#and given that my other ensemble set did numbers

[whiskeyghoul]

She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader] Pt2.

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

A/N: OMG I can’t believe how much people enjoyed part 1? Seriously, as I am finishing this part up it has reached over 500 notes, I am shocked and so very thankful for the love. I didn’t expect it. A silly little fic not proof read, totally self indulgent, really this is so wonderful and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read it and reblog, like or comment on it. I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint. Part 3 is going to be here soon too, which will be the unofficial date.

WC: 1,9K ~

Tags: Fluff, just fluff, Spencer is a flustered mess, Alt!Reader, Goth!Reader, 2 idiots flirting, Reader and Penelope are besties, use of Y/N, Penelope has been playing matchmaker, alluding to a date, crushes.

Warnings: None. 

Your pov.

It was a late Sunday afternoon. You were sitting on Penelope Garcia’s couch, cup of hot tea in hand. Legs curled up on the couch with a colorful blanket over your lap. It clashed just ever so slightly with your dark outfit. The two of you are in complete contrast to each other. Penelope was a ball of color in a bright purple dress with a lemon pattern, large yellow earrings and a blue bolero sweater. Compared to your all black ensemble she was a ray of sunshine. An array of snacks spread out over the coffee table. The aforementioned peppy blonde was sitting next to you on the couch. Deeply engrossed with the romance show playing on the TV. You watched it together every Sunday, when a new episode would come out. Today your mind was somewhere else completely.

“He hasn’t called yet.” You spoke up. Penelope eyed you curiously, “Who?” She asked, her focus gone from the show. Her eyes peered at you with interest from behind the cat eye glasses she had picked out that day. “Doctor Reid.” You turned your head back to the TV casually, trying to not seem bothered. You could hear Penelope hold back a small squeal. It sounded more like a gasp that way. “Oh my god! Are you interested in him? What did he do to impress you? I have been trying to set you up for ages! You have shot down any person I have discussed with you. Always something wrong.” She started rambling, hearing the clink of her glass being put on the coffee table. Her hands grabbed yours, making you look back at her and rolling your eyes. “Firstly: I am not ‘interested’ in him. Secondly: I just thought he would have called by now. Or stopped by at least.” You shrugged noncommittally. You were just a little interested. Thinking back to that meeting.

When Spencer had stepped into the lab earlier that week, courtesy of Penelope, you had found his awkward demeanor endearing. He was hot, that was for sure, and tall, you remembered having to look up at him, Those dark brown eyes pinning you in place. Especially when you had stood so close together. You had wanted to tease him after watching him stumble over his sentences. See him even more flustered. It made you somewhat excited. When you had given him your number you could feel his pulse racing under his skin. He had shown many signs of being interested yet he hadn’t even texted you. It made you rethink the interaction. 

“Well, he couldn’t have stopped by. They got called on a case in Utah so he’s not really in the area right now.” Penelope clarified. Those words put your mind at ease more than you expected them to. “Oh, I guess he can’t really get to the lab then.” You shrugged. Just a little disappointed but feeling relieved that apparently he hadn’t meant to not visit you. Or maybe he had done so on purpose if he would be close. Your earlier relief was replaced by a mild panic again. Trying to convince yourself you weren’t interested in Dr. Reid. Although, he could have texted.

You could practically feel Penelope smirk as you turned your attention back on the TV. Unable to focus but pretending to. “Spence is not one for texting. He probably has been getting to the hotel at ungodly hours and hasn’t had time to call.” it was like she could read your mind. “Don’t do that.” You said with a shudder. “Do what?” Penelope questioned innocently. “Read my mind like that. It’s weird.” You answered, making her laugh. “Just goes to show how well I know you.” She answered with a smile. It was true. She knew you too well you would even argue. The fact both of you were women in a male dominated field, both dressed eccentricly, and both with a passion for cheesy movies and tv shows. It was only a matter of time until you were best friends after your first run in.

“Why did you call?” You asked, trying to continue on without dawdling. “Oh eh, the report, I ehm…” He was quiet for a moment. It crossed your mind that maybe he didn’t need to speak with you, but he wanted to. “Yes?” You urged after a silence had fallen on the other side of the phone line. There was an intake of breath from Spencer, a moment that signaled he might be trying to raise some courage. “I didn’t want to talk about the report.” He finally spoke. It made you smile, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Oh, well then what did you want to talk about?” You added a bit of playfulness in your tone. You pictured him, holding the phone to his ears that were tipped red. His face was probably just as flushed as it had been in the lab. 

Your phone, which was placed on the table, lit up at that moment. The ringtone played at a high volume, making the cure blast through the room. Your eyes quickly flickered to the screen. Caller ID unknown. You picked up the phone, hesitant of the unknown caller, deciding to hang up instead. You had been plagued by telemarketers for the past month and really didn’t want to deal with that right now. If it was important they would call again. And they did, you still had your phone in your hands when it went off again. “Just pick it up! I will keep watch over our show, fill you in later.” Penelope said, motioning her hands for you to get up. You got off the couch, soft blanket falling to the ground as you picked up the phone. Softly padding away to the kitchen to be out of earshot of Penelope. “Y/n speaking.” you answered, waiting to hear from the other end of the line.

“Hey… ehm… is this not the right time? Are you busy?” The voice on the other end of the line made you straighten up slightly in surprise. “Doctor Reid.” You breathe out his name quietly, adding a “Now is a perfectly good time.” to your sentence. Wondering how hearing his voice through the slightly tin-like phone speaker made you feel a little flutter in your stomach. “Good… I didn’t want to bother you. You can just call me Spencer by the way. Doctor sounds too formal. I just introduce myself like that. It’s a habit. I don’t call you Doctor L/n either. So call me Spencer.” He started rambling. A smile spread across your lips, this rambly version was different from how speechless he had been in the lab. You held back a giggle. Apparently you had rendered him speechless in the lab. “Alright, Spencer.” You answered, the humor in your voice apparent. His breath hitched a little on the other side of the line. 

“You didn’t make a bad impression. I gave you my number for a reason.” You told him with a smile, a little giddy as the words ‘he called me pretty’ kept bouncing around your head. “And I am sorry I called without any real reason to… I know it was for talking about the report. Though Morgan tried to convince me it wasn’t.” Spencer answered. You rolled your eyes at that. Ofcourse, this hyper intelligent man would mix up what you were trying to do. “I gave you my number because I wanted you to call me. Not about the report. I just wanted you to call me. About anything.” There was apparently a need to clear up that confusion. It was silent for another moment. “Oh.” It was like realization dawned on him. “So I should have called sooner, right?” His question made you laugh softly, trying not to clue in Penelope on your call.  “Yes, you should have. Or could have at least. I was waiting.” You answered back, smiling at the ground. You fidgeted with one of the large rings on your free hand, twisting the cool metal round with your thumb.

“I ehm- I haven’t been able to focus, on the case that is. Because I keep thinking about the lab. How I probably came off as a mess, I just didn’t know what to say because you looked so… Not that you look bad because you don’t, you looked really nice. Emily says my IQ gets slashed down to 68 when I am around pretty girls. I wanted to make a good impression. I couldn’t find the words though. I usually don’t make great first impressions, because I tend to ramble. Just- I really really hope I didn’t make a bad first impression.” His sentences flowed into each other like word vomit. Nervous, quick, and hardly understandable. Luckily, you were trained in the art of understanding nervous rambles when Penelope would spiral into one from time to time. However he had called you pretty. “Spencer.” You said his name almost like a question. There was a beat of silence. “Yes?” He asked softly, he sounded so nervous.

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. The slight uptick in his pitch. You imagined he was still fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, or was perhaps looking at his shoes with a grin. “You can make it up to me by buying me a coffee when you get back.” The suggestion came naturally, you didn’t even have to think about it. The words left your lips before you could, really. “What do you like?” Spencer asked without hesitation. “Cinnamon latte.” You answered it softly, a little surprised he agreed so readily. A giddy feeling in your stomach. “Alright, cinnamon latte, I’ll remember.” Spencer sounded a little breathy, like he too was feeling giddy at the prospects of having coffee together. Like the idea of taking time to get to know each other at work over a warm beverage was the perfect first date. “What do you like?” You asked in turn, wanting to know what he would usually get. Knowing more about him would feel so domestic and sweet. “Black coffee, usually with tons of sugar.” He had a hint of embarrassment in your voice. A little muffled like he had covered his mouth to hold in the confession of drinking it so sweet. You smiled at his answer. Of course he had a sweet tooth. “Tons of sugar, I’ll remember.” You mirrored his words. 

“Oh! My! God!” You heard Penelope gasp from the living room. Knocking you out of your little phone call bubble with Spencer. “I think I have to go. You better call me tomorrow.” You said it lightheartedly. Just wanting to hear from him again soon. “I will. I’ll call you.” Spencer answered. “Bye Spencer.” “Bye Y/n.” You hung up with a smile, already turning and walking back into the living room. Penelope turned around on the couch to look at you, “They shot Richard!” She looked absolutely shocked as she gave you the news of your favorite character being hurt. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face though. “Spencer called.” You saw her face form from a shocked to surprise expression, “Oh! My! God!” She sounded a lot happier that time, and you knew you wouldn't hear the end of it.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #Goth reader #self indulgent fic #fanfic writer #tumblr writer #she blinded me with science #part 2 #whiskeyghoul

[e-the-village-cryptid]

Goncharov the Musical (1985)

with all this goncharov posting I still haven’t seen anyone mention the musical adaptation! granted, if goncharov is a lost movie, then the musical is fricken atlantis, but the little-known adaptation did in fact exist, if very briefly. as far as I’ve been able to find out, there were only two showings and somewhere between 5 and 10 previews before it was shut down for good. 

just as goncharov itself is full of bitter ironies, so too is the story behind the (partial) recovery of this musical. Cranston Park Theatre, where the musical was staged, suffered flooding in September of this year, forcing the theater to close for repairs. in clearing out their flooded basement, a few discs from the goncharov production were discovered, but not before the long submersion in water highly damaged them. yeah, the same flood that led to the discs’ rediscovery also ruined large portions of them. the irony is flawless, but I’m still mad about that lost history that may never be recovered. 

however, we do have a mostly intact rendition of the first two numbers, which are, as in most musicals, an ensemble opener and an “I want” song. (many thanks to the Cranston Park Theatre employee who got permission to post the recovered clips to youtube!) the song titles are lost to time as far as I can tell, but we have some footage and that’s what’s most important. let’s dive in!

the ensemble opener: it’s very militaristic, which is an interesting choice. the stately march-style opener evokes the mechanical, grim themes present throughout much of the film— or, at least it would, if the costumes weren’t so ridiculous. despite the attempted seriousness of the number, the set and costumes come off as quite campy— perhaps this was an intentional mockery of the militaristic march, to emphasize the existing irony of comparing mafia and gangsters to soldiers? my favorite part about this number is that the strong, steady beat is exactly 60 bpm— one beat per second, like the ticking of a clock. say what you will about the directors of this musical, but they knew their motifs for sure!

the “I want” song: usually the second song of a musical would be given to the lead to sing their “I want” ballad— think “Waiting on a Miracle” in Encanto where Mirabel just wants to be special like the rest of the family, or “Carrie” in Carrie (a musical from around the same time period that suffered a similar fate of early cancellation, but that’s a parallel for a different post), where Carrie longs for her classmates to stop bullying her and see her for who she truly is. now, in Goncharov, this song is given not to Goncharov, but to Katya. this is fascinating! the narrative is essentially establishing Katya as the central character, of equal or greater importance than Goncharov himself. I wish so badly I could make out the lyrics, but the recording is too damaged for me at least. the tone of the ballad is emotional, though, and Katya can be seen gesturing to Goncharov, who is staged out of reach and out of earshot. At another point, she also gestures close to the wings, where there appears to be a figure? the video quality is very grainy but at least in my mind this has to be Sofia. (oh how I wish the lyrics were audible here!)  and of course, the centerpiece of the number (and the whole musical, really) is the giant clock tower in the square, which the choreography and Katya’s movements places as an important element of the song. the song ends with the tolling of the clock bells, setting the characters into a hurry about their business as if the spell is broken. ok, a little heavy-handed at this point. oh well, I honestly enjoy it, this song strikes the balance between sincere and campy— the choreography could be considered over-the-top and even a bit ridiculous in other circumstances but weirdly it worked?? one of my favorites and definitely the one I wish the most that we had a better recording of.

I’ll keep the analysis to just these two songs for now, but if anyone on some off-chance has found any better recordings of this musical please share them! not much is known about this musical’s history since it fell apart so quickly, likely due to budget and conflict between several of the lead actors and the director, so it’s entirely possible they performed at some other smaller theatre or at least rehearsed there. let’s piece this musical back together!

#goncharov #goncharov the musical #unreality #an e original

[popculturebuffet]

Monthly Muppet Madness: Muppets Mayhem

Hello all you happy muppets. For those of you new to this feature, i'm jake I review stuff and once a month I tackle all things muppets, from the troupe themselves to the various hensony spinoffs from Jim Henson and later Henson Workshop. If it has a muppet or something close to a muppet in it, it can go here. This marks a very special occasion for this feature as Muppets Mayhem is the first new Muppet project since I started doing this last march. It's also one I was entirely pumped for not just because I'd get to cover it whenever it dropped, but also for starring the electric mayhem, characters i've always liked and felt could front their own series.

It's also exciting as this is the first time in nearly a decade Disney has done a major muppets production. After the underperformance of Muppets Most Wanted and the quick cancelation of their sitcom, Disney has less cherished the muppets as anyone should and more.. trotted them out once every few years to do something with the property while not actually carring enough to do a new film or tv series and blaming the property itself for the fincial failures of Muppets Most Wanted and The Muppets... and not the fact the former was simply released against a pretty stacked theater and had a very diffrent (if still wonderful) tone from it's beloved predecessor, while the latter had a troubled production and while far from perfect had some good stuff in it.

Disney took a few setbacks as a sign that the muppets were done.. instead of a sign that maybe they just needed a new direction. Steve Whitmire's firing due to his increasing ego and Matt Vogel's rough go when he started as Kermit (not helped by not having the traning period whitmire did), really didn't help, but Disney didn't have a huge excuse. The Muppet Babies reboot happened and having watched some with my toddler nephew recently, it was pretty good, but as far as big mainstream attempts at reinviorating the muppets , Disney really didn't seem to give one iota of a shit and trotted them out for smaller projects like Muppets Now or the Muppets Haunted Mansion.

Disney Fucking up really isn't a suprise, especially given their recent debacle of removing a lot of disney+ shows including the muppet based earth to ned, which i'll be covering in july because fuck this decision entirely.

My point is, besides Disney can go eat a shoe sometimes, is that the Muppets really needed a full blown shot again and to try something new, something they'd adapted to. And Mayhem, for all it's faults.. is a good test of that: deciding to focus not on the core quartet of Kermit, Piggy, Gonzo and Fozzie, but on the wacky hippies on the side. It's honestly a brilliant idea to step away from the core cast for a sec and simply see if the various other weridos int he troupe could carry a story on their own. And Electric Mayhem are custom built for this test run: they provide an ensemble, so they don't have to explain why this set of muppets are off on their own adventure, one of their number is still one of THE most recognizable muppets, meaning they still get name recongition, and it leaves the creative team with a bunch of characters who while not BLANK slates, are still not as fleshed out enough to really get into.

So is this a great new direction for the muppets that will lead into a shared muppets universe as showrunner Adam F Goldberg hopes for.. or another horrible setback at a time when it's the last thing the muppets need? Hop in the van, and cruise with me under the cut as we find out.

So before we can get into the Mayhem themselves, let's get into the man

Let Me Take Your Picture, Add It to the Mixture. The genisis of this series is simple but fascinating: So in 2016. Bill Baretta, longtime muppet performer and the hand behind Dr. Teeth, was naturally there when the Mayhem did a set at the Outside LImits Music and Arts Festival. Baretta was stunned by the massive crowd.. and got to thinking, wondering just who these guys were outside of it and decided to start developing a series on the idea.

In true muppets fashion though.. he wasn't the only person to have the idea, as around the same time, Adam F. Goldberg's friend, editor Jeff Yorkes, cut him a sizzle real to sell him on the same idea. For those less familiar wtih him, Adam F. Goldberg was the creator of the long running 80's set sitcom the Goldbergs, and as happens often once he left the show hit it's seasonal rot HARD.

How both sides came together is unknown, my best guess being Disney realized they had two similar and awesome pitches for a show with the same concept in an IP they were barely using, so simply got the three together, the three gelling as they all had the same basic vision and simply used parts from both pitches to create the final show, with the same basic core of taking these obscure hippiees and fleshing them out. Part of the appeal for Goldberg, and something I strongly agree with is while the characters were known, there was just little enough known about who they were as people to give them wiggle room to develop.

And you can see a lot of The Goldbergs in Muppets Mayhem: it follows a cartoonish mildly disfunctional family, has schemes by one of the character whose a control freak usually cause the conlfict, and usually ends in a character developing button. And this could've been a disaster.. but the style does fit the muppets really well. The Mayhem are a family of choice, Nora works well in the beverley roll, more on her later, and while it has a bit of a formula to it, the episodes are still flexbile so that while most of the story is focused on the main plot of the band making an album, it uses it in a lot of creative ways: we see the band deal with electronic producing, accidently piss off every fan army on the globe, go for a marshmellow hallucination in the desert, save dr. teeth from his overbearing parents, do a documentary with Silent Bob, meet cheech and chong, paint danny trejo's house, nearly fall off a cliff and somehow record an album. Despite it's short run time the season goes a lot of intresting places and manages to expand the characters. It's clear while Goldberg has a style to his work that will likely carry to any future productions it doesn't really hamper a muppet production, and his , yorkes and of course baretta's clear love for the characters shows in tons of carefully picked archive footage and little continuity nods, from the mallory gallery to what have. you. There's even tiny bits of canon welding, with the band both apparently having beef with the river bottom nightmare band.. and having met the feebles.. which is now muppets canon. I didn't think anyone could top James Gunn making gobots canon to the mcu, but clearly I underestimated. The background does have it's drawbacks though: It's clear none of the three involved have really done a stremaing series , and as such ther'es a lot of little network watermarks, like uncessary cast photos and act breaks, sprinnkled throughout, things not really needed in a streaming series. There's also some bigger problems with the human cast but we'll save that for later. By now your all probably wondering what's this series even about? Okay most of you have probably binged the whole thing especially given how late after the series this is comign out. but bear with me

Use it If You Need It, Don't Forget To Feed It

The plot kicks off with the Band away from the rest of the muppets for a change, in the middle of a tour that's been going for the last 40 years ever since their Debut on the muppet show. It's a nice joke.. and also one that works well as given how loosey goosey the Mayhem are with anything resembling a plan, it makes sense they'd consider hanging out in a house with everyone else or working on miss piggy's show as her house band just part of a tour. It also points to another reason the Mayhem were a very easy fit to have their own show: it's not hard to explain why their not with everyone else. While chunks of the troupe have moonlighted, Bobo was an evil sidekick, Sam a government agent, as needed for the plot, with the Mayhem being musicians and party members them simply wondering off for a while makes sense. Kermit is probably so used to it he has a backup band on standby.

Enter Nora Singh, played by Lily Singh, youtuber i'm not familiar with turned failed talk show host and now turned actress, a struggling assitant for Waxtown Records, once the height of the industry now about to close because it's head Penny wants to retire and is convinced the place is dead. While there are sadly no muppet skeletons this time, Penny herself IS a muppet, something I was glad ot hear: given this series only really has the Mayhem and two guest characters otherwise, I assumed Penny would be a human when I first heard about the character and the reveal in the first episode was all too welcome. She's played by Leslie Carrara-Rudolph, best known muppet wise as Abby Kadabby over on seasame street, which should tell you just how deep her range is. With Penny planning to shut down she has Nora shred all their old documents.. and it's there she gets her shot, as not only was Waxtown Electric Mayhem's label.. but their infamous in universe for never having done an album. It's also a nice bit of metatext as while they've done a decent amount of music, until there hadn't been a real life electic mayhem album, such a slam dunk marketing wise it's weird they never did it. As for why not in universe it's simple: They thought they had and simply forgot to. As the series establishes, and fits perfectly with what little we knew about them, they just sorta move from one thing to another on a whim, agree to most things. Their friendly and upbeat.. but getting them to actually stay on task is a challenge, something I deeply relate to as this coming out almost 20 days after the show came out can attest to. Even once that's in hand Nora still has a season's worth of problems both the bands and her own, as her sense of what a band needs to be to be profitable clashes with what the band is. Since the band is too nice to course correct her most of the time, a lot of this is left to Moog, the band's number one fan. Moog is played by former child star Taj Moowry and serves as the bridge between the band and nora: as their fan, he can explain a lot of intricacises about the band to our heroine and us in the audience, while also having a better grasp on who they are. If you've gussed a large chunk of the series is Nora ignoring Moog's entirely sound advice about how the band works, your right and it's only kept from being too tiring because we usually move on to the band doing something funny and Mowry's impressive comedic timing.

When not being her own worst enemy Nora has to deal with her more succesful sister Haanah Singh (Saara Chaundry), and her obnoxious wallpaper of an ex boyfriend JJ, who is trying to buy the record company and succeding at trying my patience every time he's on screen despite Anders Holm's best effort. The Mayhem, Hannah and Moog included over time, have to deal with all this and more, from their own personal demons, to trying to update the sound, to documentaries to Dr. Teeth's parents to the most amecae band breakup in history to Janice accidently starting a cult it's a long strange journey.. and now we have context for that journey we can dive into the meat of it: the muppets and all too many live action people and the plentifu and welcome cameos. Everybody's Lover, Everybody's Brother, I Wanna Be Your LIfetime Friend:

Now we've got context for them we can stage dive into our moshpit of a cast... and who better to start with than our headliners. The Electric Mayhem are awesome as hoped. The series was always going to live or die on if these 6 weirdos could be fleshed out enoguh comedically and emotoinally to carry a whole series, possibly whole seasons. While the series has other characters and almost all of them contribute to the story in some needed way, it was always going to be about these 6 weirdos and getting to know them better. The series really lets you get them to know them as much as a group as people. While they always had an air of being peace loving accepting hippie folk, the series simply takes that basic and gives them a fully fleshed out identity as a group and as people. In this case the Mayhem are accepting, warmly welcoming anyone to work with them, and gladly up to try anything wether it be edm or playing a concert in minecraft. It may not work but they'll at least try it. It also shows they , like many a muppet, are incredibly unfocused, running off to do a party or what have you when they get distracted. They can rock well together, but it takes some outside force to wrangle them. It's telling only Nora, who NEEDS this job tow ork and Kermit, whose simply used to doing this kind of shit with every singl eperson he works with bar scooter, are the only ones who've actually succeeded at getting them on task. And Nora often stumbles simply because of the size of the task. Not everyone is Kermit levels of able to take this and i'm pretty sure he's on like 9 types of anxiety medication with them only SLIGHTLY working.

What makes them work is their kindness: the only time they really get mad is when Nora , trying to fake it till she makes it, lies a bunch and triggers Janice's lie allergy. How she hasn't died with all the lies FOzzy and Sam tell themselves just to function is a mystery, but it's a neat enough bit. Only putting one of their own in the hosptial pisses them off and even then once Nora pours her heart out to the band and genuinely apologizes, they quickly forgive her. It's their endless optimism that drives the series, Nora's own development, and makes the series shine despite it's faults; Just a group of people who love those around them, will help anyone without a care and will genuinely not worry.

The last part holds them back. The only time they really fight with each other is episode 7, and for understandable reasons; Floyd is upset to find out a song he thought as he and janices was about how she loves the world, which is mildly dickish but understandable when you find someone you loved and assumed you were in a realtionship with dosen't seem to care at all back, while the band as a whole aren't happy Dr. Teeth took Penny, his girlfriend at the time's , suggestion to name the band after him. It's also telling that not only did Teeth never consider himself front man despite this, but once he realizes it's an actual problem, agrees to change it to just the electric mayhem. These guys.. are family. 6 very diffrent people who found each other somehow and who will gladly welcome anyone else in. While nora takes a while to bond with her new friends and soon surrogate family, they all welcome her from minute one and when Nora ends up homeless thanks to a spat with her sister, they welcome her in. When Moog dosen't understand why he's invited on tour at the end, as while he's become the album's producer, he assumes he'll just be following them as usual, they explain as if it was the most natural thing he's part of the band now. These are kind, loving, warm protaganists who simply live to play musuic, spread good vibes. It takes the good ideas of the 60's peace movement and applies them to today: simply show kindness, welcome people in as family wether your blood related or not, rock out, and do your best. That's all you can ask. I never thought i'd be deeply moved by the electric mayhem, but i'm glad I was. While the band is still mostly a unti, each one still gets fleshed out more. Three of them get full on origin storis Animal get shis first and it's truly touching and fleshes out how Floyd is always taking care of him. What was once more just a weird sort of friendship/beast taming, becomes a father and son, a development I utterly love: As it turns out whatever stygian being birthed animal left him on Floyd's doorstep with a note to KEEP, and Floyd being a kind, welcoming sort, gladly took in the small child and made him his son and adopted him with his commonlaw husband and wife. It also shows that while everyone's worried when Animal, thinking a joke about him being replaced by a drum machine is real, quits, Floyd is devistated and badly just wants his son back.

He may be a loved part of the mayhem and a treasured family member.. but he's Floyd's kid. It's why he's spent years helping him blend with others and keeping him form eating furintirue and why Animal ultimately comes back despite being a great hibachi chef. Floyd also gets some minor spotlight in Dr. Teeth's spotlight episode: when Teeth's domeneering mom and agreeable to said mom dad show up to drag him back for the 80th time we find out Teeth was a meek dental student content to follow his mom.. but meeting Floyd in a music store and then many other times because destiny ships these two as hard as I do, Teeth realizes what makes him actually happy and while he makes his grampy's floss case into a tooth, he ultimately becomes the rock god we know. And while Floyd does have at hing for Janice, the series still makes his and Dr. Teeth's orgiin story as gay as possible in the best way possible, with it being one long allegory for one person awakening anothe'rs sexuality, down to the disaproving parents. The fact the mayhem come off like they'd be very fond of open relationships makes neither this nor Teeth's actual love intrest in the series a problem. While the whole "son has parents who want to shove him into a career" is all too common a story trope.. and a thing that really happens in real life, it works well enough here as Teeth was never in a ton of danger of actually going with them, only breifly doing it when Nora interupts his normal process for this. It's stil lhealthier he finally made amends with his parents, but it works. The more compelling bit of his backstory, beisdes all the shipping in the previous bit, is Penny. Teeth broke her heart leaving a while ago and while they quickly get back together, and we sadly just as quickly find out he has a foot thing... and we see them playing this little piggy on screen

Look am I kink shaming dr. teeth? No. What they want to do to each other is their buisness and the relationship is oddly adorable outside of this scar to my brainpan. But do I want to see a muppets gross foot while Dr. Teeth implies he's going to do sex things to it? No. I'm sure even some foot fetishests would agree. The Dalmationatrix in the happy time murders was less overtly sexual. And also way hotter, but that may be a me thing and may make my point as i'm sure many of you shuddered a bit at that statment. Point is please no more stuff like this adam f goldberg. Implied muppet sex is fine, just don't show us muppet feet. Please no. No feet pics.

I was.. talking about something. Oh yeah. The problem is Teeth left her abrubtly earlier, and he find sout during the groups' marshmellow drug trip in the dessert it's because he has commitment issues, likely DUE to said parents. Penny isn't mad he coudlnt' commit forever, just that he couldn't FOR NOW. , and Teeth realizes this just isn't healthy, not only unblocking him writers wise, but letting him be open with their relationship, which not only gets Penny off the groups back, but onto his and OH GOD....

Okay for my sanity we're moving on to Janice. We get to see more of Janice's empathetic side: while she's still as fursurely as ever, we get to see she loves trying to help other people.. and much like Steven Universe, while this isn't a bad thing on the surface, it also means she never helps herself, something only her hallucination clone can get her to realize. It is nice to see her be so supportive, realize she needs self care, and generally get to be more than just "one of the only other female muppets" and "space case". She also forms a cult when the band gets addicted to the internet. This isn't a plot twist I saw coming but is it the best thing in human history? Probably. Fursurelian for life. Hopefully I will be spared when it happens. Animals as pointed out gets his backstory, and while he has a crush on NOra very early on, he later realizes it's because they both lost parents and becomes more protective. It's adorable. Animal dosen't change much but it makes sense: Out of the mayhem Animal was easily the most used and the one who could easily show up on his own for gags. Animal is often thrown in with the core four and has shown up in just about every muppet production. He's an icon for good reason: his simple antics and shouty performance just make him loveable as all hell. This series further highlights this by making him the mayhem's youngest, esspetainlly being a hyperactive 20 something. It also posititons hima s the heart of the gorup: they can't bring themselves to play when he leaves for an episode and their breakup to make tension for the climax mostly happens because he's too exausted from his side gig to stop it, and once he wakes up and finds noras gone missing he's the one to bring everyone back together. He's the core of the group: he may be the most popular but he wouldn't be without them. They need him and he would never leave them.

Finally we have Zoot and LIps. Zoot is the blue one and Lips is the one with an afro who I frequently forget is in the band because he disappears a lot. Zoot.. really isn't fleshed out that much. He takes photos and he's forgetful. They add nothing to him. He's easily the weakest character here. He does hang out with an anthromoprhic shoe, so there's that at least. In contrast Lips goes from being often wallpaper only there when needed, to quitely one of the best parts of the show. His gags now are that he's unitellgible and despite that has a LENGTHY and epic history. He's the one who convinced Kesha to drop the $.. which also implies he helped her breka free from dr. lukes' abuse. Zoot's a good one. He's also friends with Paul Mcartney and Paula Abdul among many others. It's just a nice gag and he's geninely fun and it's used in moderation enough to not wreck the show. So the band is solid as ever. The human characters.. are a bit more hit and miss. Starting with Nora, Lily Singh does her best, and she does have a nice energy that plays off the muppets well. She's trying very hard and i'd love to see her in another production as she has clear talent. The issue really isn't her.. it's the script. Nora is written however the episode needs her:, and thus is pulled between uptight nerd whose mildly out of touch with music, hence a running gag where she sees the lyrics of rock and roll all night "and part of every day".

Other times she has a deep love of rock, having a bob marely tatoo, well knows the modern scene, and her issues come more from simply not working with what she has in the band, of trying to make them what she THINKS will sell instead of what they are, which is a metaphor for how disney has treated the muppets and many ips at time if ever there was one. The latter just works better, and it's when it dips too far into one end or the other of her being uptight or into rock where it falters and singh can often come off stiff.. because I supsect she really dosen't know what this character feels. If the writers don't know who nora is how can the audience or the person playing her? Nora is supposed to be a major pillar of the series.. but the writers refusal to give her depth despite trying to plaster it on with her having had to raise her sister or her type a personality means the character flails next to the better defined muppets. It also dosen't help her most major human costar.. is given a more consitent and intresting character. Moog is easily the highlight of the show shuman caast, with Taj Mowry given way more to work with. Moog's character isn't super deep, but has just enough depth to work well: he intitially comes off as simply a fanboy, constantly asking Nora to look at his demo like any struggling musician.. but as the episodes go on we get to know him better. We see like any good fan the band mean a ton to him and his friendship with them is genuine: while he's a massive fan of theirs, they treat him with respect like they woudl anyone, gladly bond with him and are thankful he's there for him. IN turn he gets the band in a way Nora dosen't and part of her best moments is having him as contrast: he tells her very early on she simply dosen't have to posture because the band are the most acepting people. His best stuff comes in episode 5: while nora desperatelyt ries to get the band to make a "new sound", he gets angry.. but it's not fan entitlmeent as Nora thinks.. but because he's taken the time to actually listen. He get stheir sound and when nora finally listens to his demo.. she realizes, eventually at least, that his sound actually bridges their 70 vibes to modern production. He has real talent, and a real love for the band. We also get what I feel is one of the best seens for singh as a result: nora pouring over old footage as she goes from someone simply seeing the band as her next step.. to being a mayhead herself and knowing how to finally help them to their best. The show needed more of this, having nora as a symbol of a coprrate present.. and shedding that to be more herself, someone who really knows music and opens up.

Moog does take a hard nosedive in the last few episodes though. It starts to peak through when he gets jealous of Nora's ex jj and tricks him into bringing up the name thing, nearly breaking up the band.. but in the last two it really gets bad. Instead of telling Nora how he feels.. .he sulks in the background as she gets back together with human carpet, then blames her for the band's breakup because... she told them what the internet was. Which is something most acts need to know. They breakup because they all get hooked on various internet based things and because the writers forgot to write an actual reason for conflict and had to make something up fast. The romance with him and nora genuinely isn't bad at first: he has a crush on her, btu refuses to act on it because he needs this gig and she needs this to go well. It's when they make it love triangle stuff and turn him into a mopey dickhead who almost dosen't try to get the band back together till she apologzes, a band full of people who GENUINELY love him and see him as one of them that he genuinely loves and worships. Mowry does his best but like with singh when the material isn't great.. what can he honestly do. If behaviors bad enough an actor can make it hilarous or add a smuch depth as they can. But when all your given is a big spoonful of cliche, you can only do so much. i've hinted at the human embodiment of the color beige enough, let's talk about JJ. JJ is a character I think the right actor could've hammed up enough to be tolerable. Anders Holm by contrast is a guy who tends to paly his roless subtler. As such former bagle boy for waxtown and now rich tech bro is just... annoyingly bland. He shows up to try and buy wax town to win Nora back and just kinda shows up. He adds nothing to the plot. And look i'm someone who tries to not go too hard on actors in these reviews... but you could see the but coming from a mile away couldn't you? Anders Holm.. is awful in this. He tries, he does, but he's horribly cast. JJ needed someone with enough energy to make the bad writing on the character passible, someone who can really nail the "tech bro whose secretly just trying to be one because it's the kind of guy his ex wanted" charcter. Instead he's just the bland romantic false lead from every 90's film and romcom. Singh sometimes has weak material but does her best with it and that I can admire but Holm, even acounting for his character being supleforous at best is just so agressively bland it adds nothing.

What's extra annoying is that Ben Schwartz, who is an EXPERT at playing people with huge egos in suits, it's how his career started.

Is instead left to just one episode working as Animal's job counsler. He's brilliant at it, deadpanning perfectly to Animal.. which begs the question why he wasn't given the part: At the time of this writing he isn't a regular on any live action or animated shows, he's experinced at the part and that small cameo showed he can play really well off the muppet JJ ends up interacting with the most. The result is a character who just sucks all the energy out when he's around. He's ONLY there for a very pointless love triangle no one asked for that goes EXACTLY how you'd expect with no varations toit. The idea they present in episode 7, that JJ became what he is to impress her is intresting.. but they do nothing with it and he spends the whole series as this bland cypher. You question why Nora's remotely intrested beyond "because the plot says she should be", and she suddenly moves back in with him. And he then easily blows it beause he dosen't understand why maybe the person whose dad died and mom impliclty abandoned her would bond with a band whose family. JJ just sucks, and he ends up making Moog suck as Moog spends the last two episodes moping and whining because Nora dosen't like him back when he NEVER TOLD HER. He did for good reason, this is his one shot and opportunity comes once in a life time, but it soon devolves into crap. It's the one part I genuinely hate about the series. Finally human wise we have Nora's sister, Hannah. Hannah is a character that didn't need to be in nearly as much of the series as she did. She's not bad, Saara does a decent enough job and unlike JJ the characters layers are explored well: Hannah took her sister in and let her stay on her couch.. but gets annoyed that her relationship with Nora has turned into all take and no give: Nora brings up raising Hannah after their father died and mother impliclty abandoned them a lot, and tends to put her wants over Hannah's, and is not so subtly jealous Hannah has easily reached what she wants in life, fame as an influencer, while Nora struggles and struggles and is only now getting anywhere. It feels like a real sibling conflict and the two actresses have good chemistry. It's just after Janice patches things up with the two... Hannah is reduced to influencer jokes. Once the series doesn't' really need her instead of writing the character off or finding something for her to do with the album, like I dunno work on costumes since she's shown changing costumes for her videos to pretend to be in fancy locales, or be the team's image consultant, she's just kinda there. While JJ is stapled onto the story to pad time Hannah is weirdly disconnected despite being vital to Nora's character and having plenty of ways she could be woven into it. A triangle between her, Hannah and Moog would've made WAY more sense. Instead Hannah is just there for the rest of the series.

Finally we have Penny. Penny is a great addition, being hilariously curmudgeonly and making a decent antagonist for the first half of the series without being overwrought: she hates the mayhem but doesn't actively impede them as she correctly figures win or loose, she get something out of it: the album actually happens, her protégé gets a win and she gets money. It fails, her ex falls flat on it's face and she just finishes selling the business like she was going to. Her relationship with Dr. Teeth is also genuinely sweet... I still did not need to know.. things, but it is nice and she slowly warms up to Nora, by the end ditching her vacation with Dr. Teeth to go help the band find her and willingly turning the business over to her.

Cameo wise the series is utterly stacked, with my co-pilot for this series, @jess-the-vampire often wondering how they got all these people. As it turned out from an interview most of it was just "Hey you want to be in muppets" "Done" "But I haven't even told you what you'll be doin.." "I SAID DONE". And thankfully for more Muppets tend to cast a wide generational net so there was only a few acts that had me going

Mostly confined to episode 2's cameos for Zedd and Sophia Carson. Otherwise it's filled to the absolute rim with great cameos. So just rattling off my faviorite in no paticular chronological order we have: The aformentioned bit with Ben Schwartz, Kesha showing up to jam with the band when Nora's trying to find someone to produce the album, Danny Trejo showing up in episode one for one of the best bits of the series as the band paints his house thinking it's theres and later warming to them saying "Those guys painted my house. And according to Bill Danny is apparently the easiest cameo to get and it's why he's become a muppet's regular himself at this point and it's easy to see why. Also really game was my boy Kevin Smith, who naturally was more than willing to take shots at himself, refering to himself as a one star director and letting them take a shot at yoga hosers, which I haven't seen, and god willing never will. He even gets to , as Dr. Teeth puts it be "Silent bob saying something meaningful at the end of the film. " We also get a nice Peter Jackson cameo that as I said confirms meet the feebles is canon to the muppets. How Goldberg got away with that I GENINELY have no idea. And in a long overdue team up we get Weird motherfucking Al Motherfucking Yankovic who appears to Floyd to tell him to stop being such a perfectionist.. and to remind him that yes, Al does more than parodies that criticism is fucking old please stop. Other great cameos include James Hong as Dan, the chef who declares Animal the Chosen one, Joe Lo Trugilo as a Mo Cap Maestro the band works with for their minecraft concert, Charlamange Tha God as himself interviewing the band when they have their contrived penultimate episode amicable breakup, Cedric Yarborugh as a cop who pulls the band over for holding up traffic, Tommy Lee as a walking STD, and most entertainingly Jack McBrayer, Rachel Bloom, Riki Lindholme and Nicole Beyer, always a highlight, all showing up as the heads of various fan armies when Dr. Teeth's autocorrect pisses off all of music.

So with that there's one last bit of business.. and frankly if your going to do a show about the world's greatest muppet band.. it's one of the most important

All of Us Are Winnin, Pickin and a Grinnin, Lordy But I Love to Jam The music was always going to be the thing that either made the series or ruined it for me. Can You Picture That? Is one of my faviorite muppet songs, and as the Mayhem's only original song up to this series it left some VERY big shoes to fill. I mean it's hard to go up against music legend paul williams and their VERY lucky Beef wasn't involved or they'd of been screwed.

Luckily Disney brought in someone every bit Paul Williams equal, which is a sentence I rarely get to say: Micheal Gicchano, composer supreme best known for his jazzy as fuck scores for the incredibles, who got the band's style perfectly. With a 70's style groove that perfectly fits the band's vibe and most songs picked being along those lines. Paul Williams would be proud and probably is atop his magical cloud castle. As a result most of the original songs on the soundtrack are damn good and the covers are great. So let's run through them in order of appearance shall we? Rock On is the series theme and at first I wasn't a huge fan mostly because it sounded a lot like a sitcom theme. Eventually though I got over myself and asked the eternal question

It's still one of the weaker tracks as a song but as an opening it sums the band up decently, has a nice beat and is chopped up decently. I realize now they didn't do the obvious and use can you picture that as it's both hard to get to theme song length, and because it's such an icon it'd overshadow everything else. Rock On is a message that this show is still the mayhem but it's something new with them, and it's still damn groovy. Not the best song ever, i've seen better tv theme songs, but a solid enough one that really worms it's way into your brain.

The first song in the show proper, Rock and Roll All nite is a fine enough cover, it's just Dr. Teeth's vocal's weren't quite the best choice for this and they didn't really change the song any to fit his vocals. To contrast this to another mayhem cover, the band did a truly awesome one of Dancin in the Moonlight for Muppets Haunted Mansion. While that song also has a softer vocal track on the original, they balanced it by having Floyd do the voice and leaving Dr. Teeth for the chorus where his croakier style fits better. Neither's vocals are bad, it's just like any band you have to match them to the song or it turns out okay at best.

So i've spent two straight songs complaining, let's get some positivity back in here. The show's version of Can You Picture that is still damn awesome, letting the current performers for the Mayhem (Zoot excepted as he STILL has the same performer) jam to their greatest song. The lyrics are fun, bouncy, and really fit the band. Do they make a lick of sense? not entirely. Are they fun and get across the vibe of a bunch of people making music? Yes.

Finally for episode 1 , we have Have a Little Faith In Me, the joe cocker classic which the band utterly nails and emotionally, shatters me in show as it was the song Nora's dad sang to her.. and the band sing it for her as thanks for giving them a shot. It's a nice moment, her finally convinced to hang in there with them, as she realizes the true magic of the mayhem and Bill Baretta's vocals are absolutely perfect. Unlike Rock N Roll All Night, Teeth's rough vocals PERFECTLY fit this song.

Next we have episode 2's finale true colors, this time lead by Janice who has a shockingly great singing voice and the tenderness of this version really hits as the Band let Nora know she can be herself. It's the heart of these songs that really works: While True Colors has been used 998 times in the history of film and tv, it's used here not because "Well it pulls the heart strings" and more because it naturally fits the moment.. while also doing that previously mentioned thing.

The next song is a bit of a joke, as Zedd makes a song with the mayhem and sofia carson they gave to her. It's funny enough, nothing great music wise, but it's made to be played over the radio and even the album version lasts exactly a minute.

Next is Bridge Over Troubled Water, a song I honestly haven't heard a ton. While I absolutely love Paul Simon, I prefer his post garfunkel works. Especially when they involve muppets.

It perfectly meshes with both the flashback to Animal and Nora turning up to stay with the Mayhem. One of the best tracks on the album.

We have a nice montage of the band trying to do diffrent versions of Rockin Robin. I'm disapointed we never finished Ziggy Marley's but hey, what happened with him and janice. I get it man. I get it.

We get a very nice cover of God Only Knows to show Moog knows what he's doing but what makes it work is it's paried with a truly stiring montage of the mayhem's history as Nora dives into it and finally really gets the band. Truly moving stuff.

Gonna Get There is a decent enough montage song, the first new song from the band in canon. It's pretty okay, mostly saved by the vocals.

Thankfully next episode makes up for it: Capping off what's already one of the best episodes of the season, we've got Gotta Be. Gotta Be has both one of the best performances but also just one of the best beats, being the kind of funky newmanesque groove that really fits the band, sung as Floyd convinces Teeth to be himself. It's one that not only perfectly fits the message of the band, but the uprorarusly joyful performance at the dental confrence is truly great. Baretta and Vogel play off each other perfectly, getting to do a full on deut and it's as awesome as it sounds. It's easily my faviorite song on the soundtrack.

Naturally the only way to follow this up.. is another cover. This time though it's of the freaking beatles, and frankly All You Need Is Love fits the band so perfectly, I don't see what else they could've gone with, especailly after an episode long homage to the documentary get back.

We Are One is another awesome 70's jam band style song, with the gang singing for unity and succesfully uniting the fan armies. It once again let's vogel vocally jam as Floyd, and there's a damn good reason they ping pong between him and Bill or both unite: they both have great vocals, and it gives the band a nice range. It's why the rock and roll all nite cover sticks out: it would've been better in Matt's hands.

So we're to the final episode as the band has seperated, hence no song for episode 9, and our first is the sound of us, another fun jam band style as Animal brings the band back together. It's perfect for a montage but far less bland Gonna Get There.

There's a fun cover of Join Together as they find Nora that once again fits the band. It feels like post poilot Goldberg and co realized what fit the band better and from that point on every song fits their style perfectly.

WE then get to the band's climactic hollywood bowl performance, belivie in us which is just.. beautiful. A joyous, uplifting celebration that fits everything perfectly and is exactly what you'd hope for. A nice power ballad using both baretta and vogel perfectly and incredibly well suited for Baretta's scratchy teeth vocals.

On Our Way is a nice U2 style song to finish out the song as the band sings us out. It's a good way to close the series and it's only real issue is that Janice, Teeth and Floyd's vocals don't really work together for the chorus. Janice might of been better left off the chorus but the bits between it are so well done, it dosen't matter.

Can You Even Find It? So we have one last odd to clean up.. so I guess it's also an end.

I WAS going to do an episode guide like i normally do.. but realized as I went that in addition to this review taking a very long time as is, I had already commented on most episode based things I wanted to as I went. So this section is more just for the bits I haven't talked about. The first is the only muppet characters besides the band and Penny, Dr. Teeth's parents. Their honestly fairly entertaining his mom going a mile a minute and not seeming to get her son is super succesful, as well as her passive agressive hate of floyd ("Maam") before finally coming around to her sons music and sexuality, while her husband always agreeing with a yup while being treated in charge works. I'ts nothing really new, but their in the episode just enough for the gag to not outstay it's welcome.

The second.. is less fun. The last two episodes.. are a complete mess. The episode before this foreshadows it: it's not a bad episode. The simple idea of the band getting online and autocorrect causing them to accidently pick a fight with every fandom in music is comedy gold. It just has some age signs like having a concert in a video game, something that still happens but not nearly as high profile as it once did, and the game being minecraft, which while I havent' played a ton is a game I like and my nephews and nieces adore, is a weird choice and feels like it was the only one that said yes or disney signed off on. I mean I don't want the muppets anywhere near fortnite, but it's not something minecraft's ever done and dosen't feel like enough of a joke to work. Or maybe it's just me

The last two eps though.. are not great. They have great moments and some good gags, but feel contrived: the band get hooked on various side projects. The side projects themselves are mostly entertaining, with only Teeth's (doing a spicy food tasting channel with penny ala hot ones) not really landing: We get Floyd getting hooked on jingle writing and soon having a jingle empire with Kristian Schaal as his assitant in the span of a week, Lips doing a ted talk, which while not the best ted talk gag of all time, this is..

Is still harmless enough, Zoot getting into photography and forgetting nora exists, Animal getting big on tiktok by scratching himself, and my personal faviorite: Janice starts a cult. It starts with just having people follow her, slowly escalates, and she has a full on compound by the time Nora tries to bring her back into the fold.

The problem is it feels like the band breaks up, if as ambicably as expected, simply to have drama. They likewise don't listen to nora or she can't get to them. It feels like padding to get to ten episodes, especially when episode 7 has a far better reason than "because the internet", the name issue, for them to break up. We also get Moog bitching and moaning because nora "broke up the band" because.. she told the mayhem about the internet.

The actual finale at the hollywood bowl is great, as is them coming to get nora, but the road there feels like they ran out of ideas for this seasons overarching plot and just came up with something quick instead of just finding something weird to fill the space instead.

So with that we've come to the end of the road. The Muppets Mayhem is a promising first step for a new era of the muppets: it proves both a muppets production with a reduced cast can work and be pretty awesome, with lots of great gags, fantastic music and a nice heart. It just needs to either flesh out the humans better or focus more on what we came for, and rely less on stock plots the muppets have never really needed to play so straight. Also fire JJ, out of a canon.. into the sun. That'd be great. The pieces for Muppets greatness are there, they just need to get the bugs worked out of the felt. Still after a decade of no major productions, this is a very nice welcome back and hopefully the start of something fresh for the muppets. And I can certainly picture that. Thanks for reading Next Month: Daddy Daddy, take us underground as we're Returning to the Labyrinth!

#the muppets mayhem #electric mayhem #animal #dr teeth #floyd pepper #janice #zoot #lips #nora singh #hannah singh #moog #bill baretta #adam f goldberg #Youtube

[eurovision-revisited]

Eurovision 2002 - Number 30 - Rūta Lukoševičiūtė - "Hello"

Eurovizijos Atranka 2002 was only the third Lithuanian national final and already it has developed its own, idiosyncratic style. It's refreshingly varied, with acts you just wouldn't find in other national finals - even if the quality of those acts is patchy.

An example of this is perennial Lithuanian hopeful Rūta Lukoševičiūtė. 2002 is her second attempt after falling well short in 2001. After this she tried three more times throughout the 2000s, and after that, she turned to songwriting with more entries in the early 2010s. She's famous not so much for singing but writing, voicing and presenting Lithuania's premier comedy hidden camera show VRS Kamera.

Hello demonstrates her raspy singing style and laconic stage presence, with tale of a man who likes living by himself just fine. He's so OK with his mess, solitary life that he's reluctant to answer Rūta's incessant phone calls. Just let him be Rūta! It's a simple song delivered in an arresting magenta ensemble that would be hectoring if it weren't for the mid-1990s guitar setting that lends an accelerating intensity and allows us to feel that we're going somewhere. It's fun and even if the build doesn't quite get there, the air of light-hearted criticism and complaint feels distinctly British.

Given her long history of entering Eurovizijos Atranka and writing songs for it, Rūta Lukoševičiūtė may well appear again in my top 48s, although the fifth place finish that this song achieved is her best result in the national final by quite some margin. She did release an album off the back of this songs and also took part in other music festivals around Europe including in Italy and Türkiye

#Youtube #esc #esc 2002 #eurovision #eurovision song contest #tallinn #tallinn 2002 #national finals #Lithuania #Eurovizijos Atranka 2002 #Rūta Lukoševičiūtė

[edgeofn1ght]

Hiya, dear friend! 🧡

Sorry, I’m a bit late but if you’re still doing prompts, may I request numbers 3 & 14, please? You can pick one or combine them! 😊

Have a wonderful week! 💖

ROSIE!!!! Hello, my dear. Well, I finally finished it. I'm sorry once again that it took so long (I know what you will say 🧡). Anyway, I hope you will enjoy it. 😊

The prompts were "whispering to each other and holding each other's gaze"

they've danced around their feelings long enough • obikin • 3.8k words

_____________________

Obi-Wan stood at his room's full-length mirror, tugging at the cuffs of his jacket, pulling the fabric down to his wrists to make sure the sleeves covered the shirt underneath. He was used to wearing layers – he'd done so almost his entire life – but this was quite different from what he was accustomed to. For one thing, it wasn’t his, so it didn’t fit as comfortably as it could have, and certainly not as comfortably as his usual attire. 

Both he and Anakin had been given complete ensembles by the Minister’s staff after being informed their Jedi attire ‘wouldn’t cut it,’ and not having brought dress clothes on their mission wasn’t going to be an excuse to not attend the evening’s banquet – much to his vexation. But considering he and Anakin were among the guests of honor for their work in the planet’s recently-completed peace negotiations… he supposed that was fair.

Despite his misgivings, the clothing was beautiful and finer than anything he ever owned or worn – particularly the coat. It was a deep, rich purple with gold brocade decorating much of the edges. It fell mid-thigh over slim-fitting breeches which he tucked into his own boots. If only everything had been slightly larger, it would have been perfect. But he could suffer a small outfit and extended social interaction for an evening with the promise of good food and drinks.

And having Anakin at his side.

They had not been on a diplomatic mission together for months, each constantly sent in their own direction as needs of the war dictated. Anakin wasn’t exactly sent with him this time either, but as Obi-Wan prepared his ship for take off, the younger man surprisingly rushed into the hangar and joined him on board. Obi-Wan protested weakly, surely Anakin had other things to attend to rather than going on some peace negotiations with his old master, but Anakin didn’t leave and he was secretly glad to have him. 

As it turned out, Anakin left most all of the negotiations to Obi-Wan anyway – as he was wont to do – then protested long and loud against going to the banquet. That was, until they received their evening wear then he quickly inexplicably changed his mind. Even now Obi-Wan still didn’t know why, but at least he wouldn’t be subject to complaints about it all night.

However, Obi-Wan still wished to complain. He had been looking forward to resting for the remainder of the evening when the negotiations concluded in the early afternoon, but that was clearly not to be. 

Well, at least he wouldn’t be alone. 

He pulled at the lapels of his coat one last time, making minute adjustments as he stared at himself in the mirror. It gave him some comfort knowing Anakin would be forced to suffer through his own set of dress clothes. He might have also been a bit secretly pleased that they were very similar to each other in style and complementary in color – as if chosen for a couple.

Which they most certainly weren’t. But the thought that they could be mistaken as such did strange things to Obi-Wan’s insides that he didn’t want to examine right now. 

“How am I supposed to eat or dance in this when I can barely raise my arm??” Obi-Wan turned quickly at the sound of Anakin barging into the room. He was pulling and tugging at the cuffs and sleeves of his own coat. If it was possible, his coat looked even more snug on him than Obi-Wan’s own, but somehow it still fit. 

Anakin strode over, never making eye contact and stepped around Obi-Wan to stand in front of the mirror. He pulled at the rather frilly shirt underneath and adjusted the knot that was tied at his throat. Obi-Wan just stood there and watched him, then raked his gaze across and down  Anakin’s back, appreciating the way the dark teal material clung to his biceps and stretched taut across his shoulder blades. As if suddenly possessed, he reached out and smoothed his hand across the top of Anakin’s shoulders. Anakin looked up and they made eye contact in the mirror. 

“Apologies,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat and took a single step backwards. “Just smoothing out the fabric.”

Anakin silently watched Obi-Wan in the reflection then turned to face him. “But really, Obi-Wan… this jacket seems a little tight?” Anakin raised his left arm to barely shoulder height before he could move it no further. Obi-Wan chuckled. 

“Mine is a bit, too,” he replied as he leaned in to adjust his own necktie. If he had been less aware, he might have missed the way Anakin watched him in the mirror’s reflection. But he didn’t and decided to tuck that away for later.

“That color suits you,” Anakin finally added. Obi-Wan smiled. He wanted to comment on how the teal of Anakin’s coat made his eyes bluer, but it felt almost like the wrong thing to say. 

“Are we ready to go then? I’m starving,” Anakin continued, the quiet and strange moment thankfully passing.

#

The soiree was filled with good food and drinks, just as promised, but Obi-Wan found himself alone quite often. Which he hadn't expected. Well, not so much alone as Anakin-less. Obi-Wan had watched in amusement over the course of the dinner at how the Minister's twin adult children took a shine to his former padawan, and ever since, they took turns pulling Anakin around the banquet hall talking and laughing. 

Obi-Wan's time was then unfortunately monopolized by the Minister as well as members of his cabinet and various other high-ranking officials and senators but he found his attention always making its way back to Anakin. Who was more of a natural at negotiations than he let on, complaining and feigning ignorance so Obi-Wan would do most of the work. But he seemed to be enjoying himself, and he couldn't remember the last time Anakin had looked so easily happy. And that made Obi-Wan happy. 

#

The evening wore on, and feasting and talking gave way to dancing. The hall became a bustle of activity as the floor was cleared and a small ensemble entered and began warming up. Obi-Wan was a decently proficient dancer, but he didn’t want to be pulled into the fray – he much preferred to watch in these situations. Perhaps instead he could slip away onto the patio for some cool, fresh air. At least there he could clear his head and not think about Anakin, where his thoughts had been drifting all evening. 

He watched the couples make their way to the center of the room and caught a glimpse of Anakin being pulled onto the dance floor by the Minister’s son. Truthfully, he expected him to disappear as well – he never took too much to dancing, ever since he was a padawan, even though he was decent at it. He used to spend their lessons complaining and stepping all over Obi-Wan’s feet, but eventually he did make progress so now only the complaining remained. But from Obi-Wan’s vantage point near the drinks table, it seemed even the complaining was gone now, too. 

Anakin was actually smiling as the Minister's son positioned them for the first dance. He held their hands out to the side then placed Anakin's right hand on his shoulder, then moved his left hand to Anakin's waist. And Obi-Wan gripped the glass of champagne he had been holding slightly tighter. 

Obi-Wan watched the pair as they deftly maneuvered around all the other couples in the hall when the music began, twirling and stepping lightly. He held onto Anakin tightly, hand resting mid-back then slowly he began sliding it down until it rested on the small of Anakin's back, possibly lower – it was hard to tell with the long, dark coat he wore. But it made something stir deep in Obi-Wan's chest… something unsavory he had been trying to ignore all evening. He furrowed his brow, a deep frown line appearing between his eyebrows, as he downed his champagne in one swig. He set the glass back down on the table, harder than he intended, and winced. Then picked up another glass.

Halfway through the piece, Obi-Wan stepped away from the table to the open archways to get some air. It was a balm against his too-warm skin. He wished desperately to go back to their suite of rooms. He wanted to get away from the fakery of the politicians (and apparently their children, too(. He needed to meditate and focus on the control of his emotions even though he wasn't quite ready to confront what he was feeling now for Anakin.  

He couldn't. 

A gentle breeze suddenly blew in, ruffling the decorative curtains and lifting the hair away from his face for merely a moment, but it was enough for some relief. 

"There you are." Obi-Wan froze. That voice, as familiar to him as his own and infinitely more dear, had grown deeper over the years, but could still be just as soft as it once was. And even though barely a day went by when they didn't speak to each other, the timbre could still catch him off guard. 

He took another sip of his drink and turned around. The soft golden lighting in the dance hall made his skin glow, and the exertion of dancing in a warm room filled with many bodies, pinked his high cheekbones handsomely. His wavy hair gently tousled by the gentle breeze made him even more lovely than usual. When had he become so beautiful?

"Anakin.” 

"I've been looking for you," his face softened. He was just dancing, enjoying himself. He should still be doing so, not following after his old master.

Obi-Wan straightened up, pulling on the lapel of his own dark jacket. "For me? And why is that? Aren't you enjoying yourself?"

Anakin looked down and scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "Oh I don't know, it's all right, I guess. But you don't seem like you're enjoying yourself too much."

Obi-Wan huffed, "I found the drinks, I assure you I am enjoying myself." Then surprisingly, Anakin took the glass from Obi-Wan’s hand and placed it on the tray of a passing waiter.

"Well, I think you could have a little more fun," he reached out for Obi-Wan’s hand and took it in his own, interlacing their fingers. His glove was soft and warm, the warmth no doubt coming from his previous dance partner where they had held hands for so long. He tried not to think about it as Anakin tightened his grip and pulled him back inside towards the center of the room.

As the opening notes of the Alderaanian Waltz began playing, Anakin set them in the opening stance – just like Obi-Wan had taught him all those years ago. He placed his left hand low on Obi-Wan’s waist and held his right hand out to the side, holding his hand tightly. Obi-Wan's eyes widened when he pulled him closer, their bodies now mere centimeters from each other. He just hoped Anakin couldn't feel his heart thumping in his chest.

As they began to dance, Anakin locked eyes with him, and try as he might, he couldn't look away. 

In those long moments as they danced, it was like time had stopped, and Obi-Wan only knew Anakin. The feeling of him in his arms, the weight of his own hands and arms as they rested on Anakin's shoulder and in his hand. They had practiced this dance so often when Anakin was younger, it was no surprise now that they knew each other’s movements so well. What was surprising was that Anakin never looked away once, not at the couples around them, not down at his feet, not around the room or his former dancing partner. His dark blue eyes were fixed only on Obi-Wan. As Obi-Wan’s were fixed on him. 

He wanted to blame the warmth in his chest on all the alcohol he had consumed, but he was feeling staggeringly sober. And anyway, the warmth was too strong, too deep, and he'd felt this way too long. 

He loved Anakin. Of course he did. He'd loved him for a very long time. 

But now that love had shifted and changed and developed into something slightly different. 

He found himself also in love with him.

Obi-Wan blinked and finally tore his gaze away, feet slightly catching underneath and he stumbled. But Anakin kept him upright. 

"Master," Anakin smirked. "You missed a step. I can't believe you of all people…"

Obi-Wan tightened his grip on Anakin's hand, "Yes, well, it happens." He cleared his throat and looked around again, wondering when the waltz would end. 

He turned back to Anakin who was still watching him as they continued the dance. He suddenly felt Anakin's warmth brush gently against their bond, and realized, too, that even physically they were pressed even closer together now. 

"Are you okay, Obi-Wan?" Anakin asked, leaning in close and whispering in his ear. The heat of Anakin’s breath on his cheek was intoxicating. 

He tried to pull back, but Anakin didn’t let him get too far. His gaze flicked between Anakin’s eyes then down to his lips before he even realized what he was doing. "I'm fine. Just perhaps... uncomfortable in this too-tight coat." 

"Hmmm," Anakin hummed as he twirled them around twice. "Well, isn't our job done for the evening?" 

Obi-Wan had been thinking of his room for hours now –  to go back and rest, meditate, read, or just enjoy the view from his balcony.  But now the thought of going back to their suite filled him with slight trepidation.

"Obi-Wan,” he said gently, trying to pull Obi-Wan out of his head. But Anakin's gaze was too soft, too knowing, and it felt as if he could read his thoughts. He had heard this waltz enough to know they were nearing the end, and Anakin twirled them through it with ease –  just like Obi-Wan had taught him. He couldn't help but smile a little. 

"What is it? Tell me what you're thinking for once."

Obi-Wan had looked away at the other couples in the room, but turned his attention back to the man who still held him. "I was just thinking of when I taught you this dance. Watching you all night has…" he trailed off, suddenly aware that he shouldn't have even started that sentence. 

The music finally stopped and so did they, and Anakin released him from his hold as they clapped for the musicians. But he was still watching him. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly in a wry grin, "You've been watching me all night?"

"Anakin, that's not–" he was cut off again by the sudden appearance of the Minister's daughter who grabbed Anakin's elbow and spun him towards her. 

"I hope you've saved a dance for me!" She huffed. She quickly glanced at Obi-Wan with something akin to disdain. Well, that could be his exit. He bowed slightly to her, remaining silent, and turned to head off the floor. Away from the couples, the next dance, and Anakin. 

#

Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief at the blissful quietude of their suite of rooms. All he could hear now was a gentle melody floating out above the very low cacophony of the gathering. He pulled off his boots then struggled out of his coat, which felt like it had gotten tighter over the course of the evening. Next he untied the knot at his throat then cast both items over the end of his bed. He removed his shirt and trousers and dropped them on the floor as he made his way towards his small balcony where he had left the door slightly ajar. He breathed deeply, feeling some of the tension slip away just by being out of those clothes. Now in nothing but his smallclothes, the night air hit and cooled him a little too quickly, raising small chill bumps on his arms. 

He probably should have said good evening to the hosts and other guests, but he hadn’t felt like it then – he just wanted to get to his room as quickly as possible. 

Perhaps Anakin would make excuses for him. Like he had done so often for his former padawan. It really was the least he could do. 

He stared into the middle distance, transfixed, as the small villa's lights twinkled on the lake. He shivered once more when a stiff breeze blew through the crack in the door – a good reminder to dress and go to bed. 

He closed and latched the door then turned and found Anakin standing in his bedroom doorway.

"Anakin!" He startled, then crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to cover up. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so bothered, they had seen each other in varying states of undress plenty of times before, but this time felt wildly different. It might have been comical in any other circumstance but tonight when his emotions felt too raw, he was failing to see the humor. 

Anakin stepped further inside, and even though the room was very dimly lit, he could see something like intent in his gaze. He grabbed his sleep pants from where they laid across the back of the chair in front of the balcony window, and as he put them on, Anakin came even closer. 

"You left," he said as he began to take off his own coat. 

Obi-Wan shrugged, "I was tired."

His eyes tracked the movement as Anakin threw his coat on top of Obi-Wan’s on the end of the bed then as he attempted to untie the knot at his own neck. "You left without saying anything. To the Minister, to his children, the senators– " he stopped, leaving 'to me' unspoken.

He stood and watched as Anakin struggled with the knot. When he began to recognize frustration, he closed the gap and reached out for Anakin's neck. "Here, let me." Anakin lifted his chin, exposing his throat.

"You were watching me all night?" Anakin asked again. Obi-Wan tried to focus on the necktie, but it was difficult not to watch the way his throat bobbed when he spoke.

He couldn’t avoid the question any longer. "Well… not all night.” It was a half truth, but a truth nonetheless. It was hard not to watch him though – he was taller than most others in the hall to begin with. And he looked happy for a change, even when the minister’s children were taking up all his time. He could have settled on the fact that it was easy to keep tabs on him because of his height, but no. “It's difficult not to really, you always shine so much brighter than everyone else in the room, even outside the Force." Which was something he just said out loud instead.

He carefully avoided Anakin's gaze now but he could feel himself flush under the heat of it. Maybe he could blame it on the champagne. 

“There,” he said as he let the ends of the tie drop to Anakin’s chest. He took a single step back before he did something he’d regret, then met his gaze once again. “It was nice to see all those lessons in the old great hall weren’t a complete waste of time anyway. Maybe you did learn something from me after all.” He smiled softly, suddenly melancholy. 

Anakin furrowed his brow, “What? Are you– I mean, of course--!” He turned and ran a hand through his hair. Obi-Wan took the break in tension to move back towards the chair and grab his sleep tunic, while Anakin yanked his own shirt and undershirt off, dropping them on the floor where he stood. He watched him as he stalked back and forth across the room until he stopped in front of the fireplace and raised one arm to lean against the mantel. 

Obi-Wan slipped on his tunic and waited for Anakin to do or say something. It was times like this when he wished he knew what he was thinking. “I assumed you’d stay downstairs longer – you seemed to be having fun.”

Anakin turned to look at him. “You clearly weren’t.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “Anakin, you really don’t need to be worried about me. I can entertain myself.”

“Well, what if I wanted you there?” 

Before he could stop himself, he asked, “Did you?”

He turned away from the fire and walked back over to where Obi-Wan still stood. “You're the master of changing the subject, you know that?" Obi-Wan chuckled, knowing Anakin was right, but still not wanting to give him ground in it. "Why were you watching me all night?"

He sighed now and put his hands on his hips. "I did answer you."

Anakin stopped not three feet from where Obi-Wan stood. "That wasn't really an answer."

"Anakin, this is ridic–" he began but never finished the thought when suddenly Anakin's mouth was on his. The heady feeling of warm, soft lips combined with the taste of champagne and jogun fruit drove every single thought from his mind. He closed his eyes and melted into the kiss when he felt a warm hand come up to cup his jaw. 

It took him a few moments to catch up with the fact that Anakin was kissing him. And he was doing nothing to stop it. On the contrary, he was quite enjoying it. But when he suddenly felt two strong hands slip under his tunic and settle on his waist, he pulled back, but not away. 

"Anakin…"

Anakin brought his head forward and rested his forehead against his own. "Obi-Wan…" he sighed, his eyes still closed. 

Anakin dragged his thumbs slowly back and forth across the exposed skin above his waistband. The touch was achingly gentle and Obi-Wan didn't want to move or say anything that would interrupt the quiet moment. A quiet moment that he never dared to imagine.

"I love you," Anakin broke the silence first and pulled back to look at Obi-Wan. He looked so sincere and earnest, but also apprehensive. 

"I meant what I said when I said you always shine the brightest," Obi-Wan replied after a moment. "You always have. And I couldn't look away because I didn't want to miss one moment of being able to just watch you and see you happy. Even if I wasn't on the receiving end of it. But also because… well, I love you, too."

A grin slowly spread across Anakin’s face and he wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. "Now kiss me like you mean it."

Obi-Wan chuckled as he leaned in again, "So bossy."

"You already knew that."

"I did," Obi-Wan smiled then kissed him again, pouring all the love and longing into it that he could muster.

#happy monday my dear #my writing #asks #obikin #prompts #more fluff #canon divergence #obi wan x anakin

[goddamnwebcomics]

Ranked from Best to Worst: Webcomics of Goddamn Webcomics (2023 Edition)

I made this ranking three years ago originally, but now that I've come back, before I start the next set of riffs, I should probably update my rankings. Thanks to @tjimmy1999 for giving me the idea.

0. Gene Catlow

Gene Catlow is completely uncomparable to any other webcomic I've riffed. It's probably the most unique piece of media I've ever seen. It has so many aspects in it that are fucking awful and horrible and terrible, but it also has just as many redeeming aspects. I am glad I came back to riff it to the end because what I riffed before the previous ranking was just the tip of the iceberg. Until another comic like it drops into my view, it will be uncomparable to anything else, completely outside the ranking as this fascinating piece of work that everybody needs to read for themselves.

Alien Dice

Alien Dice is my number one pick for the best comic I've riffed, but it's not really the best because of its content but because it does the bare minimum to be decent. It has likable protagonists, decent world building and it has an engaging story that can pace between dark and lighthearted moments. Unfortunately, it also has a ton of problems, with bullshit plot twists, Riley, unnecessary moments of sexual tension between animals, Riley, wildly inconsistent artstyle that never seems to stick to one style, Riley, very bland antagonists with no motivation, Riley and certain aspects of the main gimmick of the comic aren't explained well, and also Riley. I wouldn't recommend Alien Dice to anyone like I would recommend Gene Catlow, as I feel it needs to work out its issues.

2. Daisy Falls Apart

Daisy Falls Apart is a parody comic that doesn't exactly break new ground. It's harmless but I wouldn't read it a second time. It's held down by its horribly unlikable protagonist and how the whole conflict of the comic is very quickly resolved, and also too many sexual jokes in something that is based on a children's game. Out of all the comics I've riffed, this one is the most mediocre, and number 2 meaning mediocre should worry you.

3. Carnivores

This comic was originally a painful experience, but so many painful experiences came after it, it feels like one of the less worse ones despite having the worst art. Also i can tell Austin did this comic for fun, and not to convey a deep message. Also it’s probably the only fetish webcomic in history where fetish itself starts taking a backseat halfway through. Yeah, some of the entries will be the exact same as in the previous ranking, if I haven't given them any major revisits. Also the only reason it's under Daisy Falls Apart is because it has a much worse artstyle.

4. Bloody Mary

Bloody Mary satisfies your specific hunger for Johnny Test characters commiting several crimes in rapid succession. Reading the comic both entertains me immensely but it also makes me feel dirty. The crossover stuff is there to please the author and not really provide any point. It is unique in that the comic doesn't feature a full cast ensemble but it's rather just focusing on Mary ruining people's lives and interacting some random character from a North American animated thing. The only reason it's below Carnivores is the suspicious amount of unintentional racism???

5. Warmage

Warmage is enjoyable for all the wrong reasons. None of Dumok’s other comics have gone to the same level of bizarreness Warmage offers with each page. However it is also the host to the worst character to ever appear in this blog, Tsuki. Other than that, Warmage seemed to have semi-intriguing lore and also ended on a rather decent arc, so i think i could’ve been interested to see it continue, just because i wanna see how much worse it can get. But then again, spanking scene.

6. Kit n Kay Boodle

It's amazing that year by year, Kit and Kay Boodle gets more and more tame. More than anything it helped to expose me to Albert's usual writing bullshit, but somehow it manages to be tame compared to craziness of Gene Catlow. When you know that EVERYONE is fictional in the real life bits, it just loses the nightmare quality it once had. That being said I am bitter half of the riff is locked behind Tumblr's stupid filter system.

7. Dominic Deegan

Ah, Deegan, Deegan, Deegan... during my riff of Gene Catlow I apologised to you so many times I almost wanted to bump up your rating, but I feel like you're in a comfortable place. In a lot of ways Dominic Deegan is the quiessential mid-2000's webcomic, what started off as a gag-a-day comic soon became an edgy fantasy full of author screaming his political views and projecting his desires into the main characters. I think even Mookie is not too proud of the decisions he made, and Legacy of Dominic Deegan feels like an apology to correct the problems of the series. But there will always be the original Dominic Deegan, with its orcs and their fucked up culture, screaming manchild protagonists, exaggerated gay characters, magic that is random and nonsensical but also has schools based on teaching it, aggressive sports players and Siggy burial. However, who knows how it ranks after I finally finish it.

8. Roommates and 9. Chugworth Academy

The reason I made Gene Catlow 0 was also because I didn't want to rank it lower than these two, because I have no heart to say "Roommates/Chugworth Academy is better than Gene Catlow". If your comic ranks lower than these two, it's done and there is no coming back. I can safely say that I will NEVER EVER revisit these two comics, even if there are worse comics in this ranking.

10. Spinnerette

I said last time that Spinnerette was the worst comic I've riffed, and quite frankly I can't put it into words why that isn't the case anymore. After revisiting Spinny so many times since my last ranking, it has...improved. Remember that my last exposure to the comic was the Fat Spinny Arc and the first half of Hostess arc, and it seemed like Spinny was just embracing being a parade of Kraw's fetishes. However now that I've seen more of it, it's trying. But the comic is still like a fish flopping on dry ground in the middle of the desert. It doesn't want to pick a narrative, it just does random one-off stories forever. As much as I hated Colonel Glass I wish he came back just so this comic would have some semblance of seriousness again. Of course the comic has recently started fucking up the last decent characters, and I wouldn't be surprised if this comic bumped down again after few more revisits, BUT, it's still not the worst thing Kraw has made.

11. Las Lindas

Las Lindas is even more hopeless than Spinnerette, because this comic will introduce the decent thing, and before you know it decent thing is ruined. At least Spinnerette has decent variety of different stories. Las Lindas will never leave that fucking farm, if we don't count the spinoff comics half of which are non-canon and are about the same level of quality as main comic anyway. My brief revisit showed me the post-Alejandra era wasn't as hideous as I thought but it's pretty damn close, and with the ever-worsening artstyle and an apparent INTRODUCTION OF SUPERHEROES, Las Lindas's level of quality could best be described with that panel where Tootsie drives into a river.

12. Console Girl

Console Girl is the first comic in this ranking I just completely despise. It makes Ctrl-Alt-Delete look like Penny Arcade, it's a comic about an ecchi console that comes to life but midway through we get a plot twist and it turns out to be a cyberpunk comic that tries to treat humanoid consoles fighting seriously...or not really, as the comic has a problem taking itself seriously, outside of some questionable moments where the author seems to project their hidden anger towards video games into the comic??? We also have in-comic non-canon filler arcs, console girls eventually becoming random fetishes instead of things actually relevant to their real counterparts and TOO MANY LITTLE PEOPLE WHO ARE IN RELATIONSHIPS WITH ADULT MEN. I'm glad this comic was never finished.

13. Monster Girl Academy

Monster Girl Academy is just...the worst. It was solely created to make Kraw even more rich, but I would forgive that if the comic didn't just...fail as a webcomic, fail as a porn comic and fail as a narrative period. This comic was designed for lowest common denominator with fetishes that are too weird to be vanilla and too vanilla to be weird. Its existence pisses me off. While other comics I've riffed had potential, this never had any semblance of it. The main protagonist is a piece of shit and all his girls are also pieces of shit, the only likable character is a little girl who cries and prays in Spanish, because every character reading this comic can relate to her. Fuck this comic, and I mean it with every letter of that sentence.

#article thingy

[notsve2]

TRADITION!

Fiddler on the Roof - October 13th

Fiddler on the Roof follows Tevye (Played by John Payonk) and his family in the traditional Jewish town of Anatevka, Russia, in the time leading up to the expulsion of Jews in the area by the Tsar. Throughout the show, Teyve’s three eldest daughters, Tzeitel (Ally Dods), Hodel (Mia Bergstrom), and Chava (Amelia Burkley), get married, with each relationship being more unconventional than the last. It emphasizes the conflict of upholding tradition in the ever-changing world. In the opening number, “Tradition,” it became apparent that this show was comedic, which is something that I did not expect it to be. This opening number also displayed a beautiful choice in production design, with the exception of the very apparent and fake beards, which would only be continuously amplified as the show continued. The combined aspects of stunning designs and strong performances, especially by the male leads, created a world that I had never experienced before and felt deeply connected to.

The technical aspects of the show were a favorite of mine. The set, in particular, was visually appealing yet functional at the same time. At all times, watercolor trees adorned the sides of the Proscenium arch, decorated with flowers made of what looked like a tissue paper-like material and hung by chicken wire. The materials allowed for the reflection of light depending on the scene and setting. Hanging over the center-left stage was a circular structure often used as a moon or sun. The simple yet intricate details made the stage feel alive yet had enough room for the large cast. The set pieces, often chairs, tables, or structures, were easily transportable but effective in displaying a new location. This allowed for simple and quick changes between scenes. The most impressive of these was Teyve’s house, which is first seen by the exterior but is opened to reveal the fully furnished interior, which allowed for a new, detailed location in only seconds. For such a long show with many distinct locations, decisions like these were necessary to keep the flow of the show. It is comparable to a show I saw last year, Much Ado About Nothing, wherein this was a significant flaw in the production.

The actors' performances were good, and it felt like they had a genuine familial connection. It was most displayed, expectedly, from Tevye and his wife, Golde (Eva Devirgilis). Altogether, the ensemble of the characters worked well to show the deep connection of the Anatevka Community, especially in Act 1 during “Sabbath Prayer” and during the end of Act 2, “Anatevka.” The comedic and exaggerated performance of Lazar Wolf (Scott Wichmann) was entertaining and, more importantly, allowed for a more significant impact when he and Teyve said their goodbyes at the end of the show.

One of the more odd decisions was the vocal mannerisms of two characters in the show, Tevye and the Rabbi’s son (Nick Richardson). Throughout the entirety of the show, Tevye bore a Russian accent. This is expected, as the show does take place in Russia; however, no other actor shared this accent and instead spoke with an American one. I summed this down to the actor possibly being Russian, but this was not true when he gave a remark after the show. Similarly, the Rabbi’s son had a very effeminate voice whenever on stage. This would not normally stick out, but it did not align with the given circumstances or the morals of his character, being one of the more, if not most, traditional characters seen in the show. Despite these odd choices, they did not hinder my overall opinion of the show, but the second did distract me a few times.

Overall, this is definitely my favorite show I have seen by far. Every aspect was phenomenal and any hindrance to the show was minimal. I would definitely recommend anyone to see a production of Fiddler on the Roof.

#fiddler on the roof #musical #musical theatre #musicals #theatre

[love-geeky-fangirl]

I will wrote this in anon as this fandom is often out for blood, but I have many problems with the Percy Jackson tv show and the trailer confirmed it for me.

- It's rushed.

We've gone from casting to the first episode all put in year. So for a TV show that's not so unusual, but consider this is a.Disney+ tv show and not something from the CW. CW ensemble a cast, they come together and shot episodes through most of the year, take some time off, return, and go at it again. Episode finishes shooting, they do all the special effects, tv show is ready to roll on the Autumn with in going shooting, it takes a few months of shooting, a few months of editing, the result is a cheesy show where the special effects look like Supernatural or Riverdale.

Now compare Disney.

Mrs Marvel were shooting for months. Then they did reshoots and more reshoots. They refilmed certain parts. They spent ages working on it and it finally came out. Similar is with Loki, season 2 has taken forever to create, its been almost 2 years. Other TV shows take equally long, there's one called Echo out in November, that one has also taken around 2 years.

Percy Jackson's TV show is more in line with a run of the mill CW TV Show than a Disney + one. It has been greatly rushed and bare in mind too these actors are all children, they can't have them on set all the time, it should have taken even longer than an adult TV show to make, in truth it took them less. Once the kids were done, it was special effects. Percy Jacksin only finished in February, if they had to reshot anything (and often they do) that would have happened throught March and April once they reviewed the footage. There's had maybe 3 to 4 months to do perhaps 10 hours worth of TV show, and that includes special effects which can take weeks, all the green screens, the lightning, matching audio and lip movement up, any music, all the ending and starting credits. Then they've finished, maybe a month ago, Disney have reviewed it, Greenlight it, they made a trailer and release date (which I shall mention soon) given in time for Percy's birthday. Which indicates this was finished weeks ago.

This is CW-level editing, not Disney+ level. They haven't paid alot out at all on this series. They've left them use the same software The Mandalorian uses, but as you can see, the 'volume' doesn't look do good on Percy Jackson, everything looks flat and lifeless, this is down to a lack of budget. The team behind this isn't their A Team. More like their Q Team. They had been no love, this to Disney is their tax break/schedule filler. I honestly don't believe they wanted to make this, but since they brought Fox and gainted the rights and Rick Riordan started pestering them, they said OK to shut him up, which brings me to the next point.

By bringing the TV show forward, they can effectively just cancell it fast. Hopefully this makes sense.

Strike is on right now. I didnt even know the trailer had aired, I was out on the 18th, only vaguely went online yesterday. Today to my surprise I found the trailer had been released - From a Destiel Meme for crying out loud lol.

So if the trailer can quietly slip by somebody who knows about Percy Jackson and had read the books, imagine somebody who doesn't know Percy Jackson. They won't see the trailer at all. The official tumblr Disney plus like/retweet number is only in the low 2k or so last I checked, that's just 2,000 likes/retweets. That's shockingly low. The writer strike isn't going to end any time soon, Percy Jackson has had its trailer and no press, no nothing. Its going to just slip by unnoticed. Recently Disney + cancelled National Treasure (?) Only after 3 months since its air date due to bad ratings. They've been deleting alot and I think everybody seen what happened to Willow and sorry to say but that looked much better than Percy Jackson did. The TV show comes out on the 20th December. Around that time Disney+ is swamped with Christmas movies. All the fandoms have something. Marvel with their Christmas specials, Simpsons will have all their Christmas episodes listed. Olaf will likely be all over the app. Even Darth Vader is often in Christmas Masks, and that's before all the romcon Christmas movies come out, as well as the Disney ones themselves. Thing is, trying to find a poorly advertised TV show on there is going to be near impossible at that time and that's IF you have time free from family. No doubt fans will watch the TV show when it airs, but its going to be a low number among general public. When episode 3 - 10 release weekly after that, they still have New Year promos, then no doubt Star Wars or Marvel will air something. All of this too IF the writers strike is off, if not then they won't be any Percy Jackson advertising. Its going to get cancelled without a doubt.

So writers strike aside, why is December a bad time and omen? Because it has been rushed to air in 2023. It could be used as a tax write off. Disney plus could skip it all together from renewed. The new tax year is still far off, they can place it into this year and write it off.

Hi! So true this fandom IS out for blood! That's why I kept silent for one year, because all the opinions I saw were strongly pro this series and people were like: "If you don't like this casting you're a bigot, don't talk to me."

Anyway, I did not even notice any of the other issues, such as how fast put together this show is and I don't know anything about tax write offs. I don't agree that the show looks flag and lifeless, I quite like the aesthetic and the orange tv shirts give me nostalgia. But I will agree with you that the Disney+ format is so bad- only like what 6-8 episodes per season? That's basically just a long movie. What's the point of even making it a show if one season is going to be as long as a movie? I think that this format is also part of the reason why How I Met Your Father is not very good. Also you are so right about the special effects. If they rushed it all together so fast (they filmed it super fast considering child actors are only allowed to work like 10 hours/week) what is it going to look like? The Marvel special effects in the recent movies look like cheap green screen, so I am sceptical about that as well. Not to mention that anything that came out of Disney from recent years was not very good and ended up losing money.

I think it is sad, because this book series finally deserves a worthy adaptation but it doesn't look like it will be getting it soon.

#answered #percy jackson

[hopecel]

“But let me tell you something that my mama said to me You take what you can get, and you make the most of it So right now we're livin' it”

#broadwayedit #theatreedit #hadestown #hadestownedit #afra hines #ahmad simmons #kimberly marable #timothy hughes #john krause #eva noblezada #amber gray #long post #** #im sorry i know u saw this a million times already #but first time i posted it it was ignored by tumblr search and im still salty about it #and given that my other ensemble set did numbers #i really want this to happen for this set too

[out-of-jams]

War & Peace || jhs

↠ War & Peace ↞ “Your rivalry with Jung Hoseok first began at the tender age of five, right after you’d beamed a cardboard box of crayons straight at his forehead. He’d bled and it’d later left behind a thin scar that sliced clean through his right eyebrow. You should’ve felt guilty, but you hadn’t. Still didn’t.

He’d had it coming for trying to Compel you to hand them over anyway. And technically, you did hand them over. Just not in the way he’d probably wanted. At least, that was what you’d told the teacher after Hoseok had growled wildly at you from across the playroom table.

But you know what they say; all’s fair in love and war.”

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Word Count: 9.9k

Warnings/Genre: Alpha!Hoseok. Omega!Reader. Enemies to lovers. ABO dynamics. Explicit language. Fluff.Slight angst. Cliché spin-the-bottle scene. Pining. They’re both annoying idiots. Competition au(?). Bad puns. Cliche Jackson throwing a party (a party ain’t a party if it ain’t a Jackson Wang party).

All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not.

The room was abuzz.

You paused where you stood at the entrance to the Four Seasons’ Hotel ballroom. Fingers tightening around the small, black clutch bag in your hand, you let your eyes rove over expensive dresses and suits and quaffed hair and curls. At least the spaghetti strap, two piece off-white dress your mother had bought (and forced you to wear) fit the occasion quite well, so your inherent fear of accidentally standing out wouldn’t come to fruition.

Whoever had decorated the ballroom had pulled out all the stops. There were miniature chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, lights turned to a dim setting. Small-yet-cosy circular tables were spread out evenly, chairs for two either occupied or emptied. A man in a catering ensemble approached you, extending his tray of bubbly champagne. Normally you wouldn’t put alcohol of any kind into your body, but you’d make an exception just that once. You took one with a smile of thanks and swallowed a mouthful in an attempt to chase away your nerves.

When your parents had first approached you about attending the matchmaking event, you’d been wary. The events themselves weren’t rare; young adults who had yet to find a mate would go to them. They had a ninety-nine percent success rate when it came to matching you. However, you found the whole thing to be quite archaic.

It wasn’t that you were against love or finding a mate or anything like that, you just didn’t think that attaching yourself to another person for life should be so significant. You’d been too busy during college getting your degree to date anyone seriously. And you’d never felt the desire to, hadn’t needed to.

As an Omega, you were the lowest tier in the societal hierarchy. And as an unmated Omega, you were a rare commodity. It was expected for an Omega to be mated before they even reached their twenties. Something about needing to be taken care of or some other bullshit that you disagreed with. You could take perfectly good care of yourself.

But when you’d come home mateless after graduation to visit your parents before trying to find a job with your degree, they’d been concerned. Your mother, a fellow Omega, had sat you down and forced you to fill out the overly long, three hundred questionnaire for the matchmaking service. Of course, you’d rolled your eyes, but ended up relenting. You’d decided that you’d just go to the damn event, let the mysterious matchmakers do their thing, give some excuse to leave sometime in the middle of the thing, and then go home and tell your parents that you’d tried.

You should’ve known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

Glancing down at the dark red card the size of your palm that the woman manning the check-in desk had given you, you memorized the two numbers printed on it. As if you hadn’t looked at it a few dozen times already. Just in case. You didn’t want to be there, but you weren’t about to somehow accidentally embarrass yourself either.

The flared, lace skirt of your dress brushed against your legs while you made your way through the room, eyes scanning the number placards on the table in search of your own. Some of them already had couples sitting at them, engaged in conversation and hiding shy smiles behind dainty hands. Your heels click-clacked against the shiny marble flooring as you weaved between others who were still finding their seats.

Eight, nine, ten, you mentally counted in your head, passing by the white-clothed tables. Eleven.

Your feet halted and you glanced down at your card one last time before looking up. Table twelve was already occupied, leaving a single seat left.

“Wow,” you murmured through red painted lips. He looked up at the sound of your voice, soulfully deep brown irises alighting on your form. Dark hair parted perfectly to reveal the smooth, tan skin of his forehead curled above a single one of those eyes. Heart-shaped lips that appeared soft to the touch parted in surprise. “I know you almost failed fifth grade math, but I didn’t think you were still this bad at counting.”

"I—what are you doing here?” Jung Hoseok looked so utterly bewildered that it would’ve been endearing if it had been anyone but him. He subconsciously smoothed a ringed hand down the front of his midnight black satin tux and stared at you like he’d never seen you before.

“What are you doing here?” You avoided answering his question with a raised eyebrow.

“What does it look like I’m doing here?”

“It looks like you’re sitting at my table,” you gestured at the aforementioned seat with your flute of champagne.

“No, I’m sitting at my table.” Hoseok tilted his head, sharp jawline standing out and tiny dimples revealing themselves as he pursed his mouth. “It’s not my fault that you can’t read.”

“Excuse me?” A sound of indignation sprang from the back of your throat and you dropped your clutch on the table in order to flip around the tiny card in your hand. The number twelve was embedded on it in swirling, looping gold font. “Now move.”

He did not, in fact, move. He just sat there like an impressive impersonation of a statue. The only part of him that moved was when those espresso hued eyes of his widened in either surprise or shock, you didn’t know. Nor did you care. Or at least you hadn’t until he slowly lifted a hand to show you his own card with the number twelve printed on it.

And then you too, did the best performance you could muster at being frozen solid. As if the universe was attempting to prove that the two of you had, in fact, been matched together, your voices harmonized as you spoke at the same exact time:

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me.”

                  (Seventeen years ago)

Your rivalry with Jung Hoseok first began at the tender age of five, right after you’d beamed a cardboard box of crayons straight at his forehead. He’d bled, and it’d later left behind a thin scar that sliced clean through his right eyebrow. You should’ve felt guilty, but you hadn’t. Still didn’t.

He’d had it coming for trying to Compel you to hand them over anyway. And technically, you did hand them over. Just not in the way he’d probably wanted. At least, that’s what you’d told the teacher after Hoseok growled wildly at you from across the playroom table.

The kindergarten classroom had been packed with screaming, rambunctious toddlers. It was an important time in every child’s life — not because that was the age where friendships first began; it was when nature started to reveal itself. When the part of the brain in charge of scent glands that separated the Alphas from the Betas from the Omegas developed.

You’d been relegated to one of the tables in the corner with all the rest of the soft, floral smelling, shy Omegas. Until the green colored crayon you’d been using to smear across your paper in an attempt at drawing the vast forest outside ran out. The closest resupply of your writing instrument had been lying all the way across the room on one of the empty tables.

Of course, because fate was nothing but a bitch, your quick hands snatched the crayon box up point-two seconds before a pouting Jung Hoseok could. He’d looked at you with those gentle, chocolate brown eyes of his, and then the first words he’d ever spoken to you passed his heart shaped lips.

“Hey, give it!”

And yours to him. “No way! I got them first, loser!”

The rounded apples of his cheeks puffed up with a scowl, jaw clenched. If he’d been taller than you, maybe he would’ve been intimidating. But to you, he’d just looked like a fluffed up chicken.

“Well, you’re an Omega and I’m an Alpha, so you gotta do what I say,” his tongue fumbled over the larger words and he crossed his arms over his chest with a look that told you he thought he’d just won the battle.

“Make me,” scoffing, you leveled him with a glare and waved the box of crayons under his perfectly straight nose.

“Fine.” His eyes narrowed and he took a deep breath. “Give them.” His dark irises flashed gold as he laced his words with the power of an Alpha Command.

If he were older and had more of a grip over his powers, perhaps you would’ve felt compelled. But the only thing that overcame you was annoyance. Your fingers tightened around the box; your arm cocked back. “Fine.”

And it went careening straight into his forehead with a crack! that had all heads in the room turning to look back. Sticking your nose in the air, you slipped your stolen green crayon into your dress pocket and skipped back to your table.

That was when your rivalry first started.

And the war began.

Eleven years later and the whole town knew of your blatant dislike for one another. It was difficult not to when the moment the two of you entered the same room, you were immediately at each other’s throats. Some of the older, more set-in-their-ways Alphas frowned upon your rivalry with Jung Hoseok. Though they were more annoyed at the fact that he never used his Alpha Compulsion to “put his mouthy Omega in her place” than anything else.

His. Hearing them call you his never failed to absolutely infuriate you. Like you were nothing other than a piece of property. Like you belonged to the one person in the world who you despised the most. Like you could belong to anyone at all.

Omegas were supposed to cow to Betas, and above all, Alphas. The hierarchy had been around since the beginning of time. Since Alphrina, the goddess of all mankind, had created the first Alpha in her image. They were the strongest of the Three, Betas coming in second and Omegas last.

If Hoseok had been like any other Alpha, then he probably would’ve long since made you submit to him. But he never had. Lisa, your childhood best friend and the town’s most popular female Alpha, had theorized that maybe he just didn’t know how to use his Alpha powers. But you knew better. His pride would never recover if he’d been forced to Compel you into listening to him.

Not even after you’d paid Jeon Jungkook a hefty sum to switch Hoseok’s shampoo bottle during the football team’s after practice shower with a similar one you’d filled with green hair dye back in high school. He’d stormed up to your locker the next day, cheeks aflame with rage and jaw clenched while he spat out (true) accusations.

But he’d had no proof that you’d been the one to make him look like a very festive Christmas tree, what with the already bright red strands of his hair stained with streaks of green. You’d thoroughly made sure that Jungkook would do it while the team was actually showering, so the soap and hot water would wash away any lingering scent of the culprit.

Hoseok had gotten you back, of course, by sticking a huge glob of chewing gum in your hair after you’d fallen asleep on your desk during history class. You’d cried for two days straight after your mom had to chop off your long locks into a shoulder length bob. And the cycle repeated itself with you taking revenge by stealing the janitor’s keys after school, and hiding a dead fish in Hoseok’s locker to decompose over the two week long Christmas break.

At least your rivalry had stopped anyone else from trying to mess with you due to your Omega status. Either they’d been too afraid of stepping on Hoseok’s toes, or had just been way too entertained by your antics, you weren’t sure. But you weren’t complaining, not when you saw how the other Omega’s in your school had been treated.

It hadn’t been good.

At all.

Suffice to say, maybe you would be somewhat grateful for Hoseok if you didn’t despise his existence so much.

You blamed your last weekend of your high school career for implanting the seed into your mind. For flip-turning your opinion of Jung Hoseok right upside down. Not that you’d exactly noticed it at first; it’d just kickstarted the slow sliver of doubt that began to fester.

Partying wasn’t usually your thing. You didn’t have anything against it, nor the people that chose to do so, you just refused to partake in anything that could alter your state of mind. Because being an Omega not in full control of yourself was a dangerous thing to be. But it was the end of mandated schooling and a very important milestone that deserved celebrating.

Which was the exact argument that Lisa had used in order to convince you to go with her and Jennie (a Beta and the most recent addition to your friend group) to the after graduation party. Jackson Wang’s house was unnecessarily massive, most likely due to both of his Alpha parents being on the city council. He’d somehow been able to convince them to take a weekend vacation and leave the estate in his (ir)responsible hands.

By the time you pulled up with both of your friends, the party was in full swing. Cars littered the curved driveway all the way down to the street below. (And seeing as how the Wang Estate was fifty acres, that was a long way down.) Music poured out from the opened front doors, heavy bass rattling the windows of Lisa’s Nissan.

You pressed your nose against the passenger side glass with a grimace. Fiddling with the overly tight dress that Jennie had forced you into, you sighed deeply.

“Oh, come on, Y/n, it’ll be fun,” Jennie leaned forward from the backseat to cheer encouragingly.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you argued and finally turned away from the steadily approaching mansion.

“You didn’t have to. You have that I-Don’t-Want-To-Be-Here face,” Lisa spoke up from the driver’s seat, eyes intently focused on finding a parking spot.

You snorted. “That’s because I don’t. Being surrounded by loud, drunk Alphas and Betas isn’t the most appealing way to spend my Friday night, thank you very much.”  

“We already told you that we’re going to watch out for you tonight.” Lisa made a noise in the back of her throat when she finally found somewhere to leave her vehicle.

“Exactly. Remember what happened last time some asshole Beta harassed you?”

“You mean the time Lisa almost got arrested when she fought that guy in the McDonald’s line?”

“Yup, that’s the one.”

“I’m still mad I never got my McDouble,” Lisa sighed forlornly and cut the engine to her car.

“All you think about is food,” Jennie laughed, quickly scrambling out of the car before Lisa could turn around and swat at her leg.

“Well, she’s not wrong.” The only thing that saved you from your best friend’s wrath was the fact that you were faster than she was.

Inside the house was just as you’d expected: crowded, loud, so many smells and sounds that had your heightened senses almost crying from overstimulation. You followed Jennie and Lisa to the kitchen for them to make themselves drinks (and to snatch up a can of soda for yourself).

Somehow, somehow, your night ended up with Lisa shoving her tongue down some poor Beta’s throat, and you stuck sitting in a circle in the basement of Jackson Wang’s overly large house. Playing a game of spin-the-bottle with a group of people that you barely knew. Well, most of them anyway.

And you hadn’t intended to play at all, hadn’t had any interest in it, but one look at your mortal enemy’s shit-eating grin sitting across from you had made you stop yourself right before you bowed out. Because you knew for a damn fact that if you’d tried, he would’ve ended up saying something to try and embarrass you.

So instead, you reached out and watched intently as the beer bottle spun around and around and around and around. The green hue of the glass gleamed beneath the dim, blue lights in the basement tauntingly. Everything slowed down, your heartbeat thundered in your eardrums, the music faded into the background. You thought it’d never stop.

Until it did.

A hush fell around the group as you sluggishly trailed your eyes upwards and locked them onto your apparent make-out partner. Fate was a bitch and your life was nothing but a cosmic joke. Because of course, of course, clichés wouldn’t be clichés if they weren’t clichés.

And god you hated clichés.

“Ew no,” slipped out of your mouth unhindered before you could even think to form the syllables.

Directly across the circle, Hoseok raised a perfectly shaped dark eyebrow. (You hated he looked so good even when his hair was such an obnoxious and unflattering shade of red.) That annoying, self-assured smirk tugged at the corner of his coral hued, heart-shaped mouth. “Afraid?”

Everyone around the circle had fallen silent, choosing to sit back and watch the drama unfold instead of talking over it. Like you were some kind of live entertainment, their heads bouncing back and forth between the two of you. So when you scoffed, it was loud enough that every ear could hear it.

“I’m not afraid, I just don’t want you touching me because you’ve slept with so many people. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

“Careful, you sound a little jealous there, L/n.” A second eyebrow jumped up to join the first and Hoseok leaned his weight forward. That insufferable smirk grew.

“Jealous?” Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “As if I’d ever be jealous of anything involving you, Jung.”

“It’s okay to admit it,” he shrugged casually. “If you ask me, I think it’s kind of flattering. Sad and a little pathetic, but flattering.”

“What would I possibly be jealous of? Didn’t you have an STD last month?” You shot back with an unamused snort.

He did that thing again where the apples of his cheeks puffed up and his mouth pursed. While that expression had made him appear very non-intimidating in the past, with puberty had come the sharpening of his jawline and the development of high cheekbones. Maybe if it were any other Alpha looking at you like that, your inner Omega would’ve been cowering. But witnessing someone pee their pants and then cry about it in the first grade tended to make it impossible to see them as menacing.

“That was just a rumor!” Hoseok glared, face beginning to pink beneath the stares of everyone in the room.

“That’s not what Sulgi said,” you hummed. “Yikes.”

“You—”

“As entertaining as this foreplay is to watch,” Jackson’s deep voice piped up, leaning back on his hands from where he sat between two girls you didn’t recognize. “I’d like to take my turn sometime tonight. So either kiss or go fight out in the parking lot, I don’t care.”

Hoseok’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, more than likely contemplating arguing with the party host (you knew he didn’t like being ordered around, especially by another Alpha), before a spark of mischievous amusement lit up his mocha colored irises and he turned back to you, head tilted. “I would love to move on, but L/n over here is too afraid to.”

Your lip curled. “I already told you that I—”

“Nervous then? I bet that you haven’t even been kissed before, have you?”

Even though he was correct, you refused to allow him to know it. So you’d never kissed someone before, who cared? People graduated high school all the time without locking lips with someone else. And it wasn’t like you’d never had the chance to—you’d had plenty of dating offers—you’d just never found any of them worthy enough to kiss. That was it.

Not that Jung Hoseok needed to know that.

So you lied.

“Of course I have.”

“Oh really.” It wasn’t a question. “Who?”

“That’s none of your business,” you sniffed.

Hoseok looked like a wolf right before it pounced on its prey: smug. “Then what’s the problem then? Afraid you’d like it?”

“Wow, I don’t know how you fit through the door with your ego as inflated as it is. Like I’d ever enjoy kissing you. It took Sulgi months to shut up about how bad you are at it.”

His haughty expression dropped from his face and his stare darkened at the blatant insult. You realized your mistake the very moment that the challenge sparked within his eyes. He stood slowly, gaze locked on your own as he stepped over the bottle in the middle of the floor. When he reached you, his hand shot down and grasped onto your upper arm, lifting you from your cross-legged seat and onto the soles of your shoes.

“Wha—” He cut off your indignant protest with his mouth before it could fully form.

The last thing you ever would have expected was for Jung Hoseok to kiss you, let alone softly. For his mouth to press against yours with just enough pressure to be labeled as delicate—like the tickling of butterfly wings. He trapped your bottom lip between both of his, slender fingers threading through the hair at the nape of your neck. You shouldn’t have let him touch the most sensitive part of your body. Shouldn’t have instinctively liked it.

Shouldn’t have let your eyes flutter closed and kissed him back. But you were too wrapped up in his strong scent, the warmth of his skin, the gentle exhaling of air as he breathed, the lingering taste of the alcohol from his emptied cup. One kiss turned into two, into three, into four. Until your hands came up to grasp the material of his shirt between your fingers.

Jung Hoseok kissed you like you’d always wanted to be kissed. Slowly and softly and warmly. When his tongue slipped between your lips and touched yours, it wasn’t with the roughness of someone trying to take control. It was a dance; one where he took the lead subtly and you willingly let him do it.

His hand on your arm found your waist and pulled you close, pressed your fronts together until there was no longer any space separating you. A sigh escaped when his tongue brushed against yours more firmly, more determined to have you melting and pliant beneath his touch. Until you had to swallow a whimper when he finally pulled away.

He didn’t go far, just enough to look at you down the slope of his straight nose, pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy and mouth kiss-swollen. You hated him then, in that moment, more than you ever had before. Hated him for stealing your first kiss. Hated him for making you want to lean forward and pull him back until you could no longer breathe. Hated him for dropping his hands from your heated skin with a wink and that knowing smirk of his.

Hated him.

The rest of the game had been a blur after that. You’d sat back down between Jennie (ignoring her imploring expression) and a Beta whom you couldn’t even process the face of. You didn’t spin again, had been content to just sit next to your friend and sip at your almost empty can of soda.

And you hated, hated, hated yourself for noticing that Hoseok never took another turn either.

                           (Present Time)

You’d been content with the fact that you’d never have to see your rival again after that night. With high school finally over, you would be going off to college on the other side of the country and would finally be free. To say that you’d been ecstatic would’ve been an understatement. There would be no more biting comments aimed at you in the hallway, no more having to be paranoid about being the victim of another of Hoseok and his friend’s pranks.

No more Hoseok.

It had been a glorious, stress-free (to an extent) four years of your life. Both Lisa and Jennie had applied to and been accepted to the same university as you, so you’d split the rent three ways and moved in together. City life had been a difficult adjustment, a culture shock, but now you were used to it and absolutely loved it.

Which meant that fate had to come around and fuck things up.

Silence had fallen between both you and Hoseok. All around you, couples sitting at the other tables in the expansive ballroom were jabbering away, getting to know one another to see how compatible they were. Laughter and glasses clinking harmonized together with the gentle music playing from the hotel speakers hidden somewhere you couldn’t see.

You’d collapsed bonelessly into your seat after the shock of being matchmade with your mortal enemy wore off. Now you were just annoyed. At your parents for making you go to the stupid thing, at yourself for not lying on your questionnaire, at the universe for existing. At Hoseok for existing. There was a lot to process.

Obviously, the matchmaking service was flawed, false, fake, inaccurate. And you were glad that you hadn’t been excited for the event in the first place, because you would’ve been dead by now. Reason of death? Disappointment. How in the world someone could think you and Hoseok were compatible at all was a complete mystery to you.

Glancing up from where you’d been glaring at your still half full flute of champagne, you eyed your unwelcome companion. Hoseok was looking out into the crowded room, stare blank as his mind went somewhere you had no interest in trying to follow even if you could. Four years had passed since you’d last laid eyes on him and in that time he’d changed physically, but also still looked the same.

No longer was he the teenager who’d yet to grow into his cheekbones, though he still had those broad shoulders and large hands and muscular-yet-slim athletic build. He’d always been handsome—not that you’d ever tell him that, even if your life was at stake—and his looks had only matured. Hoseok was all angles and sharp lines and deep set eyes framed by long lashes that always made you secretly jealous.

Which only fueled your puzzlement.

“Why are you here?”

He blinked, snapping out of whatever thoughts were running through his mind and turned back to you. “What?”

“Why are you here,” you asked slowly, tongue spelling out each of the syllables like he couldn’t understand you otherwise.

Hoseok’s eyes narrowed. “I thought we already had this conversation.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms. “I meant here as in this stupid event looking for a mate, not this stupid table.”

“Why are you? Already scared off everyone on the other side of the country with your annoying personality?” Four years later and he still had that infuriating smirk, that quirk of his lips that had your blood pressure instantly spiking.

“Are you here because you’ve slept with the whole town already?”

Humming, Hoseok tilted his head to the side in fake contemplation. “Your jealousy is showing again, L/n.”

“Your inflated ego is showing again, Jung.”

“Oh? If I’m recalling correctly, that’s exactly what you said years ago, right before you slobbered all over my chin.”

“Me? Me? Says the one who—”

“Could I have everyone’s attention please?” A woman’s voice cut through your heated response. Somewhere between the time the conversation had first begun and now, both you and Hoseok had gone from putting as much distance between the two of you as possible, to practically falling on top of the table to spew insults at one another.

With one last glare, you turned to look over your shoulder at the well-dressed blonde woman standing on the stage near the front. The material of her designer jumpsuit shimmered beneath the lights as her manicured hand held a microphone to her glossy, smiling lips. “Hello everyone! I’d like to welcome you to this year’s MateMaking—”

Hoseok’s quiet scoff echoed your own at the sound of the horribly unwitty play on words. His annoyed scowl also mirrored yours when you turned back to throw him one.

“—event! I can see that everyone has already found their mate-tastic partners for the evening.” She winked, earning a few light, nervous giggles from the crowd. “There are a few house rules that we must go over before we can officially begin. For starters, there will be no exchanging of partners. Secondly, a limit of two alcoholic beverages per person has and will be implemented. And last but not least, please make sure to enjoy yourselves! Now, onto the mate—” another wink “—event.”

“The grand prize for the lucky couple who wins tonight’s competition has been graciously donated by the Four Seasons Hotel.” She held up her fingers as she listed them, but you were too busy hanging onto her previous statement. “A free, one night stay in the penthouse suite tonight, an unlimited tab at the bar down the hall, and,” she paused in an attempt to build up the anticipation. “Eight hundred dollars cash.”

“Competition,” you questioned under your breath. What the hell did she mean by that? Wasn’t the whole event supposed to just be a glorified blind date? You threw a glance over your shoulder at Hoseok, who was too busy mouthing the words “eight hundred dollars” to pay you any attention.

“Now if you could all please leave your seats and gather onto the dance floor with your partner, we can begin.” The sound of chairs pushing back from tables echoed around the room and you watched as the people closest to the large opening in the middle of the floor started congregating.

Confused, you blindly rose to your feet and looked to see Hoseok doing the same. “What the hell is going on? I thought this was supposed to be about matchmaking?”

He blinked once, twice, before a laugh bubbled up his throat. “Did you not read the details of the event?”

“What details?” Your cheeks were slowly turning pink in embarrassment, you could feel it, and also couldn’t help it.

“You’re really telling me that you missed the giant, bold letters on the website?”

“What bold letters?” Weaving through the emptying tables, you tried your best to keep up with him on your shorter legs.

Hoseok tutted. “And you always tried to say that I was the stupid one.” He looked down at you once he finally found a spot on the floor that he liked, humor dancing across his face. You were just far away enough from the two coupled next to you that you couldn’t hear their conversations without trying to eavesdrop.

Annoyed, you smacked a hand against his arm and hissed, “Just tell me, asshole!”

“Owch.” He rubbed where you’d hit him, faking a grimace like you’d ever be able to actually hurt him. “Is that how you talk to someone you’re trying to get to help you?”

Your mouth opened to let out another string of character attacking profanities, but he halted them by holding up a hand. “This is a matchmaking event, but it’s also a competition. One that I’m not going to lose, not with that prize money on the line.”

“Oh,” you responded. Well, that explained some of it, but. “We.”

“What?”

“One that we’re not gonna lose,” you corrected him, mind already reeling with what you could use all of that cash for. “We win and split the money.”

“What makes you think that I’d want to split it with you?” A raise of his eyebrow.

A roll of your eyes. “Like you have any other choice. Do you see any other person you can impose your irritating presence on?”

A pause in the air. Pursed lips. Then: “Fine.”

“Fine.”

An agreement.

A temporary ceasefire just in time for one of the workers of the event to reach your side and gift the two of you with a bright green, inflated balloon. He walked off with the parting instructions not to pop it before making his way down the line and giving one to each couple he passed.

“The first stage of tonight’s competition,” the woman MCing (you were pretty sure she’d introduced herself, you’d just hadn’t been paying attention) addressed the crowd. “Is a slow dance to test you and your partner’s ability to be gentle with one another, both with the body and the heart. You must take the balloons that you have and put it in between your bodies.

“Whenever you hear the music change, you and your partner must step closer to each other. The last seven out of our ten couples that succeed in not popping the balloon or letting it fall to the ground will move on to the next round. Those of you who do not pass, will be shown to the bar across the hall to better get acquainted. Let us begin! Don’t be shy, everyone get into position.”

A few chuckles filtered throughout the room, balloons squeaking and strangers lightly conversing as they tried to follow the instructions. You looked up at Hoseok who looked back down at you with the medium sized balloon clutched in his hand.

He tilted his head to the side and wiggled the piece of rubber and hot air. “Are you going to come closer or not? Don’t pretend like you don’t want to touch me.”

“Trust me when I say that I don’t have to pretend,” you huffed, but stepped closer. One of his hands shot out to wrap around your waist, long slender fingers spreading across the whole expanse of the small of your back. You did your best to ignore the heat that bled from his body like a leech, and placed your left hand on his right shoulder.

With the balloon now firmly in place between the two of you, Hoseok took up your free hand with his just in time for the music to start pouring over the speakers. It wasn’t anything that you recognized—some indie song where the singer crooned lyrics about love or beauty or whatever. You didn’t care enough to pay attention.

“You better not step on my feet,” you spoke as the two of you swayed side to side, just loud enough for him to hear, but not enough for the slow dancing couples around you.

“Me? Step on your feet?” Hoseok gave you a look of disbelief. “Aren’t you the one who broke Felix Lee’s foot at prom?”

“No.” At the raising of his brows, you rolled your eyes and looked at some point over his shoulder so you wouldn’t have to meet his skeptical stare. “Okay, so maybe.” — he snorted — “But that had nothing to do with dancing!”

“You’ve always been a horrible liar, L/n.”

“And you’ve always been horrible at telling the truth, Jung.” The song changed into something a little more upbeat, one you thought you might have heard a time or two. Unfortunately, you had to step an inch closer to the man steadily guiding you around the dance floor.

A pop! resounded from the other side of the room as the first couple was eliminated. Squeaking from the balloon cushioned between both of your chests had your conversation pausing for a moment before it picked back up.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know what it means.”

“Believe it or not, L/n,” Hoseok began, “But I would never claim to know what goes on in that cluttered mind of yours.”

“I—wait,” you narrowed your eyes. “How do you know who I went to prom with?”

His mouth opened and closed, obviously ready to swing at you with another comeback before your question caught him off guard. “What?”

“How did you know that I went to prom with Felix?” Another change of the song had you automatically taking another step forward. “I thought you didn’t go to prom.”

“How did you know that I didn’t go to prom?” Hoseok fired back, avoiding the question.

“Oh, please,” you took a breath through your mouth and immediately regretted it when his strong, husky scent invaded your senses and lingered on your tongue. “If you were there, you would’ve been up my ass all night.”

“Now who’s the one with the inflated ego? Everyone was talking about how you’d stomped on him with your ogre feet the next day of school.” He didn’t make eye contact when you looked back at him, his gaze trailing over your head.

You raised an eyebrow. “Now who’s the horrible liar?”

“I’m not lying.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“And I don’t care.”

“Liar.”

“Truther.”

“Truth— what — what even is that?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like.”

“Which is?”

Hoseok’s lips pulled back into a grin, tiny dimples popping into place and white teeth kissing the air. “A truther.”

“You’re so annoying,” the words were supposed to sound annoyed, but you couldn’t help the amused upwards twitch of your mouth.

“I don’t think you have any room to talk, sweetheart.”

You blinked at the pet name. That was new. “Sweetheart?”

Hoseok didn’t respond right away. He just stared down at you past his perfectly shaped nose, dark eyelashes framing brushing the apples of his cheeks. And for the first time in as long as you could remember, you realized that you couldn’t read the thoughts lingering behind his softly bright eyes. Silence lingered for one moment, two, and then his heart shaped lips parted and—

Pop!

You started, jerking back in surprise and Hoseok’s grip on you was the only thing that prevented your balloon from falling to the floor. Pop! Next to you, a couple let out noises of disappointment as they watched the remnants of their popped balloon scatter beneath their feet. They must have frightened another pair of people in the center of the dance floor because theirs popped as well.

“And that concludes our first round!” The MC spoke out over the crowd. “Congratulations to those who have made it though. Now let’s see if your luck persists during round two!”

You looked at Hoseok and he looked back, previously open expression dropped. No words were exchanged, but you already knew that the conversation would be dropped.

Hoseok’s back was warm from where it pressed up against yours, the chairs you sat in doing nothing to stop it from seeping into your skin. In your hands was a tablet, screen displaying the game that the two of you were about to play. The goal was to “defuse a bomb” by following the manual filled with instructions. Which sounded easy in retrospect, but seeing as how the only way you could get said instructions was by Hoseok reading them off the packet in his grasp.

You weren’t allowed to look at the manual, and he wasn’t allowed to look at the tablet screen. And somehow, some way, you were supposed to “defuse the bomb” in five minutes. The MC had said something about testing your ability to communicate with one another, blah, blah, blah. All you knew was that there was no way you were going to lose the stupid competition.

Even if you had to deal with Hoseok’s frustrated grumbling.

“Just tell me which wire I need to cut, Jung!” Or perhaps it was you who was doing the frustrated grumbling. But eh, semantics. The tablet screen was displaying a section of the “bomb” that had four wires criss-crossing one another and you were only allowed to “cut” one of them.

“I already told you,” Hoseok grunted. “The blue one.”

“There’s two blue ones!”

“Then cut the one that’s more blue!”

“They’re the same color you idiot!”

“Stop yelling, I’m trying to read!” He huffed, the sound of paper turning accompanying it. Around the room, the noise level was a cacophony of people talking over one another. The closer the five minutes got to being over, the higher the voices rose. “It says, ‘if there is a red wire—’”

“I only have two blue’s and two white’s!”

“Cut the first blue wire then.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, L/n.”

“Fine.” A pause as you tapped on the screen and waited for it to do something. “Nothing’s happening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why would I lie—oh wait, no, there’s a little x on the screen. Okay I think we’re good with that one.” You didn’t even have to look back to see Hoseok’s face to know that he was rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Now it’s showing a square with four different symbols inside it. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Hold on.” He shuffled his papers in search of the next set of instructions. “Okay, it says ‘always press symbols higher in the column than lower in the column.’”

“What does that even mean?”

“How am I supposed to know? Do I look like the game designer?”

“You’re an Alpha, aren’t you supposed to have great leadership skills or something?”

“What does that even have to do with this?”

“Just give me the damn instructions, Jung!”

“You’re so pushy. No wonder you’re still single.” Hoseok didn’t give you a chance to respond to his jibe before he continued. “Push the symbol of the pitchfork first, then,” he halted for a second, more than likely trying to find his next words before continuing. “Press the one that looks like a pregnant letter T.”

“A what?”

“I know you know what I’m talking about!”

You scrutinized the symbols before going with the one he described, not that you’d ever tell him it was pretty accurate. “Now what?”

“Next is the one that looks like a football goal.” (“God, you’re such a jock.”) “And then push the last one.”

Your finger tapped the screen and a noise escaped your throat when all of the panels on the “bomb” turned green and the timer stopped counting down. “Oh, hell yes!”

“What? Did we beat it?” Hoseok’s head tilted in your direction without him actually having to look back at you.

“Fuck yeah!” Okay, so maybe you were shouting a little too loudly and maybe all of the other couples who had yet to finish the game were giving you looks, but it wasn’t your fault that you were the first team to win.

“Yeah?” Hoseok finally turned to face you, torso twisting in his chair in order to do so. His face was lit up in excitement, the adrenaline of trying to complete the game sparking to life in his beautifully expressive brown eyes.

“Yeah!” It was unusual for an Omega to be competitive, but you couldn’t help your inherent desire to win. If you were to analyse it, a therapist would probably say that it was more than likely due to growing up competing with the man who sat at your back. (But you weren’t a therapist.)

You weren’t sure who went for it first, who moved, who decided to cross that boundary. But one moment you were looking up at his face, and the next your nose was pressed into the junction between his neck and shoulder. Hoseok’s arm was wrapped around your upper back and both of yours were loops around his neck.

The celebratory hug didn’t last long, just enough for his scent — gentle and earthy like petrichor right before it rained — before the both of you pulled away like you’d been electrocuted. An awkward silence followed the accidental physical contact and you weren’t sure where you were supposed to look. But it wasn’t at him.

And you definitely did not miss the feeling of being pressed to his chest.

(Or maybe Hoseok was right and you were a terrible liar. Even to yourself.)

The second round had eliminated a majority of the remaining contestants. Now all that was left were you and Hoseok, a petite woman with a contrastingly tall man, and two average height men. Since your team had come in first place during the last round, you were relegated to nonsensically going last in the final one. With the previous eliminated couples allowed back into the ballroom, you had quite the audience.

Sitting in another chair in the middle of the dance floor, you fiddled with the whiteboard and marker in your hands. You were facing Hoseok so the two of you couldn’t cheat by looking at what the other person was writing. The MC stood between and a little behind both of you, lips pulled up into a smile as she held a stack of cards in her hand.

You’d only ever seen this game played at the weddings of family members you’d gone to over the years, so why they’d chosen to have to (what they thought) complete strangers play it was a mystery to you. Something about “getting to know one another” and “testing compatibility” bullshit and the couple who got the highest answers correct was the winner.

Whatever.

When the MC asked her first question, you were ready.

“Okay, let’s begin! First question, write down which one of the two of you that you believe owns more clothes than the other.” Holding back an eye roll, you quickly scribbled down your answer with the dry-erase marker at the same time that Hoseok did. “Now show us your boards!”

You turned yours with a flick of your wrist, Hoseok’s name written across the surface in ink. It came as no surprise at all that he’d also penned himself down; he’d always been on top of all of the trends in the fashion world so you knew for a fact that his closet greatly exceeded yours.

“Would you look at that!” The MC crowed. “Already so in sync!”

(Unbeknownst to you both, your faces mirrored the same grimace as you erased your boards.)

“Second question: who do you believe is the most stubborn?”

That one took a bit more thought, your eyes flickering up to watch as Hoseok easily scrawled on his board. You already knew what he was going to write and you wanted to win, and you’d do whatever it took to do so. Even if it meant admitting something that wasn’t true.

At the MC’s cue, your boards flipped around to display your name written down on both of them. You glared. The crowd aw’d. The MC squealed at how “you were on the same wavelength.”

“Who’s most likely to cry during a movie?” Hoseok.

“Who do you think is the smartest.” You (much to your surprise that he wrote that down).

“Who has to have the final word during an argument?” You. That one took a little longer to decide with the two of you eyeing each other over the tops of your boards.

“Who got better grades in school?” A snort and the sound of your marker dragging across the board to scribble your own name down.

“Who’s the better dancer?” Hoseok, of course. Who could forget him dancing in the school hallways early in the morning before people even deigned to enter the place?

“If you were to become a couple, who would wear the pants in the relationship.” That question had you glaring and fingers cramping as you dug the tip of the marker into the board. Both was scribbled down on each.

“How about this one: who do you think is the better kisser?” The time in Jackson Wang’s basement popped to the forefront of your mind. It’d been years, but you could still remember the feel of Hoseok’s lips moving against yours and the taste of him on your tongue. You paused, marker hovering over the board before you took a deep, silent breath and wrote your answer down.

That was the first question that the two of you got wrong. With his board displaying your name and yours displaying his, all you could do was stare. Hoseok’s mouth was pressed into a line, not one of his angry ones, but the one he would unconsciously do whenever he was thinking hard on something. You weren’t sure what it was, nor did you have the time to try and figure it out.

“Aw, the first question they’ve gotten wrong. Or did they get it right?” Cue a wink from the MC and a few chuckles from the crowd. “How about we get a little more serious with the final question, hm? Who do you believe would be the first to fall in love with the other?”

You were positive that that would be the second question the two of you would get wrong, but you wrote your answer down anyway. When the cue came to flip them over, you felt your heart stutter. Lips part in surprise. Breath catch in your throat.

Hoseok looked at you with his lips pressed in that thin line, espresso hued, deep set eyes displaying an emotion that you’d never seen before. Never thought would be aimed at you. The whiteboard clutched between your hands shook as you read his over and over and wondered at what it meant (and if you were going to lie to yourself again).

Hoseok was written down on both of your boards, much to the delight of the onlookers.

The MC announcing that the game was complete and that you and Hoseok were the winners was a blur. The cheers from the crowd were a blur. The way the MC held both of your hands as she congratulated you and gifted you with your prizes was a blur.

Hoseok’s refusal to look at you was the only thing that was crystal clear. His back, his broad shoulders cloaked in his black satin tuxedo jacket, the nape of his neck, were the only things you could see. You didn’t get the chance to even speak to him until the elevator doors leading up to the penthouse slid shut.

The MC had sent you off with the key and a wink and a promise that the aforementioned eight hundred dollars was awaiting the two of you in the penthouse suite. Silence engulfed the steel box as it ascended that was neither awkward, nor tense—just heavy. You couldn’t stand it. So you wouldn’t.

“Hoseok.”

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, back braced against the elevator wall.

“Why did you write your name down for that question?”

“Which one? There were dozens.”

“You still suck at telling the truth.”

A pause hovered in the air, the red digital numbers above the elevator continuing to count upwards. And then he spoke. “I was telling the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?”

“Yes.”

Hoseok laughed breathily. Not of amusement, not of someone who’d found something particularly funny. “Do you remember the first time we kissed?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so all you could do was nod.

“I’d been wanting to kiss you since you threw that box of crayons at my head.” He turned to look at you, eyes deep and open and luminescent. “And I’ve been thinking about doing it again ever since that game of spin-the-bottle.”

Your mouth opened and closed, words stuck in your throat until you forced yourself to cough them out. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

He scoffed. “Why would I? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Hoseok.” The syllables of his first name were unfamiliar on your tongue, but you loved the taste of them anyway. “I’ve never hated you.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. “Really.” It wasn’t a question.

“Okay, no, that was a lie,” you mumbled. “I didn’t hate you until after that kiss. But it was only because I’d never wanted it to end.”

“What are you saying?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” You shot back without any heat.

“Maybe,” he hummed, lifting a hand to brush against your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his nose brushed yours. That was the only warning you got before he captured your mouth with his. Hoseok’s lips were just as soft as you remembered, his kiss just as slow, taste just as intoxicating. You involuntarily sighed into his mouth when his teeth caught your bottom lip and tugged.

“I love you,” he breathed into the crevice of your neck.

You sighed. A soft, gentle thing that had the corners of his mouth ticking upwards. “I love you too.”

A pause and then:

“Even though you’re annoying.”

Hoseok’s laugh shook both his frame and yours and you couldn’t help the giggle that harmonized.

tagged: @kotaevln​ @ladyartemesia @alana-ba @lifegoesondotcom @ardoren @awsome-small-k @chimchimsauce @jjamsbangtan @ohheyitssj @bewitch-me @lovetic @veronawrites @lilacdreams-00 @clarissalance​ @daydreambrliever @unicornbabylover @taestannie​ @forever-once-gone @outrofenty @hoseokslefteyebrow @1am9root6 @btsmylife21 @fireheart2003 @iv-bts

#bts #hoseok #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #ficswithluv #btsbookclub #magicshopnet #hoseok fic #hoseok smut #bts fic

[parachutingkitten]

Y'all suck at dissecting Kai's character, so I guess I have to do it.

And I'm not even a Kai stan. He's a bottom tier ninja for me, which I guess means you can trust me, cuz I'm not biased, but also why am I the one doing this? I don't know about y'all, but recently on my dash, the method by which Kai fans try to make him sound good is... saying the writers hate him, ignore him, and that he isn't written well? Which... I mean there is a little bit of truth to, but like yikes guys, is this the best you got? Kai is a wonderful character with plenty of attention from the writers, a meaningful piece of the cast when put in secondary rolls, fairly consistent character writing with actual progression and valuable qualities that help the team without having to be the smart one- despite what some posts might tell you.

Let's get one thing cleared up: Ninjago isn't the best written show. By high level Hollywood standards, most the character arcs are kinda weak or too heavy handed, character consistency can be iffy, and most things serve the plot rather than the characters. There is no character you can point to and say "wow, this character is written so well! No complaints!" Nya and Jay were butchered by their weird love plot, Cole's one season doesn't actually give him an arc, Zane's been nothing but the robot numbers guy for like 10 seasons now, and Lloyd seems to be incapable of doing anything but relive the same one piece of dad angst for depth. Sorry, it's true. All the characters suck when you look at it from a large scale writing perspective. So when I say Kai is well written, I mean by ninjago kids show standards- cuz that's the scale we're working on. No, you couldn't drop Kai into a well written drama, but as far as ninjago goes... he's got a lot going for him, and by no means is he the biggest victim of poor writing.

(fair warning, wall of text below)

The title is a bit disingenuous. There are plenty of good Kai character break downs. What I am presenting here is a more positive perspective. On the whole, I will tend to give the writers the benefit of the doubt, and credit for what they do right writing is hard guys. That's what I'm doing here. I don't see much sense in getting mad the writers on behalf of Kai, or any other character. Ninjago is a simplistic ensemble show that works because of the identifiable simplicity of its main characters with some deeper layers hidden underneath if you keep watching. They've given us a damn good show with some damn enjoyable characters, so here are some criticisms I feel are a little flawed:

First, let's get the 'focus' thing out of the way. Apparently there are people saying Kai doesn't have a season yet? Which... what? I mean, I get that the pilots aren't a full season, the first two seasons, though he is the central protagonist, aren't "Kai seasons" as we've come to define ninja focus seasons, season 7, though he gets majority focus, he shares with his sister. But like... did y'all just forget about season 4? You know, the season where he had the title card, was on the box sets, got the love interest, and the majority of the A-plot? not to mention it's the best season don't @ me Like... if season 4 isn't a Kai season, I can make a damn good argument that season 3 isn't a Zane season, and I doubt anyone wants to go down that rabbit hole. I really can't wrap my head around this one. And I get that the fandom hates season 11 for some reason, but like you can't just pretend it doesn't exist. Kai has a consistent arc across 30 episodes in which he takes his powers for granted, loses them, and learns that, not only does he have value within the team without them, but that his element is intrinsically a part of him that he reclaims, bringing them back more powerful than ever, and with new respect for them. That's one of the most solid arcs in the whole series- the location is even thematically connected to his element. That's some good stuff right there! (Quick plug for season 11 if you haven't watched it in a while. Give it a rewatch, you might be pleasantly surprised)

Not to mention the writers give him fun side stuff all the time. Lots of fears of tech and water to overcome, a deep protective streak with Lloyd, becoming a chancellor, having a true potential actually relevant to the plot as a whole, blacksmith responsibilities, befriending dragons, hanging out with his dad. Not to mention actual focus stuff we haven't talked about yet, like his whole "my dad is evil" phase, and his "I might be evil" phase with him and Skylor. And on top of that, even when he doesn't have an explicit side plot, he's always just a fun and dynamic side character to make jokes or give exposition.

Now, into character stuff. Let's start with Kai's hot headed-ness. Some people say he's been loosing this quality, and I will admit, that's true! But those that claim this makes him inconsistent... I strongly disagree. In early seasons, Kai's temper would lead him to snap at his friends or make stupid decisions that set the team back (see episode 2 Zane freak out)- these are bad things. These are character flaws, yes? Now, in newer seasons, people say that he's inconsistent, cuz sometimes he'll be hot headed, and sometimes he won't. I'd say, this is exactly how being hot headed... works? It flares up without warning, and as an individual gets control of it, it'll pop up less and less often because they're channeling it into productive things - like say directing the anger towards an enemy (see season 11 end freak out). Kai has gained control of a character flaw, and though it still pops up on occasion, the fact that it's a once in a while kind of thing speaks to his growth. I have a little brother who has this exact personality, and watching him grow up, I can tell you, this is how it is. He used to snap all the time, and he still does sometimes, but much less frequently, because he's a more mature person with better control of his emotions. This is a good thing. This is overcoming personal flaws. This is progression we're seeing.

And while you're hyper focused on this one aspect of him, things like his cocky confidence haven't changed a bit. I mean, that season 3 bit between him and Pixal, and his season 11 "fire maker" streak have the exact same energy. You can not convince me otherwise.

Another adjacent quality that hasn't been dampened is Kai's impulsiveness. This can be a good quality of his, he'll get into a fight without thinking, getting the jump on the enemy. Good stuff. But, this has become such a well defined trait of Kai's that it has been used in a comedic capacity. This is what happens when a character is extremely consistent to the extent that both the audience and the characters in universe would be able to predict their actions. Kai's impulsivity used to be a more serious quality that put himself and others at risk, and was a big power move whenever he did something rash, but it's become such a staple of the show that it's now being used for comedy. That isn't Kai's impulsivity going away, that's Kai's impulsivity being recontextualized for the sake of the show. The season 9 "Who's stupid enough to jump on that thing" isn't a joke at the expense of Kai just for being dumb, it's a joke at Kai's being so predictably impulsive that everyone already knows he'll be the one to put himself in an insane amount of danger without thinking twice (you know, something stupid that might get him killed). But because in this instance, the danger is warranted, this is bravery. It's a complement to his character- it's what ends up defeating the colossus. Why are some people so bothered by this joke?

Oh right, cuz for some reason people want to peg Kai as the smart one? Look, Kai isn't stupid, none of the ninja are. All of them have smart moments (all of them have dumb ones too) and Kai can certainly handle himself, but "smart" is definitely not one of his defining characteristics- I think some people are confusing smart for his actual strength. Connected to his impulsivity, Kai has very good simplistic instincts. He sees the big picture and looks at the most surface level solution- which when the situation calls for it, that does indeed make him smart. But the same logic that led him to think "This snake has a glowing target on its head, lets hit it" also led him to think "I'm in a video game, therefore I am immortal." Are you really going to look at me and say he figured out Lloyd was the green ninja through logical deduction and a careful consideration of the facts? No. He had a gut feeling, and he trusted it. Instincts- instincts paired with his impulsive following of said instincts is what leads him to solve problems- and sometimes, that can be extremely effective. This goes for other ninja too. Jay isn't the smartest ninja- I would really only classify Zane and Nya as having intelligence define them (hence their ship name). But Jay is extremely creative and crafty. He also knows his was around mechanics, and as such, this will lead him to come up with creative tech based solutions which are smart. But, idk about you, if I had to point to another ninja as being 'dumb' it would 100% be Jay. Kai is a lot of things. He's passionate and determined and confident and persistent. He's a good improvisor, he's powerful and he's charming! These are all wonderful qualities, he doesn't also have to be the smart one. I am the worlds biggest Pixal stan, and she's a smart, sassy, powerful character, but I'm not gonna sit here and tell you she's also hilarious and adaptable and strong willed. She's a straight man to all the ninja's antics, extremely tied to her samurai x suit, and lets people push her around all the time. That doesn't mean she can't be funny, or self interested, but when she does act these ways, it stems from her other more prominent qualities. That make sense?

And while we're clearing up what Kai isn't, please stop characterizing Kai as an overly protective brother - especially romantically. The only two times he's been romantically protective to Nya are in Wu's Teas which I mean, come on and in the pilots when Jay is literally a stranger. For crying out loud, by the end of the pilot, he's smiling when Jay and Nya hug. That's not overly protective, that's just normal, any reasonable person would react this way, protective. And it's such a great stereotype break for a kids show like ninjago, having an older brother who actually trusts his younger sister to be her own independent person who can make her own decisions. I mean, I guess it's fine if you HC differently but like... idk, I don't buy it.

Now, is there still room to criticize the writers? Yes. Hell yes. But not to an extent greater than any other character. Could he have had more of a defined reaction to events of the most recent season that I won't name for the sake of spoilers? Yes. But could Zane have reacted for more than .5 seconds at being an evil war lord for apparently 60 years? Yeah. Has Kai taken a back seat in the past 4 seasons? Yeah. But so has Lloyd- and he's literally the main character of the show. Not to mention two of those seasons have gone to people who had to wait over ten seasons to get one to themselves, and one of them is a 40 minute special. Kai's doing just fine.

Anyway. Kai is great. He's a fun, stereotype breaking, impulsively driven, ball of energy and confidence who gets a good amount of screen time and some fun side plots.

One last thing to clear up: no hate to anyone. This isn't targeted at anyone specific, this post has been a long time coming, I've just seen some weird overblown claims on various platforms over the past few months and I finally sat down to write about it.

I like the Kai content we have. After all, if the writers were really that bad at writing him, then no one would like him.

Wow this was so much longer than I thought it would be. Um... if you have other long winded rants you'd like to see from me... let me know I guess?

#ninjago #kai ninjago #kai smith #parachuterants #analysis #lets add this tag: #/lh

[just-here-for-the-moment]

The Wedding Night

Word count: 4900+

Rating: explicit, 18+ only

Outline: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x “You” (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: Jack running his filthy mouth; mentions of virginity and defloration; mentions of lack of experience; gorgeous lingerie; one light spanking; fingering/F receiving; oral sex/F receiving; oral sex/M receiving; unprotected P/V sex in the context of marriage; breeding kink; mentions of anal sex; mentions of blowjobs/gagging; mentions of sex toys/dildos; alcohol; marijuana

@quica-quica-quica - My love, this is what my brain did when we talked about me writing something for you that was "Xtra filthy Whiskey with a little fluff" ... You can drag me off to horny jail now, LOL. My work here is done! :D

A very special Thank You to @babypedrito for beta-reading and absolving me of all of my horny-jail sins.

---

"Are you nervous, honey?"

"No, I don't think so... well, maybe a little. Will it hurt?"

"Oh darlin' I hope not. I'll be real gentle with you."

---

The wedding had been elegant and fun and a little flashy, just like Jack.

The sheer number of guests had been stressful, but you had been blissed out all day, letting Jack spin you around the dance floor as many times as he could at the reception. You didn't want to start your wedding night exhausted, so you and Jack had opted for a mid-morning ceremony followed by a lunch reception. Statesman had splashed out for all of the liquor and an open bar, but you had been so busy greeting your guests and smiling for pictures that you hadn't had time to sip a full glass of champagne, let alone eat anything. The minute you and Jack arrived at your honeymoon suite, he had placed an order for room service and given you orders to eat, shower, and take a nap.

God, you loved that man. He was sassy and stubborn, but he did take excellent care of you.

When you woke, the last of the evening sun was streaming through your balcony doors. You stretched and yawned. The bed was empty, so you wandered out into the sitting room. Poor Jack was half-undressed and passed out on the sofa in front of a muted football game, the TV remote rising and falling on his chest as he snored softly. You shook his arm gently, "Baby?"

His dark eyes popped open and he smiled at you. "Hey, darlin'. Did you get some rest?"

"Yeah, Jack, I did. Thank you."

"Well I can't have you all tuckered out before we even get started. Wouldn't be gentlemanly of me." He winked at you.

You smiled at him and fluttered your eyelashes. "And are we going to get started soon? I'll need to change into my wedding night ensemble."

He sat up and grabbed your arm, pulling you down onto his lap as you squealed.

"Do you have to change? You look just fine as you are, honey."

You laughed. You had napped in an old undershirt of Jack's and nothing else except your wedding and engagement rings. You cooed softly at him as you rubbed your hand against his chest. "But Jack, baby, I bought it just for tonight. We only get to do this once, and I wanted to make it special for you."

He scowled as if he wanted to say no. You decided to pout your lower lip out just a little and sweeten your voice. "Please, baby? Please let me wear my special lingerie for you. It's my first request as your wife."

He pretended that he was giving in resentfully. "Alright, darlin'. If it'll make you happy."

You kissed him on the tip of his nose. "Oh, Jack. I think we'll both be very happy." You stood up off his lap and he swatted your bottom playfully.

"Now, now. None of that." You shook one finger at him playfully. "Just give me a few minutes and you can go lie down in the bedroom while I get ready. I'll meet you in there."

You bounced into the bedroom to grab what you needed, then locked yourself in the bathroom to freshen up. You heard Jack groan as he stretched and got up from the couch, soft footsteps moving to the bedroom. You caught your own eyes in the mirror and grinned. This was going to be so good.

It didn't take you long to get dressed, because your wedding night "ensemble" consisted of just three pieces. You had purchased an ivory-white babydoll nightgown with a big satin bow centered between the lace cups. The gown's skirt was billowy and entirely sheer, and the satin-ribbon hem hit you just at the top of your thighs. The back featured a slit from the band all the way down, forming a flyaway opening. There was a matching ivory lace thong with an open crotch, and you had found coordinating ivory marabou slippers with a kitten heel to tie things off. You were dressed in two minutes. All that was left was a quick touch-up of perfume and mascara, and a few deep breaths.

You opened the door a crack and called out to him. "You ready, baby? No peeking!"

"I'm not peeking."

You poked your head out to see Jack sitting against the pillows on the king-sized bed, hands dutifully placed over both eyes. You slunk out the door and stood at the foot of the bed, tucking and tugging the last tiny adjustments to your outfit. You put your fists on your hips and smiled at him. "Okay, you can look now."

Jack pulled his hands away and you saw his eyes take a half-second to refocus on you. When they did, his jaw dropped. He gave you one long look up and down, and you giggled and spun once to give him the full picture.

"Baby doll," he bit his lip and looked hungry. "You look good enough to eat. You did all that for me?"

You laughed. "All what, Jack? There's hardly any material here."

"Don't I know it." He whistled, long and low. "You want me to leave it all on or rip it off of you?"

You gasped and giggled. "You know I don't know what I'm doing. I guess I'll have to let you decide."

“Oh, baby girl... ” he shook his head and got up off the bed. “I don’t know if I can be in charge of such an important decision.”

“Well then, let’s just play it by ear and we can decide later.” You cocked an eyebrow at him as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Because I am eager to get started.”

He smirked at you and tilted his head. “Is that so?”

“Yes, it’s one of the benefits of being Mrs. Jack Daniels. Now that you’ve made me an honest woman, I finally get to see what all the fuss is about.” You smiled shyly. “Unless, you don’t want to?”

“Now hold on a minute darlin’. You know I’ve been looking forward to tonight.” He kissed you. “I just want to do it right, that’s all. I wanna do right by my wife her first time.”

You bit your lip and looked up at him through your eyelashes. “I know you do, baby. I trust you.”

"Are you nervous, honey?"

"No, I don't think so... well, maybe a little. Will it hurt?"

"Oh darlin' I hope not. I'll be real gentle with you."

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. Jack held you tenderly, taking his time and working your mouth slowly open before plunging in with an eager tongue. The kiss was nothing new to you. You and Jack had kissed like this hundreds of times… but now you were husband and wife, and it was your wedding night.

You let yourself melt into Jack’s embrace, and when the kissing got so good that you moaned, he smiled against your mouth. He moved his lips to plant kisses on your cheek and jaw and neck, murmuring to you in his low, gravelly drawl. “Are you ready?”

You nodded, and then released a breathy, “Yes, Jack. Yes, I’m so ready. Can we please go to bed?”

He pulled back. “Well, I need to know you’re really ready. We only get to do this once.”

You considered for a moment, biting your lip. “I do, I want to. But I’m a little nervous. Can I have some champagne? Just to relax.”

He nodded. “Okay, just one glass though.”

“Thank you, baby. I just want to relax a little bit, not get drunk or anything. I want to remember tonight for the rest of my life.”

He kissed your forehead. “Me, too darlin’.”

You sat on the bed as Jack went out to the living room to retrieve one of the “his and hers” champagne bottles that Champ had sent over, and two champagne flutes. He popped the bottle open and poured two glasses, then sat next to you on the bed.

“Cheers,” you said as you clinked your glass against his. “To us.”

“To us.” Jack sipped his champagne and wrapped his other arm around you, rubbing lazy circles into your back with his thumb. You loved his thick fingers and strong hands. You had seen what they could do with a dangerous whip and lasso, and you trusted him utterly with every part of your body.

When your glasses were empty, you felt a little looser, the edges of your nerves just barely blurred. You smiled at him and handed him your glass to set down on the bedside table. “I’m ready.”

He tucked his head down toward you, slotting his mouth over yours for a deep kiss. “Okay, we’ll get started. Lie down on the bed for me. Scoot back a little.” Jack stood up and faced you.

You lay back and scooted up so that your feet were flat on the bed. The hem of your nightgown slid up and pooled across your hips. Jack kneeled down on the plush carpet and stroked your leg with one strong hand. He lifted one foot and kissed the inside of your ankle softly. You shivered, and he repeated the action with your other ankle.

“Can I take these off?” He tapped the top of one slipper.

You lifted your head to look down at him. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I guess you should take them off.”

“Ain’t nothing to be sorry about, honey. You look amazing.” He slipped them off gently and tossed them theatrically over his shoulders, making you laugh.

“What should I do with my hands?” You wanted to know if you should be doing something other than leaving them palm-side down on the bedspread next to your hips. It felt stiff and awkward.

“Just relax,” said Jack. “You’re doin’ fine.”

You nodded, laying your head back down as he resumed stroking your shin.

“Can I touch you?” He slid his fingers a little higher, grazing the inside of your knee.

“Yes, please.”

He ran his fingers up to the inside of your thigh, sweeping your skin with a soft touch. Each graze of his fingers set your skin on fire, and you felt your anticipation build. You were getting wet; you could feel it, and you knew that it would help with what was coming next.

Jack paused his touch at the outer band of your thong, just at your pelvic bone. “Do you want to leave this on or take it off?

“I don’t know. Um, it’s crotchless, does that make a difference?”

“Not right now, but if it gets uncomfortable we can take it off.”

“Okay, just leave it on then... and thank you.”

“For what?” Jack stroked your lace-covered mound slowly. Little sparks of electricity flew everywhere, buzzing outward from wherever his fingers touched.

“For taking such good care of me. Especially on our wedding night.”

“Oh darlin’, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he drawled. “I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life. I love you.”

“Oh Jack,” you sighed. “I love you, too.”

“I’m going to touch you between your legs now. Just breathe and relax, okay?”

“Okay.”

You felt Jack’s fingers stroke down over your clit and pet you softly there through the lace before moving down. He hooked a strap of the open crotch with his finger and pulled it to the side. The pad of one thick finger paused at your outer labia and you bit the inside of your mouth nervously.

“You ready?” Jack sounded calm.

“Yes, please, baby. Please touch me.”

He answered by spreading your outer lips open and rubbing a line gently up and down over the inner labia, spreading moisture as he went. You were practically dripping for him. He pressed one finger against your opening and applied gentle pressure, letting your slick do the work of guiding his fingertip inside. You felt his thick finger enter slowly, and when it was finally all the way in you exhaled.

“Is that okay, darlin’?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Yes, you feel so good.”

“Okay, I’m going to put another one in. You tell me if it’s too much for you, honey.”

“Yes, Jack.”

He pulled his finger out to the tip and you felt its neighbor join it. The pair pressed into you again, slower than ever. You felt so good, all of your nerve endings sparkling, the wetness growing and growing as Jack worked you open. You could do this forever.

“How are you doing, honey?”

Your voice came out half-whisper, half-gasp. “Ohhhh, Jackie. I feel so good.”

“You sure feel good down here, darlin’. Makes me want to taste you.”

“You can do that?”

“Yes, ma’am. If you give me the go-ahead, I’ll eat you out like a Sunday dinner.”

You laughed, and more tension left your body. “Okay. Yes, please eat me… Wait, can I call it that?”

“If you let me do it, you can call it whatever you want.” He chuckled. “You ready?”

“Oh yes.” You flung your arms up over your head and stretched. “I’m ready, baby.”

Jack left both fingers inserted and used his free hand to open the straps of your thong wider. You felt cool air hit your clitoris and you shuddered. Then Jack’s warm lips met your intimate center and you moaned.

“Oh, Jackie. You feel so good. I can’t believe we’ve never done this before.”

He pulled back, sounding almost plaintive. “You said you wanted to wait until the wedding night, darlin’. I was just followin’ orders.”

“Well I’m glad we’re doing it now.”

“Me, too.” He kissed your clitoris again and you gasped. The contact sent sparks racing up your spine. Your legs shook and threatened to close around his head.

“Keep ‘em open for me, darlin’. I want to see this pretty pussy as I taste it.”

You shifted your feet a little further apart. “Is this good?”

“Oh, it’s good, honey. You should see yourself, all spread out for me on our weddin’ night. If I’d known you were going to look like this, I would’ve married you the day we met.”

You lifted your head to look down at him again. “Are you going to keep talking, or are you gonna eat me?”

He didn’t answer, but plunged his tongue out to flick your clit . Your hips bucked and he pulled his fingers out gently. He reached up and tugged at the front of your thong. “Can I take this off? It’ll be easier access.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

He hooked the side straps away from your hips and you lifted your butt to help him slide it off. He threw it to the side and wrapped his strong grip around your thighs as he lowered his mouth to you again.

His kisses and licks were urgent, an open-mouthed assault on your tender and swollen pussy as you writhed and squeaked. His iron grip on your upper legs kept you anchored to him, even as you shifted across the bedspread. You had no sense of time passing; it could have been seconds or minutes later when you felt your orgasm build until you thought you were going to snap.

“Jack! Oh fuck... Jack, I’m gonna come. I’m coming for you now!” Your moans and shouts didn’t phase him, he just kept licking and slurping at you as your pussy throbbed and clenched around his tongue. He slowed his pace just a little as you climaxed, and kept holding you tight as he kissed you more gently, bringing you down with him as you finally relaxed.

You came back to yourself after a few moments, your breathing slowing into something more normal. Jack lifted his head and relaxed his grip on you. “How was that, honey?”

“Oh, Jesus, Jack,” you gasped. “For chrissakes. I think I saw stars.”

He chuckled and stood up. His face was wet from nose to chin, mustache slick, hair mussed and eyes twinkling. He was absolutely wicked. You couldn’t believe he was finally yours.

You sat up and hugged him around his waist, resting one ear against his tummy. “Ohhh, thank you, Jack. That was absolutely wonderful.”

He petted your hair as you squeezed him. “You’re welcome, baby girl. Do you feel good?”

“Yes, Jack. Oh, I feel amazing.”

“Do you want to try now?”

You pulled away and looked up at him, eager to try anything he wanted. “Try what?”

Jack took a half step back and shed his suit pants, then his undershirt and briefs and socks. You watched as he undressed, taking in the sight of his strong arms and hands. Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, growing bigger by the second. When he was naked he gave himself a few lazy pumps and then cupped your chin with his free hand. He looked deep into your eyes with that calm, authoritative manner of his.

“You just kiss it around the tip a little and then open your mouth, darlin’. I’ll show you what to do after that.”

You grinned and nodded up at him. “Okay.”

You looked back down at him, at his fist wrapped around the base of his hard, dark cock. Every pump of his heart was sending more blood to his erection. The head of his penis was nearly maroon, and you wanted more than anything to give him the release he had given you so freely.

You leaned forward hesitantly and placed a few soft kisses to the sides of the head, next to the slit of him that was growing damp. Tiny pecks turned into softer smooches, and Jack waited patiently while you got your fill of the experience. The sensation of his velvety skin on your lips was enticing, and you found yourself moaning and drawing out the kisses for longer and longer.

Finally Jack tapped your shoulder, indicating you to stop. He brought his large hand up to cup your chin gently. “You ready, honey? You can open up if you’re ready to try.”

You nodded and opened your mouth obediently, as wide as you could, tongue hanging out. Jack laughed gently.

“Relax, darlin’. You don’t have to unhinge your jaw. Just open up like you’re going to take a taste of something delicious, ‘cause you are.”

You relaxed, letting your mouth close a bit. Jack placed the tip of his penis just inside your lips and took his hand off your jaw. He let it rest on your tongue and then he slowly slid it from side to side as he shifted just a bit deeper.

“You can suck on it if you want, real gentle.” Jack’s voice was encouraging, his drawl low and husky.

You closed your lips gently around the head and gave one experimental suck, like a lollipop. Jack pumped his fist up and down gently, “That’s it, darlin’, real slow and soft.”

You switched between soft sucks of the head and open-mouthed licks, feeling awfully pleased at the huffy breaths and moans that were coming out of Jacks’ mouth above you.

“God, honeybee. Is this your first time giving a man a blowjob?”

“Mmm-hmm,” you hummed.

“Well, darlin’ you’re doing just fine.” Jack brought his free hand to cup the back of your head. “Are you ready to go deeper?”

You flicked your eyes up to him, giving him a wide, innocent stare as you pulled off. “Deeper? How deep does it go?”

“Oh, all the way, darlin’. I think you can fit all of me into that sinful little mouth of yours.”

You looked from his dark eyes to his penis and back again. “Are you sure? I won’t choke on it?”

“Oh, no. I’ll be gentle, honey. We’ll go real slow and get you used to it.”

You nodded and opened your mouth again. Jack placed the head of his penis back on your tongue and you closed your lips gently around it. He removed his fist and then placed both hands on the sides of your head.

“Go slow, honey.”

You looked back up at him to see that he was gazing at you tenderly, enchanted by the sight of his cock disappearing into your soft mouth. He grinned softly at you. “Just go slow.”

You closed your eyes so that you could concentrate on it. He held your head gently between his big hands as you relaxed your jaw and throat, trying to take him as deep as you could. When the head hit the back of your tongue, Jack held it there and moaned soft praises to you.

“Oh baby girl, you are just perfect. Look how I fit in that sweet little mouth of yours.”

You glowed at his praises and pressed just a bit deeper. When the head hit the back of your throat, Jack made a soft hiss and pulled himself out.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Did I do okay, baby?”

“Oh honey, yes. You did great, but if we keep doing that I’m not gonna last long, and we won’t get to the main event.”

You giggled. “Okay, where do you want me baby?”

“Why don’t you lie back on those big pillows and just relax, darlin’.”

You scooted up to the top of the bed and lay flat. “Like this?”

“Yes, darlin’. Just like that, pretty as a picture.” Jack knelt on the bed and crawled up to you. He reminded you of some jungle cat stalking its prey. He was going to devour you.

“Do I need to take my nightgown off?”

“Only if you want to, but it won’t get in my way.”

You nodded. “Then I’ll leave it on, I like it.”

“That’s fine with me, honey. Are you ready for me?”

You nodded vigorously. “Yes, Jack. I’ve been waiting so long. Please.”

He lay next to you and stroked you from hip to breast, cupping you through the lace before running his hand back down. He lifted the hem of your nightgown and pressed two thick fingers to your entrance. “You’re still so wet for me, but I have lube if you need it.”

You shook your head, “No, I think I’ll be okay.”

He assented. “Alright, but if you need it, you just say so and I’ll stop.”

“Okay, baby.” You cupped his jaw and kissed him deeply. “I love you, my husband.”

His face broke into a soft smile. “And I love my wife. Can’t believe I’m so lucky.”

“To find a virgin for your wedding night? Something special to deflower, that no one else has ever touched?”

“No, just to find you.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Even if you weren’t a virgin I’d still love you, still be the luckiest man alive to have you on my wedding night.”

Tears sprang to your eyes at his tender words, threatening to overspill. “Oh, Jack. I love you so much.”

He continued caressing you with his fingers. “I love you, honey. You think you’re ready for me now?”

“Yes, Jack, please please please. Right now.”

“Alright.” He shifted up to hover over you. “Just open your legs and relax your hips. I’ll be extra gentle.”

You did as he asked, releasing one slow breath out through an o-shaped mouth. He pressed the tip of his penis to your opening, then looked at you one last time with eyebrows raised for permission. You nodded and said, “Go ahead.”

He pressed in slowly, stretching you open. He felt so big and hard and glorious as he slid between your walls. The wetness in your core provided so much glide that he got all the way inside before you even realized it. He bottomed out and stopped, holding himself up on his arms to look into your eyes. You could feel your own slick mixed with Jack’s saliva drip down between your cheeks.

“Are you alright, darlin?”

You smiled, “Oh, I’m more than alright, Jack. My husband just took my virginity on our wedding night.”

He leaned down and kissed you. “I’m going to start moving in and out now, but if you need me to stop, just say so.”

You nodded. Jack started easing his hips in and out, and you could feel every steel inch of him sliding in and out. You felt another orgasm starting to build. “Oh, Jackie, I think I’m going to come for you again. Can you touch me down there?”

He shifted back to his knees and reached one broad thumb to swipe your clit. “God, honey, you’re so wet for me.”

You barely heard him as the room started to get fuzzy. You felt the dam threaten to burst, and you managed to gasp out, “I’m co-” before you bucked your hips again and came hard, clenching around his cock as he slowly pumped in and out.

“Oh fuck, baby girl. You should see yourself. That greedy little pussy is trying to eat me alive. I’m not gonna last much longer. Can I go faster?”

You moaned, “Oh my god, yes. Go for it.”

Jack took his finger off your clit and pumped just a little faster. “Oh fuck, baby girl. Where do you want me to come?”

“Inside, Jack. We’re man and wife now. You can fill me up and I’ll give you gorgeous babies.”

“Oh honey, I just want to fuck you and watch you get so round. You’re going to be pregnant before you know it.”

“Yes, Jack! Yes!”

“You gonna have my babies? You want all of me?” His words were exhaled in rough gasps. “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you. You won’t be able to get rid of me, you gorgeous girl. Gonna carry a part of me around with you for the rest of your days.”

You felt one more impossible rush of slick dripping from your pussy at his words, and you simply moaned, incapable of speech.

Jack suddenly fell onto you, face buried in your neck, and you felt him thrust hard and then stop. Something hot was releasing inside your pussy, and you whimpered and stroked the back of his head.

“Oh, Jack. I think I love you.”

He groaned into your shoulder, the words muffled. “I love you, too, darlin’.”

---

“Jesus Christ, Jack. That was amazing.” You took a sip of your champagne and passed the joint over to his side of the bed. “That was better than that time in Cancún!”

Jack laughed and choked on his toke, then passed it back to you. “God, I loved Cancún.” He took a long drink of champagne. “Was that the time I fucked you so hard the neighbors called the cops?”

You giggled. “No, that was that shitty little hostel in Amsterdam while we were on assignment, remember?” You took another puff and thought while you held it in, then you blew out a long string of smoke. “No, wait, it was Belgium.”

“That was fun.” Jack grinned to himself. “Remember Italy?”

“Which time? The yacht off the coast, or that blow job outside the Colosseum that one time at 3 a.m.?” You passed the weed back to him.

“Oh, Christ, honeybee. I forgot about the Colosseum.” He took a long toke and another thoughtful sip from his glass. “But that yacht was fucking amazing. I was balls-deep in you under that blue Mediterranean sky. God, you were so sexy in that little swimsuit you were wearing. Made me wanna marry you right there.”

“Aw, you old softie. You’re such a sweetheart.”

He handed the roach back to you to finish. “Remember L.A.? You looked so good gagging on my cock in that bathroom, mascara runnin’ all down your face. I almost felt bad it was a convenience store. I should have taken you back to the hotel first.”

“No way! That was hot. I had that plug in my ass all day, and you did me just fine when we got back. I couldn’t sit right for three days.” You threw your head back and laughed, nearly upsetting the bottle of champagne and the Altoids tin full of joints sitting on your lap.

Jack reached a hand out to steady the bottle. You fished a fresh joint out of the tin and closed the lid. A thought occurred to you as you lit it.

You exhaled and turned to him with wide eyes. “Holy shit, Jack. I should’ve bought my vibrating panties. Maybe we can run out tomorrow and buy a new pair.”

“Nah, they never get you off right. You said they move around too much.” He took the joint from you and drained the last of his champagne. “How about a new vibrator instead?”

“Okay, but tomorrow night it’s your turn to be the virgin.”

He exhaled a huge lungful of smoke and passed the joint back to you, waving his hand to indicate he was done. “Alright, but you have to promise not to be gentle. Can we do college professor and failing student?”

“Mmmm…” you thought for a moment. “Yes, but only if I get to spank you.”

“You got it, honey.”

You leaned over and kissed him. “God, I love my husband.”

He smiled at you and took your empty glass. “I love you, darlin’.”

--- Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

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#kingsman fanfiction #kingsman fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent jack whiskey daniels #you ask and JHFTM delivers

[cyoc49]

Golly, Archie!

[Based on an inbox request sent to me by @tfkinky ]

Hiram Lodge stood in front of the mirror and adjusted his tie. Today, as with every day, he looked his best and most professional. The crisp black dress shirt wrapped around his powerful chest, his strong arms were hugged by a deep blue suit coat, and a matching tie perfectly pulled the look together. His eyebrows were neatly shaped. His hair... not a strand out of place. He radiated power, and for a good reason: Hiram Lodge basically owned Riverdale.

He was close to literally owning Riverdale, but he had two items left on his to-do list: Archie Andrews and Jughead Jones. At his every chance to claim total control, those two thugs somehow managed to thwart his plans at the last second. If he could get rid of them, nothing would stop him.

And as it turned out, there might be a way to get rid of them.

In a particular moment of desperation, Hiram had made his way to a local witches’ coven. There, he had learned an interesting fact: there was an alternate version of Riverdale in a local parallel universe. One where life was very, very different.

After a series of shady deals with the witches, Hiram was taught a spell which could be used to completely rewrite the reality of an individual and slip them into this alternate universe. Only in his case, it would be two individuals.

Now, Hiram walked over to his desk. He had drawn a pentagram and lit candles as instructed by the witches, and spread out in the middle were pages from a 1950’s comic, showing teenagers living in the time period. On top of the comic pages were two photos: one of Archie, and one of Jughead. Hiram made small cuts in each of his palms, and held them palms-down over the photos. As his blood dripped onto the setup, Hiram chanted:

Little boys who think they’re cool.

Hot shots, now made into fools.

No longer swear, no longer act mean.

Learn to say golly, nifty, and keen.

Slick your hair and dance the jive.

Welcome to 1955.

With each word, the photos began to warp and shake as if they were water. Slowly the photos began to almost melt into the comic, until they disappeared from the table completely. Instead, the comics now featured two new characters: goofy looking 50’s versions of his former foes. The candles blew out.

Hiram smiled to himself. What fun they’ll have

Archie wiped sweat off his brow. He had been mowing lawns and trimming hedges all day. In an effort to make some extra cash on the side he had started his own lawn care service for the good people of Riverdale. It was tough work, but the money was nice. And he got to walk around shirtless all day, which was a nice plus.

As he threw down another bag of clippings, Archie heard a voice in his head.

“You’re a good boy, Archie.”

Archie paused. He looked around. There was nobody else on the street right now. Had he imagined that? He shook his head and went back to work.

... but even as he worked, Archie couldn’t stop thinking of that little voice. The phrase “good boy” stuck with him, and bounced around in his head like a lone thought running free. Archie had never considered himself one of those goody two-shoes guys. Given everything that happened in this town, everyone had to have a bit of dirt on on their hands. But what if he didn’t? What if he had the chance to do better, wash his hands off and dedicate his life to being a good son and a good member of the community. Well, gosh, wouldn’t that be something?

Before these thoughts went any further, Archie snapped back into the moment. It was a nice idea, but this was his life.

“You’re a well-behaved, well-mannered boy.”

He hear the voice from nowhere again, and this time it sounded even more persuasive. Unconsciously, Archie shifted his back and stood straight, rigid as a board. It was like second nature - without thinking, Archie knew to look upright and presentable at all times. After all, that was the way any well-behaved boy should act.

And as he shifted into a proper posture, he felt a wave of Euphoria was over himself. Standing tall allowed him to push out his chest and show off his arms, after all. He smiled a wide, wide smile. Acting in this way, being a good boy, it made him feel indescribably happy... and also a bit horny. There was a strange feeling bubbling inside of him, growing stronger with every second. A feeling of peppiness, and perkiness. Archie knew it was right to help people. Gosh, that’s what good guys do, right? That’s why I’m mowing my neighbors lawns for free, Archie thought to himself. But no - that’s not right. No, I’m trying to make money... aren’t I? Archie felt confused, like his truth was being clouded and replaced by a new preppy reality that was only getting more intense. Golly, how much farther could this go?

“You have sharp dress style.”

With those words, the few clothes Archie was wearing flew off his body. He immediately moved to cover himself up, until the wave of preppy euphoria relaxed him again. He didn’t really miss his old clothes that much. Sloppy jeans and t shirts? And he had the audacity to walk around shirtless? Unacceptable, Archie thought to himself. I can’t look sloppy, I’m 18 for Pete’s sake! I should be dressed to the nines at all times!

The universe seemed to comply with Archie’s new thoughts as a fresh set of clothes wrapped themselves around him. 1950’s style tighty whities slip up and covered his private areas, nicely cupping his sizeable package and perfectly outlining his firm, round buttocks. The waist band went up to his high waist in that classic 50’s style, a style that Archie was coming to think of as his own.

A white dress shirt appeared next, buttoning itself up to the very top button. The shirt was tight against Archie’s beefcake body, and the outline of his pecs and arms could be seen through the shirt, a feeling Archie didn’t mind. The shirt had a small polka dot pattern on it, but of course it did. Archie loved fun patterns on his clothes! Sometimes he wore multiple bright patterns just to feel extra nifty.

Today was one of those days, apparently, as wool dress slacks with a plaid pattern slid up Archie’s thick legs, coming to rest at his high waist. Through the pants the outline of his full buttocks could be seen. The shirt tucked itself into his pants. As if I would ever go anywhere with my shirt untucked! Archie wanted to guffaw at the thought!

A plaid green bow tie wrapped itself around Archie’s neck into a perfect bow (Archie had mastered the art of tying a bow tie many years ago. He hardly left the house without one). As it locked into place, the wide smile on Archie’s face got wider. He felt absolutely giddy in these clothes. Golly, he loved to dress crisp like this! It made him feel real boss.

Pristine white dress socks rolled up his feet, and wingtip loafers wrapped around them. The shoes were brown leather, so perfectly polished that Archie could see his reflection in them. He polished his shoes every night, he liked to keep them looking a spiffy as possible. A matching brown leather belt, just as polished, cinched his waist, further defining his beefy build.

Over the top of the whole ensemble, a knit sweater vest appeared, in a deep blue. Emblazoned on the front was a gold “R” - for Riverdale High, of course! Archie loved his school and had a number of sweater vests, sweaters, ties, caps, and other pieces of merchandise for the school. He loved to incorporate them into his look - Riverdale’s quarterback should show his school pride, after all!

“You look clean-cut and presentable at all times.”

Archie’s hair ruffled as gel began to flow through it and lock it in a slicked back position. His signature red locks now looked like a plastic helmet on top of his head, perfectly styled into a neat all-American side part (the way every man’s hair should look!), and lightened until it was almost a cartoonish orange.

Archie’s bushy eyebrows slimmed out, taking on a clean styled look, and the pores on his face vanished. Archie how had an impossibly clear and bright complexion, aside from a smattering of freckles across his checks. His teeth straightened into a perfect row. His eyes shined a bright blue, even if his gaze was now a bit mindless.

Archie’s look had totally transformed. He no longer looked like the tough jock he was before. He now dressed like a total square. But Archie didn’t care, he thought his dress style was neato! An artificial perfection settled over his whole look, locking Archie in plasticine preppiness.

Archie rubbed his new clothes. Gosh, he enjoyed the feeling of them so much. As his fingers circled his chest, he heard several more words from the voice, only now he willingly welcomed them:

“You obey your parents, Archie.”

“You follow all orders you’re given.”

“You always hold the door open for those behind you.”

“You’d never do something without asking first.”

“You always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.”

“You are a good boy, Archie.”

With every command that rang through his vacant head, Archie’s wide smile only got wider. The perky feeling was growing. It wasn’t just in his stomach, it had spread through his arms and legs, into his fingers and toes and into every hair on his head. On a molecular level, Archie felt like a keen all-American teen. A swell guy who helped old ladies cross the street, always had dates home by 10PM sharp, and ended nearly every sentence with “sir” or “ma’am” when talking to an adult.

Archie’s connection to this Riverdale was fading. The squeaky clean school boy now had little in common with the unforgiving town he had grown up in. Instead, he was coming into alignment with the other Riverdale, the one where wholesome American values had never gone out of style. His memories had also shifted from the old Riverdale to the new, as he only ever remembered the 1950’s haven as his home.

But there was so much to do there! Heading to the malt shop! Going to sock hops with Betty and Ronnie! Listening to records! Gee whiz, Archie enjoyed his Riverdale life so much, he wanted to be there right now!

“Archie, it’s time to go home.”

For a brief second, Archie’s head spun as the world flashed and shifted around him.

Only for a brief second, though. After that, it was back to the setting Archie knew and loved. Technicolor houses, white picket fences. Children playing in the street. Home. Archie sighed and smiled. He was at peace here.

Suddenly, Archie remembered his plans for the day. He was going to pick up Veronica and take her to Pop’s. Without missing a beat, Archie ran to Veronica’s house. His knock on the door was answered by this Riverdale’s version of Veronica, sporting a prim blouse and skirt, with bobbed hair.

“Hiya, Ronnie!” Archie exclaimed with a wide grin.

“Hey there, Archiekins!” Veronica pulled Archie into a hug.

The two embraced for a moment and looked at each other sweetly. It was puppy love, plain and simple. Archie always wanted a girl to be sweet for, and Ronnie was the right one for him. And if he was lucky, they might get to play some backseat bingo in his station wagon later.

“Ready to go, sweetie?” Archie asked. Veronica responded with a nod, and the two made their way to Pop’s to split a sundae. Another perfect Riverdale day!

———————————————————————

Jughead paced the floor of his dad’s trailer. He’d been tipped off by a connection on the outskirts of town that Hiram Lodge had been seen paying a visit to the local coven. That could only mean he was up to trouble. Jughead had been trying to contact Archie all day, but his friend had seemingly gone off the grid. Jughead was getting concerned that it wasn’t a coincidence. If Hiram was resorting to black magic, Jughead had no idea what to expect or how to respond. As much research as he did, that was one area he did not mess with.

But now Jughead felt like he was at the end of his line. Hiram had tried multiple times to take him and Archie out, and if he had finally figured out a way, Riverdale was doomed.

He had to contact the witches. That was the only way, Jughead decided. He would drive out there and convince them to undo whatever Hiram had them do. He would beg, make them see that the safety of Riverdale was on the line. It wasn’t his best plan, but it would have to work. It would have to.

Jughead picked up his keys, but dropped them again just as quickly after a booming voice echoed inside his head.

“You’re a good boy, Jughead.”

He couldn’t move. He knew this was the end. But even scarier than the absolute terror he was feeling in the face of defeat, was the fact that those feelings of terror were disappearing. As much as he didn’t want to listen to the voice, the phrase “good boy” just refused to go away. It comforted him, the idea of giving in. Jughead had worked for so long to be a total nonconformist, and yet in this moment he wanted nothing more than to just fit on. Be one of the boys.

Jughead was terrified by the thoughts he heard and felt. He was fighting to hold on to his consciousness, but it was quickly becoming a losing battle.

“You’re a goofy, fun-loving guy.”

Jughead chuckled. He sure did feel that way sometimes. All throughout high school he had been a class clown, always making light of the situation. It was just his way of seeing the world. He liked to make people laugh, but nobody laughed louder than he did at himself.

“You are always dressed in a clean, respectable fashion.”

Jughead’s denim jacket and flannel disappeared from his body. Jughead didn’t mind too much. He wasn’t the kind of guy to dress to the nines, but he did think that every young guy should know how to dress. Jughead kept it simple, but he kept it clean.

To highlight this point, a blue turtleneck sweater popped up around his slender frame, leaving him feeling very comfortable.

White briefs wrapped up his nether regions like a Christmas present, and black dress slacks covered the top of them. The pants were freshly ironed, with visible pleats down the front. Jughead always wore clean clothes!

White tube socks rolled up his legs, and over the top of them came a fresh pair of Chuck Taylor All Stars. Jughead sighed with relief as he wriggled his toes around inside the shoes. Nothing made him feel more boss than a pair of Chucks.

On top of his head, Jughead’s beanie had reformed as a paper crown, his trademark accessory. Jughead didn’t know how he had started wearing it or why he still did, but it sure was fun! And it matched his goofy personality well.

“Your appearance is just as well groomed as your clothes.”

Jughead’s long, unkempt hair was pulled to the side and perfectly groomed into a side part, shortening down in the process to a fresh cut. His teeth whitened and his skin cleared up, just as it had for Archie. Jughead now looked like a perfect model for a Normal Rockwell painting.

Jughead loved the way he looked. This was who he was: just one of the guys, always ready to join in on plans, but never looking to stand out. He was a lovable goofball, and he wore his reputation with pride.

Jughead stood in place, enjoying the feel of his new getup, as more commands piled into his head.

“You love to eat.”

Food was one thing he couldn’t get enough of. He often had multiple hamburgers at Pop’s, and always had snacks no matter where he went.

Jughead let out a low burp. His stomach rumbled, then expanded under his sweater, reflecting his new big eater tendencies. Jughead enjoyed his little pot belly. He chuckled thinking about it.

“You love to laugh.”

And as he did, his chuckle turned into a full-bellied laugh, sending waves of joy throughout his body. His laugh began to take on a honking quality as the tip of his nose expanded to a bulbous shape.

“You are slow-witted, but keen and well-mannered.”

The light behind Jughead’s eyes faded. His journalistic wit and hard-hitting problem solving skills were gone. As Jughead’s goofy personality took over, he felt his care for school and work disappear. He didn’t like to try too hard, raised people’s expectations of him too much. And besides, that school stuff was so hard. Why not take life easy?

“You love to joke, dance, and do other fun-loving, innocent teenage activities.”

Jughead smiled as he remembered his Riverdale. A town where all his best pals were, and where he got to enjoy his neighborhood and all the pleasant people within. It made Jughead happy to think of his Riverdale. He never had to try hard there. Eating burgers and drinking shakes were his highest priorities. The most work he did was cracking a joke in response to Archie’s latest goof.

Jughead kept thinking about his town and how swell he felt when he was there, and realized he wanted nothing more than to be back. Back in his 1950’s home.

With perfect timing, the final command came.

“Time to go home, Jughead.”

Jughead spun, and so did the world. Then, half a second later, everything was back to normal. He was at home, in the suburbia of good ol’ Riverdale. The sun was shining high and proud, and for the 782nd day in a row there was not a cloud in the sky. Jughead knew this was where he belonged.

And just his luck. Across the street was none other than his best pal Archie Andrews! Archie was with Veronica, but was grinning ear-to-ear as he saw Jughead, and Jughead felt the same way as he saw his buddy. Jughead ran across the street to join them (after looking both ways first, of course).

“Howdy Jug! Boy, you have no idea how glad I am to see you!” Archie exclaimed.

“Right back at ya, Archie! Gosh, I’ve been looking for you all over!”

The two pals exchanged perfect white smiles, filled to the brim with glee. What could be better than life in Riverdale, with good buds and great manners?

Archie opened his mouth again “Hey Jug, Ronnie and I were about to go to Pop’s. Wanna tag along?”

“Golly, Archie! You know I can’t say no to Pop’s!”

The three friends all laughed in unison. They turned and began to walk down the street. The sun was shining on another perfect Riverdale day, and it was only noon! Who knew what kind of wacky adventures they could get in today?

TWO WEEKS LATER

Hiram sat and enjoyed a celebratory glass of wine. It had taken several nights of hard bargaining with Mayor McCoy to get what he wanted, but after pointing out the town’s high crime rate and lack of development (and also after making a few “charitable donations”), Hiram got what he finally wanted: ownership of Riverdale. He now truly felt on top of the world.

“This morning’s paper, sir.”

Hiram turned his head to watch as Smithers, the Lodge family’s long time assistant, came in to the room. Hiram thanked Smithers as he left a copy of the morning’s Riverdale Registrar on the table. Hiram truly didn’t care about most of the tat in that paper, even though he was technically it’s owner. But he flipped through, looking for one section that he had recently insisted they add.

“Bingo!” Hiram found what he was looking for as he flipped to the comics page. There at the top was a full-color page of comics labeled Archie and Friends. In today’s installment, Archie (clad in the most garish red bow tie Hiram had ever seen) was helping the neighbor’s kid find his model plane, before being tricked and falling into a swimming pool. Hiram found himself laughing. Archie had always been a gullible fool, it was nice to see that reflected in his new persona. And there right next to him was Jughead, laughing along and eating a sandwich.

Hiram enjoyed seeing what his two former nemeses were up to. He now had a copy of the Registrar delivered to his office every day so he could observe their ridiculously corny adventures. His eyes rolled along the page, looking at the various scenarios the boys found themselves in.

His eyes stopped at the end of the page where the strip had introduced a new character, and older gentleman in a waistcoat with slicked back hair.

And his blood froze as he saw Archie call this new character “Mr. Lodge”.

...Coincidence, surely? There was a Veronica in the strip, so maybe this Mr. Lodge was just her alternate universe father. Why on earth would he be in the strip?

Then, Hiram knew exactly why. In order to convince the witches to hand over their secrets, Hiram had promised to grant the witches legal ownership of their coven’s land, as it was within town limits. Hiram had of course told them what they wanted to hear, but in his legal proceedings earlier that day, he had laid out plans to turn the woodland containing the coven into a tourist lodge.

And somehow, they had found out.

Hiram maintained his composure, even as panic rose inside him. He had faced tougher foes before, and he wasn’t about to let a group of hokey witches take him down. He just had to think of what to do.

Only it was becoming terribly hard for Hiram to think, because a new voice was speaking to him:

“You’re a good boy, Hiram.”

#preppy #preppy tf #preppytf #stepfordization #bowtie #sweater vest #riverdale #archie andrews #Jughead #riverdale tf #suitandtie #suittf #suit tf

[betweentheracks]

We*bo Night Style Review

The following is my insight and perception as a professional stylist and is subjective to my position and role. 

Long post is long. 

Starting from the first I saw, I will address Yibo's blue Chanel number. This look pulls directly from Chanel's Spring 2021 Ready-to-Wear line. It is paired with Jimmy Choo Mocca loafers and a beret which has a badge on it bearing "my own private planet" on it. This is a cute accessory for the The Little Prince homage alone. I won’t go into how fitting it is for Yibo to pull from this beloved book as it would make this post needlessly gushy and too long, just know that I have had loud feelings about it all day. 

Honestly, I was underwhelmed upon first impression when I saw this fit. Setting aside my own personal dislike of Chanel, the overall feel of this look didn't catch nor meet what I would have expected to see. It held a cute air of youth to it and played upon the boyish charm Yibo simply cannot be rid of thanks to his facial structure and features. It is jarring for me to write about Chanel in conjunction to "youthful, boyish charms" as Chanel caters near exclusively to women with deep pockets that enjoy looking as if they corner the ideal of being a Stepford Wife, no matter the age. 

However, Yibo has always successfully turned Chanel's overt "Emily Gilmore" aesthetic on its head and has singlehandedly returned Chanel to being in the ranks of fashion which are aimed at younger to middle range adults. Tonight is no exception to this as he did look wonderful. The accessories and the shirt are all also Chanel and initially debuted in as an ensemble when this Spring 2021 Ready-to-Wear line was trotted out at the end of last year. In my opinion as a professional and critical eye, Yibo wore this look better than the original model. The way his hair stylist did his hair with micro extensions and false locks to give him that additional length and furthering the ideal of youthful leisure really made this style snap off. 

Some notes on the pieces in play: 

This is not the first time Yibo has worn this specific collection of Chanel’s. His styles from Tencent Star Awards were also from this range. 

This collection was inspired by actresses of the vintage screen. Virginie Viard has commented that she wanted to capture the duality of modern actress lifestyles - high production value and quality of the red carpet service styles, to the staged nuance of being off screen and therefore off duty while waiting in line for coffee - framed by classic lines of the bygone Hollywood era. Yibo specifically seems drawn to the separates-based mix of the set, which were all styled from the draw of the 1980s - hence the shoulder pads and candy colors of pink and now blue. I feel it is worth mentioning that when this line debuted the runway many comments flew about how the collection felt very reminiscent of looking at Regina George inspired couture. Mean Girls, but make it Wang Yibo. 

The mini purse around his waist is actually a necklace, not a belt. 

He is wearing the Coco Crush ring. This item is peak comfort item material as he seems incredibly keen on wearing it whenever possible and is unabashed to have it called to attention. There is a story behind this ring, of this my professional chimes are ringing loudly in certainty. 

My impression of this style changed drastically the more I looked at it and marveled at the almost pale vulnerability the look managed to pluck upon. The color is flattering despite it being candy-bright and almost too pigmented to think of as a functional red carpet choice. Also, I strongly suspect the play here was to highlight the duality of Yibo himself since the style he served up immediately after this completely overwhelms the fawning spring of this style. 

Wang Yibo 2.0

This second look features Fendi, Patek Philippe, and Louboutin. The blazer is a Fendi black wool piece and the shirt, also Fendi, is from their lovely Spring/Summer 2021 collection. The watch is Patek Philippe and further showcases Yibo’s taste for expensive and bold watches and it’s actually incredibly admirable for him to use watches as an accessory which seals the deal on an ensemble. There aren’t many that can pull this off due to how often watches remain hidden by the cuffs and sleeves of jackets and shirts and therefore go unnoticed or are seen as bulky obstructions and are being slowly and steadily phased out from being considered staples of style. Of course the shoes are Louboutin, which is just a nice choice no matter what. Solid footwear; sleek and stylish no matter what. 

If I was initially underwhelmed by the previous fashion choice then this look did more than simply overwhelm me; it devastated me and left me gaping. The! Hair! The black on black silhouette! The way he flawlessly transitioned from being youthfully boyish and bursting with charm to a domineering presence of matured angles and sharp zeal!! Wang Yibo with an undercut and draped in matte black Fendi is enough to score through my bingo card of styles I was unprepared for and yet thankfully blessed by. 

Some notes on the pieces in play:

While the Fendi blazer isn’t altogether spectacular and one of their more run of the mill items, the shirt beneath and the collection it was pulled from are interesting. The Spring/Summer 2021 Fendi line caters to the celebration of love and the surreal intensity of what a domestic experience quarantine and lockdown was like. The menswear was notably designed as “boardroom to boudoir” meaning that the concept was embellished loose linens which could be tucked into a business or formal setting only to later be tugged free and worn sweetly casual, bordering intimate. 

This is the shirt in it’s full glory. It isn’t something you would expect to be expertly tucked into the slim lines of Yibo’s stature and one can imagine how it must appear when it left to fall loose around his lean frame. It is a bed shirt in essence and was utilized in such a way that it looks like an entirely new garment on him.  

And now we move along to Xiao Zhan and his timeless and classic style.

A man of brand/designer solidarity, he is decked from head to toe in Gucci. I won a bet on this as I wagered he would absolutely be in his chosen favorite. The brooch is another staple in his fashion repertoire and is a Tiffany & Co. item. 

He appears very timeless in these classic and clean lines. This is a straight fit wool suit which Gucci favors in tailoring to accentuate slim and tall builds and as such drapes over Zhan’s body as if it were an extension of his body itself. The fit is that perfect. He strikes me as looking very refined and noble in this suit; mature and aloof. 

Some notes on the pieces in play:

Gucci has a reputation for constantly improving the way they tailor suits and as such this “relaxed straight fit” is exclusive to their label. Any other fashion house has slim fits, which are the original frame for this style, but entirely different in how Gucci has renovated the way it all fits and hangs. They alter jackets to be comfortably loose along the back of the neck while remaining pleasantly tucked to accentuate the lines of the shoulders, arms, and chest. The pants are brought in at the waist to make slim appear sleek, and the fall straight through the legs to provide the air of being relaxed. 

The brooch he is wearing, “Four Leaves” by Jean Schlumberger via Tiffany & Co, is an antique item as Schlumberger was alive from 1907 to 1987. Schlumberger is only one of four designers ever given allowance to sign their work to Tiffany & Co. He created the collection the “Four Leaves” brooch hails from at behest of a friend and fellow admirer of nature’s glory, Rachel “Bunny” Mellon. The irony of Xiao Zhan, resident rabbit,  wearing a piece created on the request of someone called Bunny is not lost to me and hopefully not any of you now that I’ve made mention of it. 

The gemstone in the brooch is blue-green tourmaline. Tourmaline has many different correspondences depending on the color at hand. Blue-green rouses luck and success and is often used to manifest goals, notably of a creative nature. It is also a crystal of peace and encourages the release of past hurts by bringing them to the surface to be healed via honest and heartfelt communication. Tourmaline can evolve as it is worn and will adhere to the wearer’s conviction, rousing the idea of living a life of integrity and accountability; inviting the wearer to accept any perceived flaws and weaknesses with easy tolerance. I am making this mention because every bit of this seems so incredibly in line with where Xiao Zhan is in life and in his career, especially in light of what he so graciously said on we*bo yesterday as we made it to a year since hell came for him. I am always very moved by this man. 

Here is the brooch just so you can have a proper look:

And that’s a wrap on We*bo Night’s lookbook! 

This is a bit of a messy post and I do apologize for that, but nevertheless I hope it was enjoyable and gave you some new insights on the way fashion fits together at every turn. 

#racks chats #weibo night #wang yibo #xiao zhan #style #styling #fashion deconstruction

[mymedicine]

Love and Other Drugs

or, 5k of new bf harry

moodboard/inspo tag + my masterlist

sum - yacht parties are cool and all, but harry really just wants to spend more time with his girl

warnings - alcohol (have I even written a fic where both mc’s are sober the whole time yet lmao), light sexy stuff (lil bit of ch*king k*nk if you squint), swearing probably, harry being a little shit, fluff to the maxxxxx

notes - good lord, this fic has been the absolute death of me. I stg, murphy’s law is real. anyways, the driving home scene is completely inspired by real life events that once made me swoon, but now I am lonely and so so tired so pls be nice to me thx much love <3

“Hold still!”

Harry whined and craned his neck away from his girlfriend’s hand, but he wasn’t able to go far with his back flush against the car door. “No baby, we’re already late!”

“But you’ve got jam on you!” Y/N cried. She reached her fingers up to rub the reddish marks off of his face, but, once again, he turned his head away like a stubborn child. “And we wouldn’t have been late if you hadn’t spent two hours combing your hair.”

“S not jam, it’s lipstick,” He insisted, deliberately ignoring her second (valid) point.

“Whatever. It’s on your cheek.”

Y/N made one final attempt to clean him up, but this time, he managed to escape the circle of her arms. He ran backwards toward the dock, taunting her playfully as he went, “Come on, baby!”

“Harry!” Given no other choice, she frantically pushed the lock button on the car key and chased after her child—er, boyfriend. She winced as her high heels hit the asphalt, feet aching against the gold sandals already. He’d slowed down a little to give her a break, but she was still panting as she yelled, “You can’t go to a fancy yacht party with lipstick on your face!”

He finally stopped running—thank God, because they were right in front of the ship and the last thing Y/N needed was to embarrass herself (or rather, be embarrassed by her man-child boyfriend) within sight of all the famous people that would surely be onboard already.

“But I like it.” He pouted as she reached him, entwining his fingers with hers before she could use them to try to scrub his face again.

Before she could reply, a familiar Irish accent boomed over the loud purring of the boat’s engine, “Harry! Y/N!”

Y/N really hoped someone was keeping an eye on Niall tonight. It was barely dusk and he already looked a little too buzzed to be leaning over the railing on the top deck. She craned her neck up to look at him, giggling to herself at the flush in his cheeks and the blonde mess on top of his head.

“Welcome abooaaard!” He waved far more aggressively than was necessary.

“Happy birthday, Niall!” Y/N yelled back at him, blocking the bright sun with one hand—a hand she discreetly wrestled out of Harry’s.

Harry, too, looked upward and was squinting into the sky. The sun was just beginning its descent into the horizon, and soon the evening would be hanging behind the silvery moon. In the mean time, the sky was bright and painted with delicate strokes of soft pink and peachy orange.

While Harry waved back at his friend, Y/N took advantage of the distraction—and his exposed cheek.

Without warning, she hurled her hand up to his face and swiped at the pink mark as hard as she could.

“Hey!” Harry whipped his head back to her, mock hurt written all over his face.

Y/N flashed him a cheeky, victorious smile. “Got it!”

September in south Florida was as hot and humid as summer anywhere else. Even out at sea, with the cool ocean wind surging throughout the top deck of the yacht, it was plenty warm enough for the guests to enjoy the outdoors.

“H, can you hold my phone and keys in your pocket?”

Harry was standing awkwardly near the railing of the boat, fiddling absently with the plume of lace and chiffon on his black top. He still had a faint reddish mark on his cheek (she wasn’t sure if it was leftover lipstick or just irritated from her rubbing at it) that Y/N, despite the turmoil that had ensued over it, found very endearing. She always thought he was handsome. She had since the first day they met four months earlier. But tonight, he was positively glowing. He shined in the fabulous black number, his skin further brightened by the setting sun and the utter joy coursing through him (the entire flute of champagne he’d already downed certainly didn’t hurt, either).

He took the phone and keys from her while she admired him, happy to help her but not without a smart remark: “You should’ve worn the dress with the pockets, love,” he chastised her playfully, a smirk dressing his berry lips.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You said you liked the pink on me!”

Choosing her dress for the night had been an ordeal that rivaled even Harry’s complicated hair routine. She’d originally chosen a black long sleeved one with pockets that was comfortable and appropriate and matched Harry’s own all-black ensemble (which he’d had picked out for weeks). Her boyfriend rejected the black dress, pointing out that she’d be hot it in because “It’s practically summer in Miami, love.” Instead, he chose a silky pink number, midi-length and tight in all the right places with a tastefully low cowl neckline. She’d dressed it up with a few gold bracelets and a single pearl earring in her left ear that, to her satisfaction, matched Harry’s. And yeah—it didn’t have pockets, but Harry liked it and it made her feel sexy and that’s all that mattered.

Harry hummed with a tight lipped grin. “Yeah, you’re right,” His tone was innocent, almost regretful as he looked her up and down. The pink sunset behind her was highlighting her figure just right, wind rushing through her hair, exposed skin supple and tempting. Harry was mesmerized by her.

His hands moved on their own accord to gently hold her by the waist. “Your ass looks really cute in the silk…I reckon the color makes your skin glow a bit, too. And matches your makeup, and looks nice with my earring…” He continued spewing some breathy compliments at her, even after she sort of stopped listening when a waiter holding a tray of delectable looking hors d'oeuvres caught her attention.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course, honey,” she replied (mostly) honestly. He was always a mushy little sap for her, but she truly did love the way he appreciated the little things she put effort into. “Thank you for noticing those little details.”

“You’re welcome. Know ya don’ just do it f’me though,” His ring clad fingers drummed against her waist, the metal cold through the thin silky material she wore. “Love that about you.”

Y/N cracked a smile in spite of the nervous shiver washing over her at his words. She couldn’t help but notice it was already the second time he’d said that word since they’d embarked. He was treading dangerously close to the vast, uncharted l-word territory. He’s a little buzzed, she reasoned with herself, despite also knowing it was silly because he’d only had a single champagne. But then again, he was a lightweight—and judging by the way he suddenly dropped her waist to chase down a passing waitress for two more glasses, he wouldn’t be slowing down any time soon. If he told her while he was drunk, would it really count?

He returned to her side, keeping one flute for himself and presenting the other to her. “Thank you, honey,” she said, grasping the stem of it (even though she still had a half full one resting precariously on the railing behind her). It was a fitting nickname for him, she thought. She hadn’t really meant for that to become her little pet name for him, but he loved it just as much as she did. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re sweeter,” her boyfriend hummed happily, “even when you’re checking out that waiter…”

“No! I wasn’t!”

“You kinda were,” He smiled cheekily at her.

“Was not.”

“’S alright, baby. He’s handsome. You’re allowed to have a little look.” But the way he held her protectively by the hip betrayed his words.

“You know I only have eyes for you,” If that wasn’t a hint, she didn’t know what was. “I’m just hungry. He was holding bacon wrapped shrimp, I think.”

“Mmm, me too,” Harry replied, the interaction already forgotten in favor of a savory snack. He tugged on her hand so they could follow that waiter, grumbling as they padded around the crowded deck. “Niall’s a fuckin ass for not serving dinner at an evening party.”

“Oh give him a break! It’s his birthday.” she let him pull her toward the middle where more people were gathered around the bar and admiring the decor—

“Is that an ice scultpure?”

Harry was right. It was a giant clear sculpture of a guitar made entirely out of ice. People were around it, admiring the intricacies and mingling and sipping on expensive looking drinks.

“How long you bet til it melts?”

“Not before Niall accidentally knocks it over,” Y/N laughed and gestured toward the man of the hour, who indeed was stumbling over his feet while trying to maintain a conversation with a group of several strikingly beautiful looking people—models? Probably.

It was obvious that Niall hadn’t planned this for himself. The whole thing was far too elegant and classy. His drunken ramblings were entertaining, sure, but he stood out amidst the black tie formals and live R&B music floating around the large deck of the luxurious vehicle.

Harry chased down the waiter and grabbed shrimp skewers for them both while Y/N continued quietly giggling at Niall’s antics.

Minutes drifted into hours as alcohol, shrimp skewers, and joyful conversation flowed liberally about the deck. Y/N had separated herself from Harry—much to his drunken dismay—to go and mingle with some of the “famous people.” She did it all on her own, confidently striding over and striking up a conversation with anyone worthy of her attention.

“Long time no see, mate.” Mitch’s voice interrupted Harry’s inner thoughts surrounding his girlfriend. He tore his eyes away from her and turned to face his friend, who was standing with his own girlfriend beside him.

“Been busy,” Harry replied.

Sarah’s eyebrows rose as a grin spread across her cheeks. She glanced at Mitch, who wore a matching one.

“You both have been quite busy, yeah?” Sarah cocked her head toward where Y/N was, grin widening along with Harry’s eyes.

Harry hid his smile in his glass, taking a large gulp of the bubbly. “What d’ya mean?” He asked innocently.

“We saw you staring at her, buddy.”

Well, fuck. He can’t exactly deny that. He was indeed watching her as she mingled with a group of people—exceptionally beautiful people. She fit in perfectly with the models, her smile bright and dress shiny, hips swaying tantalizingly to the beat of the drums. She engaged effortlessly in what looked like an exciting conversation with A-listers and held their attention with sweeping hand gestures. Even from across the deck, he swore he could feel her joy. Light just radiated off of her and sent a gentle flutter through his belly and a heat wave through his heart.

Sarah studied him. The way his eyes twinkled and his cheeks flushed with happiness…it was obvious. “You love her.” She deadpanned.

Harry shrugged in response, a knowing smile on his face which he didn’t bother to hide this time.

“You do!” It was Mitch this time, who wrapped an arm around Sarah and looked at her with the same happy smile his friend wore.

“No comment.” A twinge of jealously bit his heart as he watched a handsome brunette lean down to whisper something in his girlfriend’s ear. He frowned instinctively, picturing the man muttering flirtatious compliments or dirty suggestions to her like he should be doing right now.

Sarah continued to watch Harry watch Y/N, unsure if he was even listening anymore. “It’s alright to admit it. Love is a beautiful thing.”

“Don’t listen to her,” said Mitch, “it’s a drug!”

“Hey look!” Harry shouted a distraction, pointing somewhere behind the two of them. He spotted two waiters bringing out an impressive tiered cake swirled with white frosting and topped with those sparkling candles. “It’s time to sing for the birthday boy!”

The boat erupted in a cacophonous rendition of the birthday song as the cake was placed on top of the bar. Night had fallen over the deck, making the sparkly decorations shine blindly bright against the moonlight. Meanwhile, Niall was dancing hysterically among the crowds, even singing along to his own birthday song in a drunken spree. At the final, …to you! he performed a dramatic bow and roared, “Thank you, beautiful people!”

Applause died slowly as Niall began grabbing peoples’ faces to kiss their cheeks in thanks. Y/N looked around for Harry, quite certain that her boyfriend would be perfectly willing to accept a kiss from the birthday boy, especially when he was inebriated. Sure enough, she caught sight of him wrapped up in an embrace with the blonde, a wide smile on his face as Mitch and Sarah laughed hysterically at the interaction.

Harry accepted the cheek kiss, just as his eyes met hers over Niall’s shoulder.

“Y/N!” He screeched and broke the embrace. He started running over to her in an uncoordinated stride, limbs flailing and most definitely spilling alcohol on other peoples’ expensive clothes.

“Y/N!” he slurred, finally reaching her side, “Gimme a kissy!”

She laughed. “You just got kissies from Niall, honey.” “But I want your lipstick on me. Yeh wiped it off.” He frowned deeply, no—melodramatically as his hand cupped his own cheeks where the pink lipstick mark once was.

She called him a little baby but obliged anyways, stamping a firm lip shaped mark on one of his flushed cheeks. He grinned wildly in response and looked at her with that look in his eyes that she absolutely adored. He was looking at her like she was royalty, like she hung the moon and commanded the sea and granted miracles upon mere mortals such as himself.

“Wish I could give you one too…” Harry trailed off, eyes wandering around the room. “Maybe then all those hot models and waiters would leave you alone.”

“Aw, you jealous baby?”

He nodded shamelessly and, with a pouty look, tucked her into his arms. He pressed a series of hard kisses on her cheeks and temples, squeezing the silky pink fabric at her waist. The feeling made her heart squeeze in the most delightful way—chest tight and warm with…with love.

“Wanna go check out the lower deck?”

And Y/N hadn’t known this man too long, but it was long enough to know that he had anything but innocent intentions with his sweet request. She was still only nursing her third glass of bubbly, but Harry’s suggestive stare and wandering hands seemed to ignite the slight heat flowing through her veins into an inferno.

It engulfed them both as Y/N’s back hit the inside of the door to the lower deck bathroom.

Harry’s lips were soft and playful and sexy all at once—just like him. He trailed hot kisses down her cheeks and jaw much like he had earlier, only now there was no audience. No need to hold back. Only hot, sweet skin swathed in pink silk and black chiffon.

“You marked me already, ’s my turn.”

Just when she was feeling a little too sober, Harry’s words drenched her in the heat of desire. This was definitely a bad idea, but it didn’t sound like one when he put it like that.

His fingers slipped from her jaw and followed his lips down to her throat, enticing her with a gentle squeeze—a warning? Or a promise for later? Either way, this bathroom escapade was fucking sliced bread and she was putty in his hands.

He sucked harshly on the supple skin of her neck without warning. A gasp slips out of Y/N’s mouth and Harry’s ringed thumb pressed deeply into the center of her throat in reprimanding. His other fingers gripped the crook of her neck, just enough to make her head spin and keep her body pliant.

Meanwhile, his other hand slithered down the smooth silk to her waist, his hold on her heavy and warm. Harry’s swollen lips retracted from her bruised neck, not before pressing a few gentle pecks to the hickeys to soothe the pain.

Y/N felt dizzy with pleasure and enveloped in love. She couldn’t help but chase his lips for a few more desperate kisses as he pulled away from her neck. She suddenly wished she could admire the marks he’d left, but the glazed, hungry look in his eyes would definitely suffice. The little bathroom felt ten degrees warmer—leaving Harry looking hot and flushed and absolutely irresistible.

“You okay, baby?” Harry whispered in the tiny space between them, words slightly slurred and dipped in bliss.

Y/N nodded aggressively, letting her hands wrap around the back of his neck where his skin was hot and hair curled adorably. “Please kiss me again.”

He did as he was told, of course. His lips moved tenderly with hers and his hands trailed lower, gently caressing her waist and hips. His fingers started a course back up to her ass, this time taking the fabric of her dress with them.

Y/N’s head felt light as a feather, no thoughts besides Harry…Harry’s hands…Harry’s lips…Harry…

She curled her thighs around his hips and he responded effortlessly, hoisting her up by the backs of her thighs and pressing taut between the cold bathroom wall and his own hot chest. The temperature in the room seemed to rise impossibly then, the sounds of breathy moans and gentle sucking kisses seamlessly diffusing into the heat and surrounding them in a delightful symphony.

Y/N was thrilled by the way Harry’s tongue tasted like champagne—as sweet and plushy as always. She decided then that she would never get tired of the feeling of his mouth on hers, of the dizzying joyful feeling his lips gave her every single time.

“Harry…honey…”

“What ’s it pretty girl?”

The pet name in his raspy accent went straight to her core. She let out another shameless whine, squeezing his waist tighter with her legs.

“I need you, Harry…”

“Hm? Need what?”

She groaned—now he wanted to be a tease. After he’d gotten to give her the hickeys like he wanted.

“Harry, please.”

“‘M just messing, pretty girl. I know what you ne—“

Suddenly, a loud crash rang out in the little cabin. Y/N let out a screech and sprang away from Harry, landing awkwardly on her stiletto heels. Wide eyed, she and Harry both looked up toward the source of the sound. Muffled shouts followed, in the midst of a horrible shattering sound, like broken glass, or hail or—

“The ice sculpture!”

They were both wide eyed and panting and a little sweaty, hair tousled and lips swollen red.

“Oh shit,” There were more muffled shouts and some shuffling of feet above them. Even through the ornate ceiling of the bathroom, it was clear there was an ordeal going on up there.

Breathy pants lingered between them, and the room suddenly felt even smaller, even more swelteringly hot and stuffy. Of all things to ruin the heat of the moment…a fucking ice sculpture.

They looked at each other blankly, as if to say what the hell do we do now?

“Let’s head back up while everyone’s distracted.” It was Harry’s alcohol-induced idea, cooked up in his foggy brain.

“There’s no way we can go back to the party like this.” Y/N gestured between them—the sweaty foreheads, messy hair, skin dotted with hickeys, and most prominently, her boyfriend’s obvious arousal.

Harry sighed, glancing down at himself. “Let’s leave then.”

“What, you wanna swim home?”

Harry frowned, “Huh?”

“We’re on a fucking boat, dumbass.”

Harry looked away from her with wide eyes and burning cheeks. Right…Absently, he thought it was funny how she could go from making out with him against the wall of the bathroom, practically begging for more, to mercilessly making fun of him, all within seconds. His thoughts bled into his expression, a happy smile tugging on his lips as he thought about her and her unparalleled sex appeal and her cute laugh and her mock insults and her more and more.

And just like that, he was laughing. His wild laughter seemed to echo in the small bathroom. Despite their hot rendezvous being rudely interrupted, Y/N swore she could smell the happiness in the room—almost as poignant as the champagne on his breath.

Seconds later, she couldn’t help but join him in happy laughter.

Turns out, the fallen ice sculpture was even more of a hazard than they’d initially realized—so much so that the captain of the yacht demanded an early return to shore and a continuation of the party on land. Many patrons were disappointed by the early end to the yacht cruise, not including the birthday boy himself, who Y/N would be surprised if was still walking at this point.

As they sailed back toward the shore, Harry was nursing yet another flute of champagne while Y/N clung to him in the boat’s interior—half because she wanted to cover his erection from any passerbys, and half because she just really wanted to hold him. He’d also managed to produce a slice of cake on a porcelain plate, which he’d presumably snagged when he left her on the couch to find more alcohol.

“You look cute,” she mused at him while he chewed the forkful of cake she’d just slid into his mouth. She was sideways in his lap, bare feet rested on the arm of an expensive looking couch. She vaguely realized that this area of the boat was probably off limits for guests, but fuck it, she thought, no harm no foul.

“Hm?”

“I said, ‘you look cute.’” Y/N repeated. He really did look cute like that, with his face flushed and hair messy and a tinge of lipstick still lingering on his cheek.

“Oh yeah,” he mumbled with frosting still between his teeth, “I heard you the first time.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying. I take it back.”

“You can’t take it back!”

She gathered another forkful of cake and brought it up to his lips, “I just did.”

“Fine then,” He said, “I’ll just toss you overboard. Out of sight, out of mind.”

At that, Y/N gasped. She quickly turned her hand away and brought the cake into her own mouth, licking her lips for extra impact.

“Noooo!” He held her by the hip and dragged her even closer to him, as if she were about to get up and actually go overboard and take the cake with her. “I’m sorry baby, you’re cute, too. So cute. Like, so cute that I can’t believe you like me.”

Like? I think I more than like you.

“I can’t believe it, either.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue, dancing around in the tiny space between their lips like electricity. Harry leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, sucking on her bottom lip as if trying to pull them out of her.

Yet again, they were interrupted. This time by a loud horn blare and the captain’s voice over the intercom. “Land, ho!”

“Finally.” Harry sighed in relief, already trying to stand up from the couch, “Can you take me home now, please.”

“We can’t just leave when the party’s still going! What about Niall?” Y/N pressed her hands against his chest to slow him down.

“Niall won’t remember a damn thing.”

She considered his words. He wasn’t wrong; Niall had already knocked over the ice sculpture, after all.

“Take a left here,”

“Here?”

“Ye—wait, no.” Harry slurred, shaking his head from the passenger seat.

But his girlfriend had already turned the wheel to the left, inevitably sending the car in the wrong direction, again.

“Shit, M’ sorry baby.” he said with a drunken giggle.

“Good lord Harry…”

She threw the car into a random driveway, grumbling as she executed a clumsy K-turn.

She could hear the cranky frown in Harry’s voice as he groaned, “You’re a shit driver.”

“Well you’re a shit navigator!” Y/N looked over and gave him a pointed look. But the look only fell on his droopy, half-open eyes. “Where the fuck do I go?”

A beat of silence passed as Harry’s head lolled around. He hummed a bit, imitating the low rumble of the car’s engine. Finally, he murmured, “Keep goin’ straight.”

“Are you sure?”

He didn’t reply, just turned to look at her with that mischievous drunken smile.

“Aw fuck, no. We passed it up.”

“Harry!” She couldn’t help but laugh. Despite her annoyance, his antics were amusing. “Are you sure you actually know where you live?”

“Of course I know where I live!”

Y/N sped into another middle-of-the-road U-turn, and Harry dramatically fell into her lap with a low yell.

“Slow down, you minx! Gonna get us killed!”

“You’re so dramatic, Harry. If you’d just tell me where the fuck you live!”

“Can’t remember.”

She craned her head up to ceiling, letting her own eyes fall shut as she inhaled her frustration.

“Okay, fine. It’s that blue one over there.” He gestured vaguely to the right, but it was too dark to see the colors of the houses anyways.

Y/N let out her deep breath, “Somehow I don’t believe you.”

His growing smirk gave him away. After only a few seconds, his foggy brain would not allow him to contain his giggles.

“Harry!” she whined. He was always kind of silly and clingy, but the excessive alcohol made him an actual baby. He was still laying in her lap over the center console.

“Why are you like this?”

He pouted, feigning hurt. “Maybe I just wanna spend more time with you.”

Y/N’s fingers loosed on the wheel. She slowed the car to a stop against on of the curbs in the quiet neighborhood, poised under the soft light of a street lamp. Her annoyed expression softened and the familiar urge washed over her—the urge to kiss his cheeks and tell him she loved him and squeeze him tight and never let him go. How could one person be so annoying yet so fucking adorable?

She pushed his hair back (not without thinking about how he would’ve scolded her for messing it up at the beginning of the night when he had been sober, but now he was far too drunk to care) and wrapped an arm around his neck. It was definitely an awkward position and Harry couldn’t have been comfortable like that, but he didn’t seem to mind. He held her arm in both hands and snuggled into her lap as she cooed at him. “Aw, baby. You could’ve just told me.”

“But we’ve only been together for a little bit…and I don’t want ya to get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you, honey. Not even if I wanted to,” she said earnestly, continuing to stroke her fingers gently through his curls.

“Really?”

Now if that wasn’t a hint…this man was even stupider than she thought. In spite of his endearing idiocy, Y/N still could not resist the urge to just love him.

The idea that he could possibly love her back crossed her mind several times, especially in the past few weeks.

But they’d only been officially for a month and a half…was it too soon? Would she scare him off? Was there some unwritten rule of love to wait until they’d at least seen each others’ homes? Although, if she did tell him now, Harry was so drunk he may not even remember. If it went horrifically wrong, maybe she could forget it happened. (No, she definitely would not ever be able to forget if that happened, but the lie comforted her a little nonetheless). But if it went well, she’d be more confident telling him again when he was sober tomorrow. And at last, she didn’t even think she could hold the words in for another second while he was cuddling into her and kissing her arms like a baby kitten.

“I love you, Harry.”

“You do?!”

Suddenly, he seemed alarmingly sober.

“Ugh, yes. How could I not?”

He looked appalled, really. As if the idea of her loving him was absolutely insane. “Well, I annoy you, I kiss you in public, I drink too much, I spend way too much time on my hair, I’m not as handsome as that waiter…”

“And you’re pretty stupid.” Y/N interrupted with her own addition to the growing list.

“Yeah, you’re right. I am pretty dumb…But,” he paused, flipping over in her lap to look her in the eyes, “I did get one thing right.”

“What’s that?” She asked, fondly stroking his gelled hair with trembling hands.

“Falling in love with you.”

And loving him was that easy, as easy as sipping champagne and eating cake and falling overboard. She loved his flamboyance, his confidence, his kindness. She loved his silly tattoos and his bunny teeth and the little scar under his chin and the faint lipstick stain on his cheek. She loved the way they teased each other like children. She loved the way his mouth felt against hers. She loved the way he adored her. And so, she couldn’t help but smile wide.

“Alright, let’s add you’re super cheesy to that list, too…”

thanks for reading! please reblog if you enjoyed <3

feedback is welcomed, encouraged, and highly appreciated!

#harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #boyfriend!harry #yacht!harry #harry styles #my writing #i know shes a lil babie one shot but please be nice i have slaved over her

[paper-n-ashes]

The Late Shift - Part 2

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Little inklings of sexual themes. Otherwise we’re still in PG territory. Oh and mutual pining from two idiots. My favourite kind.

Authors Note: One shot? I don’t know her. Honestly, I don’t have any excuse. I just felt the urge to continue on with this dumb fluffy story because it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside and I needed that. Will we drive this car straight into smut town afterwards? Ah you’ll just have to see. 

Catch up with Part 1 here

*

Paul always considered himself a smart guy. Perceptive, knowledgeable, with years of grueling education behind him to be where he is today.

His schooling, work, almost every minute of his waking moments was spent in the realm of artificial illustrations of correspondence. He could happily spend hours sifting through the words and numbers that made up all types of message transmission, might even admit he had a talent for decoding their significance and origin. Exchanges born from machinery were easy to analyse – they had set rules and gave little room for differing interpretation. He was comfortable in that world. Knew how things worked, what paths data and carefully devised information would take.

Human communication was infinitely harder to navigate. It was a skill he knew he was lacking in, compared to others at least. His words never came out the way he wanted, he struggled to say exactly what was wished to convey and agonised over the fact expression and tone could morph any remark into something with a whole different meaning.

Every day, he encountered people who used this as a tool - a weapon to obscure the truth and conceal hidden agendas. It was hard not to, working for the US government. In time, he’d become cynical. Wary of what people spoke aloud, assuming it was all said without much sincerity or reliability unless proven otherwise.

And then after another arduous day, there you were. Out of nowhere. Kind. Honest. Genuine. Within such an excruciatingly short interaction, you’d exuded all these traits so effortlessly. A breath of fresh air after being smothered by the smog the rest of his life contained.

Paul would easily admit his attraction to you was surprisingly swift. The rapturing smile you wore when you’d looked up from your notepad had him snared from the moment it appeared, an aura of natural vibrance and radiant energy shimmering out from your animated expression. What he’d expected to be a dry, tedious endeavour turned into a spark-filled scene, where an excited stranger made him feel both horrendously nervous and unusually at-ease. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like that.

It had also been a long time since he’d asked someone out on a date, for more than a few reasons. The more prolific Paul became in his job, the more unpredictable and unstable his life outside of it was. It took him across the country at a moments’ notice and consumed most hours of his day, meaning forging even short relationships was fairly difficult.

Plus… he just wasn’t good at it. Putting himself out there. He was shy, paralyzingly so. It’s not exactly something he could refute. His confidence was always born from experience and understanding, in knowing the reasons behind why things worked the way they did, along with being able to calculate what would happen next. No textbook could ever cover the entire spectrum of human personality, and there was no way to truly predict what a person might do or say. 

So, without the security of knowledge behind him, uneasiness and apprehension took over in most of his social interactions, particularly with those he felt a magnetism to. It’s exactly how he thought he seemed during his time with you. Awkward and floundering. Not exactly the most charming attributes for a man to have. And yet, the longer he was in your presence, the more he sensed those foibles fade into the back of his mind.

Talking to you was easy. Easier than it had been with anyone during a first meeting. What hadn’t been easy was enduring the seconds your touch grazed over him in your delicate workings while taking each different measurement - his heart beating a little faster, his muscles becoming a little more tense. When you’d eventually let your stare reach his, he’d seen how your eyes moved to trace the lines of his mouth, and it set his insides on fire. He’d been frozen by the unique type of burn, his body locked in place while a rare impulse begged him to sink his lips onto yours. In the past, he struggled to kiss a woman even after several dates, unable to push past the fear and doubt to turn his desire into action. However, in that moment, he’d been all too eager. His hand had moved on its own accord, fingers slinking up your waist, about to pull you closer when interruption instantly shattered his resolve.

The urge was still there in the dialogue that followed, although the promise of seeing you tomorrow made it easier to walk away, safe in the knowledge he had another opportunity to ask you out when his confidence was properly steeled. For once, he could be smart about this. Use his natural intellect to plan and act accordingly, giving him the best odds of securing more time with you.

Oh, but that all went to shit when your text message popped up on his phone screen. Seeing those words, even if they were meant for someone else, made his excitement reach an unfathomable peak, and in turn made him recklessly send a response without taking a second to think about the consequences.

And now, Paul had never felt so stupid in his entire life.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, the phone in his palm lit up with your conversation on display, he felt his stomach spasm with anxiety. Were you going to reply? What would you say? What if his bluntness freaked you out? What if you weren’t even talking about him? Was this all something his mind conjured up?

As the minutes passed without any sign of a response, the initially minor sense of panic began to compound, weighing heavy on his chest, the chaos of his mind soon melting into one certainty - he’d totally fucked this up.

About to slump his forehead into the steering wheel in a display of despondency, Paul suddenly felt a flash of courage at remembering the view of your face peering up at him. He knew the image of it would haunt him if he didn’t do something. He had to fix this. Explain himself. But it needed to be in person. He wouldn’t let technology mess this up for him again.

With a purposeful breath, Paul exited his car and began to retrace his steps past the other shopfronts, silently rehearsing what he wanted to say to you. He hoped to surrender himself to a collectively embarrassing situation, laugh off the turn of events, having it all culminate in an offer of dinner once your shift had finished. He already had a place in mind, only a street away, a little dumpling house that was always open late. Perfect for a cosy, quiet date after a chance meeting.

When his eyes latched onto your figure through the glass window, he stopped his hand from reaching for the door handle. You were crouching down in front of a small boy, his mother behind him cradling a newborn baby, your hand gesturing towards an array of child size suits. Paul couldn’t help but watch as your warming smile beamed, guiding the boys hands to touch and feel over the material, your words evidently making him feel more at ease as his expression slowly relaxed out of its worried frown.

Creeping backwards to make sure you didn’t catch him in your periphery, Paul felt a wave of relief wash over his skin, having evidence that your lack of reply wasn’t due to any of the worst case scenarios he’d been fretting over. You were just busy, concentrated on your work, giving your time and expertise to others in the same way you’d given to him.

The realisation was enough for him slink away, still impatient for your next encounter but assured in it being set within the next day cycle. He just had to wait.

Although, waiting wasn’t exactly a talent of his either.

 *

You were dying inside.

A friendly grin was plastered on your face as you conversed sweetly with the woman in front of you, making idle chit-chat while her son changed out of the suit you’d picked together, but the smile had never felt so insincere. Usually you loved when children came in to pick out ensembles for weddings and similarly formal events, but at the moment your mind was stuck on a small battery-powered rectangle sitting at your desk with a half-written message remaining under your lock-screen.

In the time before Paul’s response came through, you’d never felt more humiliated in your whole existence. Evaporating into thin air would have been a welcomed miracle. But when the returning text slid into focus, your whole mindset shifted.

He felt the same. He wanted you too.

You’d been in the middle of typing out a hasty invitation to come back and make true on his intentions when this overwhelmed mother with a fussy baby caught your attention. Her eldest son had done his best to iron out his only formal suit for the role of ring bearer in an aunt’s wedding this coming weekend, unfortunately resulting an a house full of smoke and a clump of burnt wool.

Personal matters withered into the background at the comprehension of her drained, exhausted demeanour, all your focus pointed back towards the job you’d been distracted from. Well, mostly.

You couldn’t avoid the thoughts and questions glinting in the back of your mind. Of what might have happened if this woman never appeared. What might be happening in an alternate timeline where you’d been able to send that waiting reply. Without intention, your wonderings turned into moving pictures – leading Paul into the back workshop, being roughly picked up onto the cutting table, his lips and yours finally connected in a heated clash, shedding all of his clothing until that heinous mustard shirt was crumpled on the floor-

The high pitched beep of the receipt machine snapped you back into reality, noting the relieved smile the mother wore while her son excitedly grabbed at the bags containing his dashing new suit.

“Thank you!” he hollered without needing to be prompted, waving his hand vigorously before skittering away to the door.

“You’re an absolute lifesaver,” the woman echoed, taking the receipt from your outstretched hand. “I’m really sorry for keeping you so late.”

“Oh don’t worry about it.” The time on the monitor screen just ticked over to 8:17pm, long after you would usually shut up shop and head home to your empty apartment. “I've got nowhere special to be.”

You each said your goodbyes, waiting until the precise moment her silhouette was out of sight before jumping to your phone. The same half written message was there, but now it felt impossible to finish. All traces of adrenaline had long since worn off, and the bravery that made you type out the risqué proposition was reduced to almost nothing. Your timid nature rushed back in full force, a thumb pressing hard on the little x button to erase all evidence of your out of character impulses.

Who were you kidding. You weren’t this person. Unashamed and brazen enough to dive into a fiery entanglement with a handsome stranger in the same evening you’d met. You wished you could be. There was never a time the concept was so enticing. But… it was a fantasy not meant for you to live out. They were destined for the outgoing, the cool and composed, the bold and sure-footed. You rarely felt like any of those things. And Paul, like most men, probably reserved their interest and attraction for those types of women. It was so silly of you to think any different. Getting your hopes up was foolish, and would only end in-

The tingle of the shopkeepers bell sounded, internally groaning as you slid your phone back onto the desk. “We’re closed,” you hawked, a coldness in your tone you couldn’t hide. Eyes snapping up to the intruder, a bolt of lightening shot through, barely able to stop the delight mixing into your blood.

“I just, uh, figured out something more that I needed,” Paul said softly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly nervous.

“You did?” you breathed. “W-what was it?”

His chest rose and fell with a calming exhale, making sure your stares were secured before giving his answer. “…You.”

*

Tagging some lovelies who might want to read. Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to tagged in future works!

@tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynz-andtonic @paterson-blue @miraclesabound @prismaticpizza​ @millenialcatlady​ 

#paul sevier #paul sevier x reader #paul sevier x female reader #adcu #adcu fanfiction