#pretty sure the video I saw today is completely staged

[vashti-lives]

I sometimes see pranks that are really counting on people’s instinct when startled being flight, or at least freeze, and like you motherfuckers are gonna get punched in the face eventually.

#pretty sure the video I saw today is completely staged #but if some enterprising kid wanted to recreate it I think they’d be in trouble #people on tumblr will add fawn to the fight/flight/freeze behavior list #that’s a completely different thing that’s a learned behavior towards abuse #not shit you do when a bear shows up or whatever

[bree-cheesy]

Forever and Always

Jschlatt x Ped Nurse fem!reader

I hope you guys like this! I'm actually kind of proud of it and really hope you guys are proud of it too!

Warnings: child cancer patient death, this is def angsty, hospitals?, some kissing at the end (no smut, sorry).

Words: 1,511

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Being the roommate of a very popular youtuber and streamer- when you’re not famous yourself at all- is a lot of pressure. You don’t like to be in his streams or videos, so whenever he’s filming or streaming, you have to lock yourself in your room till he’s done. You two had been friends and roommates since he moved to Austin. You both moved around a lot, but you didn’t really mind it because you weren’t alone doing it. Jay kind of felt like your rock in ways. Something that always pretty much stayed the same. Aside from the occasional haircut or different hoodie.

Yes, you had a little crush on him. Couldn’t really help it because he always had cute nicknames for you, always super touchy. Not to mention he was the only guy who actually ever listened to you.

Your job was pretty demanding. You were a pediatric nurse. Your whole job revolved around kids. Being around kids that much, you obviously start to feel like an older sister to them. Doing everything in your power to make sure they’re comfortable and not scared. Especially for the ones in critical care, or the ones with life risking illnesses. But, getting attached is dangerous. When the ones who are on end of life care eventually reach the end of their life, you’re just broken for days. Blaming yourself for not doing anything more for them, even though you know you did everything in your power for them. They never passed away sad, always surrounded by loved ones and the team helping them.

Today was different, though. You had a patient. A 7 year old girl with stage 4 lung cancer. She was an orphan. No family and was thrown into the hospital by her foster family and just left behind. She had been under the hospital’s care for 5 months and you formed a strong bond with her. She felt like a little sister to you. She was doing so good. She was getting better. Then, close to the end of your shift, her heart monitor went flat while a doctor was in there talking to her. It was like your whole world stopped. The cancer grew so much in what felt overnight, blocking her lungs, not letting any oxygen get in. There was no saving her. She was really gone.

When you finally got to your car after staying 2 hours overshift, helping everyone with the little girl, you completely broke down. You stayed pretty good at being neutral in the hospital, but it was just too much. How hadn’t any of you seen her cancer growing? I failed. I failed her. You almost couldn’t drive home, stopping a few times just to try and collect yourself. Pulling up to the house, you saw a car parked in front of the house. Shit. You totally forgot. Jay got home from being away in Japan today. You were so excited all day because you missed him so bad. Now look at you. A total mess. He had a super long day of travel and now he’s gonna have to deal with you being a blubbering snotty mess.

Pressing your forehead against the steering wheel, you sighed, trying to gather your emotions. When you looked up you saw him. Standing on the porch, holding the black and orange cats, smiling like a dork in that stupid Seaworld hoodie and basketball shorts. That would usually be enough to brighten your mood and make you laugh, but tonight it just made it all worse. You let out a sob and pressed your hands against your face, leaning your head back against the headrest. Jay frowned and quickly let the cats back inside, rushing over to your car and opening the door.

His arms instantly wrapped around you, his body acting like a huge cocoon of warmth and comfort for you. Sobbing into his chest- dirtying his hoodie with your tears- he rubbed your back and held you close, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “What’s going on, hun?” His voice was soft and concerned in your ear, making you break down even harder. He gently picked you up bridal style and carried you inside the house, sitting down with you in his lap on the couch. “Gotta talk to me, sweets. Can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“She's gone.” Your voice was scratchy and quiet. Schlatt’s heart broke seeing you like this. He didn’t know how to help you. His baby was sad, the little voice in his head whispered. Who was she? He was trying to remember if you mention anyone in recent history being close to death.

“Who’s gone?” He kept his voice gentle and rocked you in his lap a little.

“Remember the little girl who had cancer? The orphan?” He nodded- his heart sinking- and you sniffled, wiping the tears away. “H-Her cancer grew… blocked the oxygen from getting to her lungs.” You let out another heart wrenching sob and he held you closer, gently kissing your forehead. “I couldn’t help her, Jay…. I didn’t even see her cancer was growing! I failed her… I wasn’t with her when she died. I promised her I would be there with her!”

He shook his head and forced your chin up to look him in the eyes. “Babe, you did everything you could to help her. You had no control over what happened. She was sick, baby…. You did more for that little girl than anyone probably ever had before in her life.”

Knowing he was right, you nodded and leaned the side of your head against his chest, just trying to focus on his steady heartbeat in your ear. When you eventually stopped crying, you managed to get up to take a shower and get in pajamas. Luckily you had the next two days off. You probably would’ve called out anyway if you didn’t have them off. When you got out of the shower, you saw stuff laid out on your bed. A smile formed on your face. They were little gifts Jay got for you while he was away. He always did that for you when he went on a trip, but this time it just felt so much more substantial. After looking at what they were, you heard him in the kitchen.

A frown formed on your face when your mind started racing. He was always doing things for you. Always comforting you on bad days, always buying you things you’ve shown interest in, face timing you on your breaks at work just to try and make you laugh because he knows how rough your job is. He was always just there. Your heart started racing. This wasn’t just a crush, this was love. You were in love with him.

Gaining all the courage you could possibly muster at that moment, you rushed out of your room and to where he was in the kitchen. He was making food for the both of you. He looked up at you and smiled. “Good shower? Help a little bit? I’m making this chicken thing Ted told me to try-” Before he could say anything else, you grabbed his face and kissed him. His hands took a second to land on your hips, but when they did, he pulled you close and kissed you back, letting out a soft grunt. Fuck. It was so much better than you ever imagined. His lips were so soft and tasted like cherry chapstick, his facial hair lightly scratched at your cheeks in the best way possible, his hands roamed the length of your back, keeping you pressed up close against him.

When you finally pulled away, his eyes were wide with shock, lips parted and tongue nervously running across his bottom lip. “I love you.” The words came out before you could stop them, and you saw a deep red spread across his cheeks and nose, a smile forming on his lips. “Damnit Jonathan, say something!” Your voice came out needier than you wanted it to, but it got the message across because his lips landed on yours again, sucking out the last bit of anxiety left in your body.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you moaned softly into his mouth. He pulled away after a few seconds and pressed his forehead against yours, lightly rubbing his nose against yours, smiling wide. You giggled and he started peppering your face with soft kisses, making you blush a bright scarlett. “God, I love you too, toots.” His voice was laced with amusement and just pure adoration. He couldn’t even believe what was happening. You in his arms, your lips on his. It was everything he imagined and more.

He vowed to you that he’d treat you like the princess you are, promising to never cause you pain or heartache. Because why would he do anything less. You were his girl now. He wasn’t just gonna let it go. He was forever and always yours, and you were his.

-- Bree <3

————————-

Someone give me ideas of what to write with him or Ted 😭 I don’t have anymore ideas

#jschlatt x reader #friends to lovers #schlatt fluff #schlatt #jschlatt #schlatt x reader #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt x you #light angst #angst with a happy ending

[brotherdusk]

it's time again for my favourite genre of post: tumblr user bee brotherdusk theorises wildly during the Foundation midseason!

on the menu this time is Poly and Constant's Imperial Vacation From Hell, or "oh god, I just wanted to make sure one of my favourite guys was going to be okay, but somehow I ended up sending over two dozen increasingly frantic messages to the discord while everyone else was asleep, pepe silvia-style"

(today I learned that grandpa joe shows up when you type "pepe silvia" into the gif search. deserved)

I'm gonna stick this under a readmore as it gets pretty long and image heavy, and potentially contains big spoilers for upcoming episodes, and I know some people want to watch the show completely unspoiled. all theories are based on official promotional videos already released by apple. no leaks or insider book knowledge here!

so I sort of stumbled into this theory in three stages, and I'm going to stick to that template as I talk through my analysis here, starting with:

Part 1 - I'm Genre Aware Now And Everything Hurts

let's be real, nobody saw Hari's (apparent) death coming in the last episode. death is far less of a concern in this show than in others, as the narrative all but guarantees the long-term survival of its core characters. Hari (apparently) dying so quickly after having his body restored was a massive shock, and jolted us out of the complacency that the show had lulled us into.

when the title and description of next week's episode dropped, fan concern quickly turned to Poly, who @gaal-dornick and @aquitainequeen noted has started to exhibit the classic symptoms of Tragic Mentor Figure Disease:

also, there's, y'know, The Guillotine Situation as shown in Trailer 1:

Poly's death seemed so likely that I was beginning to dread the coming episodes, but something was nagging at me; I had a vague memory of seeing a trailer where he was on Terminus and in a situation that we haven't yet seen him in. maybe he does survive his brush with Brother Day, then? I started rewatching all of the trailers, teasers, and character spotlight videos that Apple released in the run-up to season two, and came across something way wilder than I'd expected:

Part 2 - Star Bridge 2: Council Boogaloo

I found another camera shot of Poly and Constant's apparent execution in the Brother Dawn character spotlight video - note the pillars in front of the crowd, the flags in the back, and Dawn, Sareth, Demerzel, Dusk, and Rue standing on the platform behind Day and the prisoners.

note also the onlookers in the maroon robes, who are also visible in the guillotine closeup I posted above...

...hey, it's the Galactic Council as seen in 2.06, with their GILF-y leader at the front in both scenes!

remember how terrified Cleon XII was of their judgement in the season one finale? we still don't know what their exact deal is, but they're clearly big cheeses politically if XII of all people is afraid of them:

here's yet another angle of the execution from Trailer 2 - same setup, same arrangement of Empire on the podium:

let's see what happens in that shot, will we? ..... oh

... did an explosion just go off in the heart of Trantor and potentially take out the entire galaxy's government in one go???? (I mean, Empire are probably fine with their auras and nanobots and backups, but I'm not feeling too good about the Council's chances right now...)

wait - the pulse and shape that appear on the horizon bear a striking resemblance to the new Foundation whisper ships - especially Poly and Constant's ship, Spirit Rising, which is currently in the hands of Hober Mallow...

why did he take their ship, again?

holy fucking shit Hari Seldon you insane rat bastard (admiring, horrified, impressed). what have you DONE. a blade in case the religious hand of friendship doesn't work out, you say??

(sidenote: this was literally the Anacreon plan for the Invictus in the first season - the scale of the destruction would have been magnitudes worse due to the Invictus' size, but same concept)

honestly, I kind of hope the entire Council perishes in the Mallowpocalypse, if only because it would make this exchange in 2.06 deliciously ironic:

the worst detectives in the world finally found their shared braincell and made a deduction! I'm proud of them!

also, Glawen literally saw this coming in 2.04 and Bel brushed him off. ¯_(ツ)_/¯ sad!

regarding casualties - I think this shot from Trailer 1 is the aftermath of the blast. Day was standing much closer to the explosion than the rest of Empire and Dominion, and so would have taken more damage, aura or not. I also see Sareth, Rue (?), and Dawn - jury's out on whether being dead is the latest item added to Dusk's rapidly expanding list of problems?

a direct attack on Trantor would also explain why Day goes on a personal tour of the Outer Reach and ends up on Terminus, screaming for an audience with Hari Seldon (Trailer 1 again):

and hey, Poly's right behind him! he's Empire's best chance of getting a personal audience with the Prophet, after all. Poly also pops up in Day's character spotlight video, in what I'm guessing is the execution scene again, judging from the collar and the guard restraining him. it might even be the aftermath of the blast, since the shot is pretty chaotic and dusty looking. what's got him so upset?

... and it was at this moment that I realised that while Poly is present in the later Terminus scenes with Day, Brother Constant is not, and I started to worry that I'd been focusing on the wrong person the whole time, leading to...

Part 3 - What About Constant?

oh no. the question of Constant's safety has been hanging over both Poly and the viewer since 2.02. oh no

I thought I might have caught a glimpse of her in the Teaser 1 video - being restrained in the background as Day does his infamously-giffed-to-hell Big Steppy on Hober's throat - but I still wanted more concrete proof of her wellbeing.

and finally I found her in the Pillars of Foundation video, alive and well, but -

HER NECK!! HER NECK!!!

if Constant's life is just barely saved by Hober showing up in the nick of time to prevent her decapitation by an insane tyrant I will literally never be normal again. romance. that's romance. (also incredibly shitty of Vault!Hari to take her blind faith and turn her into a pawn for the Empire to slaughter, but I guess that's expected behaviour from him by now.)

... I was literally about to hit post on this theory, but I just realised; that scene in Teaser 1 where Day is facing down a bishop's claw... we all assumed he was being attacked by a wild beast in the Outer Reach - but what if he's lying in the ruins of the podium on Trantor, and the bishop's claw is a freed Beki going on a rampage? god I hope this happens. imagine being Emperor of the Galaxy, about to perform some casual executions before dinner, and suddenly you're flat on your ass with a Hell Dinosaur about to bite your face off. incredible scenes

and that's all I've got! TLDR; Hari knew that the emperors and Galactic Council would become increasingly paranoid and aggressive as the Empire contracted, and would jump at the chance to publicly end an attempted religious takeover by the "barbarian" Outer Reach. That mass gathering at the execution would be the perfect time to strike with a whisper ship, a technology which the Empire has no idea even exists. This enrages Day into visiting Terminus to deal with the Foundation in person, and potentially destabilises the Empire further if the Council have been wiped out. Empire's structure and dignity are decimated without a single shot being fired - and if there is going to be an eventual, physical war, the Foundation is now in a much better position to fight it.

again, this is just me making a theory and connecting everything together with red string etc etc. I haven't attempted to explain everything, such as the Spacers' or Riose's involvement, and have doubtless got some details wrong - but I'm really excited by how things are connecting and can't wait for next week's episode :}

#foundation #foundation season 2 #foundation apple tv #foundation meta #hari seldon #poly verisof #brother constant #hober mallow #brother day #cleon xvii

[dadsbongos]

unusually short eddie fic for valentine's day

1.4 K words

warnings - idk you wear pink and have hair long enough to style :), not patrick mckinney friendly ig 

summary - After being stood up on a Valentine’s picnic date, a friendly neighbor boy comes to end the embarrassment.

You feel silly. Unadulterated and wholeheartedly stupid. Sitting alone at the trailer park benches in a pretty pink number and hair done nicely - you even picked out the best pair of shoes you owned. Not a smudge or scratch or doodle on them. They’re a little tight, but you’d struggle into anything for today to go right.

Only for it to still go wrong.

Instead, you sat in front of a home baked cake with melted, uneven frosting and two empty red solo cups. A plastic pitcher full of pink lemonade sits at the halfway point of the table - untouched and watered down from the dissolved ice. You’d rather be at a restaurant alone or the arcade or the movie theaters or the mall or a park or even Family fucking Video where Steve Harrington could wail out his most overused pick up lines.

But no, you’re at home.

In the middle of multiple other trailers. Alone.

Thin curtains drag to the side and curious faces of old women and snotty 12-year-olds alike peek through cracked windows at your sad lunch for one. The prior ball of dread leading up to this date had now grown into an all-encompassing black hole. You wish it was a real black hole - then you wouldn’t have to go to bed and wake up tomorrow as the talk of Forest Hills.

Maybe it was stupid of you to assume that Patrick McKinney had been serious when he asked you to be his Valentine’s.

Glancing at your watch for the umpteenth time this hour, you see that - yes, it was in fact terribly past noon. An hour passed, actually.

Peeking up, you see Max Mayfield staring from her window - her eyes widen when you catch her and she ducks back down. That makes you nauseous. Worse than any stage fright or test anxiety or presentation jitters could possibly be.

“Hey! Sorry I’m so late,” it is not Patrick McKinney that calls to you, but instead Eddie Munson. He grins as he sits and plops a paper plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the table. His eyes catch the cake you made and he gestures to it like a game show host, “God, you are perfect.”

“Hi?” your hands clamber into your lap, not bothering to fight Eddie as he grabs the - surely room temperature - lemonade and pours himself a cup.

Eddie clears his throat, eyes drifting across the visible trailers, “I saw you were alone and didn’t want anybody thinking you got stood up,” he pauses suddenly, eyes nearly popping from his skull, pink lemonade overflowing from his cup, “Shit, should I not have?”

He curses some more upon noticing he’s spilled the sugary drink and hurries to mop it up with the red napkins you swiped from the store just yesterday. You simply watch. Retorts and replies trapped in the dry swell of your throat - you’re only human, and it’s natural for humans to be foolish. And sometimes foolishness leads to fearing rumors that you know for a fact are not true.

So you opt to not anger the sweet boy next door that you’ve heard is a devil worshiper.

Eddie shakes his head to himself, brows furrowed and he’s seeming to ignore you completely as he mutters to himself, “Sorry, I thought it would be gentlemanly and nice but now I’m - God - just showing up out of nowhere. I should’ve asked.”

“It’s…” you’re stunned at your own voice, but Eddie looks up at you with the biggest, most gentle doe eyes and you feel yourself relax, “It’s fine,” he giggles and you assume you still look stiff and uncomfortable, “Thanks.”

“I’d hate to be alone today,” he shrugs, pushing the mushy napkins into the trashcan at the edge of the table. Once his quest of cleaning the spill completes, he rests his chin in his palm and looks at you with more warmth than Patrick McKinney ever had, “I had a really hot date, you know?”

That makes you break the awkward hold of your body, a smile lighting your cheeks before you even realize it, “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Eddie nods with the heaviest sigh this side of the Mississippi, “But I canceled because, c’mon, who would I be if I just left someone in need all alone?”

“I’m in need, am I?” your arms come up now, laying against the table as you lean forward, “You think I needed saving?”

“Oh, yeah,” you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not, but his voice is theatrical enough for you to know he isn’t trying to be serious. It’s a talent, you think, “A princess in her tower,” he pouts and tilts his head to the side, “Playing solitaire when she wants to try poker.”

You copy his head-tilt, quirking a brow, “And you must be the faithful knight. A real William Marshal.”

“Ohhh,” he leans back so far his hair nearly touches the ground, hands hooked under the table to keep him secure. Suddenly, he pops back up, shaking his head quickly, “I dunno about that. I’m a pretty humble guy.”

“So humble, yeah,” you look over to the knife you’d brough to cut the cake, “Well, my date isn’t coming- “ Eddie places an offended hand over his chest, “My real date isn’t coming. So, would you do the honors?”

“God, I thought you’d never ask,” he instantly picks up the knife before nudges his head towards the paper plate he’d brought, “Help yourself, by the way. I know, uh, it’s not anything fancy,” he seems unsure of himself now, less confident than when he intruded your party of one, “but I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

The fact that he prepared to come shouldn’t have the effect it does. It probably shouldn’t make you want to ask him out on a real date and it definitely shouldn’t make you want to hold his hand.

But you can’t help the way your heart swoons so quickly. You’ve seen Eddie be kind - driven kids around the park to school, babysat, dog-walked, nurse stray animals and act as an impromptu repairman with his uncle. Now you’re experiencing it and you can’t comprehend how he’s been mangled into some sort of evil creature in the night by the people of Hawkins.

“You’re staring,” he mumbles.

“Hm?”

He locks eyes with you and his shoulders lose their defensive state when he senses no malice, he simpers and grabs a spare paper plate from under the one serving sandwiches, “You were staring.”

“Sorry,” you decide to be bold now. Something in Eddie has already infected you, but you don’t think it's a bad thing, “Just couldn’t tear my eyes away.”

“Oh?” he passes over a plate with a slice of your cake and one of his sandwiches on it, “You think I’m pretty?”

“Something like that,” you snag a plastic fork and dig into the sweet treat you regret intending for Patrick, “Even though you didn’t dress up.”

You should’ve just gone to Eddie’s trailer from the start.

“Hey,” he pauses cutting out his own slice in favor of pulling out the open front of his leather jacket, “this is my fanciest apparel, I’ll have you know.”

“And the,” you make a show of ducking under the table before slinking back into view, “ripped pants?”

“If I didn’t look at least a little trash then I wouldn’t be myself, baby.”

The way ‘baby’ falls from his lips shouldn’t make you want to kiss him - not after the first conversation you’ve actually had. But it does. And it makes you want to hold his hand. And it makes you want to ask him out again tomorrow.

“You don’t look trash,” that’s what you say instead.

As disarming as Eddie so instantly is, he also makes you forget the words in your head when he looks up with those saccharine bambi eyes.

It’d be embarrassing if you weren’t distracted by the way his pretty pink lips are already opening to respond.

“No?” he teases, “What if I didn’t have my fancy little jacket? Just my,” he looks down as if forgetting what shirt he put on this morning, “best Black Sabbath robes?”

“Robes? That game is getting to your head, Munson.”

“Don’t dodge the question.”

He offers his hand, halfway across the table and palm up. The way he shyly bites his bottom lip really shouldn’t make you want to take his silent proposal.

But eagerly, you do. And you don’t regret as much as you’d worried you would.

“No,” your fingers entwine with his and his hand is just as clammy as yours - that’s reassuring, “you wouldn’t look trash, even in your Black Sabbath robes.”

Eddie inhales sharply, eyes flipping from the creaky, splinter-prone table to you and back to the table, “So. This might be forward, but…”

You think you’re done with one-sided relationships - now that you know Eddie Munson was such a perfect Valentine. Maybe you’ll let him be your perfect date tomorrow, too.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things s4 #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #valentines day slay

[sumwan]

/dsmp /rp

I have to rant a bit about the last EvanMCGaming video that covers the Dream SMP finale that was released today. The link is here for those who are interested. This will be pretty negative so all my complaints can be found under the cut.

This video series is described as a documentary. A "detailed storytelling of the Dream SMP." But anyone familiar with these videos already knows how biased they are against Dream. How they portray all of Dream's enemies as victims in any situation and Dream as the villain. And of course, this final video is no different.

All these videos always get hundreds of thousands of views. They are hugely impactful in influencing the fandom's perspective of the characters. And they have surely done a lot to misrepresent Dream's personality, actions, and motivations in many people’s minds.

In the video covering the prison break, Evan (deliberately?) leaves out the staged disc finale reveal. The staged finale casts many of Dream’s statements and plans in a completely new light. It's certainly interesting to not cover this in any way whatsoever. But for the video about the November 2022 finale, there was obviously no choice but to show this.

Imagine my surprise when I saw that the staged disc finale is completely glossed over in Evan's last video. It’s pretty much framed as logical that Punz is still on Dream's side, without any further explanation from Evan, besides just showing Dream briefly telling Tommy and Tubbo why it was staged. It's essentially brushed off and given barely any attention, despite it being a huge reveal.

The whole video is entirely from Tommy's perspective, with hardly any coverage of Dream and Punz's perspectives. All lines from the final stream where Dream explains his perspective are left out, with only him telling Tommy that "you ruined it!" remaining. And not only that, but literally only one line of dialogue from Punz is included in the video. Punz is treated not just as a side character, but as an accessory to Dream with no personality and motivations.

Tommy's perspective is treated as fact, with a lot of attention given to his backstory. Tommy killing Dream is stated to be logical, reasonable, because "since the beginning of his time on the server, Dream had done everything in his power to control [Tommy]. Make his life miserable." After the prison break, Dream was "going to come after Tommy", so Tommy had to kill Dream to have peace. What's funny is that Evan did include Dream saying that he wasn't focused on Tommy at all, but this has no impact since it's preceded by all these dramatic statements from Evan about Tommy.

Overall, the production quality of these videos is very high, with this last video also being edited really well. But the video is filled with false and biased statements and not a good way to get to know and understand the characters, particularly Dream and Punz. My expectations were low for this last video, but it's still disappointing that it ended like that.

#c!dream #c!punz #dreblr #dsmp #staged finale #sorry for the rant I had to vent a bit

[deepseacolors]

Spring of Ingo, March, Day 1: RXR

Ingo and video games!

Unexpectedly, I actually have something. Mostly complete! And on time, even!

This is actually something I wrote last May that I touched up for the event. It was the first thing I'd written in... gosh, at least ten years? And I wasn't a super active writer even back then. So it's pretty rough, even by my standards.

It was more an experiment with the twins' voices than anything else. I doubt that it'd come out the same if I wrote it today, but I remember having oodles of fun with it at the time. (Pokemonifying a Katamari level was unexpectedly interesting!)

So even if it's a little rough, a lot silly, and not exactly aligned with even my own headcanons, I'm still pretty fond of it.

Anyways! Onwards!

--

Emmet glanced up from his Xtrans once the tune for the new level began.

“What is the goal?” he asked.

“For this stage, I am tasked with creating an ‘elegant’ constellation,” Ingo informed him. “It seems that I am searching for Swanna and various other Flying-types, due to the natural grace and beauty that bird Pokemon posses.”

Emmet glanced over at Archeops, who was, at present, pouring all of her dexterity into jamming her head into an empty paper towel roll that she had dug out of the garbage. Then he turned to Ingo with a bland smile that said volumes.

Ingo returned the look with one of his own before turning back to the television to begin his mission in earnest. “Grace is in the eye of the beholder,” he said, beginning the stage by carefully maneuvering his Katamari to aim for the small eggs scattered throughout the level. “As such, it can take many forms.”

Emmet kept his gaze pointedly on Ingo as the sound of a beak tearing through cardboard, followed by a despairing squawk, echoed through their living room.

Ingo did not respond. He was doing important work, here.

And he most certainly did not smirk when Archeops dropped a soggy chunk of cardboard directly onto Emmet’s lap, causing him to jerk in mixed surprise and disgust.

She was looking at up him with wide, pleading eyes as she rested her chin on the couch. Clearly, Archeops had the utmost faith that Emmet would be able to fix her new toy.

Making a noise somewhere between a choke and a hiss, Emmet delicately plucked the mangled corpse of what was once a perfectly serviceable cardboard tube off his leg and brought it towards the kitchen—speeding up and holding his other hand under the trash to catch the droplets once he realized how thoroughly sopping the mess was.

Archeops cheerfully followed him, circling his legs and remaining wholly unaware of what a darling menace she was.

The Katamari on the screen brushed just a little too close to one of the Rattata too large for it to absorb, and several of his gathered items were knocked loose. Drat. Now he had to scramble to re-gather the eggs before they disappeared.

(Hah. Scrambled eggs.)

Ingo could hear Emmet lightly scolding Archeops in the next room as he disposed of the tube, likely making sure to secure the lid of the trash can to prevent future break-ins, before moving on to wash his hands and then heading down the hall towards his room.

After a few minutes, Emmet returned to the couch. Out of the corner of his eye, Ingo saw that his twin was now sporting a clean pair of sweatpants— which were quickly covered up by Archeops as she clambered up on to the couch and made herself at home on Emmet’s lap.

Emmet heaved a beleaguered sigh that was belied by way his expression softened and the gentle hands that began scratching at the spot along her side that she liked. Archeops chirped in pleasure as she rolled to lean into his hand, her eyes drifting shut.

“She still believes herself to be the size of an Archen,” Ingo observed fondly. His attention returned to the game just in time for him to avoid an obstacle in his intended path.

Huffing a laugh, Emmet brought his other hand up to lightly rub his fingers along Archeops’ head. She leaned into that attention too. “She is a big baby,” he agreed affectionately.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, Emmet asked, “...Why did a Swanna just hatch from that Chansey egg?”

“I believe it is a misdirection tactic,” Ingo says. “Swanna are the most important Pokemon to gather, but they are all hidden in Chansey eggs; there are also Pidgey among the lot, and quite a few soft-boiled eggs as well.”

Ingo misjudged the angle of descent and sent his Katamari tumbling off the roof of the building. No matter; there were plenty of items to gather in the yard section.

After watching for a few more moments, Emmet said, “You are gathering dandelions. Those are not Flying-type Pokemon.”

“I am simply gathering those to increase the size of my Katamari. The larger it is, the lower the odds that a valuable item will get knocked from it in the event of a collision. Additionally, a larger Katamari makes it easier to traverse throughout the level.”

Emmet hummed as Ingo wedged the Katamari underneath the porch. “Really.”

“...Generally, that is the case,” Ingo admitted.

“Your task is to gather Flying types. You are gathering plants. You are going to get scolded.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. We shall see what station I reach once the time limit is up.”

Emmet turned to give him a faux-serious look, the effect enhanced by the flatness of his voice when he says, “Father is going be be upset.”

Ingo choked, sputtering on laughter so loud and sudden that Archeops was startled out of her doze.

#girumiwrites #springo #fun fact: archeops was originally meant to be a one-off joke. and this fic was originally meant to be even shorter than this. #that silly bird barged in and stole the narrative from me for a bit #this one was inspired by my own brother and I #a major bonding activity with us is just hanging out and watching each other play video games #chattering and commenting. teasing when the other messes up and helping out when we hit a roadblock. #... but i'm going to be honest. as fun as it is to imagine these scenarios... in my heart of hearts... #i don't think either twin would really GET video games #scheduled post #unfortunately i only have stuff for days one and two at this point. #i have ideas but can't make promises for some of the other days

[jujumin-translates]

Event | Secret Happy Factory | Epilogue: I Want to Tell You What I Like

Sakuya: Umm…

Sakuya: Ah, Azami-kun. There, it’s the Elfriede Christmas coffret.

Azami: Sweet. Glad they’ve still got it.

Sakuya: All of these cosmetics are so pretty…! They’ve got a little bit of a different feel than the ones we used before.

Azami: Yeah.

Azami: I got a lot of stuff from the Elfriede PR deal, but there’s still another new thing I want.

Sakuya: So that’s why you wanted to come here.

Azami: Yeah.

Azami: Sakyo asked if I was buying something I already have. God, that guy is clueless.

Azami: This is completely different from any of the stuff I have, can’t believe he messed that up. Then I had to give such a dumbed-down explanation so that even Shitty Sakyo could understand.

Azami: Worth it, though. I managed to snag a bit more of the budget.

Sakuya: You’re so tough, Azami-kun…!

Azami: ‘Course I am. Anyway, let’s go grab the stuff.

Shop Employee: Welcome.

Shop Employee: Ah…!

Azami: ?

Azami: Ah…

Shop Employee: Um… Are you two Sakuya-kun and Azami-kun from MANKAI Company?

Sakuya: Yeah! That’s us.

Shop Employee: I watched your stream the other night! I really loved your stage makeup, and the stan makeup you mentioned!

Azami: Thanks.

Sakuya: Waah, thank you so much!

Shop Employee: Actually, my makeup today is inspired by Azami-kun’s stan makeup…

Azami: I can tell. Thought it might’ve been that when I first saw it. ‘Cause of how your eyeshadow looks.

Shop Employee: I’m so glad you noticed!

Shop Employee: Actually, some of the customers we got then were coming just after having watched the stream.

Shop Employee: We had a great time just going on and on about the stan makeup.

Sakuya: That’s great!

Azami: I’m glad you were interested in it.

Shop Employee: I’d love to see you do that sort of thing again!

Azami: Count on it whenever I get the opportunity again.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Azami: Hey, Sakuya-san. If you’re down, wanna make another video?

Azami: Actually, I got some requests to review the Elfriede Christmas coffret.

Azami: I wanna try it out on both of us and post about how it is.

Sakuya: Of course! I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ll do with the cosmetics.

Azami: Thanks. …Right. How’d you feel about doing a different type of project?

Sakuya: A different type of project? Like what?

Azami: We could do something with the stan makeup we just talked about… Or maybe we could use the roles from the performance as a motif this time.

Sakuya: Waah… Sounds fun!

Azami: And later… Maybe I can do a collection of loser makeup using Sakyo’s face.

Sakuya: Eeh!? Wouldn’t that be… Kinda scary to do?

Azami: Haha.

Azami: Actually, I’d really like to use a feminine model like the Director, but that’s not really possible.

Sakuya: Yeah, guess you’re right…

Azami: …

Sakuya: ?

Azami: …Might be too much to ask, but would you wanna try out some feminine clothes… Or…?

Sakuya: Eh! Umm, i-if you’re really sure I’ll be good enough then… I’ll do my best!

Azami: I was joking. Don’t take it so seriously.

Azami: But you really did help me out a lot this time. Thanks, Sakuya-san.

Sakuya: But all I really did was the play… But I’m glad I could help.

Sakuya: Let’s keeping sharing what we love and all have fun together.

Azami: …Yeah.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ]

#a3! #a3! translation #sakuya sakuma #azami izumida #// azami vc i was just joking #oh were you now

[lizzygrantarchives]

Rolling Stone, July 16, 2014

The vamp of constant sorrow talks about love and death — then tries to wiggle out of her cover story.

SHE GOES TO a dark place, in the end, and won’t come out of it. “I’m not sure if they should run this story,” Lana Del Rey will say, sprawled out on a soft brown couch in tiny denim cutoffs and a white V-neck tee, blowing pensive little gum bubbles. She has, by this point, spent a good seven hours talking with me. At times, it even seemed like it was going well.

“I feel like maybe we should wait until there’s something good to talk about,” she continues, in an airy tone that turns pleading. “You know? I just wish you could write about something else. There has to be someone else to be the cover story. Like, there has to be. Anybody.”

Maybe it shouldn’t have been a shock, landing here. Del Rey’s brand of pop stardom is self-thwarting, ambivalent, precarious: At her clouded core, beneath the considerable glamour, she is more Cat Power or Kurt Cobain than Rihanna or Katy Perry, complete with a mysterious, Kurt-like stomach ailment that plagues her on tour. And then there’s the tattoo on the side of her right hand, just below the pinkie, inked in neat black cursive: TRUST NO ONE. (On the same spot on the other hand: PARADISE.)

Still, a day earlier, it all feels different. On a cloudless, offensively hot mid-June afternoon in New York, the release day for Del Rey’s second major-label album, Ultraviolence, she answers the green wooden door of the Greenwich Village town house where she’s staying. “I’m Lana, nice to see you,” she says, offering a soft handshake and a big, white, hopeful smile, one that instantly suggests everything you think you know about her is wrong: that you’ve read too much into the consecutive placement of songs called “Sad Girl” and “Pretty When You Cry” on the new album; that you’ve taken certain recent interview quotes (mainly, “I wish I was dead already,” which earned her a Twitter scolding from Frances Bean Cobain) too seriously; that it’s a mistake to assume her aloof stage manner has anything to do with her actual personality.

Her laugh, fizzy and girlish, is coming easily. She’s all but giddy over having her album out, uncompromising, spooky, guitar-laden, hitless thing that it is: “It’s what I wanted.” Today’s V-neck tee is powder blue, nearly matching the self-applied pastel polish on her longish nails, over pale, strategically shredded jeans, cuffed just below the calves, that are familiar from another magazine’s photo shoot. She’s wearing false eyelashes but not much noticeable makeup. Del Rey is four days away from her 29th birthday (for reasons she can’t explain, she’s usually reported to be a year younger), but looks, at the moment, like a college junior home for the summer.

She seems so carefree – bubbly, even – that within 10 minutes, it seems safe to break the ice: “So, on a scale of one to 10, how much do you wish you were dead right now?”

Her big brownish-green eyes widen even further. Then she lets out a delicate snort of amusement. “Ten being dead?” she says. “You’re funny! Today is a good day.” Today she chooses life? “Yeah, today I choose life.” So, like a one? “10. 10!” she says, in a daffy singsong, not unlike Diane Keaton murmuring “la di da” in Annie Hall. “Seven. 12!” She throws back her head and laughs, possibly beginning to enjoy herself.

But when it comes to Lana Del Rey, who can tell anything for sure? She’s a baffling bundle of contradictory signifiers, a mystery that 10,000 tortured think pieces have failed to solve. David Nichtern, who signed her to his small indie label when she was still in college, saw her as “the outer aspect of Marilyn Monroe with the inner aspect of Leonard Cohen”: She may look a bit like Nico, but she’s her own Lou Reed. She’s nervous and self-conscious onstage, but fearless in her lyrics (“My pussy tastes like Pepsi-Cola”; “I was an angel looking to get fucked hard”). Her consistently viral videos are id-infested pageants of creepy-nostalgic Americana, good-girl/bad-girl dichotomies and the occasional make-out sesh with an old dude. Just try to figure out what’s going on in her 2012 clip for “National Anthem,” where she plays both Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy, dares to riff on the Zapruder footage, and casts rapper A$AP Rocky as JFK.

She’s a pop superstar with hardly any actual radio hits in the U.S., just a remix of her song “Summertime Sadness” that she never even heard before its release. And, perhaps more than any other pop star of this century, she’s been misunderstood, even hated. She was the subject of a savage indie-nerd backlash – a pre-lash, really – before most of America had ever heard of her. (Among other complaints, music bloggers felt somehow duped when her online hit “Video Games” led to a near-instant major-label deal.) Her shaky, slightly dead-eyed Saturday Night Live debut was treated like a national emergency, inspiring weeks of debate, including Brian Williams playing music critic (he was not a fan). She had her change of name from Lizzy Grant presented as evidence of deception rather than showbiz-as-usual. She had to deny surgically enhancing her lips’ poutiness (up close, for what it’s worth, they look pretty much like lips).

Released in the wake of the SNL performance, her 2012 debut on Interscope Records, Born to Die, got skeptical reviews. The songs, and her mannered, multilayered vocals, seemed to be drowning in lush, trip-hop-y production. But with the help of strong, cinematic new tracks on the bonus EP Paradise, it all turned around: The album sold more than 1 million copies in the U.S. (and more than 7 million worldwide); her Great Gatsby soundtrack single, “Young and Beautiful,” went platinum. Kanye West, who takes matters of taste seriously, enlisted her to play his wedding to Kim Kardashian. “It was beautiful, just being there,” Del Rey says. “They seemed very happy.” Earlier, over lunch, West had told her “he really liked where I was coming from, visually and sonically.”

Del Rey isn’t inclined to celebrate any of this stuff, however. “It doesn’t feel like success,” she says. “Because with everything that could have felt like something really sweet, there’s always been something out of the periphery of my world, beyond my control, to kind of disrupt whatever was happening. I’ve never felt like, ‘Oh, this is great.’ ”

The town house Del Rey is staying in belongs to someone she calls “a friend”: 31-year-old Francesco Carrozzini, a dashing Italian photographer who’s shot her for various European magazines. He obviously does well for himself – “better than us,” Del Rey jokes, as she shows me around. His four-story house is a seriously amazing bit of Manhattan real estate, a movie-star-worthy bachelor pad, its dark wood walls covered with art photos and his shots of celebrities like Keith Richards. The house is on the same block where Bob Dylan moved with his family in 1969; Anna Wintour lives nearby, as does Baz Luhrmann.

On the second-floor coffee table, near a Serge Gainsbourg box set, there’s a book called The Boudoir Bible. “No shame,” Del Rey says with a grin. She’s sitting on the brown couch, smoking Carrozzini’s American Spirit cigarettes in her languid way, below a huge black-and-white photo of a bunch of slim, naked people piled on top of one another. The midday sun is blazing through an open window, and her brown hair and fair skin are glowing in its haze – an Instagram filter or cinematographer couldn’t do better. “I quit sometimes,” she says, of the cigarettes. “And then stop quitting.” She smokes onstage, too – it’s pure craving, not an image thing. “I find, sometimes, halfway through the set, I definitely need to have a cigarette.”

Within a few days, she’ll be photographed nuzzling with Carrozzini in Europe. But for now, she says, she’s single. Starting in December or so, Del Rey began a protracted breakup with Barrie-James O’Neill, her boyfriend of three years. He’s a songwriter, which allowed her to live out some Dylan/Joan Baez fantasies (she’s partial to Baez’s paean to that romance, “Diamonds and Rust,” even quoting it on “Ultraviolence”). “It’s all been hard,” Del Rey says. “Yeah, my life is just feeling really heavy on my shoulders, and his own neuroses just getting the best of him, I think, just made it untenable. Which is sad, because it was truly circumstantial, the reasons for us not being together.”

Ultraviolence feels, at times, like a breakup album, though Del Rey says all of the songs were actually about previous relationships. Either way, it answers a lot of questions about her, even as it raises some new ones. If she were the corporate puppet or calculated fraud some of her detractors imagined her to be, this is not an album she would ever make. The main producer was Black Keys frontman Dan Auerbach, who’s gifted at summoning vintagey atmosphere and Morricone-ish grandeur, but is in little danger of being confused with Dr. Luke or Max Martin. They recorded much of it live, with his Nashville crew of rock musicians playing while Del Rey sang into a $100 handheld microphone, her vocals newly raw, jazzy and powerful. There are a bunch of guitar solos. But not one track seems even vaguely suited for pop radio.

Even before Auerbach got involved, Del Rey knew that she wanted something very different this time around. “This record was, ‘I’m going to do it my way,’ ” says her friend Lee Foster, who runs Electric Lady Studios and co-produced some of the album there. Foster told her that Bruce Springsteen had followed up Born in the U.S.A. with the stark Nebraska (Foster had the order reversed, but close enough). “We talked about taking that stance, like Springsteen shifting gears and saying, ‘I’m gonna do exactly what you don’t expect me to do.’ “

Auerbach ran into Del Rey at Electric Lady, where he was mixing Ray LaMontagne’s new LP. “Honestly, we both benefited from really not knowing anything about each other,” he says. After she played him some of the demos she was working on, he became a fan, lobbying to produce her. But he was taken aback by the major-label hassles he experienced – Del Rey is signed to two of them, Interscope and the U.K.’s Polydor. “There was a lot of bullshit I’m not used to,” Auerbach says. “The label says, ‘We’re not going to give you the budget to extend this session unless we hear something.’ And we send them the rough mix and they fucking hate it and they hate the way it’s mixed. And it’s like, ‘Thanks, asshole.’

“The story I got told,” he continues, “is that they played it for her label person and they said, ‘We’re not putting out this record that you and Dan made unless you meet with the Adele producer.’ And she said, ‘Fine, whatever.’ And she was late to the meeting, so while they were waiting, the label guy played what we recorded for the Adele producer and he said, ‘This is amazing – I wouldn’t do anything to change this.’ And here’s the kicker: Then all of a sudden, the label guy said, ‘Well, yeah, I think it’s great, too.’ ”

“I had heard about some back and forth regarding the music,” says Interscope chief John Janick. “But Lana knows her vision and her audience, and it’s up to us to follow her lead.” Del Rey acknowledges a six-week period this past spring when things were in limbo: “I mean, I think there were people they wanted me to work with,” she says. “I don’t know who they were. When I said I was ready, they were like, ‘Are you sure?’ ” She laughs. ” ‘Because I feel like you could go further.’ “

“On this album, in my opinion, you didn’t want her to try to do something,” says Janick’s predecessor at Interscope, Jimmy Iovine. “I felt she hit a bull’s-eye. Everybody’s saying to me, ‘We need a single,’ calling me from Europe. I said, ‘You don’t need anything.’ It’s a very coherent body of work, and I thought any other conversation was a distraction. Lana, more than most, reminds me of artists that I produced” – he’s thinking of Patti Smith and Stevie Nicks in particular – “which is slightly different than the majority of artists that are on Interscope. Because you can’t find those artists every day. She’s one of the rare things that come along in life, which is a lyricist. You know how rare they are, today, outside rap?”

Del Rey’s co-manager, Ben Mawson, warned her that she’d have to answer for some of the new album’s lyrics, particularly the title track, which quotes the old girl-group line “He hit me and it felt like a kiss,” then adds, “He hurt me but it felt like true love,” just in case she hadn’t made her point. She’s vague on whether this theme might be autobiographical: “I guess I would say, like, I’m definitely drawn to people with a strong physicality,” she says with a shrug, “with more of a dominant personality.”

She’s not worried about any message those lines might send. “It’s not meant to be popular,” she says, sitting in the backyard of the town house, which opens onto a shared garden, where Dylan had angered his neighbors decades ago by trying to put up a fence. She’s sipping hot coffee through a straw, a longstanding habit she acknowledges is both “weird” and “nerdy.” “It’s not pop music,” she says. “The only thing I have to do is whatever I want, and I want to write whatever I want. I just hope people don’t ask me about it. So I don’t feel a responsibility at all. I mean, I just don’t. I feel responsible in other ways, communitywise – to be a good citizen, abide by the law.”

But precisely how does she want the public to hear those lines? “I just don’t want them to hear it at all,” she says, pouting a little. “I’m very selfish. I make everything for me, kind of. I mean, every little thing, down to the guitar and the drums. It’s just for me. I want to hear it, I want to drive to it, I want to swim in the ocean to it. I want to think about it, and then I want to write something new after it. You know? It’s just … I don’t want them to hear it and think about it. It’s none of their business!”

But, um, isn’t she selling people this music? “I’m not selling the record,” she says. “I’m signed to a label who’s selling the record. I don’t need to make any money. I really could care less. But I do care about making music. I would do it either way. So that’s why it has to be on my terms.”

Del Rey has never been in therapy. “There’s nothing anyone could ever tell me that I don’t already know,” she says. “I know everything about myself. I know why I do what I do. All of my compulsions and interests and inspirations. I’m very in sync with that. It’s the other stuff that I don’t have any control over, just what’s going to happen on a daily basis. My interactions.”

So what drives her? “Now? Nothing,” she says. “I don’t have any drive anymore. But I enjoy making records. Before, I felt drive, but now it just feels like an interest. With the first record having received so much analysis, there’s no more room for ambition. It breaks that part down, just because you sort of know what to expect, and that nothing is going to work out the way you think anyway.”

She doesn’t want to conquer the world? “No, what I’d love to do is, Francesco has a bike downstairs,” she says. “I would love to take a motorcycle to Coney Island and have an amazing talk with you and jump in the water.” Somehow, this plan never comes up again.

Even as a small child, Elizabeth Woolridge Grant was, by her own recollection, “obstinate, contrary.” She was born in Manhattan to parents who both worked Mad Men-style jobs at the advertising giant Grey, but when she was one year old, they gave up those careers and moved to sleepy, upstate Lake Placid. Her dad would go on to start his own furniture company, get into real estate and then become a successful early investor in Web domain names. But Lizzy just wished they had stayed in the city. “It was really, really quiet,” says Del Rey, who has compared the town to Twin Peaks. “I was always waiting to get back to New York City. School was hard. The traditional educational system was not really working for me.”

At 14 or so, Lizzy started drinking and hanging out with older kids. The scenario, she recognizes with a laugh, was not unlike the harrowing movie Thirteen. “In small towns, you sort of grow up fast because there isn’t that much to do,” she says. “So you’re out with everybody else who’s already graduated, and that’s totally normal. But it just didn’t sit well with everyone in my family.”

“I’m a sad girl/I’m a bad girl,” she sings on her new album – but the sad part didn’t come until later. She “felt passionate” about drinking, sharing bottles of peach and cherry schnapps with her friends. “I felt like I had kind of arrived into my own life,” she says, her voice turning dreamy. “I felt free. Even though I loved leaving town, by the time I was about 15, I knew I was probably going to stay there and have a life there. I mean, I had a vision for myself, definitely, at that point. I didn’t see becoming a singer or anything. I just wanted to grow up and get married and have fun. Have my own life, my own place.” Her parents, meanwhile, wanted her to become a nurse.

Losing patience with her partying, they sent her away to Connecticut’s Kent School. The move failed to curtail her drinking, and she was miserable. Her father’s apparent success aside, she says she was on financial aid. “I was very quiet,” she says, “just figuring things out. I didn’t relate well with what was going on culturally.” She wasn’t into mean girls. “The ways people treated other people, I thought was kind of cruel. The high school mentality I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t really, like, snarky or bitchy.” In an early song called “Boarding School,” she mentions being part of a “pro-ana nation,” referring to anorexia, and sings, “Had to do drugs to stop the food cravings.” But she insists that’s fiction: “The mentality of the pro-ana community was just something that was interesting to me.”

A young English instructor introduced her to Allen Ginsberg, Walt Whitman and Vladimir Nabokov (she has tattoos of the latter two names on her forearm), plus Tupac, the Notorious B.I.G. and old movies like The Big Sleep. Lines in “Boarding School” and another unreleased track, “Prom Song,” led fans to question the precise nature of this relationship, but Del Rey says it was nothing inappropriate: “He was just my friend.”

She started to think that she might want to be a singer, but could hardly bring herself to say it out loud, especially to her family. “I just thought it was kind of a presumptuous thing to say, coming from a more traditional background. You wouldn’t say it unless you really meant it.”

The summer after her senior year, back in Lake Placid, she woke up sick and hung over one morning, and suddenly realized something important was missing. “I lost my car,” she says. “I couldn’t find it. And … I don’t know, I just lost it. And I was just really sick. It was just one of the many reasons why my life was unmanageable. I didn’t want to keep fucking up. And at that point, if I was going to keep going, I wanted to have something that I really wanted to do.”

She says she hasn’t had a drink or gotten high since that year, but won’t clarify whether she considers herself an alcoholic, or if she ever went to rehab. “It’s just you never really know what’s going to happen,” she says. “Things change every day.”

She had gotten into SUNY Geneseo, a college in New York’s state-university system, but decided not to go. She took the year off, heading to her aunt and uncle’s house on Long Island. She worked as a waitress, just as she’d done over various summers. “I loved it,” she says, though her mom told one of her label execs that she had been a truly awful waitress.

Her uncle taught her some guitar chords, and she started playing open mics in the city. Somewhere around that time, she read Anthony Scaduto’s pioneering Bob Dylan biography, which she saw as a “road map” toward becoming an artist.

The next fall, she enrolled at Fordham University in the Bronx, where she majored in philosophy but otherwise hardly participated in student life. She lived with boyfriends, crashed on couches. “I was writing, writing, for years,” she says. “Trying to figure out what I really wanted to say and why I was consumed with this passion for writing, where it came from. It kept me up all night. So I was waiting to see why. That was a really whole separate world.”

She’d ride the subway late at night, composing lyrics in her head. “There were these nights that I enjoyed so much, just staying up and writing songs.” She cites a sparse, Cat Power-ish tune called “Disco” (“I am my only god now,” she sings, cheerily) and “Trash Magic” (sample lyric: “Boy, you want to come to the motel, honey/ Boy, ya wanna hold me down, tell me that you love me?”): “I felt I was really capturing my life in song form, and it was such a pleasure. And that being my whole life, you know? And really being happy, because I was doing exactly what I loved.”

A Williamsburg, Brooklyn, songwriting competition in 2006 led her to 5 Points Records, a tiny label run by Nichtern, who had, years earlier, written the Maria Muldaur hit “Midnight at the Oasis.” “I knew immediately that she was gonna be a big star,” says Nichtern. “And she herself knew, and not just by chutzpah or bravado. On some level she knew this was what her karma was.”

Nichtern hooked her up with producer David Kahne, the guy behind Sublime and Sugar Ray hits, who recalls leading her to looped beats for the first time. Kahne was a well-connected industry veteran and she was an unknown kid, but he found her somewhat daunting. “She was mysterious,” Kahne says. “I was confused a lot of the time whether what I was doing was right or wrong, whether she liked it or didn’t. It felt, a lot of times, like everything could change all of a sudden.” Like, for instance, Lizzy’s name.

Lana Del Rey is, she says, the same person – the same artist, even – as Lizzy Grant. “There’s not, like, a schism between people,” she says. “It’s actually just a different name, and that’s sort of where it begins and ends. I just thought it was strange, being born into this geographic lock-down location, and a name that you didn’t choose, and going to school for fucking 23 years. It was just unfathomable to me. So I think in choosing that name, it was just more becoming who I was, you know? It wasn’t music-related. It was just part of my life.” The other possible name was Cherry Galore, she says, probably joking: “You’d be sitting here calling me ‘Cherry.’ ”

By the time Lizzy became Lana for good, 5 Points had already released an EP from the Kahne sessions under the name Lizz Grant – and iTunes had selected Lizzy as one of the best new artists of 2008. “As we’re putting the album together, she says something like, ‘I really want to change my name,’ ” recalls Nichtern, who had been taking Lizzy and her album around the industry. “If we’re making the movie, you’d see a spit take. We’d just gotten that far with Lizzy Grant.” But Del Rey had found new management, dyed her hair from blond to brown and was ready to move on. They ended up all but scrubbing the LP’s existence from the Internet, which made it look like they were trying to hide Del Rey’s past, contributing to conspiracy-mongering later on. “We didn’t want the old album to be available just as we were trying to launch a new thing,” says Mawson, her co-manager. “And if that created suspicion in the eyes of weirdos on the Internet, then fine.”

Del Rey went off to London for months of writing sessions, one of which yielded an elegiac ode to a boyfriend who liked to play World of Warcraft, though she knew simply calling it “Video Games” was a lot more poetic (“Sometimes a girl’s just gotta generalize”). She had started making videos using iMovie, mixing self-shot webcam segments and YouTube clips: “Just putting things together, building a little world.” She perfected the approach with “Video Games,” creating a career-launching viral video. Even as she faced legal action for appropriating footage, people accused her of not actually making the “Video Games” clip herself – The New Yorker, of all places, called it “allegedly homemade.” “I definitely wouldn’t say I did if I didn’t,” she says with a sigh, showing me the software on her MacBook, which has a badly cracked screen. “That would be weird.”

It’s a clairvoyant, appropriately enough, who gives the first hint that something will go wrong on the second day. “I was trying to think of shit we could do,” Del Rey says, greeting me again at the town house door. “The only thing I could think of is we could see a psychic together.” In any case, she needs cigarettes, so we head out into the June heat. She’s wearing cheap, gold-framed sunglasses with peach-colored lenses. “They’re so ugly,” she says, striding along Bleecker Street. “Rose-colored glasses. Just what the doctor ordered.”

Del Rey was raised Catholic, but she has a mystical bent. “I’m definitely a seeker,” she says. While she was waiting for the Kahne album to come out, she got involved with an “East Village guru” who “had an ability to see into the past and read into the future.” But she left his orbit after detecting something “sinister” about him.

We end up paying a visit to a storefront psychic next to a bodega, in a creepy, red-walled room. The mystic turns out to be an unexpectedly fresh-faced woman in a matching red sundress, who enforces strict rules about “energy.” Del Rey asks her to do our readings together, but the psychic demurs: “Can I talk to the young lady alone?” The outing is becoming comically pointless.

Del Rey is laughing as we return to the house, though maybe slightly irritated. “Fuck,” she says. “I should’ve thought that one out. I don’t think she had the gift. It’s always sort of a menacing vibe unless you go to somebody who’s, like, world-renowned.” The psychic told her that this is her year for love and happiness – Del Rey jokes that there’s still six months left. She’s amused to hear that the psychic told me that I’m spiritually sensitive: “She could probably tell that you thought she was being a fucking bitch.”

We go back to talking, with Del Rey blowing cigarette smoke out the window, into the light. We finally touch on Saturday Night Live, still a dangerous subject. The performance, she maintains, “wasn’t dynamic, but it was true to form.” But the reaction was agonizing. She felt music-business friends pulling away from her. “Everyone I knew suddenly wasn’t so sure about me,” she says. “They were like, ‘Maybe I don’t want to be associated with her – not a great reputation.’ ” Iovine says they simply “got caught speeding” with the early performance, and that he spent time in the studio afterward coaching Del Rey on using in-ear monitors.

I ask her about “Ride,” a song where she sings about feeling “fucking crazy” – not an isolated sentiment in her catalog. “Well, I feel fucking crazy,” she says. “But I don’t think I am. People make me feel crazy.” We talk a little about the “I wish I were dead” thing, which she blames on leading questions. “I find that most people I meet figure I kind of want to kill myself anyway,” she says. “So, it comes up every time.”

Then, really without warning, her mood shifts. It’s a powerful thing, palpable in the room, like a sudden mass of threatening clouds. Her eyes seem to turn a shade darker: Trust no one. I ask, perversely, about “Fucked My Way Up to the Top,” one of Ultraviolence‘s best songs, which attacks an unnamed imitator who didn’t have to go through the gauntlet Del Rey did. It may be about Lorde, who criticized Del Rey’s lyrics but has a not-dissimilar vocal style.

She just released the song yesterday, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. “Now you are annoying me,” she says, half-trying to sound like she’s kidding. She lights a cigarette, looking miserable.

We begin an agonizing, endless meta-conversation about our interview and her relationship with the press. “I find the nature of the questions difficult,” she says. ” ‘Cause it’s not like I’m a rock band and you’re asking how everything got made and what it’s like touring in arenas and what are the girls like. It’s about my father. It’s about my mental health. It’s fucking personal. And these questions all have negative inferences: It’s just like, ‘SNL. Do you actually want to kill yourself?’ … Maybe I’m sensitive. Do you think?”

That’s when she says she doesn’t want to be on the cover of Rolling Stone anymore. She also says, “What you write won’t matter” – meaning that nothing will change her detractors’ minds about her.

It goes on and on. “You hit all my more sensitive weaknesses, all my Achilles’ heels. You’re asking all the right questions. I just really don’t want to answer them.”

Every attempt to talk her off this rhetorical ledge seems to make it worse. Del Rey stands up, in a distinct “time to go” gesture.

“I definitely presented myself well, and that’s all I’ve ever done,” she says, walking me downstairs. “And that’s never really gotten me anywhere. I’m just uncomfortable, and it has nothing to do with you.”

Stepping out, I try to convince her that her crisis of confidence over the interview is no big deal. It is, again, the wrong thing to say.

“It’s not a crisis of confidence, it’s not,” she says, standing in the doorway. “I am confident.” Her eyes are ablaze with hurt and pride. “I am.” She says goodbye, and shuts the door.

Originally published on rollingstone.com with the headline Lana Del Rey: The Saddest, Baddest Diva in Rock, and in the July 31, 2014 issue of Rolling Stone with the headline Vamp of Constant Sorrow.

#2014 #Ultraviolence #Rolling Stone #Brian Hiatt

[becauseiamnotanelephant]

no rest for the weary

Graham thinks I do too much with Hannah but I think she rolls with it pretty well and we do a lot of interesting things.

Today we started off at Van Vleck for their monthly Saturday morning toddler adventure series. We learned about signs of animals - footprints, homes, left over partially eaten acorns and leaves, nests, etc. We made a fox print, colored in a fox and wolf foot print, practiced our cutting skills and made our own sheets for a scavenger hunt....she really does amazing at all these things other than a complete lack of ability to not be distracted by anything anyone else is doing around her. I wonder what school will be like but maybe she's just not used to watching what other kids do.

Then we walked over to the Montclair Art Museum for the Lunar New Year festival. We saw some amazing fan dancing, drumming, an outrageous tai kwon do demonstration (this is the group - https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=1358265671301381), a face changer (I was really impressed - you should look it up if you don't know what it is and see if you can find a video). Apparently there are Mandarin language programs in all the schools around here so there were lots of classrooms up on stage performing (at all ages). It was really great and Hannah seemed totally engaged. She also liked the calligraphy art project. They definitely run some great events for the major Asian holidays.

When the kindergarten class went up to perform she assumed they were her peers and asked if she could go on stage too. It will be so fun to see her dance performance in June.

My favorite social moments -

When one of the classes performed, there was a kid, front and center, maybe 8 years old, who just refused to do anything with his hands in his pocket and a smirk on his face. I'm sure his mom wanted to kill him but not more than when her younger daughter who was sitting next to Hannah gave up her cover by shouting "Mom, he's not doing it!"

Then when the junior high class got on stage an 8 year old girl sitting next to me said "ugh, teenagers".

We saw both our mother's helpers and went out for Thai food for lunch during intermission. And then on the way home we stopped at our neighbor Alexander's house for an impromptu playdate. It was a super fun day!

[aravas-writing]

(Secret Star AU)

Title: "Ravenous Rave Romp!"

Cinder had been desperate for money, her normal "allowance" delayed for some reason (Watts!) Which means she needed a job. Emerald, who she had just recruited, said this place would be perfect, but Cinder had second thoughts the minute she walked into the porn studio. But before she could protest, Emerald had already signed her up for a Rave scene, wearing a multi coloured wig, hiding her identity. Cinder reluctantly went along with it, it wasn't like this smiling blonde could be rough with her, which she would have known, had she read the script...

She hated this whole situation with all of her heart. Cinder Fall was not a prostitute! She dangled the dream of sex with her in front of others to do her bidding, not give away her body!

She was done with that ever since she left the Silver Unicorn...once had been well enough.

Alas, that brazen arrogant fool Watts told her that there was some form of difficulty to move her required funds, so she would have to get a job.

Who the hell did he think she was?!

Calm...Calm...deep breaths... Emerald tried her best to get something that would get money easy while being somewhat dignified and matching Cinder's CV.

Somehow, her help had come up with an adult film company looking for new talent. Cinder had almost fried the chocolate-skinned street rat for it, but she had to concede that the terms of the contract she brought back were acceptable. It was a small consolation, alongside Emerald also being given a form.

Of course the greenette would have to fill her copy out as well.

The script was easy enough. Dance in a rave party alongside carefully chosen actors, all of whom actually seemed to relish being able to party on company clock. Then she was to carefully seduce her co-star into dancing with her, before getting dirty right on the dance floor.

Cinder had to admit, public sex had a thrill to it, which was possibly why she accepted these tacky-looking extensions in her hair. Sure, no one outside could tell that those weren't actually part of her hair, but still! Green and blue?!

Right, she was supposed to be a raver...

Miniskirt ready for easy access, skimpy top, makeup done and she was ready to rock the world of whatever guy was going to be sent her way.

...wait, how would one dance rave?

Too late, the crowd was ready and music was getting blasted through the speakers. It was a rather unsophisticated tune, but it certainly was easy enough to dance to. All one had to do was follow the beat.

Easy enough. The bodies around her were dancing fairly close to her, but not close enough to disrupt either Cinder or the cameras. The ravenette put on a bit of a show for them. A shimmy turned into a luscious roll of her hips, before excitedly jump around and letting her ass jiggle beneath her skirt.

And, of course, she only wore a thin thong.

As she danced, she noticed a figure approaching her spot on the dance floor. Judging him to be her co-star, Cinder threw a sneaky glance his way. Blonde hair adorned a head sitting on a tall body as blue eyes sparkled with mischief and adoration in equal parts.

'Oh no, he's hot.' That was most definitely not Cinder Fall's immediate thought upon seeing the guy, who himself was dressed in a shirt and shorts which both featured splatters of neon paint.

She used all her skill as a receiver to pretend to notice him just as he started appearing close to her own space on the dance floor. A howl of excitement ran through the crowd as the song changed. Fittingly enough, it was called "Satisfaction".

A coy smile his way and an extended hand, this silly boy took one huge step towards the Fall Maiden turned raver and danced to the beat. His hands met her hips immediately as he got close, a smile on his own lips as the two actually had fun.

Cinder could scarcely believe it herself. She was having fun to gaudy music and dancing with this ridiculously handsome- this adequately attractive stranger. Her smile became a little more genuine, certainly more so since she became what she was today.

But alas, this lighthearted atmosphere had to be shattered and replaced with a more sexual one. Taking his arm and lifting it slightly, the seductress used the opening to dance right into his arms, rubbing her shapely ass against his crotch. To finish this, she lifted her head to smile at the blonde boy.

He looked surprised at her forwardness, but soon relented and let his hands roam her perfect body. One caressed her thigh, inching close to her crotch while lifting her skirt as another roamed her flat stomach while searching a way towards her boobs.

Another jiggle of her ass, some pressing of her hips against his, and Cinder knew that her co-star was packing. Certainly something to look forward to as one of his hands finally made it up to her clothed boob to cup it gently. His thumb started to circle her nipple through the fabric, making Cinder bite her lip and shimmy around in his arms some more. Her flat stomach undulating was perfectly caught on camera.

Through the droning beat, Cinder wished he could hear her breathing heavily under his touch as he whispered all the dirty things he would do to her in her ear. Alas, there was no sound beyond the music.

Not that words were really necessary. The blonde's hand finally crept beneath her skirt, teasing and caressing her clad mound. She moaned, not that anyone could hear, as she realized that she had gotten wet under him. As his hand kept caressing her, she looked back up to him, craning her neck as she did, and smiled at him using her best fuck-me eyes.

He would have to oblige her, since they still starred in a porn video. He needed to fuck her, he just had to! Oum knows she wanted it.

Nice, well-shaped fingers pulled her thong away, baring what little it concealed to a curious camera lens as the music changed again to a different sound, this one like something was approaching. Cinder smiled at the timing of it as her handsome co-star probed her pussy, exploring it carefully instead of jamming it in like a possessive brute.

So many steps up from what she had to endure...He was focused on her pleasure, his finger scraping against her in the nicest way, pistoning in and out of her tight and ready pussy.

Cinder patience left as her libido rose, and she had to pull his wrist away from her pussy and towards her ass as she turned around, facing him now.

A female voice could be heard in this track, seemingly addressing the listener with an endearing and horny "Hey Baby", asking them increasingly lustful questions. Cinder herself fumbled at her blonde stud's- her friendly blonde's pants to fish out his painfully hard cock. Amber eyes not leaving blue, nimble hands wandered all over his length as her smile grew. Finally, she pulled close, slinging a leg around his hip and directing his cock close to her waiting muff. She could feel his tip close to her lips, so close that her hips moved against it in her own.

Finally, her blonde grabbed the ravenette by the hips and the leg slung around him, balancing her, and guided himself inside her. He didn't even use his hands, making her eyes widen as he entered her just like that.

To anyone looking on, the two were dancing very provocatively. To Cinder Fall, this was an experience unlike any other. He fit her excellently, dare she say perfectly; his cock filled her pussy completely! All the sexy minx wanted was for him to move immediately, perhaps giving her her first orgasm!

Dammit, she was so turned on!

His one hand cupping her ass cheek, he pressed deep and rhythmically inside her, then pulling out, then repeat three times before he followed with several shallow thrusts.

Cinder was certain that her juices were glistening in the lights as the speaking part of the song turned overtly sexual and her man fucked her good. Waves of pleasure ran through her, coursing through her veins as he held her close, amber eyes gazing at him with something so close to adoration that she herself wondered...

"Oh my God!" The girl in the song moaned in pretend lust as Cinder gasped it in actual lust as he simply picked her up, arms beneath her kneepits, and fucked her hard and good while standing.

She was getting close as he made his lust for her relentlessly known. Blue eyes and a mouth slightly opened to moan softly mirrored her own expression as she approached her own high; the very first anyone ever gave her!

A head snapped forward in the decisive moment and hungry lips met, tongues battling against one another as their climax rocked their bodies, a deluge if fun filling Cinder as her partner shivered, moaning into her mouth as her own sounds vibrated, letting them both feel it.

Finally, they separated, and Cinder was gently set down on wobbly legs. Not wasting a second, right after his still-hard dick was back in his pants, she pointed off the dance floor, in the vague direction of "private", and took his hand to lead him away...

"Cut!" The director yelled through the sound. "Excellent shoot, you two! Magnificent performance! You led her well, Jamie!"

As the ravenette blinked owlishly, torn out of her horny mode, her partner basically scratched the back of his head. "Thank you, but I'm pretty sure my partner here is the real star," he screamed back over the din of the ongoing party and pointing to the ravenette.

"Ah, certainly!" The director nodded to her. "We'll wire you your payment for this gig ASAP! You can go to the showers now; just-"

As soon as Cinder heard the word "showers" and saw the hand pointing in the direction, her trek continued, pulling this "Jamie" along undeterredly.

As soon as they arrived, her clothes practically flew off of her while she hungrily glared at the blonde. "I want a second round, Jamie," she clarified.

"Jaune, actually; Jamie is my stage-"

"Jaune, then." He was almost adorably nervous. "Get those extensions out if my hair and I'll make it worth it," Cinder commanded in her best seductress voice, beckoning him to follow as she headed to the shower.

She would definitely sign up to exclusively work with him...

#rwby #secret star au #cinder fall #jaune arc #rwby smut #rwby knightfall

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Mon 14 June ‘21

Louis Tomlinson Cooks is here!! Yeah it’s 100% for sure as delightful to watch Louis make himself a sandwich as you might have hoped, but how was his cooking? Well I’ll let Louis rate himself-- “I’m not gonna lie not that appetizing is it, I mean look at it,” he says when it comes time to taste his creation, plus, “chopping peeling slicing not great to be fair- everything else I’m all right” (he’s… not wrong, even aside from the peeler issues has this man ever held a knife??) but- “it probably tastes nice though as I said it’s not about presentation for me… [munches cutely]... it’s actually pretty banging, that’s actually quite nice!” Success! Maybe it’s cause he knows the secret to faking good cooking- “as you can see I don’t have a lot of cooking ability so the more butter the better,” I mean the experts can tell you, that’s advanced stuff right there! #Louis-aChild! Substituting mustard and ketchup for coleslaw is a bit of a bold move, but in a belated attempt to convince the kiddos to eat some healthy veg even though he won’t he does bravely try the cucumber strips despite being “not really a man for cucumber” and makes a pained attempt to be positive- “bit of crunch.” Oh and speaking of crunch I’m relieved to have learned that the waffle is NOT a waffle, it’s a crispy waffle shaped bit of potato; a much more reasonable fish sandwich addition than the American version of a potato waffle! Full Time Meals polled to see what people think of Louis cooking; the two choices are “it was amazing” and “the best,” THEY GET IT. My kind of Louis poll! Helen Seamons rated him a “10/10 for effort and entertainment”, Masterchef acknowledged Louis as one of their own, and Marcus Rashford keeps it simple- “my guy” with a lil heart. YEAH, SAME.

Harry showed up in Italy, where he was papped in Venice being driven around (with PA Luis) on a boat (as you do, in Venice). He’s in a cool embroidered Bode shirt and shades and fancy hair, looking good. He’s seen carrying his suitcase, taking photos, and resting his head on his arms looking like a model. One might think, since we just saw the My Policeman cast and crew on set celebrating the wrap of the shoot, that they were done filming and Harry was off to do something different, but nope, he’s there to film! The book has key scenes in Venice that folks had been wondering about the filming of, and David Dawson is also being boated around Venice for the paps, so, it seems that was just for the wrap of the *UK* filming, which makes sense I guess since it would mostly be different crew I imagine, and perhaps some of the main cast are done as well.

Liam’s NFT sale is happening tomorrow! If you’re confused and want more info, I’M NOT GONNA HELP THAT MUCH… uh but I mean you can check out Liam’s youtube video explaining though I would guess that won’t help much (even Liam thinks so; “there’s probably websites that explain a lot better than me” he admits). There is a roundup now posted of what’s on offer for the buyers of the NFTs but I’m gonna be really honest with you, I’m more confused now than I was before. It’s clear that there are only SIX LONELY BUG NFTs right? They for sure said that I believe. But the packages for each different piece (token bundles) seem to me like they’re available to multiple buyers? Like maybe you don’t get the NFT but multiple top bidders on each get the extras? Like they can’t be selling multiple copies of the NFT... can they?! Isn’t the WHOLE POINT that only one person gets to own it? I DON’T FUCKING KNOW I AM SORRY. What I think I understand to be true: the six NFT buyers get to go to “a once-in-a-lifetime immersive dining experience at Resorts World Las Vegas” (this is the dinner with Liam and “a selection of crypto leaders from around the world” which takes place on display inside a giant glass box) and also “a bespoke commemorative presentation box containing the world’s leading holographic display... with audio... and a custom made Lonely Bug commemorative coin,” and “a unique QR code directing the owner to a special ‘Director’s Cut’ edit of the short digital film ‘Making Of Lonely Bug Collection’ which features unreleased footage from the day of the drop showing the creators' reactions when the winning bids came in” (I mean YEAH I would think it’s unreleased it literally hasn’t happened?) But then there are really a lot of other extras including tickets with Meet & Greet access to any Liam Payne headline show around the world, admission to pool and cinema parties in Vegas with Liam, signed art, non-Liam extras (I will literally bid to NOT have 20 minute phone calls with those crypto entrepreneurs PLEASE… but that’s just me), and access to an online party hosted by Liam; I really get the impression many of these, especially the last one, are just crypto tokens that are for sale that aren’t linked to the main Lonely Bug NFTs and many more than 6 people can buy them but a lot of the extras I’m not clear on which it is. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll understand better WE WILL SEE.

Liam also dropped by the discord last night to say some hellos (after a “long long day”) and that he “bought a piece of NFT art of myself tonight I’m going to give it as a prize Monday night so someone can own a piece of art that was owned by me” (an even less tangible bragging point than simply owning an NFT wow that’s an achievement) and the most important update- “I want a French Bulldog”! Oh and he said “that’s like one I did myself” in his fanart channel to a pic of a tiny crocheted illustration of Louis and Harry holding up a rainbow flag. Didya Liam?? (...Liam is crocheting??) Anyway I recognize who it’s supposed to be because it’s based on a familiar piece of fanart, but Liam definitely might NOT realize it’s meant to be someone specific, and tbh I’m more <eyeballs> at him saying that at the rainbow flag crocheted thing than at it being shippy.

Our Song acoustic version is out this Friday!! And Niall talked about NH3 some in an interview today; “I’m in the studio most days, it feels really good. I’m kinda in the latter stages of it and then I’ll go get a band together and go in and record the whole thing. I’ve just kind of been writing for the past 9 or 10 months and really enjoying it” and “It sounds like a complete album. God knows when it’s coming out because I’d like to be able to get around the world to see all the fans as well” and “It’s different. It sounds a lot more grown up. I’m 27 so it’s about time. I really wanted to kinda cement a sound. The singles I’ve released previously have all been kinda different sounds. I would like to have my ballad sound & like a cemented uptempo sound.” He and Anne Marie also talked about one of the other songs they wrote together saying, “It’s kind of like a, how do you describe it- guitar driven meets Tom Petty meets Katy Perry meets…” but say “We haven’t really decided if we are putting it out yet, the conversations are kinda happening... but it’s completely different (from Our Song).”

#liam payne #whyyyy so confusing #niall horan #louis tomlinson #YES BABE please do bake off now PLEASE #Harry styles #looking so good even though those shorts are AWFUL IMO hilariously frumpy #love that #14 jun 21 #overall I do not think liam should get any more dogs #but a small dog he took everywhere with him would be ADORABLE #(more dogs than he has previously owned I mean he currently has no dogs)

[watevermelon]

✧ Jealous!Atsumu x Reader; Finally returning home after traveling with the MSBY Black Jackals, Atsumu stakes his claim over you. (nsfw)

➳ A/N: TYSM!! Message received ;) ➳ Contains: jealous smut; possessive / dominant sex; semi-public; some light choking; Osamu calls during sex and Atsumu makes you answer ✧   Masterlist

-----xXxXxXxXxXx-----

“Atsumu, please.” You moaned out, “ We should go home first...”

“Don’t ya worry yer pretty little head.”

Eyes forcibly shuttered closed, you were basically begging Atsumu to stop.

The setter just continued to ignore you, his fingers settled inside you as you uttered contradictory pleas. You wanted more pressure, but you also wanted to do this at home. Your begging rotated between asking for more and attempting to persuade him to finally go to your shared apartment.

But there was one thing for sure, no matter how much the logical side of your brain screamed at you, your body was yearning for Atsumu right at this moment.

There was no doubt that your longtime lover was a near-expert when it came to your body. Any of your qualms would be easily pushed aside as you silently gave into his scandalous touches. And despite the latent fear of being caught by bystanders outside of the steamy vehicle, it was getting harder and harder to care.

The two of you had just left dinner with the rest of the old Inarizaki team. Having reunited after all these years, many of the others were catching-up over the lost time. A couple of them you had seen intermittently throughout the blank period - Suna and Aran stayed on the professional scene and you saw Osamu basically every other day.

As a professional athlete, Atsumu was always busy. Playing volleyball full-time was his dream and while he was proud to stand on the national stage, there were some drawbacks that the both of you had long conceded to. Often, he would be out traveling somewhere with the team, whether to stadiums in the far reaches of the country or dealing with PR that came with being a renowned celebrity.

You texted and called during your times apart, but there was nothing that could replace actually being there with someone. The physical affection that you missed from your lover could never be replaced with your own touches. 

But as long as Atsumu returned back to you, that was enough to fill your heart whole.

And so you often hung around your own friends and even Osamu. He often teased you were his future sister-in-law, despite nothing being set in stone and not a single rock on your finger. You would reason that Atsumu was a handsome athlete on the world stage meeting plenty of people, but even Osamu had adamantly stated that you alone were his fated future sister.

If only the asshole was as thoughtful around his brother as he was around you.

Osamu was probably trying to push Atsumu’s buttons on purpose, but now you were the unwilling collateral damage.

It started simply, about the new dress you bought in anticipation of Atsumu returning home. You ate lunch with the onigiri twin and were walking together when you passed a boutique with a simple, red dress that flirted high above your knees in the display. You thought about getting it and, with nothing to do for the rest of the day, Osamu hung out with you as you tried it on.

It was all coincidental and you thought nothing of it as Osamu brought it up at the dinner table as you were wearing it now. But when the twin complimented your sense of style, the team seemed to egg you on.

“Ya look so nice today, (L/N)!” Ginjima added.

“Out of all of us, (L/N) has always had the most style.” Suna snidely commented as he gestured to the twins with his chin.

“(L/N)-chan has always been beautiful.” Kosaku complimented, earning a small nod in agreement from Kita.

You glanced at Atsumu in the corner of your eye. And while the smile on his face spelled peace, you knew from his hardened eyes that he was not happy.

It was one thing to accept the compliments of the others, but you were admittedly openly basking in their undivided attention. If he were in a more steady head-space, Atsumu would have frowned or pouted or even took action to put the others in the place. But you hadn’t really seen each other in weeks and he was looking forward to spending individual time with you.

Of course, nothing went his way and instead of the hot night he was looking forward to, instead you ushered him out of your shared apartment to this reunion dinner. 

Osamu sat on your other side while Atsumu had to sit there and listen to the two of you chat like you were the ones dating. It was a stupid thought filled with only jealousy, but it only fostered the small pit in his stomach that seemed to grow in recent times.

Atsumu knew that the love you shared between each other was true, but it silently broke his heart every time he had to say goodbye to you knowing that the next time he would see you would be in days or maybe even weeks. You had complained a few times, but you did everything the two of you could to keep your bond. Video chats and texts were one thing, but seeing you constantly on his brother’s social media was another.

Lunches, hang-outs - what else was Atsumu missing?

And seeing the two of you openly talk about it now? Right to his face?

Atsumu wanted to claim where you sat.

And that predatory stare, that possessive claim Atsumu held over you all night as he draped an arm across the back of your chair, came to fruition the moment you two were alone. 

You waved goodbye to the rest, Osamu even shooting you a smirk at what he knew his twin was eager to do. A part of you was worried about your body for the next few hours, but when Atsumu tightly squeezed the side of your hip, you knew it would be worth it.

And so he near dragged you two where you parked earlier, you were unceremoniously tossed in the back of the car, Atsumu locking the door behind him as he clamored in. His lips were on you instantly and if not for the tinted windows, you would have pushed him off.

He ravaged you with the intensity of a man starved, sucking at your neck and making his way down your body. There was no hesitation on his end, his hands eagerly pushing your shirt and bra over your breasts. The moment you felt the chill on your skin, he latched onto an already beaded nipple.

“I’ll make sure ya only remember my name by the end of tonight.” He whispered against your skin possessively.

Atsumu maneuvered you around the back seats, pushing away clothing as your skirt bunched up around your hips. Your underwear was thrown away, somewhere on the floor of the car. There were surely red splotches in his wake, kissing at your chest before making his way further down. He dipped a playful tongue in your belly button as he went, surprising you into sitting upright. 

He lifted you by the hips, athletic strength more than enough to handle you. You had no firm grasp on the cushions, hand moving to one of the head-rests but having no way to move without having to ask the setter to do so. Atsumu held you completely in his grasp, back arched as his lips trailed down to your awaiting cunt.

“Who do you belong to?”

Atsumu watched as you squirmed uncomfortably. It was obvious you wanted more pressure, more anything, but he was conducting you to the beat of his drum today. He sucked at your clit and watched you cry-out his name in response, near begging him for more. 

There was no denying it at this point, evidence of your want all over his face. Atsumu shoved two fingers, to the knuckles, inside you. You threw your head back at the movement, but the setter made no effort to actually move inside you. He pumped once, twice, before pulling out of you entirely.

“Please.”

Atsumu playfully scoffed and you felt the vibration against your skin. You pushed your hips up in response, which only made him back off more. 

The teasing asshole.

“I asked ya a question.”

“It’s only ever been you!” You replied, almost sobbing as you looked down at Atsumu, that infamous smirk still on his face from earlier.

“Oh? Why don’t ya prove it?” Atsumu stated, placing you back down on the seat. That second of peace was followed by the setter gripping your neck and pulling you to him, not enough to make you panic, but more than enough to make you aware of the possessive hold.

Atsumu was up on his knees while you were eye level with what he was surely going to have you full with in a second.

“Do I have to do everythin’ myself?” He asked, a hint of impatience in his teasing words.

His hands were still around your throat as you reached for his belt, unclasping and then bringing down his pants. It stayed bunched around his knees and all that was left in front of you were his boxers.

“Feelin’ meek or somethin’ today?” Atsumu spit-out, “Why don’tcha put yer mouth to good use?”

He was being such an asshole and you loved every second of it.

Not that would admit it to the already big-headed setter.

You slowly peeled down the cloth, his awaiting cock springing up against his stomach as you went. Large and veiny and all yours, you admired it for a quick second before licking from the base to the tip. Atsumu groaned as his hold went from your neck to your hair, harshly carding itself in your locks.

Your playful attempts at licking his dick met an impatient scoff from the setter, until he finally gripped his dick and angled it to your mouth. While Atsumu knew your body well at this point, the second could be said about you to him. You sucked eagerly at the head, the vibration going straight to his groin as Atsumu moaned heavenward.

“Oh, playin’ dirty?” He asked, between huffs. “Yer gonna get it in a bit, don’t worry.”

A part of you was overly eager for his promise, almost making you want to act out on purpose if only to get a harder sentence later. But when Atsumu pulled at your hair again, you wanted to make him feel real good. After all, this was the first time you had his dick down your throat in weeks, you wanted to taste him fully.

You sucked at his dick eagerly, your hands going to the space your mouth had not yet reached. Slowly picking up the pace, you watched Atsumu go from a hard stare on you to getting lost in the euphoria of your greedy mouth.

And so you hollowed your cheeks, taking him in all the way to the base as his cock hit the back of your throat. You breathed in through your nose calmly, steadying your breath as you looked up at Atsumu. His eyes were fluttering to the back of his head, leaning backwards slightly as only a hand on the seat held him upright.

There was barely any room to move your tongue, but you did your best to feel against the veiny underside of the setter. His groans only got louder and louder, the grip in your hair incredibly painful as he continued to spiral under your pleasure.

It was only a slight surprise when Atsumu pushed you off. Flipping you over the seats, Atsumu leaned down to whisper against your ear, “Only ‘cause ya’ve been good so far”

You steadied one arm and leg on the cushion beneath you for you while the others stretched to the floor to keep you upright. Stomach against the car seats, you were more than ready for this moment. Atsumu wasted no time angling himself with your heat, immediately sheathing himself to the base the moment he got his bearings.

The car was filled with grotesque, wet sounds as his hips met your own. Atsumu barely gave you any time to adjust, thrusting up into you with quick, deep motions. Your own hand gripped the cushion firmly, nails almost digging into the fabric as if it would give you physical reprieve against his strong thrusts.

“Fuck.” you moaned despite yourself.

You were still in the car, plenty of opportunities for anyone to catch you two.

Not that you really cared anymore.

“Only I know what you like,” Atsumu murmured against your skin, his lips latching to the side of your neck. “Only I know how tight this pretty pussy is.”

When you didn’t respond immediately, the setter slowed down, almost taunting you that you were nothing but an eager slave for his dick. You groaned at his teasing, trying to move your hips back to him, but a steady hand on your waist kept you in place.

“Or am I wrong?” He asked against your skin, a hand trailing up your spine.

“Only you.” you groaned back, reaffirming his words.

It was not that Atsumu was not usually as dominant as this, because usually he was like this. But it usually came with some type of warning or reasoning. Last time it was from hanging around beefy boi Bokuto too much and it seemed now his twin was the new target. 

No matter, you secretly loved dominant Atsumu.

“And who’s the only one who will see ya like this?” he asked, almost with an innocent twinge as his hand snaked around the back of your neck.

“You!” You out-cried in between thrusts, head angling upward as you tried your best to get even closer to him.

“Say my name.”

“Fuck me harder, Atsumu! Please!” you whimpered, losing all your faculties.

“There’s my girl,” he praised before sucking another spot on your shoulder. 

You could almost feel the smirk of his lips on your skin.

At least you were getting what you wanted. And as Atsumu picked up back to his rigorous pace, you almost thanked the volleyball god’s for finally getting the much needed friction. The sounds of wet slapping and parallel groans promulgated the car, pedestrians outside innocent to the steamy happenings in Atsumu’s car.

“Fuck!” you screamed.

“That’s it.” Atsumu teased, “Let it out, princess.”

His pace was fast and hard, uncaring of the world around you as Atsumu lost himself in your tight hole. From him to be this brutal, you wondered if Atsumu had been envisioning you like this the entire meal. And now you were going to know exactly how much Atsumu had yearned for you. 

His fingers curled tightly around your hips, bringing you back to meet his every thrust. There was barely anything you could do against his onslaught, gripping the seats around you as if to give you any physical reprieve.

Your brain was focused on nothing but Atsumu, not even realizing that there was suddenly another sound in the car. The heat of the euphoria covered over the sounds of something vibrating somewhere in the car hadn’t even registered in your brain. 

But you surely did not miss the fact that one of Atsumu’s bruising hands had left your hips. And instead, that free hand began to feel around on the floor for the lost item.

“Ay.” Atsumu greeted into his phone, “Somethin’ wrong, ‘Samu?”

You shot a look over your shoulder, confused and wondering why on god’s earth was he saying his twin’s name at this moment. It was only when you saw his phone that you blanched, instantly trying to pull away from the setter. But Atsumu had you pinned, not stopping in his pace as he continued on the phone.

“Ah, (F/N) forgot ‘er phone?” You wanted to wipe the smirk off the setters face, but your hands were occupied in either keeping you help up or covering your mouth from letting out a peep. 

This was Osamu of all people! You saw him on a daily basis and if you were caught on the phone for this you would hardly be able to look him in the eye anymore.

Atsumu took one look at your desperate face and decided to make the most of it.

“Lemme put ‘er on the phone for ya.”

The look of realization must have been obvious on your face, for Atsumu’s smirk only grew as he stared back into your eyes.

Atsumu picked up the hand that was holding you upright on the seat and instead put the phone there. You tried to make a fist instead, a silent warning for if he continued this stupid act, but the setter just ground his hips against yours. You stumbled over a moan and Atsumu shot you a conspiratory look, pressing a finger to his lips to signal you to be quiet. 

“Hey, Osamu?” You attempted to greet in your usually cheerful tone.

“Hey, (F/N).” His voice sounded through the receiver, making you realize that this was well and truly happening.

“I forgot something at the restaurant?” You asked straight to the point, trying to keep your voice even as Atsumu kissed down the valley of your spine. His pace was still slow, but his small caresses were keeping you actively aware.

“Yea, I have yer phone with me since ya left early.” Osamu stated, his voice casual as you heard his loud dishwasher in the background, signalling he was already home.

“Ah, thank you! I can pick-it up next time I see YOU!” You stuttered over the last word, Atsumu pulling out completely just to fill you to the brim in one thrust.

Atsumu’s quick thrusting resumed from earlier and there was little you could do to hold in a small moan this time. Thankfully, Osamu on the other end had yet to catch onto what was truly happening, since he was recounting your next lunch a couple days from now.

“Is that safe? Goin’ a few days without yer phone?” Osamu asked.

“I - maybe?” you panted in response, not even sure what the question was.

Osamu paused, silence reining for a few seconds, enough to make you panic that he had caught on before he asked. “Ya know both ‘Tsumu and I would kill for ya if somethin’ happened cause ya didn’t have yer phone. Let’s try to stop that from happenin’ before.”

Was what he did say and also what you did not hear.

Instead, you felt your hips rocking back to meet Atsumu as he continued thrusting upward into you. One of his hands around your waist followed the arm holding the phone, pushing it back up to your ear as if to remind you of the painful phone call you were on. His other hand went around your waist, traveling to your clit between and rolling it between his fingers. 

This time, there was little you could do to muffle your surprised gasp.

“Whatever, (F/N). I know you can defend yourself, but this is not somethin’ you should fight.”

That wording was odd, you thought in your mind briefly. But any additional thoughts were slammed away with Atsumu’s persistent thrusts.

“I know,” you settled on replying back between pants before stuffing your face back into the car seat.

You expect some type of response back, only continuing to push against Atsumu as the hard slap of skin filled the car. You hadn’t even realized how long Osamu was silent for, before his voice nearly pierced your skin.

“Don’t tell me yer getting dicked down right now.”

Your head shot up immediately, your grasp on the phone tightening as both you and Atsumu heard Osamu hit the nail right on the head with his observation.

There was already an excuse on the tip of your tongue when Atsumu pulled out entirely again before sheathing himself in your dripping cunt. You moaned loudly at the combination of being filled and what his fingers were doing to your lower pearl. There was nothing you could say to get you out of that one.

To your surprise, Atsumu grabbed the phone this time. “Listenin’ to that? She’s mine on every fuckin’ level.”

You heard Osamu laugh through the receiver, before he continued talking. What it was about? You had no fucking clue, the sound just a small murmur in comparison to the sounds of your bodies meeting.

“I hate you so much,” You moaned back, Atsumu still on the phone with his twin.

“Oh? Are you going to cum?” He teased you before turning to the phone, “Ight, talk to ya later.”

How the fuck the both of them could be so casual about this, you didn’t want to know.

Throwing the phone somewhere else on the floor, Atsumu lifted your knee and brought it up to his shoulder. You had very little control in this situation, grasping onto cushions simply to keep from falling. But Atsumu had full control, maintaining his almost impossible rhythm in this deeper position.

“Ahhh, stop.” You weakly protested, “Atsumu, you’re gonna make me…”

“I know exactly what’s going to happen,” he countered.

The speed of his fucking, coupled with the relentless toying of your clit, pushed you over the edge. You came with a near-scream, angling your back as your eyes rolled heavenward. Near simultaneously, you felt Atsumu unload himself within you, holding his hips against yours to make sure you received every single drop.

It was only when your shared essence dripped down to the seat that you realized you hadn’t used a condom. And while you would had usually sighed at the clean-up, especially in a public space like this, Atsumu was already at your back, kissing along your spine.

“Thanks for the creampie, asshole.” you groaned, dropping your head onto the car seat.

“Ya know ya love it, princess.” Atsumu countered, leaning over you as he flipped you onto your back, placing light kisses against the nape of your neck. 

You pushed his face away when you fully realized what just happened, “Fuck, Osamu really heard that.”

“Good, now he knows who you belonged to.” Atsumu stated with a level-expression.

“Everyone knows I’m yours, you asshole.”

“It’s still good to send out reminders.” Atsumu replied, “Especially with the way everyone was openly leering at you today.”

“Fuck, you planned to do this, didn’t you?” you asked, not remembering the last time you ever lost your phone. You swore it was in your bag before you left, even taking a selfie with the old crew before.

But Atsumu just smirked and continued to place butterfly kisses on your skin, not dignifying your question with an actual verbal response was enough of an answer.

“Yer beautiful tits, yer legs… these pouty lips.” Atsumu murmured against your skin between pecks, “All mine. Right?”

Something in his voice just screamed at you that he wanted a real answer. His brown eyes bore into your own, an oddly serious expression for having teased you the pats half-hour. Was he jealous of Osamu? Of how much time you spent together? That was nonsense, he was going to be your future family and your heart only beat for Atsumu.

“I’m all yours.” You answered, putting a hand beneath his chin and lifting it to you. He met you halfway, pulling you into another bruising kiss. 

One of his hands went back around your waist to pull you close to him, your skin felt lighting aflame for the second time as it touched. You felt Atsumu harden within you again, athletic stamina already preparing him for another round it seemed.

“I love you, Atsumu.”

“I love you, too.”

✧   Masterlist

#atsumu smut #atsumu lemon #jealous atsumu #msby black jackal #msby bj #msby black jackals #haikyuu msby #timeskip atsumu #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #hq atsumu #atsumu x yn #atsumu headcanons #atsumu imagines #atsumu imagine #atsumu x you #atsumu miya x you #atsumu hcs #atsumu #atsumu fluff #atsumu angst #osamu miya #inarizaki #shinsuke kita #aran ojiro #osamu starting shit tbh lmao #miya twins

[defdreamz]

WAIST | CHOI YOUNGJAE

summary: youngjae’s your sugar baby, and he loves toying with you. this is what he was wearing.

cw: sub!youngjae, dom!gn!reader, sugar baby!youngjae, ceo!reader, afab!reader, feelings (minor), use of toys, idol au, youngjae is a soloist, degrading, cross dressing, possessiveness (minor), and more.

tagging: @sub-hoshi-enthusiast, @silencefavarchive, @maknaeronix, @sunpopp, @maybe-i-do-write, @dabisdiary, @nct99

note: my GOSH this took entirely too long 😭 this was mostly self indulgent tbh. also!! two things rq 1) do i stop writing for jackson momentarily? 2) i don’t think i’m gonna continue to write for skz as i don’t stan them anymore and i won’t feel comfortable writing for a group i don’t even stan, so i’ll fill in their last spots with a few ateez drabbles-

watching the way youngjae move his hips on stage does something to you. the way the sway with every beat, following along to one of his songs, that, admittedly, you haven’t been paying much attention to. how could you when he moved like that on the stage? you were more focused on the harness that crossed over his waist, and how his piercing eyes follow the camera.

you sit back in your office chair, smirk settling on your face as you gnawed on your lip. you pause the video, sitting your phone on your desk. “oh how i can’t wait to see you later, pet.” you mutter to yourself, crossing your legs as countless possibilities of what could go on later running through your mind.

( - )

your head is down at your desk while you work, hand holding your hand up while you go through a few documents. your door opens and closes, and you assume it’s your assistant again, coming in with more documents for you to sign.

“more papers? sit them down in the c- oh.” you mutter, dropping your pen upon noticing that the person who entered wasn’t your assistant. you lean back, clasping your fingers over your abdomen. “youngjae. pleasure to see you here,” you say, grinning with an underlying twinge of a sultry tone.

he takes his mask off, hidden smile finally being revealed. he hums in response to your greeting, settling to walk around your desk. he pushes the papers aside, knowing you don’t mind, especially in instances like these. he takes his seat, tan-colored robe falling over his thighs.

he runs a hand through his hair, spreading his legs as you slide between them. “i saw your performance today, baby. it was great.” you tell him, resting your hands on his hips, sliding under the fabric of his robe and feeling the bare skin. “although.” you begin, changing your touch on his hips from gentle to firm, gripping the supple skin underneath your hands. he whines, resting his own hands on top of yours.

“i didn’t like how you were showing everything that belongs to me,” you say, loosening your grip. “but you don’t own me,” he utters, faking a pout. “i will soon, prince.” you hum, pulling him closer to you. he falls into your lap, arms wrapping around your neck. he kisses you first, melting into your grasp, rolling his hips against you.

you pull away first, chuckling lightly when he pouts and tries to follow your lips. “eager, aren’t we?” you ask, untying the knot on on his robe and letting it fall to the floor. your eyes scale his body, looking at the leather harness that crossed his body and accentuated his physique.

“like what you see?” he teases, pulling your hand toward his chest to thumb at the accents of the leather. “you wore this all for me? your pretty body all on display.” you smirk, ignoring his initial question and instead moving your hand up from his chest to his neck, pressing your fingers to the heart shaped choker.

you can feel his hard-on pressing against the inside of your clothed thigh. “you’re wearing too much,” he whines, pawing at your blazer and pushing it off your shoulders, exposing your button down. he goes for the buttons, nimble fingers pushing them apart while your own hands roam his body.

you lift up, taking your jacket and shirt off and discarding it on the floor, making him stand up while you undid your belt and discarded your pants. you eye him, and he he grins at you, following your silent command and turning around to bend over the desk, making sure to push his ass out toward you.

“was this a surprise for me, too?” you ask, tapping the base of the plug that was nestled between his cheeks. he whines at the sudden feeling of the bejeweled plug jostling within him. “i knew you’d like it.” he breathes, pushing the air from between his lips shakily.

“you’re ready for me to fuck you, prince? want me to hurry up and make you feel good so you can ruin your pretty little lingerie?” you drawl, rubbing the pads of your thumbs over the soft skin of his ass. “yes, gosh yes, please,” he strains, pushing back to grind against you.

“too bad, prince, really. i’m going to take my time, and take you apart, make you moan and writhe... and maybe, just maybe, i’ll let you cum... if you’re lucky.” you sighed, pulling at the straps of leather lining his thighs.

you open a drawer, pulling out a few items. you attach your own harnesses to your thighs. you tap at the base of the plug, giving a slight warning before pulling the base, and slipping it out.

he shivers, clenching around nothing at the loss. you quickly replace it with the tip of your strap, though, causing his eyes to widen.

you tease him, pressing it in only slightly and pulling it back out. youngjae is so needy, already beginning whimper and gasp, and you haven’t even begun. “please,” he begged, hands clasping and scratching at the desk.

“you’re so needy. for someone who was just flaunting their body on stage for everyone else to see not even twelve hours ago, you turn into a pliant, needy, slutty little mess under me in mere minutes. it’s pathetic really.” you utter, and he groans, cheeks reddening at your observation.

“maybe i should give you what you want...” you toy, pushing your hips farther, pushing into the smaller male under you. his mouth falls open, arms stilling where they grip the edge of the desk.

you repeat the motion, easing in and out of him slowly, hands guiding his hips back onto your strap. you can see, even from where you are, that his eyes are wet with tears that haven’t fallen. quiet curses and whispers fall from his pretty plush lips with every push, and you resist the urge to completely ravish him.

he moans out suddenly, thighs twitching as he tenses. “oh fuck,” he rasps. “oh? was that your spot, baby?” you ask, intentionally pushing deeper and pressing onto the spot with the tip of the strap. “oh my god, y-yes, please,” he moans, rolling his hips along yours to press deeper into that spot, and grind his cock into your desk.

“i bet your pathetic little cock is leaking all over my desk, isn’t it? ready for my demand to cum. am i right, youngjae?” you ask, tugging once on the collar around his neck. “you- you’re r-right,” he stutters, gasping as the feeling of you pressing into him is almost too much.

“remember, baby, there’s still people in this building... unless you’d like for someone to walk in and see me using you like this. maybe they wouldn’t even acknowledge you, because they know that you’re mine to use, mine to fuck... mine to ruin,” you commented, voice sultry as you finally pick up your pace, fucking into him with vigorous movement, and he’s nothing but a pleading and whining mess under you now.

you lean down, draping yourself over him and holding yourself by placing the palms of your hands beside his head. the sound of your hips smacking with his ass fills the room. “you’re close, aren’t you, youngjae? ready to make a mess your pretty little lingerie and my desk like a cheap whore? go ahead, prince. go ahead and cum for me,” you whisper, thrusting deeply into the male.

he follows your command well, eyes rolling as his body trembled and he made a mess of your desk. you gradually slow down, deciding the boy had enough for the day. you pull out of him, ridding yourself of the strap and sitting it aside while you tend to youngjae. you grab a few wipes from another drawer, gently wiping him down and making sure not to cause him too much oversensitivity. you whisper praises and encouragement into his ears, taking off the elaborate lingerie.

you cover him in your shirt, instead pulling an extra one out for yourself. he sits in your lap, head tucked into your neck. your hands are rubbing up and down his arms, softly lulling him to relax.

“i wouldn’t mind, you know.” he whispers gently, arms wrapped around you. you hum in question, urging him to continue. “i wouldn’t mind if you owned me... if we could be together for real instead of the ‘arrangement’.” he said, nuzzling deeper into your hold and making himself smaller.

“i wouldn’t mind it either, youngjae. but for now, get some sleep. we can talk about everything else later, okay? rest well, jae.” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair. he nods off, breathing slow as he takes his rest snuggled into your lap.

#dom!reader #sub!got7 #sub!youngjae #sub!choi youngjae #got7 #got7 smut #sub!got7 smut #youngjae smut #choi youngjae smut #dom!afab!reader #got7 youngjae #got7 choi youngjae #got7 youngjae smut #got7 x reader smut #got7 x reader #youngjae x reader smut #choi youngjae x reader smut

[orangesuitlove]

My Light Side - Ep.5 - The Meeting.

LEA

Hours before the gala, they brought each of us together with our stylist one by one and made a selection of outfits for the magazine in front of the camera lights.

On top of that, we had a stage show.

It all happened so fast that it really upset me that Penelope had to spend two nights without sleep working on the songs. That's why he couldn't go to school.

I thought the two-song mix we did would be really appreciated.

Yes, we have grown. We came out as a good teen group and we had a nice audience. I'm sure those who have followed us since our youtube videos are proud.

I was just thinking that I haven't contacted any big names yet. I knew a few big names had started following me on Instagram. However, I never wrote to them as I was afraid to text them.

I smiled when Rachael came up to me with her hair done up. They wore a V-neck sleeveless top. It was a fabric that completely covered the upper part and was covered with stones. It sparkled. Although all the buttons on her collar were open, her decollete was not visible. I was wearing a black crop top with thick straps and a pleated skirt with white stripes, which was also chosen as my usual color.

They had chosen the right outfit for her. She sat next to me and looked in the mirror. "My arm muscles look gross."

"Don't, Rachel. It is quite natural for an artist who beats the drums for hours to develop arm muscles.''

''Artist. I love this.''

Then she started stamping her feet. Tap.. tap.. "Is it normal for me to be a little too excited?"

I shook my head. ''No way. Because right now I am filled with fear and excitement."

Her eyes were smiling as she smiled. I loved Rachel's smile. "Well, what did they dress Melody in?"

I thought a little. "I'm assuming you'll have Capri in your outfit." she laughed when I said. "It will definitely be a capri!"

I took her arm and rested my head on her shoulder. In fact, if Suzy saw this move of mine, she'd instantly try to hold back, worrying that my blow dry would spoil. But I don't care.

For a while I thought we were reassuring each other in silence. So we stayed. Finally, Rachel said, "Do you think if we don't screw up today, we're going to start hanging out with famous people?"

"Most likely," I commented.

"Honestly, it would be nice to talk to cool drummers." she said, raising her arms. "I want to know people who can race these."

'You are crazy'

And for a very long time we just laughed.

Along with our fear and excitement.

-2 hours later-

When we went backstage after the stage performance, we encountered many people patting our backs in the crowd. We got a big round of applause and the ratings were pretty high during our stage.

Rebecca's drum kit was rolled up and carried on a rack-like roller stand. I was walking next to him. And a very different crowd from the crowd we were in was advancing towards us in front of us.

"Next show is ours guys! Get Michael's guitar ready for set."

"How are the drums?"

''Hurry up! Last 28 minutes!"

I saw the staf team hastily carrying their musical instruments upwards.

Which group was it? I couldn't remember all the names that will be performing today. How many bands were there playing musical instruments and participating in mtv?

I was excited. We could speak the same language with people from the same genre. I continued to watch the musical instruments.

'Hello.'

When I turned in that direction with the voice behind me, I saw a man standing in front of me with black curly hair and a black bass guitar.

'It was a good performance.' After saying that, he smiled.

I knew this man.

But I realized I forgot his name. Damn.

'Well, thank you. I could say. I still had my guitar around my neck and I involuntarily started touching it. I avoided eye contact.

'I'm Calum.' He said and that made me turn to him again. His black eyes were soft and he was looking at me with pride.

'Lea.' I said and smiled. 'I'm a little nervous and tired, sorry.' When I said that, he shook his head.

'Being new is hard, I know. But you looked very professional. I can say that especially your soloist was the star of the stage.' Then he added. 'I am confident that your success will continue.'

I nodded. 'Thank you again. And I'll be there to watch you.'

He chuckled and looked around. 'This is what might make me nervous. I hope you like it, Lea.' Then he began to stare at the stage. 'After this show, ours will begin. I have to go.'

'Goodbye Calum.' He was ready to go when I said, but he paused and turned to me. 'I will follow you.'

'Pardon?' When I said that, he quickly took out his phone and went on his Instagram. He opened the dial pad and handed me his phone. 'You have to say your username.'

I was surprised but happy. I took the phone and gave him what he wanted. 'Ok.'

He stared at the screen of his phone for a few seconds, nodded with a smile, and left.

Calum...

Then the songs and clips that came to my mind were enough for me to remember who he was.

After a while, a blond boy with a long shirt and a guitar passed me by. The boy, who stood much taller than me, started running straight to the stage without paying attention for a second. Then, from another corridor, a curly man, who was talking to a girl next to him, started to come, who was skinner than the others. He looked quite mature and cool tho.

Also, he was holding a drumstick in one hand and turning it between his fingers while looking at the piece of paper in the girl's hand.

"Ashton Irwin," Rebecca said, coming behind me and looking at the man I was watching. "Drummer of 5SOS." When I turned to him, he turned his blue eyes towards me. "I really like his style." Then she turned her head back to Ashton. Ashton, who I realized was over talking to the girl, smiled when he saw us looking at him and raised his hand. "You were so good girls!" Then he pointed his finger at Rebecca. ''Especially you. I don't know how to beat your show! I'll probably have to throw one of my drumsticks to Mike after the show."Rebecca nodded without breaking her smile. "I would love to see this.""Then let the show begin!" and he began to get ready, allowing the girl to put on her headphones.5SOS.I had just met a group that hung out similarly to us, and realized that there was an enemy we had to cross.

Oh my god.

The whole story : https://www.wattpad.com/1212430020-my-light-side-calum-hood-ep-5-the-meeting

#calum hood #calum 5sos #calum fic #ashton irwin #michael clifford #luke hemmings #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sosfam #5sos smut #ashton 5 sos #ashton 5sos #5 seconds of summer

[yn-x-animeboy]

Jungkook x y/n (as a famous artist) Pt.4

pairing: reader x Jungkook

genre: fluff, romance, for entertainment purposes

BTS x Fem Reader

synopsis: You are a popular artist in America, pretty famous, loved and well-known by the general public (actually you were one of the top 10 artists in the world but you are pretty humble and naïve to realize your popularity), one day during one of your fan meets you talk about how much you love BTS, and not only how you wish to meet them and work with them but how Jungkook is one of your celebrity crushes. During the meet you fangirled with other ARMYs in the crowd; video clips of you fangirling and talking about BTS at your meet where posted and reposted all over social media. This obviously broke the internet because you were not only a famous singer but you also were always accepted and loved by ARMY and this made a lot of people happy. Suddenly it felt like everyone wanted you to meet the seven handsome and talented idols and collaborate, but you could only wish, you believed they didn't even know who you were...or so you thought

Parts: 1 here, 2 here, 3 here 

---- 

Part 4 - Hotel? Trivago.

you started to sing and suddenly you heard a voice behind you singing with you, and you couldn’t even turn around to prove you were not mistaken, you knew that voice too well, the live audience was losing it, the crew looked excited, you went numb, you looked back and it seemed like a joke, a complete dream…..

The seven guys were coming out from behind the curtain, being led by Jungkook, he was singing the bridge of the song, mic in hand and just looking at you. Your knees gave out and you curled on your knees as you cried on your knees, ‘there is no way’, you could even begin to process what was going on, The boys were a little shy and stayed behind you as Jimmy lifted you from the floor and made you look at them. 

Once you could stand up/being held up by Jimmy, RM was the first to approach you, they all introduced themselves and after they bowed their heads out of respect and you did the same, you looked at them in awe. Then they greeted Jimmy too. Jungkook signaled you to keep singing the last part of the song and as a professional singer you did. You picked up your singing almost at the end of the song: “kkumeul geonneoseo supul neometro, seonmyeonghaejineun geu goseuro ga” holding the mic with to hands trying to hide your shaking hands Jungkook standing next to you to the left and the guys with Jimmy around the both of you; you lifted one hand from the mic and showed it to the closest people to your right which were Jimin, V and Jimmy; and just as you put it up to show how shaky it was Jungkook took your hand as he sang: “Take my hands now, You are the cause of my euphoria.” You really looked at him for the first time ever, you had never seen him in person before…. Your eyes met each other for a split second.

The guys, Jimmy, the crew, the audience, everyone cheered and squealed at this little interaction; you both blushed and dropped each other's hands. You turned back to hide your face covering your mouth as you got teary eyes. The guys near Jungkook hit him and teased him due to his ‘out of the blue’ confidence. He was normally more shy when it came to interactions with strangers, especially if it was with women. But even Jungkook seemed surprised at himself; he blushed too, but kept going. You both finished the song, harmonizing perfectly, facing each other, but avoiding his eyes, you felt so vulnerable looking at his eyes.

They all applauded once you finished and they cut to a commercial break. The guys were taken by crew members to get mic'd up, and Meg once again for the third time tonight fixed your appearance. They went back from break and sat on the couch next to Jimmy, they made a space for you in the middle of the guys, and you took a seat with trembling limbs as the ‘back from commercials’ music played and the audience cheered.

On the main couch sat RM nearest to the desk, then you to his right, Jungkook next to you and Suga on the end of the medium couch; behind you V, Jimin J-Hope and Jin sat on higher chairs all facing the front. Jimmy spoke “so I heard you introduced yourselves o y/n in english with the help of RM, but she can actually speak Korean. Y/n why don’t you introduce yourself?” They all turned to you from all angles; “Oh i'm so sorry; RM was so kind to translate when they introduced themselves, I didn't want to seem rude by interrupting him, but sure um-” you switched to korean and looked around you to the boys “Hello, my name is y/n, I am so pleased to meet you all, it's a dream come true, please take good care of me” The guys immediately made small comments at your cute Korean accent, “aww so cute” “wow you are good” “cute” even though a Korean person could probably tell Korean was was not your first language due to the accent difference, you where really good at it. 

“So I wanted to ask the guys a couple of questions too, thank you guys for coming, it's always a pleasure to have you all.” Jimmy said, after this he introduced them to the audience and gave them a proper introduction. Jimmy proceeded to catch up with the guys, asking them questions too; you helped RM translate too, which made the interview run smoother, you were making the guys laugh with your small contributions (by adding comments or opinions in Korean). During this time Jungkook and you were sitting so close to each other, you could see eachother out of the corners of your eyes, you were each other's celebrity crushes after all.

After a while you started loosening up and getting more comfortable; this was part of your personality, you were known to be a social butterfly, so even though this was a dream come true and you couldn’t stop crying like 15 mins ago; your body knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and that there is no time to be all shy and quiet. You got looser, bolder, and more confident, actually showing your real personality, the personality the boys knew you like from your videos and social media. (and the personality that made Jungkook so drawn to you in the first place.) Your change in personality even made the boys less stiff and more relaxed too.

After the catch up with the guys you all stood up to play another one of Jimmy’s famous show games/challenges/activities. “So now that you all are more comfortable with each other let’s play a game, this game is called ‘Guess The Jam’, Basically we will play a song and like earlier you have to dance to it; the difference this time is that the dancer will be wearing headphones and others have to guess the song they are dancing too by just judging the dance moves. 

Y/N will be dancing to BTS songs and BTS is going to dance to y/n songs, yes?” You were now standing WITH them instead of next to them/distant from them, you all seemed like you bonded. “yes” “Let’s GO!” “I got it”.

Again the game was a success you danced to multiple songs and they all guessed their title by your dancing to all of the songs that had been assigned to you; and you were so impressed at the seven grown a*s men, dancing perfectly to random songs of yours, you guessed most of them, but you got distracted at times form the hilarious scene in front of you. *J-Hope trting really hard to coordinate everyone in seconds to make the dance clear, they eventually would give up and dance their hearts out*, leaving you with no other choice but to TRY and guess what the hell they were dancing to. 

At some point the maknae line (V/Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook) made you dance with them to some of the songs (IDOL, Boy with luv, Burning up, etc) while the hyungs cheered you guys on, and also while J-Hope recorded you four like you were his children dancing at a school show. 

You all took a break after the dance segment and went to freshen up while Jimmy did another sponsorship. You changed back to your Fancy outfit and Meg AGAIN, for the millionth time tonight fixed your image, your team/crew would hype up and get all supportive since BTS arrived, telling you you were doing great, and how this was your dream come true, etc. You thanked your manager too, every time you briefly saw him during the ‘touch up moment’, then you went back to the studio couch with the boys in the same order you were sitting before.

You didn't notice but Jungkook looked at you in awe as you came out with a different outfit, the guys had been watching the whole show up to the point where they surprised you backstage, meaning he had seen the outfit before, but the view in person was different; he proved his hypothesis to be right...you truly lighted up a room the minute you walked in it. He composed himself, he was being shy and quiet while you were showing a more inviting and relaxed vibe. (Pfft he had no idea you were still shi*ting your pants hahaha).

“So  y/n and I talked about this earlier; she is going to be performing tomorrow for the Billboard awards, and I hear that you guys will also be performing. Is that true? RM was about to translate to the guys and then answer Jimmy, but you handled it and translated Jimmy’s question to the guys for him, letting him answer comfortably; sometimes he could have a hard time during interviews in english because he had to constantly translate for the guys; this little gesture meant so much to him. “Yeah, we too are going to be performing tomorrow, we are really excited and thankful for the opportunity, and we are also excited to watch the whole award show too,” RM said. They were also nominated and were going to watch the show, you got a little excited your were going to see them again tomorrow, even if you knew you probably were only going to be able to see them on stage due to how hard it was actually to ‘hang out’ with other celebrities on award shows due to the different schedules and hectic environment. Nevertheless you were trying to enjoy your little burst of confidence and take in every moment right now with the guys; you knew your friendship would probably last only for today. (a/n oHhH muahahah u thought y/n)

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The Jimmy Fallon Show was a complete success, the plan worked, your team and BTS’s team with the help of Jimmy were able to surprise you guys; the timing worked because you were both in the same place due to the billboard awards and your performances.

After the show you even hung out a little with them before you all had to go. The chemistry between you and the guys was unbelievable, it seemed like you guys had been close friends all this time. 

RM and you bonded over speaking english, even teasing others by speaking english and not translating back for them; Suga and you had bonded over producing music, you both talked about how the process is for the both of you, and he even said he would love to work with someone like you (even though he was normally a more chill, cold person to strangers, he immediately felt comfortable to show you his warmer side, that’s your charm); J-Hope and you bonded over dance, you both ‘fangirled’ about each others’ skills, you too both agreed that working with each other in the future would be so cool; Jin and you seemed like siblings I swear, he too is normally more shy when it comes to one-on-one interactions with strangers but due to your boldness, you immediately bonded by teasing each other, he would also try and make you cringe with cheesy Korean dad jokes, but you always had another cringier joke to fight back with; Let’s just say you passed Taehyung’s vibe check, he really likes your personality and you met all his expectations of you, he was not disappointed, out of all of the guys you had the quickest bond with him, he now even has a nickname for you and you too also start to call him ‘Tae Tae’ after just a couple hours of meeting; Jimin struggled a little at first to approach you, he was really fangirling over you once the cameras were cut, but you approached him and made him feel comfortable, he then immediately loosened up and bonded over your similar personalities, it was like hanging out with a literal different version of yourself, you even already had inside jokes with him too; and Jungkook…. oh Jungkook, you guys seemed to fit so well, in the little time you both hung out you were making each other cry laugh, you had small conversations about music, dance, about your cultural differences, he even said that if you ever went to Korea, he would like to show you around his favorite places, but every time you guys would chat with each other or literally by just existing next to each other, the guys would act weird and either make small comments and noises to tease you, or try and give you space in the small dressing room by standing up from the couch and dashing to the corner of the room (again imagine six grown men huddled in the corner trying to act ‘natural’ when Jungkook only handed you a bottle of water that was brought in by a crew member).

It was crazy how quick you all created this friendship, the guys had already talked amongst themselves and agreed that no matter what, they would really care for this friendship and that they would do everything in their power to keep you in their lives (Suga said that he was down to kidnap you from america and take you to South Korea in case you all became distant). 

You were currently sitting in their dressing room chatting, basically getting to know them and them getting to know you (y'all were having some deep conversations) you also learned you were staying in the same hotel and that the next day you all had rehearsals at the same time for your performances, you compared your schedules and  they seemed to match up for the most part. In conclusion you were staying at the same hotel, had rehearsals at 8:00 am in the same location the next day, and you guys wanted to hang out a little more.

Your managers came in to tell you that the cars were ready to take you to the hotel, you got a little sad you had to leave them for the ride back, but their manager said “Oh, y/n, you get to choose who you want to travel back with, we canceled your car so that you could drive back with the boys” you smiled from ear to ear and quickly introduced yourself to the bilingual man in charge of managing the guys behind you who were currently fighting over who you got to ride back to the hotel with. 

-------

Due to the fact that no one wanted to be left out riding back without you, you where currently eight adults...packed tightly into a small van on the back seats. Both of your teams/staffs watched as you all tried to get in the van, like children (screaming, pushing, laughing) they didnt know if they should find this cute/funny or drag you all into separate vans once and for all. 

“Dude I can feel your fuc*ing hair IN MY NOSE, move” Suga spoke, “Whose hand is that, ey they getting friendly” Tae said, as a joke you said “That’s my hand, my bad” making everyone laugh. “Jimin you know, you are not so light weighted, I need blood circulation” Jin commented, “Oy aren't you sitting too close to y/n kookie? If something happens I’m taking y/n’s side.” You all laughed, it was true tho, you were basically on top of Jungkook but weren't you all ‘TOO CLOSE’ to each other? I mean- 3 seats for 8 adults? It definitely defied the laws of physics but it worked out. 

The ten minute ride to the hotel was interesting; the first 5 minutes were silent, after 2 minutes you asked for the radio, but it was broken, after 2 more minutes you could faintly hear Jin’s moaning out in pain as he was being suffocated; due to the weird sounds he was making, the context and your ‘dirty minded heads’ you and JK burst out laughing, making the others infected with your laughter, this until you arrived.

Once you were at the hotel, your teams made you stand like disobedient children in a line ‘soldier style’ while they arranged the room situations. (you had stayed at a different hotel in the afternoon due to its closeness to the Jimmy fallon set and due to the fact you only used it to nap and shower, but this hotel was closer to where the billboard awards where and to where your rehearsals were so this was your temporary home for now, aslo your team had to rent a lot of rooms for the 20 or so people traveling with you. BTS had to do the same) 

While the keys were being activated one of the BTS staff members started to ask the guys for their room service orders, so the kitchen could start making them; your manager’s assistant also took your order and while you were busy choosing your dinner, the maknae line had an idea...

Once you finished ordering Tae and Jungkook interlocked their arms with yours tightly and Jimin spoke to staff: “Excuse me could you please be so kind to send all of our meals to Jin’s room, (turning to YOUR staff he again spoke in broken english) y/n would also like her dinner to be sent to Jin’s room, than you all, gudnait”, 

While Jungkook and V dragged you, Jimin bowed to the staff and followed you. Suga was cry-laughing at your cruising while being dragged away, he lifted one of your dragging legs up and RM followed him, lifting the other leg. J-hope started recording the whole ordeal. Jin was following them as he suddenly realized... “Oi why does it always have to be my room? I always end up smelling like steak '' he kept following anyway. 

Your manager speeded up and walked next to your now lifted body and told you to have fun and to go to your room early to be responsible and not stay up so late for tomorrow’s early rehearsals (cute scene: without putting you down the boys stopped and lowered you a little so that you could say good night to Sam and he could kiss your forehead, they they lifted you back up)  

You arrived at Jin's assigned hotel room and the guys comfortably all spread around the room; you walked in a little shy because you had never hung out  like this with anyone, plus you didn't know what to do…. Jin was the last one to walk in and he put his arm around you encouraging you to walk in with him, he even pushed Jimin off the bed so you could sit there and he took the desk chair while you all waited for the food. You all had dinner in Jin’s room, sitting on the floor and drinking wine (Jin and Jimin insisted on having alcohol) you were having so much fun. After dinner you all kept drinking while playing drinking games with the tiny alcohol bottles hotels provide.

It was really really REALLY past your bedtimes; just analize with me: if the Jimmy Fallon show ended at 12:00am and you  guys got to the hotel at around 12:30, you had dinner, played games, drank, etc.; imagine what time it is currently…. 

You all were at least little tipsy by now, RM spoke to everyone: “Guys-ss we should probably go back to our rooms, wE hAve to be aWake and readY to gOooooo. for tomorrow..” even though he was all sloppy and slow form the alcohol he was still following his ‘leader’ role. Everyone drunkenly cleaned up Jin's room and stood up to leave to head to your rooms. Out of everyone in here, you and Jungkook were the least drunk; not because you drank less, but apparently you both were better at handling alcohol than the others.

JK offered to walk you to your room because even if you weren't super drunk you were still a little sloppy (which he was too) and your team had rented the floor under so he didn’t want to leave you alone to find your way (you found this so cute, no one had ever treated you like this, he was a true gentleman). 

Obviously the guys teased when you both walked together in the same direction, you just kept walking, making small talk. Once the elevator arrived on your floor you thought JK would ride the elevator back, but he insisted on making sure you were safe inside your room before he left. You walked through the hall, heels in your right hand and Jungkook walking to your left. You suddenly passed by a clear door that showed outside to a terrazze (basically used for smokers, but other people could use it too) and not thinking it through you took JK’s hand and walked outside.

It was a warm night and the terrazze was pretty dark-ish and small, but the view was beautiful; the night sky contrasting the bright lights form the buildings’ skyline. You looked at the view, mesmerized by it, Jungkook could only look at you, he thought you looked too beautiful and as you tightly held on to the railing looking out wide eyed at the pretty lights. 

You turned to him and realized he was looking at you, you analyzed his face thinking: ‘waw he is the most handsome man I have ever seen’ as you looked into his eyes, even through your tipsy state you realized >OMG I'M STANDING OUT HERE WITH JUNGKOOK, THE. JUNGKOOK., FUC*K, I PROBABLY LOOK LIKE SHIT DAMMIT, WAIT THIS IS MY CELEBRITY CRUSH, WHAT DO I DO 

You seemed to be getting physically closer and closer to eachother, he was looking down at you in such an adoring way, but in his head he was also thinking…> OMG I'M STANDING OUT HERE WITH Y/N, THE. Y/N., FUC*K, I PROBABLY LOOK LIKE SHIT DAMMIT, WAIT THIS IS MY CELEBRITY CRUSH, WHAT DO I DO , but even though you were BOTH freaking out, the two of you knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, having someone so special to you, like this, in front of you…

You were now standing inches away from each other's faces, “hi…” you said, almost whispering as you smiled sweetly at him, looking from his eyes to his lips.

“Hi” Jungkook said in a raspy almost sleepy tone, smiling with his teeth and suddenly dropping his smile back down as he followed your eyes; he wanted to close the space between you two, but he didn't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable or think of him differently. 

You were the first to speak, breaking eye contact and looking at his chest. “Um, could I, if it’s not too weird, um- put...my arms around you?” you immediately regretted it; what if he didnt understand your Korean, what if you translated it wrong in your head before saying it outloud what if-.... A small chuckle coming from in front of you stopped your train of thought, Jungkook put his hand under your chin and lifted your face to look at him again; he took your arms and placed them around his neck; he then put his hands on your waist, but loosened his hold and asked if you were okay with that and you nodded.

You both stared at each other’s eyes; you both fit so perfectly in each other's arms you felt so comfortable. The tension could be cut with a knife, you looked back at his lips and he did too; getting closer, you could feel his breathing on your face, you both closed your eyes and barely touched your lips together when his phone went off for the millionth time startling you, you both separated your faces and looked wide-eyed at the other, a tint of blush on your cheeks… you kissed him, he kissed you, even though it was the tiniest, shortest, lightest kiss in the history of kisses you both felt happy about it. When you realized you two had the same expression on your faces you both laughed, you had never been this comfortable with a man before, specially in such a short period of time.

His phone ket going off and off, “My phone has been ringing for so long now hahaha, since we left the elevator it has rung, but I didn't want to answer and um- you know… I don't want to answer and not be focused on you” he said as you both took a step back from each other and as he answered the 37th call after ignoring other 36 calls. 

“PFFfffft ohhhhh he answered, hi guki, um ahahaha shut the fAq uP Tae ahahahah um…. we….. can't get into our rooms'' you could hear the snickers and slow words through the phone, you and Jungkook still felt a little numb and sloppy from the alcohol, how could they be so drunk?. 

“Hyung… ugh fine, i’ll be there don’t go anywhere, nobody move, okay?” he hung up and humorously sighed, he would normally find this situation to be hilarious but the fact that he had to interrupt a once in a lifetime moment with his celebrity crush so that he could help his older brothers….dam.

You chuckled at his reaction, you picked the heels from the ground and boldly kissed him on the cheek, you walked in front of him to head inside, knowing how caring he was to his friends; but before you could go inside Jungkook stopped you by taking your hand, “I know this is an embarrassing question but if I don't do this now I may never be able to have this opportunity again…” 

You were still facing the door, your hand in his hand behind your back; frozen from anticipation of what he might say next. 

“Can I um-, *deep inhale* can I kiss you one more time before you go?” you immediately turned around (and this might be the alcohol working it’s magic but you thought ‘he is right, if this was someone else you probably wouldn't have kissed them first day after meeting meeting them, but this was Jungkook, your ‘platonic crush’ from the other side of the world, what if after this weekend you never saw each other again?’) 

Dropping your heels, and letting go of his hand you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him in to you and kissing him; you both smiled against each other's lips form the sudden butterflies in your stomach and happiness you felt. He pulled you even closer with one hand on the side of your face and the other on your hip, then he wrapped his arms around your torso and you put your arms around his neck holding each other tighter. 

This was no ‘take me now’ R-rated kiss at all; it was a more soft, intimate, sweet kiss. You let go and hugged each other one last time on that terrazze; normally you both didn't really like the whole “corny lovey dovey” scene, so once you let go you both chuckled at your cheesy moment. You walked back inside with him to look for your hotel room, he even asked if he could hold your hand while walking down the hall, you laughed a little at him and took his hand confidently. You remembered your manager told you your room was 456B when the boys were dragging you at the entrance. You  finally arrived at the door, you turned to look at Jungkook and thanked him with a warm genuine smile; he leaned down and kissed the side of your mouth and smiled back and said goodnight with his bunny smile.  :,) 

You turned around and turned the handle to open the door, it didn't open… and something finally clicked in that drunken little head of yours…. SAM NEVER GAVE YOU THE FUC*ING ROOM KEY… you felt like panicking, it was almost 5:30 am, you had to be awake in 2.5 hours for rehearsals and you had nowhere to sleep, instead of crying you laughed, you burst out laughing; Jungkook covered your mouth and leaned over you with your back against the door; he was looking around with a quiet giggle to make sure you didn't wake anyone up.

“ahhh *small giggle* ahh um yeah I would normally just cry in these situations but I- I don’t have a key… Sam didn't give me one” Jungkook was about to come up with a plan to solve this but you knew what he was going to say:  “The front desk won’t open that room for me because it is not registered under my name, for security reasons; Two they can’t give me another room because I need my card and ID to get one and I only have my phone with me; Three, I can’t wake up sam or anyone in my team because A. it isn’t their fault and I would be disrupting their sleep, B. I will get in trouble because Sam told me to come back early, and C…. idk but I wanted to say ‘and C’ ” you said, Jungkook looked down at you and couldn’t help but laugh at you. “Hey don’t make fun of me, it’s not my fault” you poked his chest. He stopped, “No, I’m not laughing at you, the guys have a similar problem apparently what a coincidence” he answered. The both of you decided to go see the guys first before trying to figure out what to do, together, as a team of 8 drunk heads. 

When you arrived on the top floor, there they where, 5 drunk BTS members in front of you; RM was leaning over a hallway wall talking to ‘nothing’ as if he was practicing how to flirt with an invisible person; J-Hope was passed out in fetal position on the floor; Suga was cry laughing rolling on the floor while also trying to click the camera button on his phone as he wobbled back and forth clicking on everything but the camera icon; Jimin was standing still, phone still in his ear, he looked at a statue (remember Kookie said on the phone with Jimin ‘nobody move, okay?’ well Jimin hadn’t moved ever since Jungkook hung up the phone); Tae was literally in the middle of performing some sort of strip/circus/magic/dance show for Suga when they realized you two standing there they composed themselves “what… the hell? hahahahahha, what happened?” You laughed out loud and Jungkook immediately covered your mouth, he quietly giggled as he had done this exact thing minutes ago too. 

In summary, once Jin waved everyone off he went into his room, that's why he is not here; Suga struggled to find his key but eventually found it in his suit jacket and was able to go into his room, he barely spent one minute in there when RM knocked at the door and told Suga that he had no idea where is room was, the keys where not numbered, so Suga said ‘I can help you’ and went out to the hallway to help him but even Suga was confused as to how HE found his room so he told RM don’t worry, sleep in my room and tomorrow the staff can help you, when he turned around to open the door Suga realized he left the key inside. J-Hope had passed out in Jin’s room and Jin had said it was okay for him to stay in his room, but J-Hope had woken up and said good night and walked out so Jin though he was all good and on his way safely to his room...WRONG, J-hope gave up 5 steps down the hall and said ‘i need rest, here floor *thump*’ and dropped on the ground; Taehyung didn’t even know he had a room for himself, so he definitely he has no idea where his room was supposed to be; and Jimin did know where his key was and room, but it apparently was deactivated, but seeing how everyone was up here he opted to not go get it reactivated, he didn’t want to be left out.

Jungkook started losing it, cry-laughing at his friends; this time you humorously covered his mouth like he did to you, as you tried to think of a solution. BINGO, you rang Jin’s door insistently until he opened up. Once he opened the door with sleepy eyes he analized the scene behind you and your hand covering the youngest member’s mouth he sighed, allowing you all inside his room. 

All of you knew you had less than 3 hours to sleep and actually do a good job tomorrow so everyone took up a spot to rest. In the bed J-hope and Jin slept comfortably; Suga fell asleep sitting down on the desk chair; Tae slept in the bathroom’s bathtub; RM threw himself on the tiny couch for two with his arms and legs hanging out from the sides; you sat on the floor leaning against the wall, Jimin used your leg as a pillow and Jungkook sat next to you, he actually did have his hotel key with him and knew his room was literally the one next to this one, but he wanted to be where you where. You both also fell asleep sitting leaning against the wall.

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PART 5------> here

Thank you all for giving my fanfic a shot. I will keep doing my best to give you a good story, please interact with the post :) Xx

#bts #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook #jeon jungguk #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Paloma, Part I

Series Masterlist - Part I - Part II

Word count: 4100+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Statesman!Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, and "You" (OC cis/het female reader, Statesman research analyst, code name “Paloma”; age 26; reader is “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: fully legal age gap; curse words; references to M/F sex; lots of yearning; a little sprinkling of angst; American readers, please be warned that this piece features the absolutely filthy fantasy of Statesman paying off your student loans in full

You left Kentucky on a sunny June morning with a rolling suitcase, six cardboard boxes, and a heart full of golden light. You were ready for the new challenges of your promotion and the move to New York, but it was still hard to quell the little butterflies that insisted on dancing and twirling in your gut. Statesman HQ was like a beacon that had been calling to you for the last three years, and you were half-convinced that the promotion and the move were a daydream; something that would be snatched out of your hands if you thought about it too much.

It was strange to leave Kentucky, your home since you were four years old. You had been raised in a small town about an hour south of Louisville, and you hadn't had the opportunity to leave until college. Even then you didn't travel very far, just to a dorm room at the University of Louisville, going back to your hometown for every vacation instead of flying off to California or Europe like some of your more glamorous friends.

You had put your time to good use, though. You busted your ass and completed an accelerated program in Criminal Justice that earned you both a Bachelor's and a Master's in one go, with a minor in statistics and data science. The result was a deep and abiding love of research and analysis, with the burning desire to do good in the world.

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The Friday morning of your graduation ceremony, you emerged from your apartment fresh-faced and giddy, ready to walk the stage and start the next phase: adult life in the "real world." You knew that your life was about to change, but as you juggled the garment bag with your cap and gown and tried to lock your door, you had no idea just how much. You heard a soft voice say your name behind you, and it made you jump and drop your purse, spilling the contents across your doorstep. You turned to see a woman of about 40, with flawless terra-cotta skin and an adorable mop of chestnut hair. Black horn-rimmed glasses framed bright, inquisitive eyes. She immediately bent to help you retrieve your belongings, stammering gentle apologies.

"I'm so sorry! Let me help you get your things. I didn't mean to scare you." She smiled sweetly at you and handed you back your sunglasses and lip gloss.

"No! It's fine, I'm sorry I'm so preoccupied." You lifted the garment bag by way of explanation. "Graduation day! Um, how can I help you?"

"You don't know me, but my name is Ginger. I work for an organization that recruits bright young minds like yours. It's a lot to explain, but if you're interested in a job interview next week, we'd love to talk with you." She handed you a creamy white business card with a Louisville address.

You frowned. "Statesman Distillery? I don't have any experience with alcohol production or marketing. I do data analysis and my degrees are in criminal justice."

"We know. We've been following your research and your schooling for a while." She gave you a mischievous smile, and it looked for all the world like she was hiding something fun behind it, something secretive and intriguing that made you want to know more.

"Please, just give me an hour of your time next week? When you have some time to pay us a visit, just call that number and ask for me. I'm really looking forward to chatting with you."

You thanked her and promised you would call, and then you tucked the card into your bag and forgot all about it for nearly a week. Graduation day was hectic, with lots of relatives visiting and interrogating you about your career plans, and the days afterward were spent attending parties and saying goodbye to friends who were scattering to far-flung places. After you had finished the last of your university-related errands like returning a few library books and picking up your official transcript, there wasn't much left to do except putter around your apartment and take a few days off before beginning a job search. Those student loans weren't going to pay themselves off.

You found Ginger's card in your purse on Wednesday morning and put it on the fridge with a magnet. On Thursday you were so hungover you didn't want to make any calls. On Friday you found yourself at loose ends with nothing planned, so you picked up the phone and dialed. When you reached the switchboard you gave your name and asked for Ginger, and they put you right through. She picked up after one ring, as if she had been waiting for your call.

"Hi! I'm so glad you called me! Can you come by today?" Ginger sounded genuinely excited to talk to you, not smarmy or fake like other corporate recruiters you had spoken with.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes, thank you. Are you sure today's okay? I can come next week if that's better."

"No! Please come whenever you're ready. I'm really hoping you'll like what you see."

"Okay, will I need to dress up? Will I be meeting with anyone for an interview? Should I bring copies of my resume?" You wanted to make a good impression, but you weren't sure if this was just something the distillery did casually, like a winery tour, or if you would need to be ready for a formal interview.

"Nope! Just bring yourself! We already know everything we need to know about your qualifications."

"Ah... okay. I'm all yours. I'll see you in about an hour?"

"Perfect! I'll leave your name at the front gate with the guard. Just show them your ID and they'll wave you through."

You said your goodbyes and put the phone down. What kind of data analysis job was even available at a distillery? Market trends? Did they need a criminal justice major for tracking down rip-offs, like people counterfeiting their product? But wait, didn't the government do that kind of thing? The ATF? You shook your head clear of questions and hopped in the shower. You could ask Ginger all of your questions, since she seemed to be so happy to talk with you.

When you arrived at the Statesman Distillery an hour later, you were impressed at the size of the facility. Distilleries were pretty common in the state of Kentucky, with lots of little family companies sprinkled around. But Statesman rivaled the big names for sheer square footage.

Ginger met you in a conference room and offered you coffee, and then asked you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You didn't think twice about it. NDAs were common in lots of industries, and you guessed that it had something to do with trade secrets, Statesman not wanting to leak information about their whiskey production details. When Ginger began the tour and you walked down a long hallway with multiple sparkling white laboratories behind thick glass, you found it unusual, but not alarming. Cleanrooms, maybe? Something to do with alcohol distillation formulas, probably.

When she ushered you into a large wood-paneled office and introduced you to Champ, the head of Statesman, you thought it was odd. Companies didn't normally introduce new college graduates to executives during tours. Based on the size of the organization, you thought you might meet the CEO or President once or twice a year, maybe at a holiday party or a company retreat. But he was friendly, and he seemed to have already heard of you; his eyebrows raised an inch at Ginger when she gave him your name. He also seemed far more interested in criminal justice and data analysis than you expected for a distillery executive, but you shook hands and answered all of his questions politely.

When Ginger asked you to step into an elevator and it dropped 10 floors, you started to wonder a little. When the doors opened and she walked you to a room with a huge bank of monitors, with screens showing all kinds of maps and security video feeds, you were downright confused. But when she revealed the cherry on top, the fact that Statesman was not in the business you thought they were? That was too shocking. You were sure she was joking. You turned behind you to look for hidden cameras, expecting a prank show host to come jumping out at you.

"This is a joke, right?"

Ginger smiled that sweet, warm smile at you. "No joke. We want you to join the Research Unit, working in the Data Analysis section. You would be keeping our agents safe, helping them make the best decisions possible. And in turn your work could save lives, hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. What do you say?"

"I... uh... I still think you’re joking. I’ve never heard of anything like this. I… are you sure you want me?"

"Yes, if you're interested. We could use you on the team." She pushed a little slip of paper into your hand, and when you saw the annual salary that was listed, you almost fainted.

"Ginger, this is way too much. I just graduated and this is, like... this is a senior analyst's salary. I'd be able to pay off my student loans in like three years!"

"Actually, we would be paying your student loans off before you start work. If you have financial burdens hanging over your head you could be vulnerable to bribes or extortion attempts from foreign governments or bad actors. We want you clear before you start with us. Think of it as a signing bonus."

"Holy shit! Sorry, I mean... I... Jesus." You looked at her in confusion. "Y'all really want me?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, we really do."

"Okay, when do I start?"

And that had been it, your first "big girl" job out of college. You were welcomed warmly to the Statesman team, and you loved the fact that you did interesting work that had a real impact. The hardest part had been telling your friends and family the required cover story, saying you were doing market analysis until you could find a job in criminal justice somewhere. But since you were happy with your new job and it paid well, none of them pressured you to move on.

During your first two years with Statesman you climbed the ranks, earning promotions and new responsibilities that eventually put you in the seat of Assistant Director of Data Analysis. You had risen high enough in Statesman that your work required a code name, and you chose “Paloma,” a nod to your favorite grapefruit cocktail. You answered directly to the head of the Research Unit, and every report that your team produced was vital. You weren't wasting your talent in some corporate hole, enriching the CEO's salary at the expense of your sanity. You were saving lives, making a difference. Your reports had even been sent to the New York headquarters, where they used them as a model for operations.

And the job had brought you romance, too. One day not long after your promotion to Assistant Director, you were walking out of the conference room, so focused on your phone that you didn't see where you were going. You bumped into something large and solid in a denim shirt, and a pair of warm, calloused hands held your shoulders to steady you. You cursed softly to yourself and then looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes that you had ever seen. A man with patchy stubble and a well-worn baseball cap smiled at you, eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Whoa! Are you okay?" His eyes looked concerned as they searched your face. You looked at him with wonder. He was so, so beautiful. The smile dropped, and then his brows knitted together into a slight frown. "I said, are you okay?"

You realized you were staring with your mouth half open like some lovestruck teenager, and that an embarrassing amount of time had passed since you first met his eyes.

"Yes!" Your voice was louder than you intended. "Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry I bumped into you. I should have watched where I was going. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Did I hurt you?"

"Ah, no. No, I'm fine. Sorry. Just distracted today."

"That's okay. Sorry I startled you." He smiled again and squeezed your upper arm.

You could have stayed there forever, leaning into his touch. He let go, much to your chagrin, and then went into the conference room. You made a note to ask someone who he was, to see if you could find out more about him. He wasn't being escorted by a staff member, so he was obviously part of the Statesman organization somehow. Someone would know who he was.

You went into the ladies room, running into Ginger at the sinks. "Oh, Paloma! I'm so glad I saw you. I need to steal your boss for an urgent matter. Can you run his 11:00 meeting in the conference room? I know it's last minute, but I'll buy you lunch later."

Your brain flickered out for a nanosecond. The 11:00 meeting? The conference room? The handsome man? You recovered your composure and smiled at Ginger. "Yeah, no problem at all. Tell him to drop his notes off in the conference room and I'll be there in just a moment."

Ginger smiled and punched your shoulder softly. "Thanks, Pal. I owe you one."

You washed your hands in a trance. Oh lord, this was going to be interesting. You squared your shoulders and met your own eyes in the mirror. You looked exactly like you had this morning, just your normal self. Most of the time that was fine, but right now you wanted to be more glamorous, more devastating. You wanted to absolutely bewitch the handsome mystery man in the meeting. In the absence of some kind of last-minute emergency Hollywood makeup team, you would have to settle for a fresh application of lip balm and a quick scrub of your teeth with a damp paper towel. You flicked a stray eyebrow hair into place, sighed, and headed back to the conference room. Looks weren't important anyway, right? Statesman had hired you for your brain, not your face. And really, you were more interested in showing your boss that you could do well in your new role. So you banished your insecurities from your mind and breezed into the meeting.

"Good morning everyone." You studiously chose not to look at the handsome man you had run into, keeping your eyes on your notes for the time being. You were afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away. "The Director has been called away for an urgent matter, so I'll be leading today’s operational planning meeting. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Paloma."

You risked a glance at the handsome stranger, relieved to see that his eyes were on his notepad and not on you. You let out a breath and found your stride, walking the group through the team's findings, the data, the implications, and the desired outcome for the mission. Agent Tequila asked a few cocky, half-assed questions, probing you for weaknesses. Normally that would have irritated you, but today it was a welcome focus that took your mind off the butterflies. You knocked Tequila back in place with a few well-chosen words, and then opened up the floor for questions.

The handsome man raised his hand, and your eyes fixed on how large and thick his fingers were. Oh God, this was torture. "Yes, Mr...?"

"Catfish. Um, can you tell me more about the extraction plan?"

"Yes, absolutely." You went over that phase of the mission, giving all the details your team had gathered about the terrain and the timing. When you were done, Catfish smiled at you, and your knees went weak at the sight of the dimple that appeared. No one else had questions, so you closed the meeting and stood to leave.

Suddenly there was a warm wall of denim at your elbow. "Hey, that was really detailed information. Thank you so much for walking me through everything."

You turned and smiled. "You're welcome. Glad I could help." You fumbled for something to say, trying to extend the conversation and keep him in your orbit for however long you could while everyone else filed out of the room.

"So, um, you go by 'Catfish.' Can I ask why? That's your code name, right? There's not some kind of hidden tragedy where that's the name your parents actually wrote on your birth certificate?"

He chuckled, throwing his head back. The expanse of his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple did nothing to improve the butterflies. They only fluttered harder, rising higher in your chest.

"It's an old Army nickname, I was Special Forces about a million years ago. Now I'm here on the transport team. I'm a helicopter pilot. When we're not working you can just call me Frankie."

"Ah." You bit your lip and nodded. Why couldn't you think of something else to say? Fortunately, Frankie continued the conversation.

"And you're Paloma around here? I love that drink. Am I allowed to know your real name, or is that classified?"

You grinned and shook his hand, giving him your name. When it rolled off his lips in that deep voice it sounded like heaven to you. You didn't want anyone else to say your name ever again. Just him.

He leaned closer, like he was sharing a secret. “Can I ask you a question? Top secret.” He winked, and you nodded.

“Can I take you to lunch?”

Your heart dropped into your pelvis, and you gulped, hard. “Y-yes. Yes, that would be great. I’d love to.”

---

When Ginger found you in your office at 2:00 p.m. you were staring off into space, smiling blissfully.

“Hey, Paloma. Why did you blow me off for lunch? I came by at 12:30, I was going to take you out.”

“Oh! Oh my god, Ginger, I’m so sorry! I had a date.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, settling down in one of your visitors chairs. “A date?”

“No! Not a date. A, um…” You burst into husky giggles, and then confessed everything to her: the handsome man, the crinkles around his eyes, his dimples and his silly code name, the easy conversation over lunch, and the fact that he had scribbled his phone number down on a sticky note that was now burning a hole in your pocket. You felt like you were 12 again, confiding in your girlfriend about crushes and cute boys.

Ginger laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. “No wonder you forgot about me. I can’t compete with a handsome helicopter pilot!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ginger. I really didn’t mean to forget.”

“No, it’s okay. But definitely call him this weekend and make a real date. I’ll want details when you take me out for an apology lunch on Monday.” She winked and left your office.

You sat back in your chair and tilted back to look at the ceiling while you considered it. Was it too soon to call him and make a date? Ugh, this was agony. You decided that going by conventional rules hadn’t really mattered to you at any point in your life until now, so why the hell not?

You took a deep breath, trying to puff up your confidence. When he answered the phone on the second ring, you dove right in. “Hi, Catfish? It’s Paloma. Listen, I had a really good time at lunch, and I’d like to see you this weekend if you’re free.”

---

On Monday, you had a whole lot to report to Ginger.

Frankie took you up for a sightseeing flight on your date, and you loved the way he controlled everything; making sure he warned you before any sudden movements, and checking that you weren’t getting airsick or anxious. When the rotors were stilled and you were back on the ground, Frankie reached over to help you unbuckle your harness. Something got stuck, and the agonizing extra seconds of feeling him jostle the strap near your hip made you bold. When it was finally free and he was about to pull his hand away, you grabbed his wrist. He looked at you, alarmed that something was wrong, and you crashed your lips against his, all teeth and tongue and wanting. Frankie was as good a kisser as he was a pilot, and you spent the rest of the date making out in his truck.

The next weekend, you found out that his warm, work-worn hands were also magic in the bedroom. Frankie was adept at tweaking your sensitive spots as gently as the little buttons and switches of the flight panel, bringing you to thrumming heights the same way he did his helicopter.

The rest of the summer passed in heady, humid days and nights like a dream. You loved Frankie’s easy sense of humor and his confidence in the cockpit. But Frankie was less confident about your relationship, voicing concerns about the decade-plus that separated your ages, and whether he was keeping you from dating men your own age. He made self-deprecating comments about being an “old man,” and you reassured him that there was no one you’d rather be with, no one who could sway your attention. You loved using your hands and arms and lips and tongue to reassure him, finding that he had his own sensitive spots that you could manipulate. You loved sending him to sleep with a smile on his face.

But as much as you and Frankie enjoyed the relationship, the nature of his work with the transportation team meant that he was never in town for very long. At the same time, your job was getting more complex, requiring late nights at the office that interfered with your time together. You refused to dwell too much on the fact that you were torn, that you loved your work as equally as you wanted to spend those nights with Frankie.

By the end of the summer, you both came to the realization that it was nobody’s fault, simply a case of poor circumstances, and you decided to end things and remain friends. In October Frankie left Statesman to take a job that relocated him to Florida. You were wistful, and you missed him, but at least it had been an amicable split. At least friends was something. And as sometimes happens even with the best of intentions, the time in between each phone call grew longer, and you eventually lost touch. Last you heard he was spending weekends with his old Army buddies who all lived nearby, and he had a new girlfriend. By February the ache was starting to subside, and by April you were nearly ready to date again.

In May, almost three years to the day after Ginger’s visit to your apartment had changed your life, you were offered the position to lead the Data Analysis team in New York. You jumped at the chance. Statesman located an apartment for you, and from the pictures you were already in love with it. Huge windows looked out over the city, and it was within walking distance of Statesman HQ. Your farewell party was bittersweet. Ginger offered to come visit you, and promised that New York would be everything you hoped it would be. Your team gave you such high praises that you joked that if that’s what it took to hear accolades, you would have left ages ago.

---

Your first few days in New York were spent acclimating to the Statesman HQ, and getting to know your neighborhood. It was strange to find that you could walk or take the subway for whatever you needed, compared to the Midwest where a car was required for everything. Your new team was welcoming, and you enjoyed your new duties immensely. Your first two weeks on the job passed in no time, and you went home every night feeling like you could fly.

And then you hit a wall, in the form of Jack Daniels, a.k.a. “Senior Agent Whiskey.” You knew him by reputation, of course. Ginger had filled you in on his exploits, his overbearing charm, his smarmy flirtations. You had seen him once or twice in passing when he had visited Champ’s office, but you hadn’t actually met him in person.

When you finally did, you almost asked for an immediate transfer back to Louisville. --- "Paloma" Series Masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

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