#so anyway next time I say I want to be home in December somebody slap me

[buffysblackturtleneck]

for a long time I really bought into the idea that you take yourself no matter where you go and that if I was unhappy, it was because of something internal and that it wasn’t going to be fixed by moving. But I think I really do just hate Toronto lmao

#like maybe this is just clarity from the fact that I haven’t lived here consistently since I was 18 #but like #it’s not even that there’s inherently anything wrong with Toronto as a city #but like I have very few good memories here and almost all my worst memories happened in Toronto #so like of course being here does not make me feel great #and something about being back in your childhood bedroom with your family home just really reawakens all your pettiest jealousies #and worst insecurities #so anyway next time I say I want to be home in December somebody slap me #certified haligonian now because I hate Toronto more than any of them could

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 13 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n:guess who’s realised she never submitted this to AQ? it’s ya boi. if u haven’t been able to read this yet then here it is, and look out for the final chapter coming soon! thank u to everyone who’s ever sent this fic some love, it means the world to me!!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

6th December 2020

Vanessa’s in the wine aisle of Marks and Spencers when she sees her again.

Her hair’s been dyed- she already knew that, she’s seen pictures of it on her Insta feed- and the demure tones of the honey-brown balayage are a contrast to the blonde ombré she’d had when they’d been together, but it suits her. She’s in sweatpants and a cropped jumper, because of course she is, and Vanessa recognises the matching pink set emblazoned with the Playboy logo from Missguided adverts on bus shelters. She’s wearing some form of chunky white trainers and Vanessa isn’t proud of the fact that she feels a little flame of satisfaction light up in her gut when she sees that they’re splattered with mud, contrasting with her clean outfit and perfect makeup.

Vanessa turns back to the green bottles in front of her, staring at them for so long and with such intensity that she thinks she might rip the fabric of reality in two. She consciously blocks out her peripheral vision so that all she can see is the label of one bottle of white which she reads over and over again. A light, dry white with citrus notes and lively green fruit flavours. Grown in the spectacular setting of the sun ripened vineyards of central Spain. Goes with fish, chicken and salads.

She doesn’t, in any way, shape or form, know how to play this situation, because this is the first time she’s seen Kameron in person since they decided to call it quits. One one hand she could just keep staring at the wine bottle, attempt to blend into the shelves via osmosis and completely avoid her ex, but on the other hand…Vanessa doesn’t really know what the other hand is, because she doesn’t know what a conversation between the two of them would look like. There’s a part of her that wants to find out.

And suddenly, with a cry that Vanessa recognises as hers, the decision is made for her.

“Vanjie?”

Slowly, timidly, Vanessa turns around to meet her eyes. Soft, brown eyes that Vanessa had once looked into and seen her whole world and future.

God, it’s fucking crazy how she used to be so in love with her and now she feels completely apathetic.

“Kam! Hey,” Vanessa smiles tightly, waving awkwardly with the hand she’s not holding her shopping basket with. “How are you?”

“I’m fine! Well, actually, not amazing. I tried to make this really fancy, complex coq au vin for dinner last night but I don’t know what the hell I did wrong because it tasted like fucking ass. So I’m here getting ingredients again because Mama didn’t raise a quitter. It’ll probably still taste like garbage though, you know what I’m like,” Kameron reels off, which makes Vanessa smile in spite of herself. Kam was never the best at cooking and it was usually Vanessa who made the dinners when they were together, but there were still a couple of times when she’d tried at something and had failed spectacularly. Kameron seems to pick up on what she’d said as a little look of discomfort flashes in her eyes before she follows her sentence up with, “How’re you? God, it’s been ages.”

“It has,” Vanessa shrugged a little. So much has changed since they’ve last spoken that Vanessa isn’t really sure where to start. “I’m good. Things are pretty great, really. Obviously had a good run on the show for my first year competing, so hopefully I’ll get a partner next year too an’ win it next time.”

“I know, you did so well! I was really shocked you didn’t make the semis at least,” Kameron frowns, and the flattery does admittedly soften Vanessa up a little. Kameron’s face lights up as she adds, “God, your girl was so amazing though too! Brooke Lynn Hytes, right? She was super talented. Now I know how good a dancer she is I can’t help but feel like she’s sort of wasted as a presenter.”

“Yeah, she’s incredible,” Vanessa nods emphatically, unable to help the heat she feels spreading to her cheeks whenever she gets to talk about Brooke with somebody. Kameron’s expression changes a little as she clocks Vanessa’s blush, and a cheeky glint appears in her eye. Vanessa frowns. “Hey. Behave.”

“I didn’t say a word!” Kameron laughs, and as she trails off there’s a smile on her face that’s affectionate and helps Vanessa warm up to her ex even more. “Listen, what’re your plans? I’d honestly love to catch up. It’s been too long.”

Vanessa tilts her head in thought. The conversation isn’t going too badly, and her only plans are going round to Brooke’s later on to watch the semi-final results and have dinner (hence the reason she’s gone to M&S to get wine and not the Tesco Metro round the corner from her). So Vanessa surprises herself when she shrugs, giving Kameron a little nod. “Okay, yeah. Lemme get this wine and then we can get coffee.”

The way Kameron’s face lights up makes Vanessa think that her decision was the correct one.

They’re sat at a little table at the window of a nondescript coffee shop roughly ten minutes later, Kameron stirring the hell out of a vanilla latte that’s sat in front of her and creating a tiny whirlpool in the coffee that puts Vanessa in mind of a Pirates of the Carribean movie. Kameron’s talking about the flat she’s in just now- she bought it after she rented for a while when she moved out of Vanessa’s place- and how furniture is so expensive.

“I mean I could just go to IKEA and just furnish the entire thing for, like, two grand, but I actually want some really nice stuff, you know? Like it’s a big girl professional flat, not a uni rental,” she screws her face up as she finally takes a sip. Vanessa bristles a little opposite her- she knows Kam doesn’t mean it, but Vanessa wants to remind her that most of her furniture is from IKEA, because they’d gone and bought it all together when they first moved in. Kameron doesn’t seem affected, though, and keeps talking. “What about you? You still living out at Finsbury Park?”

Vanessa nods. “I’m still in the same flat, I never moved.”

A look of shock passes over Kameron’s face and Vanessa can read her like a book- the fact she’s still in that flat where they made so many memories together is obviously surprising. Vanessa can’t help but laugh. “Kameron, chill. You don’t roam the fuckin’ halls like a ghost, I don’t burst into tears whenever I go into a room. It’s a decent flat at a decent price, I wanted to keep it.”

“Right. Sorry. Ego check,” Kameron smiles sheepishly, and Vanessa feels bad for poking fun at her. Kameron perks up after a second, laughs a little. “I like how you said ‘halls’ plural. Like it’s a stately home and not a fucking matchbox with an intercom system.”

Vanessa’s taking a sip of her own hot chocolate and she almost chokes on it in a laugh, Kameron howling and slapping the table in response. Vanessa’s forgotten that Kam used to make her laugh, still can. She always used to see it like some sort of secret privilege she had access to, the quiet girl’s funny side rare and only popping out on special occasions. That hasn’t changed over the years.

“How’s work, anyway?” Vanessa asks her as she composes herself. Kameron shrugs easily.

“Pretty good. I did a Dua Lipa music video the other week, that should be coming out in a month or so.”

“Is she actually as bad a dancer as that video made her out to be?”

Kameron smirks. “She had a shit choreographer; she’s actually alright. Not pop girl standard, but you know. My agent’s trying to get me on the Blackpink tour next, so I should hear back from that soon.”

Vanessa’s glad that work hasn’t dried up for Kameron- the backing dancer industry is treating her well.

“Anyway,” Kameron bats her lashes, looking at Vanessa coyly from behind her glass. “Tell me more about this dance partner of yours, miss.”

Vanessa feels herself blush, a bashful laugh escaping her lips before she can stop it. It’s weird- after they first broke up Vanessa always used to think she’d love the chance to rub her ex’s face in a new relationship, but it feels ever so slightly odd now she’s actually about to talk about Brooke in front of her. “Honestly, we’re just seeing each other and keeping things casual. Y’know, while the series is still goin’. We’re not even official or public.”

“Yet,” Kameron smiles cheekily at her, and Vanessa can’t suppress the smile she returns to her.

“Okay, yet. But it’s going really well. I really like her. She’s sweet, an’ she’s caring, an’ she’s the best listener.”

“And she won’t be a fucking idiot and cheat on you.”

“No, I don’t think she will,” Vanessa shrugs, the fact that Kameron’s brought the situation up casting a small grey cloud over the conversation. It’s clunky and awkward, a puzzle piece jammed in a place it shouldn’t be. It’s been brought up now though, so Vanessa grimaces and adds, “But then I never thought you would, either.”

Kameron’s face screws up in regret, and before Vanessa knows it she’s rested a hand on top of hers and is giving her a tentative smile. “I know I said it about twenty million times when we were together but I’m honestly so sorry, Vanessa. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Kam, you gotta stop beatin’ yourself up about it,” Vanessa cuts in and says swiftly. Her own words shock her; they’ve come from virtually nowhere, and she’s amazed at the raw sympathy she’s just shown her. “You were drunk, it was a kiss. Strictly is…it’s a weird show. You saw him more hours in the day than you saw me. Kisses between partners happen all the time, it just…sucks that it happened between you two.”

Kameron nods quietly, and Vanessa puts her other hand on top of hers. “I forgive you. Give yourself a break.”

Kameron squeezes her hand, shoots her a soft smile. “Thanks, Vanjie.”

They let go of each other’s hands and each take a sip of their own drink, the silence between them somewhat symbolic like someone wiping words off a whiteboard. Vanessa watches as Kameron swallows a gulp of her coffee and grins. “Hey, do me a solid and put in a good word with Asia O’Hara for me, okay? I really want to slide into her DMs but I need some context first.”

“Your face can be the context, fuckin’ look in a mirror,” Vanessa snorts, and the two of them laugh together.

It’s nice. This huge, big, massive event she’s built up in her head for all these months is happening- she’s bumped into Kameron and she’s speaking to her. She doesn’t need to build it up anymore, or wonder about how it would play out because she’s living it, it’s playing out and she never has to see Kameron for the first time since they broke up ever again. A wall crumbles down in her mind without warning and once the dust settles she realises that she feels somewhat lighter.

Vanessa has been carrying this burden around with her for all this time without even having known it.

The pair of them eventually finish up- hug goodbye outside the coffee shop and tell each other how nice this all had been and then go their separate ways. They don’t promise to keep in touch, but Vanessa knows they’ll probably like each others’ Instagram posts or occasionally tweet each other support or that kind of thing now. Little things that remind them they’re still on good terms.

As Vanessa heads to the tube, her mind drifts to Brooke and how excited she is to see her. The week has been long and Brooke’s been busy, but true to her word she’s messaged Vanessa whenever she’s had a spare moment, updating her on her day and asking her about her own. On Tuesday she’d invited Vanessa round to her flat on Sunday night as she has a day off on Monday and they can spend the night together. She’s not just abandoned her or left her hanging, and if there’s about to be a gap between her messages she always pre-warns her. Brooke’s treating her well. Almost like a girlfriend. Exactly like a girlfriend.

Vanessa still doesn’t know what they really are. She’s so far told herself that that’s alright, but now they’re out of the competition that answer isn’t really satisfying her any more. She wants to call Brooke hers, she wants to be with her properly. As Brooke’s apartment building comes into view, Vanessa wonders if she’ll bring it up tonight.

As she buzzes Brooke’s intercom, though, Brooke’s tone throws everything into a tailspin.

“Hello?”

Vanessa frowns. Brooke sounds ever-so-slightly icy and fed up. She wonders if she’s imagined it. “Uh, hey! It’s Vanessa.”

“Hey. Come up.”

As the door buzzes open and Vanessa steps into the building, she waves away the thoughts in her head. She’s probably overthinking things, and as she steps into the elevator and lets herself be carried up to Brooke’s 12th floor apartment Vanessa tries to calm her nerves. It’s the first time she’s been to Brooke’s flat- in fact it’s the first time either of them have been at either of their flats- so she’s a little anxious. It’s another layer of the relationship they’re adding on, and the thought of things getting a little more serious makes Vanessa’s heart flutter.

So her head is thrown into a tailspin when the elevator doors open onto a landing and she’s met with three doors- two closed, and the other (Brooke’s, a little gold 111 set into the smooth grey exterior) is ever so slightly ajar. Vanessa narrows her eyes, tentatively stepping out of the lift, crossing the hall, and pushing the door open a little.

“Brooke Lynn?”

Brooke’s voice replies, still something to it that Vanessa can’t quite work out. “I’m in here.”

Frowning, Vanessa steps through the doorway and into Brooke’s flat. The whole situation is so strange that she can barely take in everything she sees; a long, narrow hallway lined with high heels that leads down to what looks like a sunken living room with a cream sofa and a floor-to-ceiling view of London. There’s a room to the right halfway down the hall, though, and it seems to be where Brooke’s voice came from, so Vanessa closes the front door and hears the click of the lock behind her as she follows it. Maybe she’s in the middle of something. Maybe she’s just busy and she wants Vanessa’s company while she finishes whatever it is she’s doing.

And then, as Vanessa turns into the room, the situation becomes immediately apparent.

Brooke’s bedroom is dark- the blinds are drawn and the only light comes from a few candles that are sitting on the tidy grey dressing-table under the window and the soft pink salt lamp that sits on the bedside table. The large bed pushed up against the wall takes up most of the room, and its sheets are white and perfectly ironed and crease-free.

They serve as a perfect backdrop to the sight that’s currently greeting Vanessa- Brooke, in a matching set of black Calvin Klein underwear, curled up against the pillows and scrolling her phone. The dark material makes Brooke’s pale skin pop, and the sight of her toned thighs and stomach forces Vanessa to squeeze her thighs together in spite of herself. Brooke looks up as she enters the room and smiles smugly, clearly happy to get the reaction Vanessa’s given her.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says, her voice light and sing-song and making the entire situation worse because the fact she’s so perfectly put-together while Vanessa is slowly becoming a melting, gooey mess in front of her is, for some reason, only making her want to rip Brooke’s clothes off even more than she already does. “Come sit.”

She gently pats the space on the bed next to her and Vanessa almost knocks herself out kicking her trainers off and letting her jacket fall to the floor as she scrambles up onto the bed. She feels herself blush as Brooke gives a soft laugh (presumably in response to just how eager she is) then decides she doesn’t really care how she’s coming across as Brooke leans in and closes the gap between them, kisses her with soft Chapstick lips that Vanessa feels as if she’s addicted to. Vanessa expects the kiss to be more than it is- flames of seductive fire that make one thing lead to another all too quickly- but instead it feels as if Brooke is deliberately holding back, teasing her a little. It’s not helping Vanessa’s desperation at all, and just as she brings a hand up to rest on Brooke’s hip, Brooke breaks the kiss.

“So,” Brooke begins cryptically, as she reaches for her phone where she’d discarded it against the sheets. “I was just scrolling Instagram, you know, as you do. And, uh, I felt a little bit confused.”

Vanessa frowns in tandem with Brooke, who finally appears to reach the post she’s been looking for. Brooke’s voice keeps its light tone as she continues. “Because apparently, according to these photos…it looks like you had a cute little reunion date with your ex today?”

Vanessa’s heart drops as Brooke turns her phone to show her the long-lens photograph posted by The Sun’s Instagram account. It’s her and Kameron at the coffee shop window, taken at the exact moment that Kameron had reached out and taken her hand and Vanessa had shot her a forgiving smile and taken hers in return, probably the most affection they’ve shown each other in a whole year.

But Jesus Christ, has it been taken out of context and then some.

She’s panicking, and she can feel her mouth opening and closing rapidly as she attempts to explain herself. The one saving grace about the whole situation is that Brooke appears to be…calm? Relaxed? She’s not flown off the handle, anyway, which Vanessa wouldn’t exactly have expected, and there’s also the fact she’s in a matching underwear set so clearly can’t be that mad at her. So Vanessa finally finds her voice, tells Brooke everything- how she’d only bumped into Kameron in the shop, and how it was just a coffee and nothing more, and how she’d actually finally received closure for everything that had happened between the two of them.

As she speaks, part of Vanessa wants to bring up the fact that she and Brooke aren’t even together together, so why Brooke’s so pressed about all of this Vanessa doesn’t know.

Unless Brooke wants them to be more than what they already are. And Vanessa has fucked it.

Shit.

“It’s just all a massive misunderstandin’, honestly,” Vanessa finishes, and she’s relaxing a little more now that Brooke’s body language is warmer. “I maybe should’ve texted you but I was gonna tell you tonight anyway, I promise. I wouldn’t…I just wouldn’t mess you about like that, Brooke.”

Brooke slowly lets a bashful smile creep across her face as she nods softly. “Okay.”

And, just because she can, Vanessa pulls her in for another kiss. This time there’s a little more heat to it which makes Vanessa’s stomach flutter in anticipation, but she still feels as if Brooke’s holding back. It’s only then that Vanessa remembers how Brooke had told her she liked being in control, how much Brooke got off on hearing her beg for what she wanted the first time they’d slept together, and it all falls into place.

Oh.

Before Vanessa can say anything, Brooke’s trailing her hand from its position cupping Vanessa’s jaw down her body to rest on her waist, and Vanessa’s mouth goes ever-so-slightly dry. Brooke’s face is still close as she speaks again. “See I thought that would be the case, because I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

Vanessa responds by mirroring Brooke’s touches, resting her own hand against her exposed thigh and delighting as she watches something darken behind Brooke’s eyes. Her tone changes a little as she continues. “But it did get me thinking…what if you did forget how good you had it one day?”

“Won’t happen,” Vanessa shakes her head, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth as Brooke pushes up the hem of her oversized white t-shirt, rests the palm of her hand against the bare skin at her waist. Vanessa squeezes her legs together again and she watches as Brooke flicks her gaze down, suppresses a smirk badly.

“It won’t?” Brooke pouts mockingly, and Vanessa loves it. “Well, just in case…I thought I’d show you what you’d miss if you ever did think you could do better than me.”

“Fuck,” Vanessa verbalises what she’s thinking in a hiss, as Brooke tugs at the bottom of her top and removes it quickly without Vanessa having to do anything other than raise her hands above her head.

Brooke dips her down so that her head’s resting against the pillows and presses kisses to Vanessa’s jaw, neck, collarbone, right down to the lace of her bra. Vanessa’s pulse is racing and she finds herself already spreading her legs, unable to help the way she needs Brooke to touch her.

“God, you’re so needy,” Brooke tuts disapprovingly into her skin, briefly reaching her hands under Vanessa’s back in an attempt to unhook her bra. Vanessa’s stomach tenses as she lifts herself off the mattress to help her, and soon the bra that she spent entirely too long picking out this morning is thrown halfway across the room onto the dark wood of Brooke’s bedroom floor.

“Says the girl that’s trying to get my boobs out in the first two minutes of foreplay- ah!” Vanessa cuts herself off as Brooke sucks a hickey into her collarbone. If she wanted to get Vanessa to shut up she’s succeeded, and so Vanessa instead focuses her attention on trailing her nails up and down Brooke’s back, delighting in the way the other girl shivers gently at the contact.

Brooke brings her lips up to meet Vanessa’s and she licks gently into her mouth as she strokes her thumb over one of her nipples, the contact making Vanessa flinch against the bed in the best kind of way. Vanessa trails a hand up Brooke’s back and pushes her fingers into her hair, and when Brooke breaks away her stomach flips at the way it’s all messed up and imperfect. Paired with Brooke’s blown pupils and plush lips, it’s a sight that makes Vanessa buck gently into the air almost without realising.

“Jesus. It really doesn’t take much, does it?” Brooke laughs gently as she loops a finger under the waistband of her leggings, and Vanessa shakes her head and pouts self-indulgently.

“Brooke…” she begins, then trails off when she doesn’t actually realise what she wants to say. She’s very happy to let her be in charge if this is what happens as a result, and when Brooke moves to straddle her it renders her twice as speechless as she was before.

“If this is you now, I’m almost scared for how you’re going to react when you see what I’m planning on doing to you,” Brooke says softly, the fake concern to her voice sending shockwaves rippling through Vanessa’s body. Before she can respond Vanessa gasps as Brooke pulls off her leggings, leaving her in the red thong she’d agonised over and the white ankle socks she’d put entirely less thought into. Brooke is left kneeling between Vanessa’s spread legs; dark heavy-lidded eyes, mouth hanging ever-so-slightly open. When she speaks, her voice is ragged.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she says, and maybe it’s the simplicity of it but Brooke’s words make Vanessa feel completely naked despite what she’s still wearing.

“You’re beautiful,” Vanessa breathes out in an instant reply.

Brooke pouts and trails one of her short acrylics up Vanessa’s inner thigh, ripping a whine from her. “You sure Kameron isn’t more beautiful?”

“Jesus,” Vanessa throws her head back against the pillow and lets out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t have you down as the jealous type at all.”

When she tilts her head up Brooke’s got an unimpressed eyebrow raised at her. “You’re already in trouble, this isn’t helping your case.”

Vanessa can’t resist the urge to tease her and so she sticks her tongue out in response. “Oh what, you gonna punish me? You gonna tie me to the bed an’ spank me?”

Brooke’s gaze darkens. There’s a pause as she crawls up the bed, hovers over Vanessa with her face close. Vanessa keeps her own eyes sparkling as she stays still, challenging her to see if she’ll crack even though she wants to grab her jaw and kiss her with the same intensity they’d shown each other earlier.

“Brooke Lynn’s jeal-ous,” she sing-songs right in her face, and when Brooke pulls back she’s wearing a dark expression. Vanessa brings her hands up to rest on Brooke’s waist, traces the outline of her waistband.

And when Brooke leans over to the top drawer of her bedside table, Vanessa’s eyes widen as she instantly realises what she means.

She produces a wireless pink wand vibrator, and Vanessa’s body hotwires.

“Fuck.”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke murmurs, lips quirking in a smile. “You’re going to get punished for the stunt you decided to pull today.”

“Oh no, I hate orgasms! What a terrible punishment,” Vanessa smiles back at her, sarcastic and indulgent.

“Who says you’re going to be allowed to have any?” Brooke frowns.

Vanessa instantly realises her mistake.

“Wait…but-”

“Yeah. I’d suggest you better start being extra nice to me,” Brooke interrupts her, resting the wand down on the bed beside one of Vanessa’s thighs and hooking her fingers around the waistband of her underwear to tug it off. While this is happening Vanessa shuffles against the sheets in anticipation, something curling tightly in the pit of her stomach and the throbbing between her legs becoming impossible to ignore. She wants so badly to be touched, wants Brooke to feel how wet she is and for her eyes to go all wide when she realises she’s the one that’s got her this worked up, but instead of her fingers or her tongue she’s using that stupid fucking vibrator and she’s not even going to be allowed to come.

Fuck.

“Please, Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa pouts, letting a hand trail up Brooke’s thigh from where she’s positioned herself between her legs.

Brooke gives a short laugh. “You think you’re begging me now, wait until I get started.”

“Promise I’ll be good for you,” Vanessa insists, the end of her sentence almost getting cut off with a gasp as Brooke presses the wand against her. It’s not even switched on yet but it’s something that Vanessa can grind against, and she bucks her hips gently against the head.  

“If you want me to turn it on you better keep those hips still,” Brooke says quickly, and Vanessa groans in resignation, lies still like she’s been asked.

She’s rewarded with a soft hum and a gentle buzz against her slit, and she can’t help the moan of satisfaction she gives in response as Brooke holds the wand there for a few moments, letting Vanessa get used to it. After so much build-up it feels like heaven, and the feeling leaves Vanessa wondering how long she’s going to last.

Brooke starts to swipe the wand up and down against her; lazy, slow motions that leave Vanessa squirming against the mattress every time she feels the vibrations brush against her clit. It’s not helping that Vanessa can see Brooke’s own chest rising and falling increasingly quickly, her pink, flushed cheeks, her hair all unkempt from Vanessa running her fingers through it.

“This good, babe?” Brooke asks, her tone ragged and her voice hoarse. When she snaps her gaze up to meet Vanessa’s eyes her pupils are blown and black and it sends an arrow through Vanessa’s heart that instantly shatters it as if it’s a piñata full of confetti.

“Mm,” is all Vanessa can manage, along with a rapid nod against the pillow.

“Not quite hearing a yes or a no there,” Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should just turn it off-”

“No, no, no, no! It’s good, it’s good, fuck, yes, please don’t stop,” Vanessa instantly reels off as if it’s a frantic prayer. Brooke’s probably the closest thing to religion she’s experienced in months.

“You sure? You sure Kameron wouldn’t do it better?” Brooke says teasingly, wiggling the vibrator against her clit as if to make a point and sending Vanessa into the stratosphere.

“No, I promise, I promise, babe, please, please, please,” she whines. She can hear herself pleading and she hopes it’ll help Brooke come round to the idea of letting her orgasm because if Brooke ups the setting on her wand then there’s no way she’s going to be able to exercise any form of restraint.

Brooke switches back to slowly sliding the vibrator against her, and Vanessa can feel Brooke’s grip on her thigh tighten.

“Fuck, I can see how wet you are from here.”

Vanessa feels herself throb, her body responding to Brooke’s words before she can. She fists both her her hands into the sheets, can’t see her knuckles but knows they’ve gone white. “You wanna taste me so bad.”

“So much,” Brooke pouts, nodding slowly. “But…you need to lie there and take your punishment.”

“Fuck. I miss when you were too shy to talk during sex,” Vanessa huffs, grumpy, and she’s immediately stopped from saying any more as the wand buzzes that little bit more intensely against her. Brooke brings it back up to her clit, rubs it in slow, small circles that drive Vanessa wild and render her almost incapable of thought.

“Sounds like you’re the one who can’t talk during sex,” Brooke deadpans, squeezing Vanessa’s thigh to punctuate her point.

She can feel how slick the wand is against her, only illustrating how wet she is. The hum of the vibrator and the gasps Vanessa can hear herself making are heightening her senses; it’s too much and not enough all at once. Both Brooke’s teasing and the sensation of the wand vibrating against her is making Vanessa’s inevitable orgasm build inside her, and it’s only a matter of time before she hits boiling point.

“Brooke- ah!- please…don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last…”

“Oh, no way,” Brooke says darkly, and in an instant the vibrator is off and Vanessa’s back is arching off the bed in frustration as she cries out in disappointment. “You don’t get to come yet, babe, not after the sass you just gave me.”

Vanessa instantly regrets opening her stupid mouth and teasing Brooke more than anything she’s ever regretted before in her life. She whines, reaches her hips up into the air as if she’s going to generate friction from nowhere, and Brooke’s pouting in mock-sympathy. Vanessa knows she could just spring up from her position against the bed, grab Brooke’s face and kiss her and pin her down and take the control back, but there’s part of her that knows how unbelievably satisfying it’s going to be when she does get to come if she’s this worked up already.

Brooke’s watching her with heavy-lidded eyes as she traces up her leg then fans her fingers out over her inner thigh and rubs her thumb against her clit. The contact makes Vanessa’s eyes almost roll into the back of her head; the wand has heightened her sensitivity and she’s by now so slick and wet from all of Brooke’s teasing that with every little rub of her thumb Vanessa can feel the fire between her thighs become completely out of control.

“God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this to you every fucking day since Blackpool,” Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa bucks against her thumb helplessly. “We’d be having to rehearse but all I wanted to do was just to make you beg for it again and again, fuck.”

“Should’ve told me.”

“Mm. I almost texted you about it. One of the nights I was lying in bed fucking myself with my fingers and remembering how good yours felt…remembering how you felt like fucking heaven underneath me…I could’ve sent you so many pictures that night…”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ you need to stop talking or I’m gonna come,” Vanessa squeezes her eyes shut. Brooke’s still teasing her clit and Vanessa knows she’s deliberately applying just not quite enough pressure. She’s so on edge and it feels like the most incredible form of torture.

“You want the wand back, sweetie?”

“Please, fuck, yes,” Vanessa begs, almost wanting to sob. When Brooke’s thumb gets replaced by the vibrating head of the wand she feels lightheaded, lets out a cry that she instantly knows Brooke’s neighbours will hear but she doesn’t care. Brooke’s teasing her badly, holding the wand against her, taking it away for a second, then replacing it, and Vanessa feels so sorry for herself that she starts pleading with her.

“Keep it on me, please,” she gasps out, and when she looks up at Brooke she’s smiling at her wickedly.

“Like this?”

Brooke ups the intensity the moment she makes contact and Vanessa can practically feel herself give a little gush against the wand. Her breath is coming in shallow gasps now, and she’s only just registering the fact that Brooke’s got her hand that isn’t holding the wand down under the waistband of her own underwear, playing with herself. There’s a light sheen of sweat against her chest that’s making her glow like an angel and the way her chest is rising and falling is mirroring Vanessa’s.

Vanessa now realises why people yell out declarations of love right in the middle of their orgasm.

“Why don’t you tell me how much you like it?” Brooke murmurs. Vanessa can see her bucking against her fingers and the sight makes her press herself down against the wand, the way the vibrations roll over her clit in waves making her want to scream.

“So much…so fucking much…”

“Anyone else gonna fuck you like me?”

“No, baby, no-one else, just you, fuck, only you,” Vanessa whimpers. She looks up at Brooke and the sight of her eyes closed in ecstasy, grinding against her fingers and her nipples hard through the fabric of her bra is enough to tip Vanessa on a very gradual decline over the edge. “Fuck, can I come, please?”

“Yes, babe, you can come.”

When Vanessa feels her clit sieze up then pulse frantically against the vibrations of the wand, she shouts out into the bedroom, the pace of her fuck, fuck, fuck in sync with the waves of her orgasm flooding through her body. Brooke holds the wand against her until she’s sure she’s finished and Vanessa can only lie against the mattress, completely worn out and exhausted, as she watches Brooke take the wand and hold it between her own legs, the thin material of her underwear dark between her legs as Vanessa realises just how wet Brooke must be as well.

And even though Vanessa’s too worn out to help her out in the way she wants to, it doesn’t stop her from sliding a lazy hand up her thigh. She takes a couple of shallow breaths before pouting up at Brooke.

“Aww. Did watching me get you too worked up, baby?”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke hums in reply, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she squeezes her eyes shut. It gives her an idea.

“Not used my mouth on you yet. Bet you wish I was doin’ it now.”

“Fuck, Vanessa, keep talking.”

“You don’t get to boss me around any more, princess. Keep talking what?”

Brooke’s face contorts into a frown as she ruts against the wand, eyes still closed. “Keep talking please.”

“Good girl,” Vanessa purrs, and she almost feels as if she could go for round two as she hears the way Brooke gasps in delight at the praise. “You want me to tell you how much I want to put my tongue between your legs and taste you and watch you come apart under me?”

“Ah…”

“Maybe you don’t want that, though. Maybe you want to sit on my face instead. Ride my tongue and shut me up so I can’t talk back to you and drip all over my face all dirty while I just lie there and take it like a good girl.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brooke hisses out. Vanessa’s surprising herself with what’s coming out of her mouth and how absolutely filthy it all is but she’s going with it because she knows Brooke’s close.

“Tell me how much you want it.”

“Fuck, want it so much.”

“You’re so close, aren’t you?”

“Vanessa…fuck, please…”

Vanessa regains enough strength to sit up and cup Brooke’s face with her hands, meeting her lips with her own and teasing her with a slow, deep kiss. Vanessa flicks her tongue inside her mouth and when she rubs it over Brooke’s she cries out against her lips, her moans almost-but-not-quite swallowed by Vanessa’s kiss as she comes.

Brooke breaks away as she falls against the mattress and Vanessa follows her, lying down beside her and gently switching the wand off. They lay there in silence, Brooke’s gasps and the buzzing in Vanessa’s ears the only things she can still focus on until Brooke reaches out a hand to curl around one of Vanessa’s. Vanessa throws a leg over Brooke, pulls her closer so that Vanessa can rest her head against her chest and feel her frantic heartbeat.

“Fuck me,” Brooke whispers breathlessly, and Vanessa lets out a chuckle.

“What, again? Thought you’d at least want a break first.”

“Shut up,” Brooke giggles. There’s a pause as she presses her lips to Vanessa’s head, mouths something Vanessa can’t hear or see. Then she mutters again, a little louder. “You’re so amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Vanessa replies childishly, though the way Brooke’s chest judders against her in a laugh Vanessa assumes she doesn’t mind. She flinches a little as Brooke’s stomach gives a loud rumble. “Oh yeah. Forgot you were meant to be making dinner.”

“Hey, I have made dinner thank you very much! It’s in the slow cooker. Cuban beef and rice if that’s okay?” Brooke asks, and Vanessa doesn’t miss the little nervous tone in her voice. It’s adorable.

“Sure it is.”

Brooke lends Vanessa some pyjamas to shove on in lieu of the outfit she’d arrived in, and Vanessa’s heart swells a little at the implication that she’s going to be staying over. She’s not sure if she’ll try and breach the subject of what they are tonight- the evening is already so perfect and Vanessa doesn’t want to ruin anything, especially not when they’re curled up on the sofa with bowls of warm food in their laps and laughing guiltily at the way Jan is sobbing because she and Jackie have become the latest ones to leave the competition after a tense dance-off with Crystal and Gigi.  

“It’ll be a close final, though. Like that’s everyone been in the bottom now,” Vanessa contemplates, tilting her head in thought from her position at the other side of the sofa. Brooke nods, then snorts again.

“God. I feel for Jan, but she just has such a memeable crying face. Like Kim K,” Brooke snorts again, as some ridiculous BBC One gameshow that seems to be based around celebrities strapped into a wheel starts in the background.

“Jan’ll be fine. She’ll recover, she’s a big girl. She’s got Jackie anyway,” Vanessa shrugs. Brooke hums in response, and then there’s a palpable silence that fills the room, almost like Brooke is about to say something. Vanessa waits.

“So today got me thinking,” Brooke finally says, reaching out and curling her fingers around Vanessa’s. Her eyes are in her lap and she’s not meeting her gaze. Vanessa is, in every sense, on the edge of her seat.

“Uh-huh?”

“When I saw those pictures of you and Kameron,” Brooke continues, the reminder making Vanessa’s heart drop. “I got so envious…and then I thought, well…what’s the only way I can make sure Vanessa’s just mine?”

Brooke finally looks at her, and every fibre of Vanessa’s being lifts in hope. “So, uh, I was wondering…if you would want to be my girlfriend.”

And when Vanessa blinks, she can see fireworks explode behind her eyes. She’s unable to help the huge, dumb smile that breaks out on her face as she blushes shyly, gives a nod.

“‘Course I would, baby.”

The smile that bursts onto Brooke’s face mirrors her own, and Vanessa can’t help but lean in and pepper Brooke’s face with kisses, wrap her arms around her in a cuddle.

“Officially yours, now,” Vanessa smiles excitedly, as she rests her head against Brooke’s chest. She can’t see Brooke’s face, but she knows she’s smiling too.

And suddenly, a little sentence appears in Vanessa’s head, three very small and simple words that she’s not thought about in a long time but just make sense in that moment. She looks up at Brooke, meets her gaze and feels her heart thump.

Maybe she can save that for another day.

#rpdr fanfiction #ortega #bet you look good on the dancefloor #strictly au #lesbian au #branjie #past kamjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #kameron michaels #smut

[athena-athena]

:) May I please request ‘cuddling under a blanket watching Christmas movies’ with yondu please.

Thank you for your request!  I hope you like it!  

Warnings: None.

Tagged list:  @trashpandaorigins  @bigbandbombshell  @celticheart72 (I’m not going to use my normal tagged list for these, so if you’d like to be added to my temporary tagged list for this holiday bingo, just let me know!)

Clapping your hands, you announced, “It’s December 1st, Yondu!  Guess what that means!”

“Time ta change tha oil in tha Eclector?”

“No!  It’s time to start watching Christmas movies!  We’ve only got twenty-five days to watch them so we have to start tonight.”

“Didn’t we watch ‘em last year?”

“Yes, but I watch them every year.”

“Why? They different ever’ year or somethin’?”

“No! It’s just a tradition.  It helps put me in the Christmas mood.”

Yondu raised a brow.  “Know what kinda mood I’m in?”

You lightly slapped his arm.  “Shut up, Yondu!  No time for that now – we’re watching Christmas movies.”  

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to your quarters, where you’d already tossed a warm blanket on the couch and set up your holopad to project the movies onto the wall, two cups of hot chocolate waiting on the small table in front of the couch.  

You jumped onto the couch and pulled the blanket over you, lifting the corner and patting the empty place on the couch beside you.  “Come on, Yondu!”

He slowly sat down next to you and you tucked the blanket around him.  “Don’t see why ya’d wanna watch these more’n once.”

“It’s fun!”

He gave you a skeptical look and you suddenly experienced a vivid memory of the last time you’d made him watch Christmas movies with you.  He had something to say about every single one: “What’s wrong with that deer’s nose?”

“Never seen a talkin’ snowman before.”

“Tha hell’s that green thing?”  “It’s the Grinch.”  “Tha hell’s a Grinch?”

“She’s right, ya know.  He’s gonna shoot his eye out.”

“Shoulda got that kid instead of Quill – at least he’d be handy with settin’ traps.  Plus, he’s home alone anyway, he’d probably like ta go ta space.”

You shook your head to clear the memory.  Surely this year would be better.  

“So what movie should we watch first?”

“Up ta you, darlin’.”

You scrolled through the selections for a moment, then said, “How about A Charlie Brown Christmas?”

Yondu shrugged.  “If that’s what’cha want.”

You started the movie, then snuggled closer to Yondu, who put his arm around your shoulders.

As expected, he talked through most of the movie, but you found you didn’t mind.  You looked up at him and smiled fondly.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Ya starin’ at me fer no reason instead of watchin’ yer movie?”

You laughed.  “It’s not for no reason.  This is just really nice.”

He grinned.  “Yeah, reckon it is.”  

Your smile softened and you leaned up to kiss him, then snuggled into him again before turning your attention back to the movie.

A few minutes passed before Yondu broke the silence again.

“That’s tha saddest lookin’ tree I’ve ever seen.  That poor kid. Somebody should tell him that ain’t a tree, it’s a branch. Groot’d be offended at that pitiful excuse fer a tree.”

“Yondu, please, you’re missing the point.”

A few more minutes of silence passed and you were surprised he hadn’t continued to comment about the tree.  When the movie ended, you looked over at him.  

“What did you think about the mov-”

You stopped talking once you realized Yondu was asleep.  You smiled and kissed his cheek, lowered the volume on your holopad, and started another movie.

Halfway through Mickey’s Christmas Carol, you glanced over to see Yondu awake and fully interested in the movie.

“What do you think of this one so far?”

Not taking his eyes from the movie, he whispered, “Shhh, darlin’, not durin’ tha movie.”

Stifling your laugh, you whispered back, “Okay, sorry.”

Still watching the movie, he pulled you closer and you snuggled into him again, glad that you’d finally found a movie he seemed to like, and happy just to be able to cuddle close to him without interruption.  

#yondu #yondu x reader #yondu fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #happy holiday bingo

[anotheroneatstheass]

Somebody To Love - Part Two

Part One here

Before I start I kinda changed ideas for this story whilst writing this but it gives way to more angst and shit like that. Some of this was written whilst drunk and I got tired of spending literally weeks writing this so the last paragraph or so is rushed so I’m sorry this is probably awful I promise it will get better when I haven't got exams, college, and work taking up all my time. 

Feel free to send me any asks/messages whether it's saying you enjoyed it or telling me everything that's wrong. I’m fine with anything.

Warnings: Smoking, drinking, mentions of pregnancy

Words: 2k plus (Chapters will hopefully start getting bigger when I dont rush sorry this is such a shit chapter ugh)

“Fun night?” Joe said laughing at the two of you. 

You blushed as you quickly pushed Ben out of your apartment, quickly closing the door behind him and sighing as you walked into the kitchen. You ignored your friends as they watched you make some cereal, knowing you were about to be bombarded with questions the second you paid any attention towards the two of them. 

You sat down still not looking at them and ate your cereal in silence.  It was only as you put your bowl in the sink that Katie finally broke the silence “You might want to cover that hickey before we go out.” You turned around walking over to the mirror as Joe laughed. There was a large bruise on the side of your neck, revealing the previous night's activities to everyone. You gasped slapping your hand over it as you ran back into your room not saying another word as your friends chuckled between each other.  

You sighed looking around your room, it was still a mess but you barely had enough time to get ready. You walked over to your bathroom and turned the shower on letting it heat up. You started getting undressed, suddenly noticing even more love-bites littering your body. You groaned looking at them all in the mirror before getting in the shower, attempting to scrub them away but to no avail. 

Once you were done in the shower you walked back into your room and started drying your hair, occasionally stopping to hear Katie remind you how little time you had left to get ready, before putting some makeup on. You sighed as you put makeup over the hicky, failing to make it completely unnoticeable but you hoped it was enough to stop people asking about it. Once you were ready you left your room seeing Katie and Joe standing at the door. “C’mon, y/n we’re gonna be late” Joe dragged you out and into the taxi that had been waiting for the trio for nearly fifteen minutes. 

The whole ride there your friends made jokes about you and Ben, mockingly repeating things they heard the two of you say as you groaned with your head in your hands. It felt like the longest drive of your life by the time you finally arrived at the interview. Your eyes barely left the floor as your friends went to meet up with Ben and the others. 

“What's up with you two?” Gwilym asked making your head snap up. You and Ben had been stood next to each other both fiddling with your hands, clearly nervous. The guys were used to the pair of you messing around with each other and making fun of the other, not standing in silence barely making a contribution to the conversation. 

“Just tired mate” Ben grumbled beside you and you nodded, sending a glare over at Katie as she stood there smirking next to her boyfriend wearing a similar smirk. “Not surprised you're tired, y/n, even I’m tired after all the noise you made last night” Katie giggled as your friends all looked over wanting to ask questions but were soon silenced by someone coming out to tell them they needed to get ready for the interviews.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you followed your friends along a maze of corridors until you eventually got to a small dark room and sat on a sofa behind all the cameras and people rushing around trying to make sure everything's ready. The boys walked over to a similar sofa as someone came round putting mics on them. You noticed them getting rearranged a couple times as Katie leaned over “It seems bens got one too” she giggled, ringing your attention to the matching bruise on Bes neck that appeared every time he looked at one of the boys. It seemed you noticed at the same time as everyone else as Ben was quickly asked to sit at the end of the sofa so it wouldn’t be visible when he turned to look at the others.

You sat there for hours, occasionally getting someone some water or something to eat, but by the time their break came you were exhausted. It's not even like what you were doing was hard. Hours of listening to the same 20 questions being asked and the same 20 stories being told were really becoming boring. But it was only day one of the interviews, as you continually reminded yourself. You had another month to go, you were such you'd be sick of hearing about how live aid was filmed on day one and Joe's perm story. Your only distraction being your own thoughts.

But that was a million times better than your life waiting for you once the month was over. Going back to unbearable hours working multiple jobs is never something you would have looked forward to but what else was there for you to do? It’s not like you could afford to live in London and do anything less than that. The worst part was that you couldn’t work with your best friends anymore. All the inside jokes, all the messing around on set, all the Saturday night drinks when you were all too exhausted but went anyway. That was all over. You all agreed to keep doing it but you were used to people moving on and letting you down.

Then again never seeing Ben again after last night didn’t seem like the worst thing ever. You couldn’t believe it had even happened. How had you been so stupid to fuck your mate? Sure Katie suggested you get some action but never would she mean Ben. He couldn’t even look at you when you walked in. He clearly regretted it too. Did he remember any more than you did? 

You were soon pulled out of your thoughts as Gwilym waved his hand in front of your face. “Huh yeah, what?” You quickly said standing up as you noticed everyone looking at you. A blush crept over your face as you looked at Ben and his hickey. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Gwilym looking between the two of you with a smirk. “Y/n tell us more about the guy who gave you that” he pointed at the hickey on your own neck as you quickly mumbled something about inviting a guy home from the party and that you couldn’t remember who he was.

“That's funny, Ben said the same thing about the girl who gave him his” Rami joined in realising what Gwilym was hinting at. It was only confirmed by Joe’s chuckle as he quickly tried to hide his face.

“Can we drop it? I don’t want to talk about it...” You said as you began walking to the door, desperately wanting to leave the room for some air. You walked straight out not even bothering to wait for the others and headed in the opposite direction of where you had been told to go for food. You pushed open a door and sighed in relief to be outside. You opened your bag and took out a cigarette quickly lighting it as you ran your hands along your arms trying to warm yourself up.

“Do you not think you should tell them? You know they’ll never shut up about it...” You turned around seeing Joe walk outside.

“I just want to pretend it never happened though. If I tell them then everyone knows and I can’t avoid it” You brought the cigarette back up to your lips despite Joe’s disapproving look. 

“It’s happened though, y/n.” 

“I know but it shouldn’t have! We were just friends and I love being friends with him but now I’ve gone and fucked it all up. He can barely even look at me!” You said not even realising you were nearly shouting by the end. You wiped a tear from your cheek as you looked at Joe again “Telling the others isn’t going to make any of it better, it’s just going to fuck it up even more. I mean, what would I even say? ‘Hey guys I shagged Ben, by the way when do we meet for the flight tomorrow?’ there’s just no easy way to tell them.”

“Wow, I thought it would have been harder to get you to admit it” You looked at Joe to see him smirking at the source of the voice behind you. Gwil walked around to face you as you moved your hands to your face letting out a groan.

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture so don’t even try it Lee,” you said pushing your cigarette butt into the ashtray and crossing your arms. 

“I wasn’t going to...I want to...but you look like you have murder on your mind and I don’t want to be the one to get killed right now.” He said laughing lightly trying to cheer you up.

The rest of the afternoon was equally as slow and boring as the morning. You told Ben that Gwilym found out, who then told Rami. Of course, the boys didn’t let the pair of you off easily. All throughout lunch they teased you both asking millions of questions for you both to dodge as you tried to put it behind you both. 

The afternoon felt like it lasted twice as long as the morning had, and by the time you got back to your apartment you were just about ready to collapse into bed. And you would have done, if you hadn’t walked into devastation the second you got in your room. The duvet was still in a pile on the floor, as were your clothes. You sighed picking your dress up from behind the door, eyes scanning the room for your underwear as memories filled your head from the previous night. You walked around your room tidying it up, stopping when you saw the empty condom wrapper. At least you had used protection.

Eventually you got into bed, pulling your phone out as you read through everyone’s conversations on the group chat. It was mainly sad messages about Ben having to go film instead of joining the press tour. That seemed more like a blessing to you though. You wouldn’t have to see him until the end of December, by which point you’d be back at home with your family anyway.

You quickly fell asleep. Your brain full of thoughts about the trip to America and Japan coming up, and Ben. Ben wouldn’t escape your thoughts for weeks. Through everything you did in New York, Ben’s name always got mentioned. The boys, of course, wanted him to be with them enjoying the press tour together. You understood why they kept talking about him, and why every time you went to your hotel room your phone was flooded with messages of the boys sharing their day with each other. You did enjoy the occasional picture Ben took of Ryan Reynolds, a crush of yours, but the others had noticed how that was the only time the two of you would talk to one another. What had gone from taking over the chat with inside jokes and banter and had become the occasional two or three messages before letting the boys get back to whatever they were discussing. You adored being in New York of course. Most evenings were spent either at events or celebrating, always enough alcohol for you to forget what had happened back in London.

Soon enough you found yourselves in Japan. You were more than happy to be spending time traveling the world and going to premiers but being there just meant how little time you had left before your jobs started. You made the most of everything, staying out the longest, waking up the earliest. Every little thing the boys had to do, you were there whether you were needed or not. 

But things soon started going downhill for yourself. It was only a matter of time before all the fun stopped. Each morning you woke up at an unnecessary time to vomit anything you’d eaten the day before. The first hour or so of the day was spent on your bathroom floor, usually crying too. It was the last full day in Japan, a week after the vomiting started, when Katie knocked on your hotel room door with a bag of pregnancy tests. “Please just take one, we can at least wipe out that possibility before going to the doctors to see what's up with you,” She said as you looked at the array of tests she’d picked up from the local pharmacy. For half an hour you stared at the bag with her sat next to you trying to convince you to do it. 

Eventually, you sighed picking up the bag and walking into the bathroom. You took one of the boxes out, reading the instructions even though you were sure you knew how to use a pregnancy test. You placed it next to the sink as you pulled your phone out to time the test, instantly being met with messages from Ben. 

Benjamin: Can we meet up when I get back? Think we should clear the air after what happened...

You stared at the message. You probably would need to meet up after these tests, if you got that result. You scrolled through Instagram for a while not bothering to reply to his message just yet. You waited for the alarm to go off before standing up and looking at the test. Quickly you got the next one out, and the next. Taking all the tests and drinking more water than you ever had in your life until they were all gone. At this point, you realised you’d been locked in the bathroom for an hour and had your friends knocking on the door, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t. You just kept staring at the tests, all saying what you really didn’t want them to say. You were pregnant.

Taglist (let me know if you wanna be added to this)

@rexorangecounty

#Ben Hardy #Ben Hardy fanfic #Ben Hardy fic #Ben Hardy fanfiction #Ben Hardy imagine #Ben Hardy x reader #Bohemian Rhapsody #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #borhap #borhap movie #bohemian rhapsody movie #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #rami malek #freddie mercury #roger taylor #john deacon #Brian May #oliver queen #gwilym lee fic #joe mazzello fic #rami malek fic #roger taylor fic #john deacon fic #freddie mercury fic #brian may fic #somebody to love #somebody to love fic

[junionigiri]

Boom Clap [bnha: vigilantes one shot]

Story Summary: Haimawari Koichi is quite content spending New Year's Eve alone in his run-down rooftop apartment, but Iida Tensei has other plans.

Relationship: Haimawari Koichi/Iida Tensei

Rating: T

Warnings/Notes: haha wtf is a  warm-up drabble anyways. this isn’t edited but whatever. gonna go back to my other AU in a bit. Happy new year everyone :)

31 December 20XX, 2154H

Haimawari Koichi watches the night sky alone.

He has cans of beer, one of them already open and half-empty in his hand. His phone is out, but apart from taking piss-poor quality photos of the stray fireworks already colouring the night sky in vivid oranges and greens and pinks, it is glaringly quiet. Almost… annoyingly so. But he can’t complain.

Pop is finally spending time with her family and not with some college-aged vigilante, as proper middle school girls ought to. Makoto-senpai is with her older brother too--she managed to pressure him into going home to see their parents after so long.

His college friends wouldn’t step near here, for obvious reasons. And the kinda-friends he’s met as a vigilante… well, Koichi’s kind of dense, but even he understands that inviting Eraserhead for a beer here isn’t the most genius idea.

Knuckleduster… well who knows where he really is right now. Koichi only hopes that he’s alive wherever he is. He doesn’t have a lot of chances to say that he misses that insane master of his, not even to himself.

And… that’s the extent of his friends, he realizes. Those close enough that he can theoretically ask to spend some time with him on his little rooftop in the city, at least.

That’s… kind of sad. But he tries not to think about that too much.

There’s no one else here.

It’s not so bad, he supposes. Life as a college student by day, a vigilante by night isn’t exactly the most quiet. He made up a stupid University-related excuse not to go home to Mom’s because villains don’t take the holidays off (and also he prefers meeting the new year without being slapped silly like a fly). So he should really enjoy the quiet, while he can.

Another stray firework explodes above his head. He tries to capture it on camera, for what it’s worth. As expected, it looks shitty, exactly what you get from a flip-phone camera.

He deletes it.

It’s quiet. A breeze blows by, cold and biting, but his All Might hoodie keeps him warm.

It’s the perfect time for a villain to strike. If he were a villain, he’d strike now.

He looks at the streets below his complex. Come on. Somebody? Anybody?

Nope. Nada. He sighs, and looks up the sky again. Maybe he should patrol, or something? Ah, but during holidays like this, the younger heroes are out and about, on higher alert than on a normal day. If he ran into any of them, he might just be the one to get arrested. Not the best thing to happen to greet the new year.

His phone rings like a bell, startling him. “Ah--”

He flips his phone open. A single message, a short one, but just enough to make his heart flutter.

Tensei Iida (2201H): Happy New Year to you and your family! Here’s hoping that the incoming year is prosperous! Let’s work hard together! - Turbo Hero Ingenium

He’s two hours too early for the generic new year’s greeting texts, isn’t he? He must have thought ahead and sent the message before the signals got congested. Figures that the Turbo Hero is ahead of everyone, even new year’s texts.

Still… Koichi’s smiling a little too wide just receiving a generic greeting. Ah, frickin’ stupid, really--

Their chat thread isn’t exactly brimming with messages, either. In fact, this is the first message in their log. They exchanged numbers ages ago during one of their runs, but there really isn’t a good reason for either of them to send messages to each other. Besides, Koichi thinks that it wouldn’t be good for one of the more popular heroes to be in close contact with an infamous vigilante--who knows when the police might need to check his text records, or something…

Oh… and also, his crippling shyness gets in the way of making a proper human-like text too, let’s not forget about that.

His fingers tap nervously against the keys of his phone, erasing and re-typing and erasing his messages again. Double-thinking whether it’s too eager or too disinterested or just right for him to text now, or in a minute, or in an hour--

What is he going to say, anyway? Blessings to you too, please keep watching out for us? Yeah, let’s work hard together, you on the legal side and me on the dark shady criminal side? Yeah man I can’t wait til we run again, please wear tighter jogging shorts this year hehe jk lol. Oh, wait, is this the appropriate time to confess his crazy gay crush yet? With any luck, the moment Tensei reads it, there’s fireworks in the sky, boom boom and then--

Koichi, no. Just. No.

He inhales, and lets his thumbs fly over the keypad. Happy New Year, he starts out in Japanese, ending with a :) .

Too plain. He deletes that.

Happy New Year, he writes, in English this time. There, that’s not too plain, that might be something that Tensei will at least be a lil bit amused to read. Right. He thinks about it a little more, and adds another :) .

Well. That won’t make any hearts throb. That’s… seenzoned material, that’s not really-- yeah, that’s really boring, even for a generic new year’s greeting that he’s spent a lot of thought on.

A generic new year’s greeting that he’s spent five… ten… fifteen minutes composing already. What the fuck, Koichi. Just say something, anything, just fill up the screen with some shitty fireworks kaomoji and blame it on Pop if he asks about it.

He takes a deep breath. Okay, so… the past year he’s gotten away a lot with being a little more impulsive, right? So just… say what you want, and just let things happen. Most likely nothing will happen, so.

Me: Happy New Year! Thanks for all your help this year. Hope you and your family are doing well, ‘specially Tenya. If you’re patrolling, I hope you don’t run into anyone too dangerous lol~

Before he berates himself for sounding stupid, he presses send. It gets delivered at 2218H.

Okay. Well that isn’t so bad. But the cutesy ~ makes him cringe.

He shuts his phone with a satisfying snap and takes a sip of his beer. Ugh, his face is getting warm, this beer isn’t cold enough! Come on, isn’t it supposed to be winter, where are the bitter biting winds when you need them?

No cold wind comes, only another message. He almost tosses his phone over the side of the building the moment his phone chimes again.

He takes a deep breath, flips his phone open and reads:

Tensei Iida (2221H): Thanks, Haimawari-kun! Tenya’s doing well, he’s with our grandparents outside the city. Just about to finish my shift now tho, so obviously I won’t be celebrating with everyone ^_^’ Are you patrolling too? Try not to get caught, okay?

Ahhh ahhh a real reply ahhhhhhh a blessed smiley from Ingenium, ahhh. He needs to go in and put his head in the freezer.

But he doesn’t--Tensei replied to him really fast, so surely it’s polite to reply to him really fast too. I mean it’s the polite thing to do. A guy on patrol in a quiet city has the means to reply fast, so he should return the favor.

Trying to will his heart not to go doki doki much like a shoujo manga heroine, he struggles to type, Oh, im not lmao theres a lot of you out there and i dont want to spend the new year in prison.

Tensei Iida (2224H): You’re right! That’s a relief. I don’t want to go to Tartarus just so we can go jogging together! ;) Tensei Iida (2224H): so are you with your folks? Out of town?

The winky face, and the implication that Tensei would visit him in maximum security prison should the opportunity arises almost kills him on the spot. Koichi suppresses another urge to roll over the cement tiles of the rooftop and manages to reply:

Me (2226H): nah. naruhata Tensei Iida (2327H): oh. In the university dorm, by yourself? Me (2228H): haha no lmao i dont live in the university. i live up on the roof in that one rundown apartment two blocks away cant miss it Me (2229H): but yeah by myself Tensei Iida (2331H): !!! on new years eve? Me (2232H): yeah? Tensei Iida (2335H): Oh! Well, that’s not good... Me (2236H): lmao do u feel that sorry for me Tensei Iida (2337H): It’s not that! Sorry hahahaha Me (2238H): its ok haha

Well, that’s a little awkward. Koichi doesn’t know what to say next, and when the minutes pass by, the speedy replies suddenly stops. He tries to type out another reply to tell him to change the subject but he has no clue how to proceed.

And then, the minutes pass in silence. There are more fireworks rising in the skies now, building up a crescendo for the bigger ones scheduled for midnight. They’re really pretty, but Koichi’s guts are in turmoil, giddiness making them churn in one direction, and pure anxiety in the opposite direction.

Fifteen minutes later, to his surprise, his phone chimes again.

Tensei Iida (2253H): 16th st apartment complex?

A firework goes boom behind his head. Koichi blinks. Uh. yeah, he types in dumbly.

Tensei Iida (2254H): Ok. Look down. :D

Koichi stares at the message for another dumb second and almost trips over himself rushing to the edge.

It’s a little hard to see since he’s way down there, but Koichi doesn’t miss the shiny silver and blue of Ingenium’s mecha-inspired hero suit. He’s waving up at him, and Koichi hopes that he sees him waving back.

He’s prepared to turn on his heel and run down to meet him, but he sees Tensei hold his hand up, in a gesture for him to stay right where he is. Koichi tilts his head curiously, raises both arms in a confused shrug.

He’s far away, but Koichi sees him give his trademark grin. He goes five steps backwards…

And Recipro-bursts his way up the side of the building.

“Holy sh--”

It’s less than half a minute when Ingenium makes it up and over the ledge. Smoke rises from the engines of his arms and it’s really concerning, but the way the Turbo Hero is just smiling at him with a salute, like he’s in a mission to rescue him from the burning building of his heart just... makes him melt in a stupid puddle without any sense of comprehension.

“Hey there, Crawler,” Tensei says, stepping closer to him.

“Hey,” Koichi stammers out. “Um… that was neat and all, but you know we have an elevator, so--”

The pro laughs. “Yeah, but elevators are pretty slow, and I wanted to see you faster than they would allow me.”

Anyone who is interested is free to canvass Koichi’s corpse of its vital organs. Just. Say the word.

“Yeah, you were… pretty fast, haha.” His voice catches like he’s still in puberty. He clears his throat. “I didn’t know you could run up the sides of buildings. That’s pretty insane.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know I could too.”

“Uh.”

Tensei collapses on the floor, legs crossed and arms waving in front of him like they’re boneless. “You wouldn’t happen to have any juice there, would you? My arms are feeling pretty wobbly, and--”

Aaaah wtf! “Y-yeah, hang on a sec, Iida--”

Koichi glides in his apartment in the speed of light and rummages through the scanty contents of his fridge. He has to dig a bit to find the stock of grapefruit juice at the back.

(Since that incident with the Catbus, he buys a stock of them on impulse and carries a bottle with him during patrols. In the tiny chance that he runs into Tensei and he needs extra fuel, he’s frickin’ ready. And if he doesn’t, well… grapefruit juice doesn’t taste that bad, so…)

He’s back to Tensei in record time. He tosses the bottle to him, and the pro chugs it down gratefully. He instantly looks refreshed at the last gulp, puts down the bottle with an aahhh and only grins at Koichi’s distress.

“What the heck, Iida! You haven’t done anything like that before?!”

He laughs awkwardly. “I’ve run up two storeys before, but--”

Koichi’s apartment complex is, like, ten storeys high. “Y-you could have gone splat or kaboom on the way up here, man! You could have been a really bloody human firework!”

Tensei shrugs. “I didn’t though! This tells me a lot about what I can do with my quirk!”

He’s a little too chill for someone who could have fallen ten storeys down onto the dirty Naruhata pavement, Koichi thinks. He gives him an exasperated look and collapses next to him. “Yeah, I guess, but… you didn’t have to do all that just to see me…”

He grins at him again, leans his head closer to his, like he tends to do from time to time. Koichi reckons that it’s because Tensei doesn’t have a good sense of personal space, but all the same it makes his heart throb painfully in his chest. “I felt like I did. Let me show off from time to time, Haimawari-kun.”

Ahh you cheesy bastard, Tensei, you bleeding show-off. It’s a good thing it’s so dark, because he’s sure he’s a cherry tomato by that time, and he can’t blame it on the half-empty can of beer next to him. “Hah! Sure, do that… I’d show off my new moves to you too if I could. You’re lucky I can’t, you’d feel like a total slowpoke hahaha--”

What the fuck is he saying, he doesn’t know anymore. This back-and-forth shit-talking thing (Makoto insists that it’s flirting, but Koichi disagrees because hah why would Iida Tensei flirt with a guy like him?) is more natural when they’re running out the streets and out of breath from trying to outdo each other. Without the excuse of physical exhaustion to explain away his stammering, Koichi’s a little worried of how brainless he might have sounded then.

Tensei only looks more and more amused, and doesn’t get any less close. “I dunno about that, Crawler. Been a while since we had a real race.”

“Heh, you’re right.” Koichi has been more careful using his quirk in public, out of disguise. He doesn’t wear his All Might hoodies when he’s around Tensei, unless by accident.

A silence falls between them, a slightly uncomfortable one where Koichi is hyperaware of the steadily increasing proximity between them, of the alcohol in his veins, of his rushing pulse. Trying to distract himself, he reaches out for an unopened can of beer and offers this to Tensei, who accepts.

He pulls the tab off the cheap, lukewarm thing, tilts it close to his. “Cheers.”

Koichi nods. “Cheers.”

They take a swig in unison. Fireworks explode above them, spurts of colors in the sky. The shine of the lights above do something interesting over the steel of Tensei’s suit.

“Hey, so… if you want to take your suit off--”

“Hm?” Tensei looks down on himself. “You want me to strip down? I usually expect dinner first, but for you--”

“That’s not what I--” Koichi stammers, as he flushes in an ever deeper scarlet that he doesn’t think is even possible. Ah, how drunk is he, huh? How Asian is he that he would turn this red, just from drinking this teensy amount of beer?

He takes off the metal plates more carelessly than Koichi reckons he should be handling them, and lets them down on the floor next to him with a sound. Tensei looks grateful for the extra breathing space as he leans back to appreciate the growing noise and lights above them. “This is an awesome spot, Koichi. The view’s great from up here, huh?”

“Yeah, you know it.”

(And the younger boy leans back, away from him, and tries not to appreciate how Tensei looks in just that tight black bodysuit thing he has underneath. Lean, broad, muscly, like a Greek god, and...)

A few quiet moments pass by. Tensei finishes a can. Koichi works on his third one and he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly drinking so fast. He coughs a little to clear up his suddenly tight throat. “So it’s weird because you almost died going up here, but thanks for coming up here, I guess… it’s pretty cool being up here, by myself--”

Perfectly content, and lonely, and quite possibly drunk by himself by this time, but not as drunk as he feels right there next to him--

“--but it’s cool not… looking at all the pretty lights by myself this time,” he struggles out. Stupid, really, he isn’t even looking at the fireworks anymore, just the beer can under his nose, like he’s reading tea leaves and begging for some clarity.

“Yeah. I’m glad I invited myself up here, too,” Tensei says gently. “I’m shameless I know, but knowing you’re alone up here, I couldn’t help myself--”

Koichi laughs nervously. “Yeah, you are pretty--”

When he turns his head, Tensei’s nose is two centimeters away from his. His eyes are looking right into his, freezing him in place.

“... pretty,” he swallows, already lost. “... shameless.”

Tensei makes a sound in his throat, so quiet that he can’t hear it among the sounds of explosions, but he’s so close he feels the hit, like he Shooty-Go-Blammed himself in the chest. He might be agreeing or disagreeing but fuck whatever they were talking about, Koichi can’t remember why the small talk matters anymore.

Tensei puts one gloved hand underneath his chin, a lackadaisical grin on his face showing off that sharp incisor that Koichi thinks is very cute. “Pretty,” he agrees.

He feels the change in the air, feels the charge spark in between them, through his eyeballs and his little brain.

They lean in closer. Eyes flutter closed. Koichi’s heart is beating fast and hot and electric.

Lips touch.

Explosions go off in his brain.

Ahhh, Koichi screams in his head, as the sensation of Tensei’s insanely soft lips on his beery virgin ones immediately makes him question reality. One hand goes up to experimentally touch the back of the older man’s head, fingers threading through that soft, dark hair. He pushes a little, nudges him just a little closer to him. The minuscule distance between them practically disappears.

“Ahhh--” This time his mental scream is an audible gasp when Tensei pushes him down on the concrete, supporting his head and back with gloved hands, and continues the kissing with Koichi underneath him.

Sparks of light litter the night air, like violent blooming flowers against the infinite canopy of darkness, in booms and kablooeys and claps and other ridiculous noises. Koichi doesn’t care to wax poetic about them, not when his heart is probably doing the same shit, with Tensei and his warmth is right there above him, feeling so nice and right.

Yeah, he belongs right here, right in his arms. What the hell has he done all year, the blur that is his 19 years of life, before this?

Eventually they have to break the kiss to get some of that chill air between their lungs. They gasp in unison, a dashing smile on Tensei’s face, and a dopey smile on Koichi’s. The older man caresses the side of his face. “Haimawari-kun,” he says gently.

“Yeah? Ah, it’s Koichi, by the way.”

Tensei nods. “Koichi-kun,” he repeats.

That right there is the stuff of dreams. Koichi feels like he’s overheating, despite the winter night. “Hah, is it new years yet, Iida? We should be counting down, or something--”

He gets another sweet kiss on the lips instead. Moments stretch before him. The concrete under him feels like the softest cloud as he allows himself to melt under his touch once again.

“It’s Tensei,” he breathes sensually into his ear. “And… honestly, I don’t care about the time, Koichi, just--”

There’s jovial shouting down at where the city square is, and more light and noise, far away from their rooftop.

“Yeah,” Koichi agrees with a smile. “Fuck that clock.”

They laugh like a couple of idiots, and kiss some more and damn, he could do with more of this in the coming years.

Soon, it’s January. The air is getting a little colder. They spend the rest of the first day of the new year in Koichi’s humble apartment, warmer than either of them could ever hope for.

#bnha fic #bnha vigilantes #tenkoi #koisei #haimawari koichi #iida tensei #koichi x tensei #new years kiss #let's celebrate everyone

[artdjgblog]

Innerview: Cathy Fishel / Print Magazine August 2005 Image:​ Print Magazine​ Note: Interview for the Print Regional Design Annual.

Introduction: Cathy…Sorry you missed me. Sorry to miss you. Thanks for the message (sorry it cut you off in the middle of your phone number). Things are a bit intense as summer brings a new definition of BUSY. Work. Work. Work. Many thanks for the kind words about my work and I. It means so much. Yeah, I am sure it is chore to sift through all of the junk I’ve been dumping on the PRINT headquarters every March for the past three years or so…(I feel like a true failure if I send less than fifty entries). It is funny because just last week I was thinking about the upcoming PRINT Regional Annual and how I had not heard back on if I was selected…and I guess I have been…how many? And what? I am very curious. I had pretty much written it off. Thanks for informing me…I suppose I was supposed to receive notice upon that a while back…what happened there? Same thing happened to me last year. Out of curiosity I called somebody at PRINT last year and sure enough they had contacted me at the wrong address or something like that…I hope that wasn’t the case again. We need to get that straightened out…indeed. Certainly, I am thrilled to participate in this little questionaire. Wow, i’ve always wanted to. You don’t have to worry about smearing my name from anything said. I don’t care. Here we go… ​​01) How has the pace of business/number of jobs been in the past year as compared to the previous year? The pace is as thick as I want it and when I have sleep to deprive. I’ve always held other jobs and currently work a massive sixty-two hour weekly schedule as a groundskeeper and a janitorial supervisor…thus, cramming design into my pockets…and whenever I can squeeze it in my free time or find it under the pillow in the wee morning. I never actively seek my work due to time constraints and exhaustion…not yet, at least…and besides, the majority is word of mouth. Most of the time I just make stuff. Some of the time I get a nice little call or email and then just make more stuff. 0​2) Why is it up or down? The numbers (ups/downs) are slim if you stack them to my three previous so-called “professional” years…of course it’s due to my lack of time…fatigue…getting older…and mostly because I don’t really have a definite connection with my clients like I used to…and I don’t live with bands, attend concerts or am around my clients as much as I used to…(in case you’re wondering, my primary source of work is in the local independent music industry). Also, I am not as twenty-four-seven-gung-holike I was when I first started. I’ve accomplished most everything I set out to do at this point…(perhapsI’m just settling and need to mark a new planner?). 0​3) Has there been any surprises in the past year? Good or bad? Surprises in my work and thoughts come quite often. Sometimes it’s mush. Sometimes they come as sneakeries. The only real surprises come when I get random calls/emails from kind Print editors, designers requesting copies of posters, people wanting to put me in their books, seeing my work in books/magazines next to my inspirations/peers…and recent college graduates persuing job opportunities with my bedroom design operation. It’s all good…never bad…well, the only bad thing would be that I have to shell out good money for the good books that I’m in. 0​4) Has there been an influx of a new sort of work or client in your office? In the design community as a whole? Honestly, the only new things I approach are the things that come with each new day and in thought. I try to treat each design day new. Nothing I do is new to the worlds, other than in my own. I do thumb magazines a bit and I am a bit of a junky with design/culture and such…and I do keep my eyes open at all times…though, sometimes too much of it can make me not like design or anything. It’s getting to be way over-impacted with the idea that everyone thinks themselves to be a designer. Most of the only new sort of work that really kicks me (or I even consider new) comes from scraps of paper I find and hand painted ghetto signage. Though, if we’re talking professional work, I guess there is some good stuff coming out of the local climate. And of course I guess there is always good stuff coming out of the woods everywhere. Others might lump me in there somewhere. I don’t really know or care. 0​5) What is the economic climate like there in general? I was bummed when Quik Trip ended their “Cheap Drink Summer” so soonly…however, I’ve always got the Hostess thrift store two blocks away. I always find free junk in the streets and at work in the trash…and I always find great deals on paper and “whatevers” at thrift stores. No matter if I don’t cash in on design…I’ve always got cheap fuel to burn…and I will always barter for goods and services…if the price is right/not right. 0​6) Have any large clients closed or left the area? Who? Most of the rock ‘n’ rollers are skinny little dudes and I’m the one that’s gaining the weight around my belt and portfolio pit. There have been a few bands that have broken apart and some that have decided to play musician-designer to save money. And combined roles like that don’t always produce wickedly pretty offspring. 0​7) Has there been any changes in the ways that clients do business with designers (good or bad)? Not really any changes in clients. People still owe me money. Most people still don’t want to pay much or even pay at all for design…though, they are eager to push the products I slap myself onto and I give them free press in books/magazines. Oh well, that’s part of the deal and I knew that from the get go. It’s more than thant anyway. And I still love them…I am sure they still love me…I just don’t make enough from it to eat. But, I do have some wonderful clients that I hope to cradle and/or have them cradle me for a long time…we’ll see. 0​8) Is the design community tight-knit? Competitive? Friendly? What? I don’t really associate with other designers due to a lack of time and sometimes, simply want. I do have a few I check in on…but mostly I stick to my own guns. Therefore, I constantly hope my cats and girlfriend understand what the heck I’m talking about. It’s mostly mumbles I’m trying to say though…at least I’m entertained. In terms of the local design community…well, I guess the art/design here in Kansas City is looking pretty good. Even though i’m only in my fourth year, through the visual clutter I can see a few improvements. From what I understand, there is a tight-knit community that I’m not really associated with physically. From the outside, the knit appears to be extremely tight though. These days I like to sit at home and hunch my shoulders…and I like to think and be around people/places/things that aren’t necessarily directly connected to the design world, but they are in my personal one (whatever that means). In competitive terms I guess I fell victim to that last December. One of the best things I’ve ever done was stolen at an exhibition. Poor Mortimer was an only child and I’ve nothing to document him. Either I’m getting somewhat popular or I have a backlash. I’m also getting tired of most of the announcement boards to post posters being smaller than one of my posters (time to break out my little hands). ​0​9) What exciting things are going on in the design community? Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. Well, I’m kind of excited to see where this city is headed to as a whole. There are a lot of expensive things being built…new downtown developments/arena…and a ridiculous addition to the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art that looks like a giant trash bin and/or trailer home. 10) What are you looking forward to in the next year? Any big changes? Anything that you hope will happen? Well, I am getting married this Fall and thus must condense my apartment. I must lovingly adapt to sharing my artifacts, junk, libraries, wall space and work space with a woman. I also plan to start sleeping on a real bed again…and to quit my night job. She is a good one though. 11.) Why is where you are a great place/lousy place to be a designer? Since I’m a one man show, I can take my design anywhere. Though, it helps to have an outlet to a music community…I guess…if I want to continue with that. I guess with this question, it’s mostly all behind the controller. You’ve really got to chop some trees down to be heard…or just put your head down, barrel through them and not really pay attention. And my real dream is to live in the woods outside of a small town near a big city and have the requests come to my porch via arrows…and to make things for myself. I’ve never been one to worry myself about if I’m in the right place or not. As long as my brain is not too sloshy and polluted, I will be fine. 12) What advantages does the midwest hold as a design source for clients? I was born and fed here. It is ok (at times a bit too honky and wonky). I’m happy with the way things have gone so far. I’ve got a meager following here that I suppose “gets it”…and the norm that says, “That’s different.” Though I haven’t really ventured off much in my design life, or simply, life in general. I hear it’s a mighty treat to get out. And I also hear good things about the midwest’s hospitality and friendliness from outsiders and/or people who get out. Perhaps I’ll pack it up one of these days and try some new turf to ooze between my toes. 13) What is the level of student/job applicant talent? Is young talent staying in the area or leaving? It’s really flattering, funny and somewhat depressing to me that I’ve received many offers from recent design graduates who desperately want to work for me. Some are really talented too…and I must paint my sad tale of no funds or time for me to even consider full-time employment with myself. Maybe I’ll just have them move in for therapy…or start my own school with fire poles to slide through the floors of my apartment building and heaping pile of posters to burn for warmth. -djg

#innerviews