s SO funny and he’s a fantastic role-player. I think he’ll bring some really intense role-play out of Jake and I'm excited to see it!

love you! happy new year!!!!!!!!!! please continue to keep me posted, it truly is such a delight

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

Bully Boss Gets Owned

Hello. I have been enjoying the ProRevenge, NuclearRevenge, EntitledParents, MaliciousCompliance and IDon'tWorkHere vids on YouTube, and they just brought back all kinds of memories, so I thought I would post a few.

This one took place back in 2002. I had been an Over The Road truck driver and engaged for a year. I thought I would try to get a local job so I could be home every night with my soon to be wife. The wedding was only a few months away. She lived in a pretty small town. There wasn't much in the way of local truck driving jobs except for oil field or hauling dirt. I did find a dirt hauling company that was hiring.

The supervisor was a prick from the very beginning of the interview. He informed me that pay was $9/hr, and that's it. No raises, no benefits, even if you work there for over 20 yrs. Well, I decided to just go on and accept it as I knew that after we got married, my wife would be moving back to her hometown to accept a job, and there were plenty of driving jobs there.

My first day of work, the super-prick has me fill out the paperwork, and tries to force me to sign a waiver to decline Worker's Compensation should I get injured. He "promised" their insurance was far better, but I had already learned about many of those scams, and refused to sign it. This utterly pissed him off (tell tale sign that they are trying to screw you). So, I have to train with another driver for a week before getting assigned to my own truck, which is good so I can learn the routes and roads. I hear him tell the trainer to knit-pick everything as he doesn't want me on the crew. Unfortunately for him, everything I do is to perfection. The only complaint the trainer had was I tended to ride the clutch a little hard when taking off on the first day (was trying to get used to the extra heavy loads and very sensitive clutch), otherwise, I floated gears like a 50 yr pro vet.

So, I finish the week and get assigned my own truck. I do my pre-trip safety inspection as required by DOT regulations, and I noticed one of the steer tires is almost to legal wear.

Cast of characters: Bossman - boss or supervisor (super-prick); Trainer - my trainer; Me - engaged not so easy to pushover dude

Me: "Hey boss, Unit 12 Left steer is almost to regs. It's at 5/16"."

Bossman: "Sounds to me like you just don't want to work."

Me: "No, it's legal for now; just informing you that it's going to need to be replaced real soon."

Bossman: "Are you fu--ing stupid? I just replaced both of those steers 2 months ago. Now get in the truck, or clock out and go home."

Me: "I will drive it until it is illegal or unsafe to do so. But if I get fined, I have enough witnesses here, right now, to put right it back on you." I got in the truck and went to work. Bossman was peeved. But, two days later, I noticed a new set of steer tires during my daily inspection.

The next week, Bossman informs me that we are on nights for the next few days:

Bossman: "When on the ranch land, watch your speed. If you hit and kill one of the landowner's $45.000 prize winning steers that he makes $20,000 when breeding, I'll run your ass off and you lose your pay."

I bust out laughing - HARD. This pisses him off.

Bossman: "What the Fu-- you laughing at? You don't think I'm serious? Get your shit and get out."

Me: "Is that what the land owner told you? He breeds his prize winning steer for $20k a pop? And you believe him?"

Bossman: "Yeah."

I was nearly on the ground laughing so hard.

Bossman: "The fu--'s your problem. Fine - go home."

Me: "Sorry, I meant no disrespect. It's just that, I imagine that you're from up north, right? From the city?" I could tell from day one from his fake southern accent, but I kept quiet about it.

Bossman: "Yeah, what of it?"

Me: "Well, I'm a city boy as well, but even I know that a steer is a castrated bull. While it's true that a prize winning steer can be worth tens of thousands of dollars, they can not be bred. Ask anyone here, they'll confirm it."

Trainer: "Yes sir, it's true. A steer is a bull with no balls." My trainer just happened to walk by when he heard me laughing so hard.

Boss turned white. "Don't matter. Watch your speed or you're down the road."

The second week ends and the third begins. About the 3rd day, another truck breaks down, so the Bossman decides to have me give my truck to the other driver and ride with my trainer again. For some reason, Bossman decides he wants this to be my last day, but he can't due to no reason. So, he makes something up, only to have it backfire on him. At the end of the day, he's waiting for us at the yard when we pull in and get parked. I head to the office to get my check for the first two weeks, and he's waiting for me outside.

Bossman: "You done f---ed up today, boy. You almost got someone killed."

Me: "Really. Please, do tell."

Bossman: "I received a call from a man who said that you cut him off and ran him off the road. He gave your truck and trailer numbers and identified you as the driver by the cap that you wear."

Me: I smiled. "Really. About what time did this incident happen?"

Bossman: "Why're you smiling. You nearly killed a man. I'm letting you go right now. You're an unsafe driver."

Me: "No, first you need to answer my question."

Bossman: "What does it matter? I don't have to answer you. You're fired."

Me: "No, you do need to answer. Remember, there were two drivers in that truck today." Just then Trainer walked up. "And FYI, I know that I didn't cut off anyone one today, as I did not drive at all. I can also vouch that Trainer did not cut anyone one off, nor ran anyone off of the road. So, either: 1, the guy misread the numbers of the truck and trailer and identity of the driver; 2, is lying, or 3, you're the one lying because you have been trying to find fault in everything I do and run me off since day one when I refused to sign the waiver for Workman's Comp."

Bossman: "Fu-- you you little fu--."

Trainer: "He's right. I drove all day, and don't recall any incidents or near misses. You know I'd have called as per policy."

Bossman: "Well, alright. I guess you still have your job. But know, I'm keeping a real close eye on you."

Me: "Thank you, and I don't doubt it. My butthole has already been feeling your nose hairs tickling it since day one."

I opened my check and looked at it as Bossman began to walk away fuming.

Me: "Wait a minute. There's a $59 deduction on here for insurance. We don't have benefits, remember?"

Bossman: "That's for the insurance against injury, remember?"

Me: "You mean the one I declined and refused to waive the Worker's Comp for."

Bossman: "Yeah. It's mandatory."

Me: "I see. So it's deducted whether I sign up for it or not."

Bossman: "Yep. Don't like it? Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out."

Me: "That's illegal."

Bossman: "No it ain't. Now get the fu-- off my property."

I decided to end it right there, as there is no point in arguing with a spoiled child. It's best to be the better man and walk off... Yeah, right!

Now for the ProRevenge:

It turns out that the Captain for the TX Dept. of Public Safety (Department of Transportation for you truck drivers, or state trooper for everyone else) of the precinct just happened to live about 4 houses down from the apartments that my fiancee lived. He just so happened to find an anonymous note on his windshield the next morning. The very next morning, there were 5 state troopers with all 15 of the company's trucks pulled over on the side of the highway right in front of the company, being thoroughly inspected (I was parked on the shoulder in my car across the highway watching it all unfold while sipping my coffee). Of the 15 trucks, 11 of them were shut down for safety violations. Thousands of dollars in fines were written and the Boss plus two other drivers were taken to jail for warrants. Boss also had an expired Commercial Driver's License (He was forced to drive since I didn't show up for work that morning).

As you can imagine, Bossman lost his job. I had moved to my fiancee's home town and got a job in the oilfield driving tanker trucks. I heard that Trainer got the Bossman's job. And everyone lived happily ever after. Well, maybe not Bossman, as he also popped positive on a drug test...

(source) story by (/u/SkidmarkSmellybum)

#prorevenge #by /u/SkidmarkSmellybum #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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dismyopinion · 3 years

Text

let’s start with something hot

well i’m matt, i’m 108, i live on earth and i listen to music and watch television. and now i’ll talk about it cause i can and i’m too insecure to make videos in youtube so yah.

this is the way i’m planning to talk about albums: song by song. meaning that i’ll make a little comment about each song and then another one of the album as a whole so buckle up.

golden: WHAT AN INTRO. he didn’t come to play, he really didn’t and he wanted us to know about it right away. now this song is the biggest mystery in the entire record, what’s it about? it works as a love letter to his old x-factor-after-that-wmyb-performance self, advising him to stop being scared and it also works as a gay anthem for the ages…what’s it about? we wilL never find ouT. but it’s a unique intro and really sets the tone for this whole body of work.

watermelon sugar: the worst single, argue with the wall. but it’s the literal sound of summer. if miss rona wouldn’t have come to mess with everyone’s business we would’ve had SUCH A SUMMER SONG. parties, picnics, road trips, funerals, birthdays, this song would’ve been literally everywhere. it feels really fresh and it’s not getting old even though people have tried to overplay it. i’m so angry it won’t reach the potential it had inside.

adore you: the BEST single right behind the worst single, what a treat. his layers singing “ah-ah-ah” in the chorus is so refreshing. now harry can hit all the notes, we know that, but in this song his voice simply sounds so beautiful, no need to have ad-libs or anything, just harry singing. it has been my favorite song multiple times, but harry is such a hypocritical. who wouldn’t let him adore them.

lights up: sometimes nostalgia can make the good seem great. when i first heard this song i thought the record was going to be really close to hs1, it had that old-song touch, but it was also different in a way. IF ONLY WE HAD KNOWN!!! anyway, the song makes you JUMP with the shIINE and it makes your eyes tear up with the do you know who you are? it’s not the best in the album…but it’s not an skip. THE V I D E O THO.

cherry: the second i played this song i was in italy. the SECOND i played it. it has such a romcom feeling to it, the touch of freedom and youth in the production but harry’s fear and love in the vocals make a beautiful song. at first i thought it was another harry fruit song, but it really grew on me. now if there was a piece of me in how HARRY STYLES dresses…girl. don’t like the girl at the end tho, this song is call me by your name, not the freaking kissing booth.

falling: now let me tell you about a telepathic connection. when this album dropped i was on a trip to the end of the world and i was tired as hell. so i fixed me a glass of wine, prepared the tub and played the album for the first time. i stared at the ceiling all through the first five songs, but the literal second i heard the stupid piano note my whole face went INSIDE the water like it was my job. have you heard falling from inside water? no you haven’t, and you should. harry knows that, we are connected, that’s why he also plays fish in the music vid. listen to harry. well this song is heartbreaking, it’s harry’s most vulnerable piece and i’ve said too much already so-

to be so lonely: guys i’m looking for a bad song, i really am. i do not want to look like a harry lover (even though i am), but i can’t lie. the production in this son. THE PRODUCTION IN THAT SONG. harry uses like a billion different instruments and they all work together and you can listen to each one of them perfectly. the phone reference at the beginning is subtle, harry’s vocals are beautiful as usual. the song is about harry refusing to be friends with his ex, he’d rather be alone than a friend with someone he loves. perfect song.

she: you can’t even stop crying from tbsl and you have to become a whore. remember the bath i was in when the album released? yeah i fell asleep in this one. WAY TOO LONG. it’s not relevant at all, can’t think of a thing to say about it.

sunflower vol. 6: now we’re back to excellence. finally. you can tell i’m obsessed with harry’s voice by now, but hIS VOICE IN THE PRE-CHORUS CAN SLAUGHTER ME. this song is so well balanced between the vocals and the production. top 3, he really said don’t lose focus on me, i still got a few tricks stored. it could literally bee a woo-woo-doo-doo-doo song from start to finish and i’d stream it.

canyon moon: guys i had to play this again to remember it. hmm…the second half of this album is the worst part, isn’t it? do not answer that…i’m still listening to it…it’s cute…but nah.

treat people with kindness: harry’s voice. it’s good. stop being mad, this is why we can’t have nice things.

fine line: an album with a opening has a proper ending and we’re all here for it. when the last track begins it gives you time to sit down and close your eyes: you know you’re about to start a TRIP. if you haven’t cried during this song, listening to the hopeful regret and the slow guitar...i don’t trust you. this isn’t a song, it’s a painting, and harry does such a good job with it. someone in the studio should’ve looked at this guy dead in the eyes and said: this is a song worth being six minutes, not sh*. the song really represents the energy of the album as a whole, it’s bittersweet, leaves you wanting for more. AND WHEN IT GROWS. OMG I CANT GUYS I CANT-

SO YEAH

that’s my opinion on harry styles’ GRAMMY NOMINATED album. overall the work is good, probably the best of the 1d boys (PROBABLY…wait until i get on a certain weather), definitely his best and i’m sure he’ll top it. this album guaranteed his place as a superstar and will become a classic, that’s why i wanted it to be my first review. the holy trinity is: adore you, to be so lonely and sunflower vol 6. now, how many stars do i give fine line?

production: 4/5

vocals: 5/5

lyrics: 3/5

singles: 3/5 (too many)

total: 15/20

#harrystyles #fineline #album #review #harry styles #fine line #album review #louis #is #the golden boy #follow me #im cool #sorta #probably unpopular #opinion #yeah #onedirection #one direction

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mysticdragon3md3 · 4 years

Video

youtube

All the Weyrs of Pern Audible Audio Edition by Joshua T. Potts

[Hey, don’t read under the cut. Especially if you worship McCaffrey or this book. I’m a FORMER avid fan.]

I’m so glad the comments on this vid proved that I’m not the only one who thought that maybe the way this voice actress reads probably doesn’t fit this book . Like, I know it’s been many years, but I remember the book specifically saying the AI computer’s voice was lovely an pleasant. Where did this voice actress get the idea to make the computer sound like a 1950′s robot? And so many of the other characters just sounded like outdated movie narration. Way too disassociative, more than immersive.

I thought I’d be ok with listening to a video of a cassette tape audio book, but WOW. It wasn’t just the hiss messing with the audio clarity. I didn’t even know that cassettes inadvertently, simultaneously reads the other side of the tape backwards, while another side plays. It sounds like the voice actress was recording the audio at a home studio, with no sound insulation, while she had house guests visiting, and talking to someone else behind her. O~o;;; I was trying to use this audio book to help me fall asleep last night, but I had to concentrate so hard to understand what was being said. ~.~!

I tried to read this book before, years ago, back when I was trying to be an Anne McCaffrey fangirl. Back then, I used to latch onto authors/artists that I liked 2 or 3 titles from, and decided that they must be my favorite author, all their work should be expected to fit my tastes, and I should love everything they make: McCaffrey, CLAMP, Rumiko Takahashi, Sanami Matoh, Miki Takeuchi, Chika Shiomi, Sakura Gokurakuin, etc. Before I realized how ridiculous it was to not recognize that enjoying an author merely raised the probability that I might like their other work, and all their new titles should be worth checking out, but didn’t mean I was OBLIGATED to love everything they made---Before all that, I was under the delusion that I MUST love everything from McCaffrey. Even though I had only read the HarperHall Pern books, I was obsessed with dragons at the time, and I knew I should get around to reading some Dragonriders of Pern books. I couldn’t remember if I just didn’t have the time, or if I was reluctant to stop re-reading my comfort books, or if the library just didn’t have the Lessa books available.

But a relative bought “Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern” for one of my school book reports (which allowed individual book choices), and that book made me realize that maybe there was another reason I wasn’t reading more Dragonriders of Pern. I think...I think I don’t like McCaffrey’s writing style. There were so many more novels at the library whose words flowed more easily and whose stories kept me enthralled. But so many parts of Moreta felt like a crawl. I remember the story shift perspective to a doctor making notes on the disease which he had caught...and it just felt like a diversion from the more pertinent parts of the story.

And I felt that same disinterest and maybe even boredom again, listening to this audio book of All the Weyrs of Pern. Before I gave up listening to this audio book, there was an entire scene of characters just cleaning a room. And this was after 2 previous scenes of mostly exposition. I understood there was some characterization going on in all those scenes, but so much of it just felt like the same filler I or other fanfic writers just rattle off to meet a self-imposed deadline, word count, or writing practice quota. It wasn’t about anything. That same characterization could have been doubled up into scenes which also produced plot progression! Instead, scenes like cleaning that meeting room, just felt like waiting for the main plot to start moving again. An indeed, the characters cleaning that room were literally waiting for other characters to wake up, to arrive, for the AI computer to recharge, etc.! I thought fictional stories were supposed to “cut out all the boring parts of life”! It felt like filler episodes in an anime or meandering fanfic scenes, where the characters are just hanging out. And maybe an inherently entertaining ensemble like One Piece can get away with that and even make filler episodes good. And maybe before reading a fanfic just watching the characters hang out is all we want to do, since the canon series already had them constantly dealing with “world-ending conflicts”. But I expected such a long book, such an inscrutable quality in an audio book---I expected media requiring so much effort to consume, to have a better pay off. Now I’m glad I didn’t put myself through reading these enormous books or tiring my fingers with their heavy hardcovers. (I didn’t have much format choice from my local libraries.)

But I wonder if All the Weyrs of Pern was mean to be be like a fanfic of the Pern books? I mean, all these protagonists from all the other Pern books, were suddenly meeting together. Cross-overs are fanfic bread and butter! Was I supposed to go into this book with a mentality already primed with attachment to these characters through all their individual stories? Maybe if I was, then maybe I would have enjoyed just seeing them talking together, doing nothing, just hanging out. Maybe that was the purpose of this book, and I wasn’t meant to read it with my “new book” expectations. Maybe I can’t blame McCaffery for doing an “Avengers Endgame”, while I “didn’t watch the rest of the MCU beforehand”.

Still, that doesn’t explain why Moreta also felt so meandering and distracted with unimportant or at least uninteresting asides. If anything, that’s the proof that I had to get over my “obligation to love all McCaffrey books” and admit that I just liked her Harper Hall books. Maybe it spoke to me at the time. Maybe what it said, regardless of how it said it, strongly resonated with what I needed to relate to at that age. But I couldn’t keep fooling myself when I was having such a better time with Mercedes Lackey and other novels. So regardless of how much I loved dragons and scifi mixed with fantasy elements, I had to admit that maybe I didn’t love McCaffrey’s writing as much as I thought I did. And when someone reads as slowly as me, I don’t have to time to keep trying to force compatibility with a writing style that doesn’t intuitively click with my brain.

So maybe I shouldn’t bother finishing this audio book? That might be a good idea. I have a lot of science and art podcasts to listen to anyway.

And I have this tendency to absorb any writing style I’ve been exposed to. Whether it’s Joe Madureira’s writing in 1990′s X-men, Anthony Minghella’s screenwriting in Jim Henson’s The Storyteller, or fanfics I read, I have to be careful what I expose myself to, because I WILL find myself writing/talking just like that, without realizing. So wouldn’t it be bad to be writing all meandering, like my brain’s perception of McCaffrey, even much more than I normally do, and have been trying to fix---Just like this post I’ve written just now, after listening to All the Weyrs of Pern this morning!

#rambling #reactions #audio book #all the weyrs of pern #dragonriders of pern #ann mcCaffrey #novels #nostalgia #old otaku #writing style #don't worship creators #dragons #please ignore my idiocy #processing thoughts #dontworshipcreators

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silver-greedling · 5 years

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Bad Timing

Robert Manion x Reader (wowie i love starkid now, ive watched, like, FIVE musicals in a week. small question, anyone know where i can find, like, vids or stuff of them just chilling? i wanna get a better feel for their personalities, tendencies, and relationships with one another before i write a whole lot about them. any help is needed and appreciated! sorry if this one is short!!! also, should i start putting a little “read more” thing after a paragraph or two? im fine with or without, so tell me what you guys would prefer)

My roommate, best friend, and crush, Robert Manion, was leaving for the airport in about six hours. I was busy preparing a hearty meal that would keep him filled up on the flight, so he wouldn’t go hungry or have to buy airplane food.

He was packing bags and scouring the apartment for anything else he may need on the trip. He was so messy; His clothes could be found scattered in almost every room, save the (tiny) kitchen and (tinier) living room. Even then, I wouldn’t be shocked if I found a long-lost shirt of his had somehow ended up under the couch or in a cabinet in the kitchen.

At last, the pan of eggs was done! All that was left was a few more pieces of bacon, which were done not long after. Multitasking two foods on the same stove that needed to be checked often was proving difficult, but I managed.

“Breakfast!” I half-yelled, knowing Robert was just a room over. I placed both pans, very carefully, on the small coffee table in the living room, where I had already set up two plates and forks. I returned to the kitchen for two glasses of milk, walking back to the living room to find Robert (somewhat) patiently awaiting my return.

I placed a glass in front of him, then put mine by my own plate, before plopping next to him on the floor. “Shall we?”

He nodded eagerly. If there was anything I knew about him, it was that he seemed to find my cooking amazing. One way or another, he found himself asking me to make every meal I could. When I pushed a joke of “women’s work”, he got embarrassed and told me the truth, that he liked my food. Since then, I’d been making every meal I could manage to, just to see him smile when I said our food would be homemade.

The smile on his face, as he took in a few bites of food, made the hard work of handling two hot pans over the stove completely worth it. I felt myself smile as I dug into my own plate of food. I had to admit, knowing he enjoyed it so much made me as happy as he was to eat it.

“Amazing, as always,” he said after, very quickly, finishing up his plate. He took a drink from his milk, then sighed. “I won’t have another one of these meals for over four months.”

“Awe, don’t make me sad,” I said over the rim of my own cup. “I’d make one for you to take, but airport security, man.”

He laughed. “Well, if I call asking for how you make your food, don’t be surprised. I will miss it.” He sighed again.

I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I stood, taking our plates and the pans back to the kitchen and setting them in the sink. Washing dishes could come later. My time with Robert was at five hours, not including the twenty minute drive to the airport.

“Let’s play some games, or watch a movie,” I suggested, sitting down on the couch. “We still have time to kill before you leave.”

Robert stood. “Yeah, pick out a movie. I’m going to make sure I have everything packed that I need.”

He padded off toward his room, and, as I picked out a movie (Grown Ups), I thought about my history with Robert.

I had been working with Team Starkid for almost five months when Robert came in. We hit it off almost instantly. When I realized he had been living in a hotel room for almost a week, I offered to clear out a room that was, at the time, an office and storage space. He tried to decline, but I persuaded him. Now, he’s been staying here almost seven years, albeit traveling back and forth between here and Australia.

I wasn’t able to reminisce any longer, because Robert was coming back into the room, one suitcase, looking a touch overpacked, in hand. He placed it beside the couch, then plopped next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. Leaning against him, I picked up the remote and turned on the TV. The movie had already been put in what served as our DVD player (but was really my PS3). Robert tilted his head at the title screen.

“I haven’t seen this one,” he noted. “What is it?”

“Just watch,” I replied with a grin on my face.

His arm pulled me a touch closer, and I leaned against him almost completely as the movie began.

By the end of it, we were both almost in tears from laughter. Just under two hours of our time had gone by, leaving us at about three. “Wanna watch the second one?” I offered.

“Can we handle a second one?” he asked jokingly, but agreed.

When that was done, we were at about an hour and a half, but my eyes were getting a little droopy. Although it was around midday, I was extremely tired from staying up through the night making sure Robert’s stuff, or, at the least, the stuff I thought he needed, was in his room.

Before I knew it, I was being shaken awake. Five minutes until we had to leave.

I sat up from where I had fallen asleep on his shoulder, turning my head away to yawn loudly. “Sorry,” I muttered tiredly.

He shook his head. “It’s fine,” he assured me. “We just have to leave soon.”

With another yawn, I stood and stretched my arms, before turning to him. “I’ll get shoes, then I’ll be good to go.”

I padded over to the doorway, where we kept our shoes lined up. Robert offered my sleepy self an arm to lean on while I slipped into my shoes, which I was grateful for. When sleepy, I tended o have bad balance. He knew this, probably from hearing me, a million times, trip in the middle of the night, on my way to the bathroom or kitchen.

“I’ll drive us there so you can wake up a little bit,” he said, and I agreed. We clambered into my car, a crappy Civic that probably needed to be checked soon. I sat myself in the passenger side while Robert got in the driver’s side and started the car. In half a minute, we were buckled in and on the road.

The drive was quiet, mostly somber. It usually felt that way when he was leaving. I always knew that, for however long he was away, my life would change. I would make meals for one. I would do laundry half as much. I would watch movies and play games alone.

The airport parking lot came way too soon. We had arrive ten minutes early. Robert noticed this, I guess, as he stayed in the car a little while.

“Hey, Robert,” I spoke, not entirely sure of what I was doing. “Can you stay a minute longer?”

“I’ve got time,” he said, removing his seatbelt and turning to me. “What’s up?”

“Well...” I fiddled with my fingers, keeping my eyes on them. “I know that this is really bad timing, but...I don’t know, I’ve liked you for a really long time, now, and I just got the courage to say it. I know I should’ve probably said it sooner, but I-”

His hand reached over to grab mine, and I met his gaze. He grabbed both of my hands in his.

“Do you mean that?” he asked me, seriousness etched into his features. I nodded, and a smile broke across his face. “You should’ve said it sooner!”

His hands moved forward to grab my shoulders, and, before I knew it, he was moving closer. He met my eyes before getting too far. When I nodded, he put a hand on my cheek and kissed me.

It felt like flying. When I put my hands on his shoulders, he put his on my waist, trying to pull me closer, although the console between the seats sort of got in the way.

He released after a long time, and I struggled to find air. His hand was still on my face, the thumb gently caressing my cheek.

“I...” He started to talk, but trailed off. “Damn it. I have to go.”

I nodded. “I know. I wish you didn’t.”

“Right now, I do, too.”

I looked up, trying to give him a smile. “If you don’t find any pretty girls in Australia, I’ll be waiting for you when you come back.”

A wide grin took over his face. “I will not find a girl like you in Australia. I will come back to you, and I’m going to ask you out the minute I see you again.”

“I’ll say yes.”

His smile got even bigger as he kissed me again. Slowly, reluctantly, he got out of the car, retrieving his bag from the trunk. I exited, as well, catching him in a hug when he came my way.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised me. With one more kiss, he was walking into the airport, glancing back to me every few steps. When he got inside, I sighed and walked to the driver’s side, sitting in the seat. He’d left the keys in the ignition, thank God. I remembered, once, he had taken the keys with him, earning him an earful over the phone as I hailed a cab and prayed someone wouldn’t steal my shit car from the airport parking lot.

The whole drive home, I thought about him, and everything he said to me. I couldn’t wait for four months to pass.

#robert manion #robert manion x reader #starkid #starkid x reader #team starkid #fanfic #fanfiction

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kalluun-patangaroa · 5 years

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Suede at INmusic festival, Zagreb, Croatia, 25 June 2019

It's been 3 weeks since that fantastic night now and I've been back home from Croatia and Slovenia for a week (and I’m busy again...), but - as I promised - I'll be trying to recreate some of the atmosphere and emotions of that HOT night... The night was double special for me, 'cause right before Suede, on the same stage, as if opening for them and setting the mood :), performed iconic Garbage. I was overjoyed to have my favourite female and male singers, Shirley and Brett, share the same stage on the same night! My cousin who I was with has a rare and very useful ability: she can move forward through the crowd gracefully and skillfully enough so as not to disturb people. Whenever people standing in front of her make any moves, back, forth or to the side, she always finds a tiny gap opening for her, squeezes into it and gets in front of them. Nobody ever complains as she hardly touches or pushes anybody doing this. And then she repeats this move again and again, progressing slowly but surely to the front. So my job was just to follow her... When Garbage started we were right at the back of the crowd, and midway through the set we were here - just a metre or so away from the front barrier :))

That was, in fact, a tactic move, too - one thing was to get as close as possible to the stage to see Garbage well, the other - more important - to be strategically positioned to leap to the barrier the moment Garbage has finished and any 2 people from the barrier move away. Which we luckily managed to do! And as it turned out, it was absolutely the only possible way to be able to get onto the barrier for Suede, also because a lot of people who were on the barrier for Garbage, stayed there also for Suede, even if that meant having to hang on the barrier for the entire hour between the 2 gigs. It wasn't really that bad as we could watch Suede's technicians installing Suede's equipment on the stage. And we even had a bonus of seeing Simon some half an hour before the gig started, as he came to the stage to check something with his cute, glitter-pink (!!) drums. We cheered and clapped our hands when we saw him, so he waved back to us, which was lovely. I actually wanted to shout 'Simon' to him, but was too shy to do that - stupid me...

And then, at 11:15 p.m., the lights went out and we could hear the first sounds of As One. Being on the barrier, just a couple of metres away from the stage, even in total darkness we could see our boys emerge one by one, and it was exciting to see Neil count to five for Richard, to let him know when to start. Since we were almost in front of Richard (slightly more centred), we could watch his every move closely. And I did have eye contact with him a couple of times throughout the gig, which was thrilling! :) Shortly afterwards Brett joined them and that was the moment the gig really started. Following As One was Outsiders and at that point we still had right in front of us pro photographers taking photos for the press...

And some of them were still there during We Are The Pigs (on the left in the pic)...

...but by the time of So Young they were all gone!

Next in that string of classics were Metal Mickey, Flashboy and 2 of Us. Brett was being hyperactive all the time, leaping onto the monitors and then off them, throwing himself onto his knees, singing lying or on all fours, and doing his mic tricks - of course! While Brett was swinging his mic, it was funny to watch Richard subconsciously lean a bit to avoid being hit by it, even if he was well out of range of that swinging mic right then :)

And then it was time for Life Is Golden, and Brett finally decided to use the stairs leading down from the stage to the barrier...

When he got down he first turned to his right and went to The Insatiable Ones group who were on the barrier in front of Neil (which I only realized when Brett addressed them from the stage - I couldn't see them from 'our' part of the barrier). After he stayed with them for a while he left them and, all the time singing, started walking along the barrier, touching with his right hand all the hands that the fans were stretching towards him, and doing this he reached the other side of the barrier, passing us by on the way - so yes, that was the first time we had any physical contact with him! :) But that was just a prelude to what was about to happen next... He turned back at the end of the barrier and returned to us!! He jumped onto the metal step that was on the other side of the barrier right in front of us, and, towering over us, was literally next to us then. He stayed the total of 50 seconds with us, 2:42-3.32 on the video below (credits to Andre D. Keaton) . And yes, Life WAS Golden for me then... <333 That left hand (with a silver watch on the wrist) that you can see at the bottom of the picture starting from 2:42, first placed on Brett's waist, and then, having been overlapped by someone else's hand, moving onto his - ahem - bum, is MINE. And mine and my cousin's faces appear a couple of times between 3:15-3:30. too.

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As I said, Brett was whole 50 seconds with us, but it actually felt shorter, like 30 sec perhaps - oh well, time flies when you're holding Brett in your arms! :)) And when he jumped off that step I suddenly felt the cord of his mic being wrapped around the back of my neck and realized I had to get rid of it right away or I'd get strangled, lol. That would be quite some death to get accidentally strangled by Brett Anderson during a concert, but since Life Is Golden, I decided to disentangle myself, which can be seen in another vid below (credits to Dragan Bralić). Brett is with us between 1:53-2:43 here, and I remove the cord from my neck in that last second, 2:43. But watch the vid till the end to see what happened next...

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Yes, next song was The Drowners, and what Brett did then was just to go round the end of the barrier and get mixed into the crowd!! Just imagine how delighted all those people must have been - well, you can see their faces :) So he was among the fans, all the time singing, for as long as 1:45! (4:00-5:45 on the vid). But what did he do once he got back to the 'correct' side of the barrier?... He returned to US once more, jumped onto that step right in front of us again and stayed with us for another half a minute!! <333 (5:55-6:25 on the vid). OMG, I was half conscious after all that... ;))

While Brett was away in the crowd, Mat took advantage of the empty stage and came to the front, which I loved!

They continued with It Starts And Ends..., Lazy, Sabotage, Can't Get Enough, Trash and Animal Nitrate, and it was just ecstatic... :) Then came the time for Brett's solo acoustic, and partly even acapella, version of The Wild Ones.

Predictably, they finished the main set with The Beautiful Ones. Brett did get down to the barrier twice more for a while, during Lazy and The Beautiful Ones, but on those occasions he approached only the section right in the middle - oh well, you can't have everything, I guess... ;) And after a brief pause they returned for the encore. First, just Brett, Neil and Richard, to play a lovely acoustic version of She's In Fashion, with Neil and Richard on acoustic guitars. Fashion had turned 20 only 4 days earlier, and, to celebrate this, I posted a great acoustic rendition of it on tumblr that day, from a radio session in Amsterdam in 1999. Posting it, little did I know that 4 days later I'd hear LIVE another beautiful, summery, acoustic version of it...

The very last song they played was New Generation, electric and with the whole band again. And that was it, 90 minutes passed like seconds... The moment they disappeared I started counting the time till the day I'll see them again: August the 4th, at OFF Festival in Katowice, Poland - less than 3 weeks away from now... And I'm absolutely determined to be on the barrier then, too!!

So here's the setlist from Zagreb, but they didn't perform The Invisibles after all:

And here's the recording of the whole set - credits to Mo Gruesomm whom I am infinitely grateful to for recording this. Please don't be put off by not the best quality of the picture, especially at the beginning. It gets better later on, and the whole recording does convey the excitement and emotions of that amazing night, and is definitely worth watching from start to finish.

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Note: All the photos are mine, of course, which is pretty obvious taking their hopeless technical quality... :( It was partly my crappy Samsung phone, but also, I was just more into enjoying myself than bothering about taking photos. Sorry, but I could hardly think of it while holding Brett or watching him singing, jumping and wallowing onstage mere metres away from me... :))

@sauveandelegant, @shabbydoll I’m tagging you ‘cause I know you’ll be interested to read this... :)

#suede #inmusic festival #inmusic #zagreb #croatia #my story

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junghelioseok · 5 years

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Not sure if ur taking req.This came to me as I read catharsis, I loved their friendship.Ur hired as a choreographer for the group, & ur in Korea on a work visa.JK just gets you like no one else does. You are bff, then it turns romantic.U keep ur relationship secret, & when U travel with the group he always sneaks to ur hotel room. He wants to take the relationship public, but u know the company will fire you, & you need your work visa to stay in Korea (to stay with JK). happy ending please. 😊

so i don’t take requests, sorry! however i have also been thinking about this idea nonstop since i got it so! i’m gonna not ignore it for once and lay out exactly what i would do if i did write it (which i refuse to actually do bc more jk ideas is the absolute last thing i need, lolol).

that being said, if any of my writer friends want to take this on, please do so!!! and tag me in the finished fic bc i would read the hell out of this shit. i fucking love this idea and i need it to come to fruition one way or another. (but like, obviously you should take it in whatever direction you see fit. please don’t feel the need to follow my outline, lmao.)

anyway, without further ado, here is my abbreviated version of this, ft. the frankly absurd, stream-of-consciousness way i plan every fic i write, ahaha.

let’s get it!!!

you weren’t ready

you weren’t ready when the email from bighit came, asking for your help choreographing the dances for love yourself: answer

(you thought it was a joke, tbh)

you weren’t ready to get a korean work visa on such short notice

and you definitely weren’t ready to actually live and work in a different country

two years of college-level korean and a month’s worth of nightly cram classes couldn’t have prepared you for life in seoul

and no amount of researching bts - whether that was binging music videos or going over every dance practice vid or repeatedly listening to the albums - could have prepared you for your first meeting with the boys

tbh you kinda thought they’d be jerks, being so wildly popular and whatnot

but you couldn’t have been more wrong

one month into your time at bighit, and you finally understand the undying adoration army has for the boys

they’re just seven big soft nerds in stupidly handsome bodies

you’ve been subjected to hundreds of dad jokes, courtesy of seokjin, and plenty of clingy hugs from jimin

you’ve grown to love hobi’s screaming laughter and yoongi’s quiet grumpiness

but no matter how well you get along with all of the boys, nothing compares to your budding friendship with jeon jungkook

admittedly it’d taken a while for him to get comfortable enough to speak to you directly, especially when namjoon isn’t around to act as a translator

and likewise, it took a while for you to become accustomed to speaking korean every day

but once you both get past the language barrier, it’s like you’ve known each other your entire lives

you bond over your mutual love of dancing, of music and flow and rhythm

and watching him dance is a dream

every move is the perfect mix of grace and power, and he’s a joy to teach choreo to

hardworking and perseverant and more than a little bit of a perfectionist

but so are you, and that just means that you spend plenty of late nights in the studio together

working through the bits of choreography that just aren’t clicking yet

prepping for the upcoming ly tour

helping him with the choreography for euphoria

you were shocked when he approached you about his solo stage instead of sungdeuk, but you can’t say you weren’t pleased that he trusts you

and the first time you heard him open his mouth and sing euphoria in person, you were blown away

after that, you spend even more time together in the studio, long after the other boys and sungdeuk have left

late night after late night, dancing and laughing and ordering takeout at 1am when you’re both starving and need a break

one night you’re both hanging out in golden closet, snacking on ice cream and fried food you know you’ll regret later, listening to the setlist and talking big picture stuff for the ly tour

and jungkook suddenly pauses the music and pulls up a new, different audio file

“um, i’ve been working on something and i was wondering if you wanted to listen to it?”

surprise, it’s his mixtape

it’s a work in progress - just a short collection of songs and a few random snippets that he admits he’s been working on for almost a year now

but every single one is so heart-wrenchingly lovely and emotional

your eyes may or may not well up a little during the last song - a soft, sentimental ballad that has you longing for something you didn’t know was missing in your life

“jungkook… this is beautiful”

“… i wrote it for you”

“…”

what are you gonna do, not kiss him?

lmao unlikely!

so you kiss him. a lot.

and then you do a lot more than that

you end up straddling him in his chair, your knees on either side of his thighs as his hands curl around your waist and find their way under the hem of your shirt

it’s sweaty and hurried and he tastes like the strawberry ice cream that he was just eating but it’s perfect nonetheless

afterward you are both in a happy haze, your head leaning on his shoulder as he strokes your back fondly

but then reality comes crashing back down

“jungkook, oh my god, we can’t do this!”

“but noona”

“but nothing! i’m only here temporarily, and if word gets out that we’re dating i’ll be fired!”

it’s so hard to tear your gaze from those pretty doe eyes when they’re staring up at you so beseechingly, but somehow you find the strength to wrench away from him and out of golden closet

you can still hear him calling for you as you run away, but you don’t turn back and he doesn’t chase you

needless to say, things are a little awkward from that point forward

you still see him every day at rehearsals

but you stop having one-on-one sessions with him late at night and tell yourself that it’s for the best

the other boys aren’t dumb; they notice that something is amiss straight away

but they don’t press too hard and you’re grateful for that

just days later, the international part of the ly tour starts and you are all jetting off to north america

by that point, it’s been almost a week and a half since you’ve spoken more than two sentences to jungkook

and you have no intention of changing that anytime soon

you can feel his eyes boring into you on the plane and in the car on the way to the hotel

but you escape to your hotel room and don’t see him again until dress rehearsal later that night

they’re running through the setlist, and you can’t help but admire how he looks in casual clothes

no one else could pull off a matching gray puma tracksuit, tbh

but he can, and he’s got the sleeves of his gray sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows to expose the rolex on his wrist

and his sweatpants are juuuust tight enough to show off the definition of his thighs

but! you’re a professional, and you can’t be looking at him with anything more than a critical eye so that’s what you do

even when he keeps glancing your way during euphoria

and stares right into your eyes as he nails the high note

afterward, you go onstage to give the boys your notes

you have a lot to say to hobi about just dance, and you can just feel jungkook’s hot gaze lingering on you the entire time

and then…

(thanks a lot for this shit, @puellaigmotum istg i have fucking nightmares about this bit of dialogue and it’s 10000% your fault)

… he corners you backstage

“noona, why are you paying so much attention to hobi-hyung… when i’m right here and ready to be on my knees for you”

he’s so close you can’t even fucking breathe by this point, his lips right at your ear and ruffling your hair with every word he speaks

when he begins kissing a trail along your jawline you finally regain control of your lungs

and all you can manage is a shaky “jungkook, not here”

and you press the second copy of your hotel key into his hand

he comes over that night, of course

(and just like he promised, he does end up on his knees)

(head nestled between your thighs, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder to keep you spread open for him)

but a n y w a y

when you wake up in the morning, jarred awake by your alarm at far too early an hour, he is curled around you with one arm draped over your waist

he’s bleary and a little dazed and has the cutest bedhead you’ve ever seen

but when he sees you still in bed with him, his entire face splits into the brightest bunny smile

he pulls you in for a kiss and you could happily spend the rest of your life tucked away under the blankets there with him

but he’s got a concert to get ready for and both of you know it

the last rehearsal before the concert goes off without a hitch, and if anyone notices how you and jungkook are on good terms again, no one says anything about it

the concert is incredible. the boys smash it.

you are beaming when jungkook comes off the stage after his solo, ready with a bottle of water and a towel and plenty of congratulatory words

he beams right back, scooping you off your feet and twirling you in a full circle before putting you back down again

(his stylists are a little dismayed by the rumpled state of his clothes, but they can’t say much when namjoon destroys everyone’s outfits daily. they’re used to it.)

besides, all the staff can see just how happy he is around you

afterward, you all go out for a celebratory dinner, toasting to a successful tour kickoff

jungkook sits beside you and cracks inane jokes the entire time, and you spend the entire evening laughing your ass off with him

naturally, he finds his way back to your hotel room that night

and pretty much every night after, from la to hamilton to london

you’re in berlin when he first broaches the topic of taking your relationship public

“jungkook, we can’t! i’ll be fired!”

“no you won’t”

“how can you be so sure?”

“i’m negotiating my contract renewal right now, and i’m making sure that nothing prohibits me from dating. i want to be with you, noona.”

“but jungkook…”

“don’t you want to be with me?”

“yes, of course i do-”

“then that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”

he kisses you before you can speak again, and all your protests and arguments fly out of your head the moment his lips meet yours

the very next morning you agree to gradually make your relationship public, first to the other boys and then bang pd and the rest of the bighit staff

(most of them already knew though)

everyone’s happy for you, even the company higher-ups, because it’s so easy to see how happy jungkook is these days

(and like, lowkey, sungdeuk has already decided to spoil rotten any kids you may have in the future)

but no one is happier than you and jungkook

as soon as the tour ends, you extend your visa so that you can stay in korea longer with him

jungkook is yours and you are his, and life is good ♡

#jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #anonymous #ask lia #answered

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