#when I started this back in october (yeah...) I really needed to write something sentimental | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

possibilistfanfiction · 3 years

Note

Okay Elsa is annoying but … any Elsa thoughts on the future?

i also agree that elsa is annoying but u know shes a good mom honestly. also we all know casey is non binary in our hearts so. here's something i guess :) also on ao3

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the morning gates stay open (i’d be there)

i’m born to be somebody, then somebody comes from me i’ll tell you about the rabbit moon and when to keep walking

— clairo, ‘reaper’

you see izzie — and no one else — waiting for you when you head out of the terminal at lax.

‘hey elsa,’ she says, giving you a hug when you open your arms, even though you’re a little confused. ‘casey’s in the bathroom,’ she rushes to explain, rolling her eyes fondly. ‘they had like six la croixs today, even though i said it was a bad idea, and —‘

you don’t really process much else because then casey is barreling into you, even though ever facetime call has ended abruptly with an adamant refusal to return any sentiment about missing each other. ‘hey mom,’ casey says into your shoulder, and when you back up you have to smile at the sun-kissed freckles and cutoff shorts fraying at the hem, even though it’s february and snowing in connecticut. casey looks happy, and links hands with izzie, who tries to take your suitcase for you before you glare at casey, who sighs and takes it instead.

you’ve visited before; you helped both of them move into their dorms, and then you’d flown out with doug for a weekend in october. casey and izzie came home for thanksgiving and winter break, but you have some miles saved up now and casey hadn’t sounded too annoyed at the idea of you visiting for a few days to get out of the cold. they drop your things off at the hotel you booked near campus, and then izzie levels casey with a look and then says, ‘i have to meet with a group for a midterm presentation, but i’ll see you for dinner.’

you give her a hug and she kisses casey easily, quickly, and says, ‘i love you,’ far too seriously for an afternoon apart. you don’t know what’s going on but you think back to what izzie had said earlier — not about casey drinking too many la croixs; listening to rules has never been a strong suit, after all — but, you think, if you were listening, maybe izzie didn’t say her, which might mean—

‘let’s go to the palisades,’ casey says, then starts to ramble nervously about how they’re closer to the west side than laguna or manhattan but not as crowded as the pier, and who wants to be around that many tourists anyway, and there’s a little cafe if you wanted some snacks. you listen patiently and agree to any plans, because it’s a beautiful day and you don’t, actually, want to drive that much in la traffic or be by so many tourists. eventually casey runs out of things to say and turns on the radio to some music you don’t know but honestly don’t think is half bad. the windows are down and the sun is bright and you’ve been to pflag meetings in new haven for over a year now; you think you’ll knock it out of the park if casey tells you anything.

you do stop by the cafe, which is cute, and pick up a few snacks. casey had packed a big beach blanket, one you’d given as a joint gift to izzie and casey for christmas, which makes you smile. casey’s hands are shaking, a little, though, and so you don’t mention that it was, in fact, a great present that apparently they use all the time, according to izzie, who always politely and enthusiastically returns your texts and calls with all sorts of updates.

you sit down in the warm sand near the water and you know casey; sometimes, you just have to wait it out.

‘so.’

‘hmmm.’

casey fiddles with the edge of the blanket and then with some of the fruit you got at the cafe, before staring straight ahead at the waves. ‘i’m, uh. whew. well.’

you don’t laugh, will your body not to. instead, you squeeze casey’s hand, just once.

‘i’m just your kid, okay?’

you sit with that for a moment, try to process what you think casey is saying, but you don’t want to get anything wrong or jump to conclusions. ‘today, at the airport, izzie said they, when referring to you.’

casey sits for a second, shoulders tense all the way up toward the sky, and then says, ‘oh.’

‘i don’t think she was even thinking about it.’ casey nods. ‘but, is that what you’re talking about?’

casey sighs. ‘yeah. i guess. is that — is that okay?’

‘of course it’s okay,’ you say, because it definitely is okay, and also it’s not the most shocking news you’ve heard. casey hasn’t wanted anything to do with femininity, really, for as long as you can remember; you’ve grown used to, and proud, so often, of having a queer child — and another bonus queer child, too, which is what you consider izzie now, no matter what.

casey sniffles and then leans into your shoulder. ‘i know you’re, like, bursting with questions.’

you laugh, just a little, and feel a small smile against your skin. ‘not if you don’t want to answer them.’

‘depends on the questions.’

‘do you have any term you like, or any concept or something? i’ve been doing a lot of reading, and i’ve met a lot of other parents in pflag who have children who are also gender non-conforming, and—‘

‘whoa, slow your roll,’ casey says, but seems to deflate a little in relief. ‘non binary is fine, i guess. i’m just — not a girl. i’m just casey.’

that makes you smile. ‘your name is still casey, then?’

it produces an eye roll but then a begrudging, ‘it’s a good name. i like my name,’ so you’ll take it as a win.

‘i have great taste.’

‘ugh.’

‘you use they/them pronouns?’

‘yeah,’ casey says. ‘but, like, it’s okay if you don’t always get them right or whatever.’

‘no, it’s not,’ you say gently. ‘i’ll try really hard. i’ll get them right. it’s important.’

that produces a fresh round of tears that they try to dismiss by saying the sun is really bright and they have a hangover, which you know is false because casey had been asleep by 9 last night after an all-nighter and cross country the day before. but you let them have it, eat a few grapes and then toss one their way.

it elicits a reluctant laugh but it works all the same. ‘izzie corrects people all the time so she’ll love you more than she already does.’

‘i’m so glad you brought my favorite child into my life.’

‘wow, thanks elsa,’ casey deadpans, but then digs their hand into the sand and smiles. ‘izzie’s been so awesome, with all of this. i really love her.’

‘i know you do,’ you say with a smile, pat their hand.

‘and i’ll tell sam and dad eventually, but i want to tell them in person because sam won’t care, i’m sure, but dad is… you know.’

‘he loves you,’ you assure them. ‘i won’t say anything, of course.’

they look at you suspiciously.

you hold your hands up. ‘i swear i won’t. i know i love to meddle but i would never out you.’

casey sighs and nods. ‘i believe you,’ they say. ‘but, for the record, meddling is your most toxic trait.’

‘yeah, yeah.’

‘i don’t really want to talk about this anymore,’ they say quietly after a few moments. ‘it stresses me out, sometimes.’

‘okay. any time you want or need, though.’

they nod. ‘love you, mom.’

‘love you, casey.’

they pop up off the blanket, then, which whips sand into your face and all the food, and then take off toward the waves, laughing. you let them have a little space for a moment, watching your brave child chase off into the surf, fearless as always.

you take izzie to lunch the next day; casey has class during that time and you like to spend time with izzie anyway. she sits straight and proper but you see how she’s relaxed a little too, here, maybe getting to have a childhood for the first time ever. her hair is long and perpetually wavy from her runs by the ocean, and her eyes are bright.

‘thank you,’ she says, ‘for being so good with casey yesterday. they told me that you were awesome.’

‘casey, my child, said those words about me?’

izzie laughs, delicately takes a bite of her quinoa bowl, then shrugs. ‘not those words exactly. but they meant it. and they were so happy this morning, like a weight was lifted or something. i told them they didn’t need to be that anxious to tell you or anything but it’s been a process, you know. i think it’s been hard for a while.’

‘they like to let things stew, don’t they?’

izzie huffs. ‘it’s the worst.’

‘welcome to my world.’

‘casey is… quite the person, that’s for sure.’

‘thank you, too, izzie. for loving them so completely.’

izzie blushes, looks down at her hands. ‘impossible not to, i think.’

you think back to all the times casey has driven you up the wall over the years, the tantrums and fights, and then reach out to squeeze izzie’s hand. ‘impossible not to,’ you agree.

casey and izzie come home for spring break, and casey is pacing around and so you order food, send izzie to go get it, who thanks you quietly with a little squeeze to your shoulder.

you sit down on the couch and make sure that sam and doug are actually paying attention and then casey sighs.

‘is this an intervention?’ sam asks when casey doesn’t say anything. ‘i don’t know who it would be for.’

casey sighs again. ‘it’s not an intervention.’

‘okay,’ sam says, ‘good.’

casey tries to still their hands on their thighs and then says, ‘i’m not a girl. or a boy. or anything else, really, i guess. uh, if that makes sense.’

doug looks genuinely baffled but sam just nods.

‘there are many animals that don’t fit into a gender or sex binary. most commonly, it’s referred to as sequential hermaphroditism.’

casey nods contemplatively and your heart warms a little.

‘one of my friends is trans,’ he says, then takes out his notebook. ‘what are your name and pronouns?’

you can tell casey is trying not to cry, but they just clear their throat. ‘uh, casey, and they/them pronouns.’

sam writes something in his notebook and then nods. ‘got it. sibling? is that okay?’

casey is really trying not to cry now. ‘that’s great, sam.’

‘cool,’ he says. ‘is that all?’

‘oh, uh, yeah,’ casey says, ‘thanks, sam.’

‘sure, i’m just glad this wasn’t an intervention,’ he says, then stands and leaves the room without another word.

casey is smiling but then they turn to really look at doug, who has a furrowed brow.

‘i’m sorry, case,’ he says, which might not be the best start, but you’re fully prepared to jump in anytime they need. ‘i don’t — i don’t understand fully.’

he doesn’t sound angry, and he gets up to sit by them on the couch, squeezes their shoulder once.

‘i love you, though, and i guess, uh. you’re my kid. i just want you to be safe and happy. i’ll try to learn, okay?’

casey swallows once, and then again, and then hugs doug tight. ‘please never quote this, and only remember it for your sake and not mine, but mom knows a lot. she can definitely help explain stuff.’

you beam and doug nods. casey rolls their eyes.

’not now, though,’ they say. ‘izzie’s back with the food.’ they flash their phone. ‘she’s just been waiting outside until we were done talking. elsa, i see what you did there.’

‘you’re welcome.’

‘that pizza better not have pineapple or else i’m taking back everything i just said.’

‘extra pineapple, believe it or not.’

casey stomps off, and then makes a little noise of satisfaction from the kitchen when they discover that, in fact, you had actually ordered pepperoni. you hear izzie laugh.

‘so… we don’t have a daughter anymore?’ doug asks, quietly. ‘that’s not what i should call …’

‘them,’ you supply. ‘casey is our child,’ you say firmly, ‘they’re just casey.’

he takes a deep breath and then nods. ‘okay.’

‘we can practice. i’ve been practicing.’

doug looks relieved. ‘okay, good.’ he waits a beat and then laughs, just once. ‘you know, of all the things casey has ever come to us with, even though i don’t understand the details, really, this might be the one that makes the most sense.’

you smile, lace your fingers together. ‘i thought the same thing.’

when casey and izzie come home for a few weeks in the summer before preseason training begins, casey has a few more tattoos and a buzzcut and the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. izzie is in a crop top and long, flowing skirt and they’re both as enamored with each other as always, sweet and considerate and happy. you make peace with it all, because casey is kinder by the day, it seems, even to you.

zahid comes over one night and smiles and says, ‘sick shoes,’ to casey and leaves it at that, even though earlier you had told them that you thought they looked like geriatric shoes — not even in jest, you were worried about arch support or something — and izzie had laughed and casey had spluttered, ‘they’re jordans.’

it’s not hard to realize, as the weeks pass, that casey is better than they’d ever been; you’d read that a lot of trans and non binary teams have a really hard time during puberty, especially, and casey had been going through so much on top of trying to process this part of their identity. you fight the urge to wish you had known more then, even though they’re healthy and thriving now, it seems.

they get everyone to help organize a slip n slide in the backyard made with tarps and soap and water, and it’s genuinely hilarious when they set up an obstacle course. for two division i athletes, casey and izzie do terribly, falling all over each other and getting bubbles everywhere. you’re pretty sure casey is wearing a binder instead of a swimsuit or sports bra, and when they finally finish their ridiculous game, they lie back on the grass with izzie.

they’re both breathing hard and laughing periodically, not really talking. you bring them popsicles and it’s been a while since you’ve seen casey look this young.

things settle.

you miss your kids, of course, but they seem very genuinely happy. but one night in the fall, you’re just sitting down with a glass of nice merlot, ready to watch the newest episode of the bachelor even though casey relentlessly tells you it’s ‘misogynist garbage’ — which you know, obviously, but it’s mindless — when your phone rings.

it’s casey, and casey never really calls you for a good reason, and your heart jumps in your chest. you put down your wine and pause the tv.

‘case?’

you hear them sniffle on the other end of the line.

‘what’s wrong?’

your mind runs through a million different scenarios, each worse than the last.

‘izzie’s hurt,’ they say, finally, and casey has been known to be a little dramatic so you don’t know how hurt, or what you need to do.

‘what happened, honey? what do you need from me?’

’the trainers are taking her to the hospital for an mri right now but they think she tore her achilles in practice today. i don’t — she was running next to me, just intervals, and then i heard a pop and then she was screaming and — can you come? i’m sorry. they think she might need surgery, i guess, and, i just. please? can you come?’

you put down your wine and walk to your laptop. ‘i’ll look up flights right now, case. i’ll be there as soon as i can, okay?’

they let out what you can tell is a very relieved breath. ‘okay.’

‘i found one that can get me there tomorrow morning. i’ll find a hotel and keep you updated.’

‘mom,’ they say, ‘thank you.’

‘i love you, and i love izzie.’ it’s firm, but you mean it like that: there is no question; you will be there. ‘i’ll see you both soon.’

izzie does need surgery, you find out by the next morning when you uber from the airport to the hospital. casey is hunched over in a hoodie, trying to stay awake with a cup of coffee, but izzie smiles sleepily and happily when you come into the room quietly.

‘i’m high,’ she says, giggling a little.

casey rolls their eyes, clearly exhausted, but gets up to hug you tight. izzie squeezes your hand back when you kiss her cheek.

‘you didn’t need to come,’ she says suddenly, a little furrow to her brow.

‘of course i did.’

her lower lip starts to wobble and casey rolls their eyes but huffs a little laugh anyway. it’s an uncharacteristically chilly, rainy day outside and it’s surprisingly easy to convince casey to go back to the dorm to shower and nap for a few hours before they come back in the afternoon. izzie mostly sleeps, but you take careful notes when the surgeon comes to speak to you, because izzie really is out of it and, although they promise to come back and explain things later, you don’t want them to be missing any information. plus, they always process information better when it’s written down anyway.

izzie eventually gets discharged and has to come back a few days later for surgery. you have savings, so you’re lucky enough that you can stay for a bit. izzie is groggy but gets to have an outpatient procedure, and you help casey get her situated back in her dorm afterward. she has a big padded boot on her foot and ankle but you picked up pain medication for her and so she mostly sleeps. casey settles in next to izzie on the small bed and kisses her forehead, then looks at you, eyes big. their hair has grown out so that it falls floppily over their brows; it makes them look young and you have to fight to not want to kiss their forehead or hold their hand.

‘just — thank you, mom.’

you leave after a few days because izzie is doing better, taking just tylenol and very coherently getting around fine on crutches and so therefore casey has relaxed as well, their easy smiles back and their posture relaxed, slouched like normal.

they both come to see you off at the airport, casey doting carefully and izzie swatting away any attempts. you kiss izzie’s forehead and then do the same to casey, even though they fake gag.

within a few weeks, izzie is walking again, tenderly at first but then without any pause. casey actually gives you studious updates about her recovery; from what you can tell, they go to every physical therapy session they can possibly make it to. you know izzie has gone to therapy for years, now, and all of the drama from when she and casey first started dating seems to have faded into the background. but injuries are difficult, you think — scary and painful, especially because of what running has been to izzie. but eventually she sends you a selfie of the two of them by the beach, clearly having just run, with fly away hair and casey’s cheeks flushed red, huge smiles squinting into the sun.

a year passes, full of holidays and casey complaining about finals and izzie sending you pictures of pies she tries to bake in the tiny dorm kitchen. they run; sometimes when you’re pretty sure they’re a little high, casey will facetime you just to say hello. you and doug help them move into a small duplex together at the beginning of junior year, a bright sunny kitchen and the breeze from the ocean floating through the windows.

casey takes you to get coffee when they visit for thanksgiving — so you know something’s up, because they would never voluntarily spend time alone with you unless they really needed to talk — and when you sit down they smile at you, gently and openly, a rare occasion, and say, ‘i’m gonna have top surgery in the spring.’

you’re not surprised, and you’ve done casey’s laundry enough times when they’ve visited that you know they’ve been wearing a binder most days; you know they love being an athlete, and izzie has sent you enough articles about non-binary athletes in women’s leagues that you know casey has a place in sport.

that this surgery is happening, though, is a little different. you feel scared, because casey is your child, but mostly you feel excited for them. relieved for them.

‘that’s so wonderful, casey,’ you say, and they blink just once and then a grin lights up their face.

they tell you about their surgeon, and the type of surgery they’re going to have, how izzie has gone with them but how, they admit, they would love if you facetimed in for their next pre-op appointment in a few months.

‘can you help me explain it to dad? sam and i already talked, to be honest, because he asked me. which is, like, inappropriate from anyone else, but he’s sam, so it was mostly just so he could research statistics and stuff.’

you laugh, squeeze their hand. ‘i’ll help, absolutely.’

you go out to la a few months after casey’s surgery with doug and sam; everything had gone well and casey had cried in joy and relief when they’d seen their chest afterward for the first time, which had set izzie off, which had set you off too. you’re pretty sure doug had even sniffled.

when you’d left, though, they still had bandages and bruising but now it’s almost the beginning of their senior year and when you go to the beach they take their shirt off and then shove sam into the sand with a laugh. sam grumbles but gets up to dust himself off, izzie rolling her eyes as she helps you set out the blanket.

casey races off into the surf, turning back and yelling at all of you to come join them. you always have; you do.

#fic #atypical #cassie x izzie #cazzie

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incorrectbandofbrothersquotes · 3 years

Text

You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 3

The Wildest Times of the World

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.9k

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @iilovemusic12us @hesbuckcompton-baby @tvserie-s-world @whovian45810 If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Sorry this update took so long! But I hope y’all enjoy it :)

Warning(s): none :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

AO3 link

Chapter 3 let’s go!

Three chilly October days after Ron’s abrupt departure from London - which Juliet was still seething about - she arrived home from the store to a different person she expected to never hear from again. Lottie stood at the front door, muttering to herself about whether or not to knock. Juliet was especially surprised because it was raining, which would have normally kept the editor indoors if she could help it. Juliet watched a moment, not wanting to give away her presence immediately. It satisfied her to watch Lottie fret like this. After a few moments, Juliet caved and cleared her throat.

Lottie gasped as she whipped around, clutching at her chest. “Heaven's sake, Juliet! How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long,” Juliet said, intentionally vague. “Can I help you, Lottie?”

“Well…” Lottie hesitated, shifting her weight and toying with the fingertips of her gloves. “Shall we go in? I really need to speak to you.”

Juliet decided not to comment on Lottie’s self-invite into the house. She figured with no other job openings popping up, this could be her opportunity to try and gain back some favor at the London Pursuit. She couldn’t imagine that Lottie was here for a personal reason. That was not the sort of manager she was.

Once inside, Lottie followed Juliet to the kitchen - again, kindly not saying anything about the state of the house. Juliet set her grocery bags on the table before taking her coat off. Lottie shrugged hers off as well, removed her hat and gloves, and took a seat.

“Cuppa?” Juliet offered.

“Sure,” Lottie replied.

Juliet put the kettle on. Then she started unloading the bags.

“So, what did you want to speak to me about?” she asked, trying to sound as casual as she could.

“It’s the Albourne story,” Lottie said, voice tight, almost like she was spitting the words out. “All the other reporters are too busy to cover it. And if I have to go through the process of hiring someone new, we won’t get it in time.”

“I’ve already told you, I think it’s -”

“You needn’t remind me of your insolent remarks,” she snapped.

Juliet sighed, picked up a can of beans and placed it slowly in the cupboard, forming as polite a response as she could muster. But Lottie beat her to the next word.

“If you agree to cover this story, I’ll let you cover the war down there,” she said.

Juliet almost slammed the cupboard door shut in surprise. “What?”

“You can cover the war news from there,” Lottie repeated.

“Do you know something the rest of us don’t?” Juliet returned. “Because if you know the Germans are in Aldbourne and you haven’t said anything until now, you might be in trouble, Lottie.”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean, Juliet. The Americans are there, you could write about them.”

Juliet bit back the snappy retort she had about that, and dialed it down. “Fascinating as the Yanks are, I reckon they’re not doing much actual fighting in Aldbourne. Unless you mean brawling in pubs.”

The English had almost adjusted to the American presence by now. However, Juliet had slipped out of more than one pub after a fight broke out between some bright-eyed, blue-blooded American who spoke too boldly about their importance in the war effort and an Englishman who naturally took offense to the effort of “our own lads” being minimized. It escalated. Drinks were thrown, followed shortly by fists. Others jumped in to either assist or attempt to separate the combatting parties, only to get swept up in the action either way. It was entertaining, sure, but Juliet thought it made rather a mockery of the term “Allies.”

“They’re doing something there,” Lottie insisted. “And I give you full permission to try and find out what. As long as you cover the story about the girl as well.”

“Observing Americans isn’t really covering the war, and you know it, Lottie,” Juliet said.

“I’m not sending a woman to the front line, there would be a mob at the office door,” Lottie said. “I personally don’t care if you want to go and get yourself shot, but your blood cannot be on my hands.”

Juliet had to concede that point. Other papers had already suffered the ramifications of sending women reporters even within the vicinity of the front. There were boycotts led by counter-feminist groups and concerned mothers about the message it sent about women’s roles. It was one thing for women to work while men fought the war, but to put them in the line of fire? That was just indecent.

“Well, good to know my life isn’t as much of your concern as public opinion,” Juliet joked.

Lottie frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Relax, Lottie, I’m taking the piss,” Juliet returned with a wave of her hand.

She paused, mulling over the offer Lottie was bringing. She wasn’t in much of a position to refuse work, but the idea of covering that gruesome story was almost too much to bear. Even if she was a bit interested in what the Americans were doing. Then, something else crossed her mind.

“Why do you want this covered so badly?” she asked.

Lottie’s face flushed and her mouth drew tight, which Juliet understood to mean the reason would not be to her liking. She braced herself.

“A family friend is with the Wiltshire police,” Lottie admitted. “He thinks it would look good for the department to solve a case like this and put the murderer away. And to have the press cover it, especially a London paper with circulation throughout the country.”

Juliet couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “You’re killing me, Lottie.”

“This is the deal I’m offering,” Lottie sighed. “I know you’re opposed to it, but this is the compromise I’m willing to make.”

Juliet considered her options. She did need the money. But the subject matter and the reasoning were so against her ideals and ethics as a journalist. How could she live with herself if she broke them for money? But there was her mother to consider as well. Which brought up another objection.

“Even if I wanted to,” she said. “I can’t. It leaves no one here to look after Mum.”

“I thought you had a brother,” Lottie returned.

“He lives on Guernsey,” Juliet reminded her, minding her tone so she wouldn’t sound too bitter. “Otherwise, I’m certain he’d be here.”

Lottie shifted uncomfortably. “I apologize. I forgot.”

“S’fine,” Juliet replied.

“Can’t you hire someone to look after your mother?” Lottie asked.

Juliet only raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her - as if to say, “you’ve seen the house, you think we can afford help?” Lottie understood the implication.

“What if…” Lottie trailed off, considering. “What if I hired someone to look after her?”

Juliet blinked. “That’s...generous of you, Lottie, but I’d never be able to pay you back or -”

“Don’t worry about that,” Lottie said. “I want this story and - believe it or not - I want it done well. I know you’ll handle it as tastefully as possible and you could really show that -”

She was cut off by the kettle screeching its completion to boil, so Juliet went to take it off the burner and fetch some tea cups. She poured the tea and served it, and Lottie thanked her quietly, almost abashed by her admission to decency. But there was something more.

“Really show what?” Juliet pressed.

Lottie heaved a defeated sigh. Like admitting this was something that exasperated her. “That women can handle tough topics. It’s not covering the war, but it’s a step in that direction.”

Juliet couldn’t help but agree. If women could handle murder and the investigation surrounding it, surely women could be seen as sensible enough to tackle tragedy on a larger scale. They weren’t going to faint at the sight of blood or burst into tears over sentimentality. She couldn’t help herself. Juliet wanted to be part of that narrative.

“Lottie, I’m surprised at you,” she teased. “I didn’t take you for such a feminist.”

Lottie’s jaw dropped and she gaped at Juliet, totally affronted at the suggestion. “I am no such thing!”

Juliet shrugged, unfazed. “Yeah, I probably wouldn’t be either if I had your tits.”

Lottie could only sputter in response and Juliet snickered before sipping her tea.

“Juliet!” Lottie scolded.

“I’ll do it,” Juliet said suddenly.

Lottie closed her mouth, stunned. “You’ll - you’ll do the story?”

“Yes,” Juliet assured her, smiling. “You’ve given me a real reason to. And if there’s someone here to look after Mum and I can get a bit of war news as well, then what choice do I have but to say yes? You drive a hard bargain, Lottie.”

Lottie’s relief was palpable. “Thank you, Juliet. Really.”

“When do I go?” Juliet asked.

“There’s a train to Aldbourne tomorrow morning at nine,” Lottie said.

“I’ll be on it.”

***

Aldbourne was probably a village that once called itself sleepy. But now it was overrun by Americans - mostly paratroopers - which created an upheaval the likes of which many residents had never seen before. There was life in the town. The Women’s Land Army, or “land girls” as they were called, were taking full advantage of the flirting opportunities that arose with these American men, who lacked British decorum and were therefore prime targets for a fling. As Juliet walked from the station to her lodgings, with all the people mulling through the heart of the village, she found it almost hard to believe she was there to report on a murder.

Lodgings were difficult to come by with the Americans billeted in just about any space they could fit. Even horses were having to share their stables. But Lottie pulled some strings and got Juliet a room above the Blue Boar, a pub. She wasn’t sure how much sleep she’d really be able to get with the noise of a pub below her, but she didn’t dare complain. Not when she was one step closer to getting what she wanted.

The owner was a portly, older gentleman by the name of Jacob Powell. His kind, round face welcomed Juliet warmly, and she was grateful for the reception. She didn’t want to infringe too much on his hospitality, so she refused a cup of tea for the moment, insisting she needed to get unpacked and to the police station as soon as possible.

“Oh, yeah, that's a gruesome business about the little girl,” Jacob said. “Are you really going to write a story about it?”

“I’m no Agatha Christie or anything, but I’m going to do my best,” she returned, keeping her tone light. She wasn’t in the habit of discussing a story with just anyone.

He shook his head. “It’s just a right shame.”

“Concisely put, Mr. Powell,” she replied. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Right, sorry,” he said bashfully, and he reminded her that the offer for tea still stood if she changed her mind before closing the door behind him.

First, Juliet set down her suitcase with her clothes. Second, she heaved her typewriter onto the desk in the corner of the room. It was beside the one window that looked out onto the street. Juliet approved of the set up since she liked natural light while she wrote. She got her things exactly where she wanted them, but hadn’t bothered to remove her hat and coat since she was going right back out. Securing her notebook, pen, and room key, she left.

The police station was one of the dullest she’d ever seen. Given the nature of the town, it didn’t surprise her. Lottie’s contact was Otis Allen, a lieutenant in the Wiltshire Police, who was still in Aldbourne to lead the investigation. He was a tall, thin man, with kind blue eyes and straw-like blonde hair. Rather unimposing for being in law enforcement. But Juliet observed right away the misshapen mound where his right ear should have been. He mentioned it before she had the opportunity to ask.

“Sorry about the grisly ear,” he said. “My gift from the Germans last time they had a go at us.”

“A bit rude,” she teased. “Flowers would have suited just fine, I think.”

He chuckled at that as he gestured for her to take a seat across from him at his desk. With that, she noticed a gnarled hand - the few fingers he had left were permanently curled under themselves. He disguised it fairly well with a glove, but she saw anyway.

“Those Jerries really overdid it on the gifts,” she remarked. “I bet it wasn’t even your birthday.”

He fully laughed at that and she noticed his expression softened. When they’d met, he’d been a bit rigid, but his muscles relaxed now, put at ease by her gentle humor.

“Thanks for that,” he said.

She cocked her head to the side. “For what?”

“For the jokes,” he answered. “Ever since that war, all I get are pitying looks or fear. Thanks for treating it like it’s...normal.”

“I’ll leave pity to the nurses,” she said with a smile. “Now, what have you got so far on the case?”

He went over the basics with her. In September, a six-year-old girl, Peggy Lee, was drowned in the tub, allegedly by her host, Meredith Fisher. Peggy had been with the Fisher’s since January with no reported issues. When Peggy did not arrive for school the next day, her teacher phoned the Fisher’s home with no answer. They chalked it up to Peggy being ill or some other explainable matter, and moved on. When she was absent the following day as well, they called again, and Meredith told them that yes, Peggy was ill, and could not come to school for a few days. Ashley Fisher, Meredith’s husband, was in London on business at the time, and when he returned at the end of the week, found Peggy’s body and called the police. Meredith claimed initially there was an accident, but evidence from Peggy’s autopsy proved foul play was involved. Juliet took fervent notes as Otis explained it all, trying not to get disgusted by the whole thing.

“Where is Mrs. Fisher being held now?” Juliet asked. “Surely not here in Aldbourne.”

“‘Course not, she’s in Trowbridge,” Otis assured her. “Mr. Fisher is here though, if you’d like to speak to him.”

She blinked. “Is he an expert on the case or something?”

“Well, no -”

“Then what insight could he possibly give me?”

“He’s a witness,” he reminded her.

“Investigators and lawyers question witnesses,” she said. “I need facts from experts to put the story into context. His testimony would only sway readers' emotions, and that’s not what I’m after.”

He smiled. “Well. You’re not like any reporter I’ve ever met.”

“I should hope not,” she returned. “I’m not covering this for the sensation. Why do you think I haven’t asked you where the Lee family is?”

His eyebrows went up a ways on his forehead. “You’re not going to interview them at all?”

She shook her head. “Nope. An interview with them is even less useful than an interview with Mr. Fisher. They weren’t even witnesses.”

His eyes sparkled as he looked at her. “Right. Emotional appeal instead of factual.”

“Exactly,” she said. “And besides, I’m sure the last thing they need right now is some reporter sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I like you, Miss Fletcher,” he said simply. “You’ve got...surprising respect for this. And a good head on your shoulders.”

Juliet forced a smile to swallow her question if he’d be surprised by her if she were a man. She didn’t know where her control came from during interviews, but she was grateful for it.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said. “Lottie told me the goal was to get this story widely circulated, and I truly believe that’s possible with the facts alone. I don’t believe in patronizing the audience to get their attention.”

“You’ve got more faith in people than I do,” he scoffed. “But I like your style. I look forward to working with you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” she returned. She did like Otis, even if he had briefly underestimated her. “Tomorrow I’ll be able to meet with the doctor who conducted the autopsy, yes?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “The prosecution is having a psychiatrist evaluate Mrs. Fisher this week, so I’ll keep you updated on that as well.”

“I’d love an interview with the prosecutor too, if that’s possible,” she said.

“I’ll speak to him about it,” he told her. “Have a good evening, Miss Fletcher.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

They shook hands before she parted. She made her way back to the Blue Boar, dodging GIs all along the way. They were winding down for the day, it seemed, going for runs, dates, or drinks, depending on their mood. She got a whistle or two, which she ignored, mentally going over her notes. She was also relieved she wasn’t going to have to fight Otis on how to do the story. She really was getting free reign on how to put this all together, and she was excited by the opportunities that meant for her.

Her excitement was sucked away when she reached the Blue Boar and found her things had been hurled onto the street. Her mouth fell open. She had only just arrived, what on earth could she have done?

She marched toward the door, straightening up to her full height, prepared to demand an answer from Jacob. But she didn’t have to go far, he met her at the doorway, blocking her entrance with a glower on his face that could have melted snow.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” she demanded.

“I don’t want any of your sort staying in my establishment!” he shot back. “Did you think you could fool me?! I read the papers!”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” she returned. “What papers?!”

He pulled a rolled up newspaper out of his back pocket and threw it at her. She caught it and opened it with a snap. She recognized it as a society gossip periodical that she usually tried to avoid. On the side of the page, she read the headline “ARTHUR BURNS’ EX-FIANCE TURNS LADY OF THE EVENING?” with a photo of her leaving the hotel she’d met Ron in, looking furious as she absolutely was that day. Her heart dropped as she read the copy beneath.

Desperate times must truly call for desperate measures, it began. Juliet Fletcher, 31, who just earlier this year was scorned by Arthur Burns when he terminated their engagement, was spotted leaving a hotel after a rendezvous with a mysterious American. The receptionist, who wished to remain anonymous, said Fletcher returned the following day, found the Yank gone, and stormed out, seething.

‘It was clearly a dispute over money,’ the receptionist said. ‘They left the hotel together early in the morning, and she came back in the evening after he’d checked out. She was so sneaky about what she needed, I knew it couldn’t be anything respectable. And then to be as furious as she was about his leaving, it was obviously about an unpaid sum.’

Could it be that Miss Fletcher has fallen into disgrace after Mr. Burns left her? Could it be that she needed additional income after becoming accustomed to the Burns lifestyle? What else could possibly drive her to stoop to such lows?

The Burns family refused to comment for this story, and Miss Fletcher herself appears to be out of town at the moment. And who can blame her?

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” she cried. “It isn’t true!”

“Pictures don’t lie, missy,” Jacob practically spat. “Now clear off from my property or I’ll have the police on you!”

A small crowd had gathered to watch the confrontation unfold. Doubtless, the raised voices had drawn attention to them, but Juliet could not bring herself to care. The injustice of it made her blood boil. She squared her shoulders and planted her feet.

“It’s not true, you idiot!” she shouted. “This paper is known for misrepresenting the people they write about!”

“I said - CLEAR OFF, YOU!” he roared.

She scowled at him as fiercely as she could manage, but he slammed the door in her face. Head held high, she went and snatched her things off the ground, slinging them onto her shoulders before facing him again.

“THIS ISN’T OVER!” she hollered back. When she turned on her heel and saw the Aldbourne residents watching with avid interest, she snapped at them too. “Should we have sold tickets?! Mind your business, people!”

Properly scolded, they scattered like roaches. Juliet heaved a sigh, wondering where to point her feet. Fuming, she considered parking herself outside the door and shouting until Jacob had no choice but to hear her out, but she couldn’t risk arrest. Not when she was relying on the police as sources for her story.

Her thoughts were completely interrupted when a platoon of paratroopers jogged across the square from where she stood. Leading them was the man Juliet held solely responsible for all her troubles as of late - Ron Speirs. She told herself not to get distracted by the sweat on his brow or the way his backside looked in the little shorts he had on, and focus on what mattered. He was getting away with what had happened - or rather not happened - while she was publicly shamed. Abandoning her bags, she hurtled after the platoon, catching up with surprising speed in her heels.

“HEY!” she bellowed.

The whole platoon stuttered in their cadence, and the few in the back turned their heads at the sound of her voice. Ron either didn’t hear her, or ignored her, and she wasn’t sure which was more infuriating. She gained on them. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to get louder, absolutely refusing to be ignored.

“RONALD SPEIRS!” she yelled.

He called his men to a halt, stopping alongside them and turning to face her. He blinked in surprise at the sight of her - he had evidently not expected her here - but he didn’t say anything right away. She caught her breath as she marched up to him. This time, she was ready, wallet in her coat pocket. She whipped it out and brandished it like a sword.

“No one pays me a kindness and gets away with it!” she shouted, popping the wallet open and fishing out the bills she owed him. “That,” she slapped the first few onto his chest, and he caught them before they fluttered to the ground. “Is for my half of the hotel room!” She did not acknowledge the snickers that went through the platoon, and then forced a second handful of money into his hand. “And that is for the potatoes and cab fare!”

He looked levelly at her. “I really didn’t expect to be -”

“I don’t care what you expected!” she continued. “You left me to look like a prize idiot!”

He glanced at his platoon, who were murmuring to each other as speculation began about how their lieutenant knew this strange woman.

“I’d rather have this conversation in private if it’s all the same to you,” he said.

“It’s not all the same to me, you punk!” She accentuated this with a shove to his arm. He didn’t move, but it made her feel better. “You humiliated me in front of the stupid hotel girl, which has now resulted in me losing my lodgings, so yeah, I’m going to stand here and embarrass you in front of your little mates!”

“Juliet -”

“How dare you leave before I could pay you back!” she went on fiercely. “You said you’d be there! You lied right to my face! Like a - a - a liar!”

“Eloquently said,” he returned.

“I don’t need your wise-ass remarks!”

“Settle down.”

“I WILL NOT SETTLE DOWN!”

Her face was red with how much yelling she’d been doing, so she took a deep breath to collect herself. She felt a tingle in her throat, so she tried to clear it.

“I’m going to, though,” she said. “Not because you told me to, but because my voice is getting hoarse.”

He stared at her for a beat. “Okay. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“The receptionist at the hotel in London spoke to a gossip columnist about seeing us together,” she said. “Now, the owner of the Blue Boar says he won’t have one of ‘my sort’ in his rooms.”

“I see,” he said with a nod. “I’ll sort it out.”

“No, I can’t owe you another favor,” she returned.

“So you just came over here to yell at me?” he asked, to clarify.

“And pay you back!” she insisted. “Now that’s been accomplished, we can part ways and I’ll never speak to you again. Starting now.”

“Juliet -”

“Starting now!”

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed away. He watched her go for a moment, enjoying the way her skirt swished around her legs, the shape of which he enjoyed more than he cared to admit. Shaking his head to clear it, he faced his men again. He noticed the stifled laughter behind their hands and smirks on their faces.

“Something funny?” he snapped with a scowl.

They straightened up and muttered quick “no, sir”s under his glare.

“Good, we’ve got a run to finish,” he said.

They continued down the road. But Ron knew just what he was going to do afterward.

***

Night fell over Aldbourne like a frigid shadow. Juliet, with aching feet and chattering teeth, took shelter in a phone booth across from the Blue Boar, having scoured the village for anywhere else to stay to no avail. And she was not a moment too soon in closing the booth door. Just seconds after she did, a soft rain began to patter against it.

She needed to call Lottie and see what her options were. She couldn’t stay in Aldbourne without a room, but that put everything on hold. She pushed the coins into the slot and called Lottie at home, adding guilt to her weariness.

“Hello?” came Lottie’s voice after just two rings, which relieved Juliet a little since it meant she was not in bed already.

“Lottie, it’s Juliet,” Juliet said. “Look, something’s happened and your friend Jacob’s given me the boot.”

“What?” Lottie questioned. “Why?”

“Some stupid fucking article accusing me of being a prostitute,” Juliet snapped.

“There’s no need for that kind of language,” Lottie replied coolly.

Juliet hesitated a beat. “Okay, given the nature of what I said, I’m not sure if you’re referring to ‘fuck’ or ‘prostitute.’”

“Both,” Lottie said, and before Juliet could protest, she went on. “Tell me what you’re talking about.”

Juliet explained everything - that her arrival went fine, but at some point during her interview with Otis, Jacob had read that article about the hotel nonsense, and had refused to let her back inside.

“Now I’m stuck in a phone booth,” she finished.

A beat passed and Juliet feared for a fleeting second that her time had run out. She dug in her pocket for more coins, but Lottie spoke again.

“So...what were you doing in a hotel room with an American?” she asked.

“That’s your takeaway from everything I just said?!” Juliet cried, incredulous. “Lottie, I’m exhausted and freezing, I need a place to stay or a ticket home!”

“Was it something indecent?” Lottie pressed.

“No!” Juliet returned. “Look, I got drunk, I almost got hurt, and he just looked after me for the night, but nothing happened, I swear. Believe me, he’s the last man on Earth I’d ever want to shag, even if he is ridiculously good loo-”

She stopped suddenly and whipped around when she heard a knock on the door. There he stood. Ronald Speirs, looking expectantly at her.

“Son of a BITCH!” she swore, stamping her foot.

“I beg your pardon!” Lottie gasped.

“Must go, Lottie, my mystery American has returned,” Juliet said through clenched teeth. “Aldbourne’s about to have another murder on its hands.”

She hung up harshly, slamming the phone down before Lottie could protest. Then she wrenched the door and faced him, eyes blazing. She opened her mouth, preparing to dismiss him completely, but he beat her to the punch.

“Jacob changed his mind,” he said. “You can have your room back.”

She deflated and blinked at him in surprise. “I said I didn’t want -”

“Do you want a bed for the night or not?” he cut across her.

Her drained muscles screamed at her to agree, but her pride was stronger. She started to refuse him again.

“Buy me a drink, and we’ll call it even,” he said, as if reading her mind.

“That’s not really the same,” she argued.

“I didn’t go out of my way,” he told her. “The Blue Boar is where the officers drink. It came up, I explained, simple as that.”

“Okay, one drink.” She held his gaze. “And then we’ll never speak again.”

He looked into her eyes, so long and so intensely, in any other context she would have thought he might kiss her. But he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t do anything. He just shrugged, turned, and walked back toward the pub. She didn’t totally blame him since the rain was beginning to come down harder. With a defeated sigh, she scrambled to collect her things and followed him.

#band of brothers #ron speirs #juliet fletcher #ron speirs x ofc #hbo war #you better you better you bet series #hbo war fic #band of brothers fic

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vxlkyrie · 4 years

Text

through my lens

pairing: spencer reid x reader

genre: fluff (god so much fluff), friends to lovers!au

warning: mentions of alcohol, cursing

word count: 4.8k

summary: spencer comes up with the best birthday gift a girl could ask for – along with the best confession

a/n: hey y’all, it’s been a hot minute. i apologize for going m.i.a. for a bit and only reblogging fics and gifsets. i’ve been trying to give myself a little break from writing after finishing my classes for the semester, and then i found myself having writer’s block. but now i’ve found the motivation to write again! i’ve gotten into criminal minds during this quarantine, and became whipped for reid. so why not start writing for him? hopefully i can write more for him. and with that said, i hope you guys enjoy this fluff-filled oneshot!

everyone in the bau had their hobbies. spencer loves to read, penelope knits, hotch golfs on weekends – just to name a few.

when you weren’t creating profiles and catching unsubs, you were roaming around d.c. taking photos of literally everything. a rose bush, your lunch at the cafe down the street from your apartment, the beautiful cotton candy sunset. you were seen always taking a picture, whether it was with a dslr, a polaroid, or simply your phone. you also took pictures of the bau team whenever you all decide to hang out.

a night at the club? pictures of emily, jj, and penelope drunk off their asses while grinding on each other.

dinner after successfully closing a case? pictures of derek and spencer having a mini food fight and hotch trying to stop them.

christmas sleepover at rossi’s mansion? pictures of rossi cooking and the ladies making cookies.

jj’s wedding? pictures of the blushing bride and groom and everyone slow dancing with each other (until derek pulled your camera out of your hand and forced you to dance with everyone).

let’s just say you have a wall filled with polaroids of your second family.

photography has been a passion of yours for the longest time. although, when you first started in the bau, you felt like a burden you stated taking pictures of the team in their happiest moments. but over the years, everyone assured you that it was fine and even encouraged you to continue, which made your heart flutter.

but what made your heart flutter even more is when a certain doctor asks you for tips on how to get into photography.

“hey y/n!” a male voice greeted you while you were working on paperwork. you snapped your head up to see spencer giving you a small smile as he leaned on your desk.

you became close with the doctor shortly after you joined the unit. probably because you two were around the same age, but also probably because of the similar interests you two had.

he would come over to your apartment frequently for movie nights and whenever he just wanted to unwind after a case and didn’t feel like going back to his place.

the first time he slept over, you had to apologize for the lack of literature books on your shelves that were filled with scrapbooks instead. he told you it was no problem and found himself getting lost in one of your scrapbooks.

“no way! is that y/n in high school?” he practically squealed.

“what?!” your eyes widened as you ran towards spencer and attempted to get the embarrassing scrapbook out of his hand, only for him to lift it high into the air and out of your reach.

“why didn’t you tell me you wore glasses? you looked so cute!” he laughed as he looked up at the scrapbook that he held above his head.

“i looked horrible! give it back!” you whined.

“only if you can reach it.” he smirked.

“fuck you. you just had to be 6′1.” you pouted as the doctor continued to go through the rest of your scrapbooks (he especially enjoyed going through the scrapbook that was filled with pictures of the team).

and even though you complained the entire time he went through your collection, you couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach as your feelings for spencer grew.

“what’s up, doc?” you beamed back.

“nothing much. i just wanted to ask you something.” he said as he fumbled with his hands.

“yeah, what is it?” you asked politely.

“i-i want to learn more about photography, and i was hoping you could help me?” he answered softly as a tint of pink spread across his cheeks

god help me, he’s so cute.

“yeah of course!” you chuckled. spencer’s eyes lit up with joy as he smiled wider. “what do you need help with?”

“well, the basics, and what kind of camera to use. although, i’ve heard digital cameras have been getting more expensive these days. maybe it’s because more people are getting into photography. i’ve seen a lot of websites that garcia showed me where people are starting photography businesses and i- i’m rambling again, aren’t i?” spencer scratched the back of his neck.

you weren’t one to cut spencer off while he’s talking. mostly because he looked so attractive while doing it, and it still baffles you how that’s possible.

“it’s fine spence,” you softly smile at him, which caused his heart to speed up a little. “and honestly, using your phone is a great start into learning basic photography.”

“really?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“yeah, give me your phone,” you asked, holding out your hand. he pulled it out and handed it to you. “i know you’re like a technophobe, but this little guy is pretty useful, especially when it comes to photography.” you explained as you opened the camera app, showing him the different features on it. “now here’s a grid. ever heard of rule of thirds?”

spencer shooked his head, which surprised you.

“oh really? well basically...” you started to speak.

spencer started zoning out. he already knew what the rule was, but he just wanted an excuse to stare at you.

the resident genius has been in love with you ever since you joined the unit. and his feelings grew even more after finding out you both have a love for halloween and science fiction. but of course, he never acted on it. the poor boy was already shy enough, and after being rejected several times, he especially doesn’t want to ruin his friendship with you.

oh y/n, if only you knew...

“so overall, it’s a great way to line up your photos,” you finished explaining, turning your head to see spencer spacing out. “you okay spencer?” you waved a hand over his face.

“w-what? oh yeah, i’m fine. rule of thirds is my best friend when taking pictures. got it.” he blinked, making you chuckle.

“hey pretty boy, we’re being summoned by garcia.” a deep voice said as a hand slapped over spencer’s shoulder.

“hi derek!” you smiled.

“hey sugar,” he winked. “come on reid, let’s go.” derek turned to spencer. spencer nodded at the older man and started to walk.

“thanks again y/n!” he yelled over his shoulder.

“of course! if you need anything, just let me know!” you yelled back as you continued working on your paperwork.

“anything?” derek whispered, teasing spencer as they made their way to penelope’s office.

“stop. she was just teaching me some stuff about photography.”

“you are such a sucker for her. just tell her you like her already. we all know you both are in love with each other.” derek rolled his eyes.

“she’s not in love with me.”

“you have an iq of 187 and for what? you don’t have to be a genius to know that she feels the same way.” derek said as he opened the door.

“ah my lovelies are here!” penelope said as she hugged derek and spencer.

“what’s up baby girl?” the formal asked.

“i’ve already told emily, jj, hotch, and rossi this, but i am planning a surprise birthday party for y/n at rossi’s place!” she clapped joyfully.

“isn’t her birthday like a month away?” spencer raised an eyebrow.

“i don’t even think she remembers that her birthday’s coming up soon.” derek added.

“which makes this even easier,” penelope smiled. “the week of her birthday, we will be going over to rossi’s house after work and we will help decorate. the night of the party, spencer, you will be driving her to rossi’s. just say that we’re all meeting up to go to a club or something.” she quickly said.

“i guess that’s possible.” the younger boy slowly nodded.

“are you sure she isn’t gonna be suspicious that reid’s willing to go to a club?” derek asked.

“hey!”

“he’s a genius, he’ll come up with some excuse,” penelope said. “okay great. let’s go team! now get out please.”

spencer slowly walked down the hall that lead back to the bullpen.

what am i gonna get her this year? i already got her the whole star wars saga collection. this gift has to be more sentimental.

he bit his lip in deep thought.

then suddenly, a light bulb flickered on above his head.

that’s it!

a month passes by quickly when you're working on cases mostly every day.

there were a few times where you would have the day off or at least the night off after a long day at work. you spent those times with the bau, whether it was having a night in with the girls, checking out the costume stores with spencer (who cares if it’s nowhere near october?), or even a spontaneous night out at the karaoke bar.

the rest of the team have managed to sneak around during the week of your birthday, gathering party decorations and gifts, making sure everything is set up correctly before the big day.

spencer worked very hard on his gift for you, adding the finishing touches as he stored it in a closet that was filled with the rest of the team’s gifts.

set up for y/n’s birthday party – check.

and in a blink of an eye, it was your birthday and the night of party. the team was flying back from a case that took several days, and you want nothing more than to knock out on your bed.

“the night is still young! let’s all go out!” emily exclaimed as you all gathered your belongings in the bullpen. derek nodded his head in agreement, catching on to emily’s little scheme.

“hell yeah, i’m in!” jj responded. “how about you, y/n?”

“i don’t know guys, i’m pretty tired.” you yawned.

“come on y/n, you have to come with us.” emily pouted.

“what’s happening?” penelope walked in.

“we’re gonna hit the clubs, you in?”

“definitely. spence, you coming?” penelope looked at him as if she had telepathically sent him a message. spencer widened his eyes.

“u-uh, yeah. i’m in.” he gave a small smile.

“look y/n, even reid’s coming! you love clubbing with us. it’s gonna be a great time!” jj said as she held your arms. you sighed.

“fine. i’ll meet you guys in like two hours, okay?”

the ladies cheered in victory.

“perfect! let’s pregame at rossi’s and then we’ll all go together.” emily said.

“great! spencer, do you mind driving me to my apartment?” you said as you turned towards him. he shook his head in response and you both headed towards the parking lot.

get y/n to come over to rossi’s – check.

after you got ready, spencer drove to rossi’s mansion as you sang to throwbacks.

he changed into a simple black dress shirt and jeans (and of course, his converse) while you wore a black off-the-shoulder mini dress and heels. your makeup was flawless as well as your curled hair.

spencer couldn’t help but think you looked beautiful in this moment, and can’t wait for the surprise he and the team had in store for you.

soon, you two were parked in rossi’s huge driveway.

“she’s here!” spencer texted penelope as soon as he put the car in park. he ran over to your side of the car and opened the door for you.

“what a gentleman! thank you, kind sir.” you smiled and reach out for spencer’s hand as he helped you out of your seat. you two walked to the front door to see rossi standing with a huge grin on his face.

“hey rossi!” you greeted while hugging him. he grabbed your hand and opened the door and slowly let you in, with spencer trailing not too far behind. “where is everyone?” you asked as he led you to the dark living room.

“surprise!” many voices shouted. your eyes widened as the lights turned on, only to see your closest friends and everyone from the bau and their families smiling at you. even the kids were there.

there were balloons that floated onto the ceiling. foil curtains that filled up rossi’s wall (he wasn’t a big fan of it, but he was willing to hang it up because it was all for you). tables filled with drinks, food, and gifts. and don’t forget the banner that hung across the threshold leading to the backyard that read ‘happy birthday y/n!’

you felt yourself tearing up.

“oh my god!” you patted around your eye area. “i love you all, but goddamnit you almost made me ruin my mascara!” you yelled jokingly, earning laughs from everyone (even hotch).

“happy birthday!” rossi said as he hugged you and kissed your cheeks. everyone gathered around you to hug you, take pictures with you, and say their happy birthday’s.

“happy birthday, sugar.” derek hugged you.

“i honestly forgot that it was today.” you laughed as he joined you.

even spencer gave you a bear hug and a kiss on the forehead, which made your face heat up.

“happy birthday y/n.” he smiled at you.

you were in euphoria as the party went on. you were dancing with your best friends and the bau ladies (and derek) as music blasted throughout the backyard. everyone was occupied, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves, even spencer, who was having a beer while conversing with hotch.

“so when are you gonna tell y/n you like her?” he asked spencer who was looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world. spencer turned his head towards his boss.

“soon.” he smiled, sounding very determined.

“as much as i love seeing you guys dance your asses off, it’s time for the birthday girl to blow out her candles.” rossi announced.

everyone gathered around the table as you walked towards the table, seeing a beautifully decorated cake with lit candles placed in front of you. they all sang happy birthday (with hotch recording everything), making you smile from ear to ear while trying not to tear up again. soon, you blew out your candles, followed by cheers. rossi helped cut the cake and distributed it to everyone.

“as soon as everyone gets their slice, please go to the living room so y/n can open her gifts!” he shouted. everyone obeyed and started to walked back inside. spencer’s eyes widened.

shit.

“you okay, kid?” derek asked, approaching spencer.

“uh, yeah?” he answered, clearing his throat as an attempt to try to hide his panicked expression.

“what’s got you nervous?”

“i-i didn’t know she was gonna open her gifts in front of everyone.” spencer practically whispered.

“why? what’d you get her?” derek smirked.

“i guess you’ll see.” spencer sighed.

everyone sat in the living room, facing you as you opened your gifts. every time you opened one, your heart melts even more.

when you opened rossi’s gift, you thought you were gonna pass out.

“rossi, i cannot take this!” you exclaimed as you held a box that contained a new camera. “this must’ve costed you a fortune!” you tried to give rossi the box, but he simply shook his head.

“you’re like a daughter to me, y/n. of course i had to spoil my child!” he said as everyone laughed around him.

“i can assure you buying that camera certainly did not put a dent in his bank account.” emily quipped. you thanked rossi with a hug and continued to open more gifts in your seat between spencer and emily.

you were curious when you lifted a slightly heavy bag from hotch. you gasped as soon as you looked inside to see a brand new laptop sitting inside.

“hotch, you shouldn’t have!”

“i know you recently broke your laptop, so i figured why not save you the trouble of getting one. you also deserve it after being such a great addition to the team.” he said, giving you a small smile as you hugged him.

emily bought you a ton of polaroid film and sd cards, as well as a bottle of wine – the key to a girl’s heart.

“these are exactly what i needed, thank you babe.” you kissed her cheek.

jj and will bought you a vinyl player along with a few vinyls from your favorite artists. they also added a few drawings of you that henry made that had ‘auntie y/n’ written on all of them.

“i am definitely putting these on my fridge.” you said as you lightly ruffled the little guy’s hair.

derek got you a pair of headphones (from the same brand as his) so you didn’t have to borrow his during the plane ride home.

“now we can both listen to our own music with our own headphones.” he teased, hugging you as you chuckled.

penelope’s gift had you screaming. you opened the box and moved the tissue paper to see a whole lingerie set laid out. spencer’s eyes widened as derek whistled, while hotch and rossi where trying not to laugh their asses off. jj immediately placed her hands over henry’s eyes.

“how did you get my size right?!”

“i have my ways.” she winked at you.

you had one more gift to open – spencer’s gift.

“you don’t have to open mine.” spencer whispered to you. you raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“why not? i opened everyone’s.”

“it’s not as good as everyone else’s.”

“spence, it doesn’t matter how expensive a gift is. you could literally give me a fake plant and i will love it until the day that i die.” you smiled at him, causing his face to slightly heat up.

“well, prepare to be disappointed because i definitely did not get you a fake plant.” he said. you scoffed.

“come on spence, how bad could it be?” you said as you pulled out an object from the gift bag. you curiously looked at it.

is it a book?

“what is it?” you asked spencer.

“well, o-open it.” spencer shyly said.

you turn the cover to see a collage of pictures. it was a small scrapbook. you examined the pictures only to realize they were picture of you. you started blushing as you flipped through the pages and recalled where several of the pictures have been taken. you didn’t even realize spencer was taking pictures of you half of the time.

you were having a sleepover with the girls, drinking and crying over captain america. you heard a knock on the door.

“must be the pizza guy, i’ll get it!” you stood up. you opened the door to see spencer standing there.

“hey y/n! ready to watch the new season of doctor who?” he clenched his messenger bag in excitement as he entered your apartment, shocked to see his coworkers sitting on the couch while the tv played.

“that was tonight? oh spencer, i’m so sorry. i completely forgot.” you said, feeling guilty.

“oh, that’s fine. we can always watch doctor who another time.” he reassured.

“how about you join us spencer?” penelope chirped in.

“i don’t want to intrude on your sleepover.” spencer shook his hands in front of him.

“yeah, come join us! you’re already here, and i think you left some of your pajamas somewhere.” you raised your eyebrows at him with a pleading smile on your face.

how could he resist when you’re looking at him like that?

“fine.” he gave in as the girls cheered.

as soon as he knew it, he was listening in on the gossip as the girls did each other’s nails. you laughed as you smeared a green substance on your face.

“what’s that on your face y/n?” spencer asked, earning a few giggles from emily and jj.

“it’s a facial, spence. it’s good for your skin. you want to try it?” you asked as you held out the container towards him. he nodded. “you want me to put it on for you?” he nodded again.

spencer tried his hardest not to blush while your fingers brushed against his face. he could smell the faint scent of mint from the facial along with the lavender from your shampoo.

“okay, and we’re done. wait for half an hour and then wash it off.” you said as you both took a seat on your couch.

once you started paying attention to the movie, spencer stole glances in your direction, watching you react to the movie. he couldn’t help but pull out his phone and snapped a picture of you (thank god his phone was on silent).

he smiled to himself one more time before putting his focus back onto the movie.

“spencer, what are we doing here? it’s july!” you said as you two entered the costume shop.

“it’s never too early to plan your halloween costume, y/n.” he laughed as you looked at the masks that hung from the wall. he busied himself, browsing through different costumes.

should i be frankenstein? maybe i should go for steampunk this year?

“check this out spence!” your muffled voice caught his attention. he looked to see you dancing around while wearing one of the masks.

spencer laughed at you while you continued to dance in the middle of the aisle. he took out his phone and took a photo of you, not caring that your arms turned out blurry while you were flailing your arms around.

“that was fun,” you took off the masks. “anyways, what kind of costume are you going for this year?” you asked as your ran your fingers through your hair, trying to fix it.

spencer was too busy looking at you.

“spencer?” you said with confusion. “spence?”

he slightly shook his head.

fuck, she caught me staring.

“what? oh, i don’t know yet. how about you?” he asked back.

“hmmm, i’m not sure either. i might just play it safe and be a devil or something.” you said as you tried on headbands that had plastic horns glued onto them. you looked at the section next to the devil costumes and saw a bunch of angel costumes. you took one of the halos and placed it on spencer’s head, practically jumping to get it on him. “maybe you should be an angel this year.”

“you think so? why?” he asked, suddenly feeling shy.

“well, maybe cuz you are one?” you grinned.

spencer’s heart raced for hours afterwards.

“happy birthday to you! happy birthday to you! happy birthday dear emily! happy birthday to you!” the whole team sang as they raised their glasses to the girl of the hour. you couldn’t help but take pictures of everyone as they downed their drinks and hugged emily.

after the team found out it was the brunette’s birthday, you all collectively decided to spend the rest of the evening renting out a room at the karaoke bar to celebrate.

“thank you guys! i fucking love all of you!” emily yelled. you could tell she was tipsy. “now someone put something on, i want to get drunk and sing until my vocal chords explode!”

“well, actually, your vocal chords-” spencer started.

“shh, not right now spence. someone give me a microphone.” emily bit back. you patted your hand on spencer’s back.

after a few rounds of singing from everyone, you decided to do a number with the rest of the girls. you were in the zone, belting out notes you never thought you could do. but with a little bit of liquid courage, you channeled your inner whitney houston as you all sang ‘i wanna dance with somebody.’

hotch was recording (as always) as rossi and derek cheered you all on.

“let’s go baby girl!”

spencer was clapping along, watching you have the time of your life. he had the biggest smile on his face as he took pictures of you singing. he knew that he had it bad for you once you started dancing. but when he didn’t see coming was when you placed your hand on his and pulled him up to his feet.

“dance with me spencer!” you giggled as you whipped your head side to side. you definitely had too much to drink.

“come on pretty boy!” derek hollered. spencer started to pick up the rhythm and moved with you and the girls. the rest of the guys soon joined in and started dancing.

at times like this, spencer is grateful that he chose not to stay in.

as you flipped through the rest of the pages, you felt a few tears started to form in your eyes. you skimmed through the rest of the pictures.

some of them were pictures of you sleeping. on the jet, on the couch in your pajamas during a movie marathon, on rossi’s bed in one of the guest rooms after having one too many glasses of wine.

some of them had spencer in it. once you taught him what selfies were, he took one with you every time the team flew out of state, or even if you two were just getting coffee before work.

there were some where you weren’t even paying attention and spencer was closer to the camera and made it look like he was squeezing your small head.

and there were even a few where you had your hand close to the camera. they were pictures of you when spencer would catch you off-guard. they weren’t the best pictures, but it felt right for him to print them out.

“spence, what are you doing?” you asked as you tried to push his phone away from your face.

“i’m just taking a picture of you!” he giggled.

“why? i look ugly!” you whined.

“no you don’t!” he blurted out as you playfully shoved his phone towards him as he continued taking pictures of you.

“sometimes, i really do hate you.” you joked, ignoring the fact that he said he doesn’t think you’re ugly.

you laughed at the pictures as your heart picked up its pace. aww’s were coming from everyone, making spencer blush an even deeper pink. you got to last page of the scrapbook. instead of seeing a page full of pictures, you saw a familiar handwriting that filled the page.

is this a letter?

“what does it say?” one of your friends asked.

you looked at spencer for permission to read it out loud. he hesitantly nodded. by the looks of it, everyone already knew why he made you a scrapbook, might as well go all the way.

you took a deep breath and started reading.

for the part-time photographer, full-time badass profiler:

dear y/n,

you have been a light in everyone’s life, especially mine. you brought happiness to a team during their darkest times, and you have always been there for me during mine.

to the girl who is always seen taking pictures of everyone around her, you deserve to be photographed.

through your lenses, i am one of the many people that fill up your scrapbooks and walls, but through my lens, you are the most beautiful person my camera has ever captured (and even then, these pictures don’t do you justice).

you are the kindest, brightest, and most breathtaking person i’ve ever met, and i am so lucky to have fallen in love with you.

happy birthday!

love, spencer.

you didn’t even notice the small pool of tears that sat over the letter. thank god the pages were protected. even penelope, emily, and jj were crying.

“oh, spencer.” you sighed as you pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug. he immediately hugged you back, placing his face in the crook of your neck. you pulled away to look at him.

“did you like it?” he whispered as he wiped away the stray tears on your face.

you smiled at him and leaned towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his lips. he smiled as he kissed you back. loud cheers and applauds can be heard from around the room, but the only things you can hear are yours and spencer’s beating hearts.

“my man!” derek yelled. everyone pulled out their phones to capture this sweet moment.

you both pulled away from each other, not being able to wipe the stupid smiles off your faces.

“i’m guessing you liked it.” spencer quipped, making you laugh.

“i love it. and i love you too.” you grinned.

spencer pulled you in for another kiss, until you hear several clicks. you turned to see everyone with their phones pointed at you two. you hid your face in his neck in embarrassment, spencer laughing as he held you.

“this is definitely going in the scrapbook.” he chuckled.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n

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wannawritefast · 3 years

Text

Whiplash: Chapter 1- Playing Defense

A/N: Hey, y’all. I know the prologue didn’t get a whole lot of attention but I’ve written a substantial amount for this and I am VERY proud of how much I’ve written and what I’ve written. Also, huge shoutout to @andtheswordwentsnickersnack for beta reading this beast of a fic that I’ve been working on for WAYYYY too long LMAO...

Pairing: BoRhap!Brian May x fem!Reader

Prologue

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, awful men, sexism

You loved your family. Really, you did.

But there were times, and many times they were, that you would have been more comfortable ripping your own hair out strand-by-strand than having to sit through another session of verbal abuse.

You weren’t entirely certain what you had done, if anything, to deserve such discrimination from your grandfather, father, and brother amongst a few cousins and uncles. It was like 3 generations of men in your family had decided to use you as a verbal punching bag.

You still vividly remembered the time you had told them that you didn’t particularly appreciate how they talked to you. They laughed right in your face and told you to grow a thicker skin. That Y/l/n’s were a tougher breed than most and that if you couldn’t handle it then maybe you weren’t of their blood.

October break wasn’t any different. Your family had met up for your annual dinner together aside from Christmas.

“And what about you? When are you going to settle down, Y/n?” your grandfather quipped after shoveling a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “I want some great-grandbabies!”

Before you could even open your mouth in response your brother, James, chimed in. “I wouldn’t count on anyone banging her anytime soon.”

“Well,” you chuckled, “would you look at who’s talking?” James grumbled to himself and threw a pea at you which you successfully evaded. You turned your head to address your grandfather. “And I’m not your only grandchild. You have a grandson too, you know.”

You nodded toward your brother and your grandfather hardly even blinked at the last sentence. He either didn’t hear you or didn’t care. Proof that he used any and every opportunity to undermine you. Your grandfather scoffed and mumbled to himself gruffly.

You practically heard your father’s eye roll. “Your career is only so fulfilling.”

“Dad, I’m an astrophysicist and a damn good one, I’d like to think. If my career wasn’t fulfilling enough, I’d be seriously questioning all of the time and money I spent at university writing my thesis and graduating top 5 in my year.” You took a bite out of your roll. Why did you have to defend yourself every time you came home? It was exhausting!

“I’m just saying that you aren’t fully happy until you’ve settled down.”You rolled your eyes at your father. You didn’t have the time to focus on your love life. You barely had time to do your studies as it was. Furthermore, no man you had met seemed to like you after finding out you were an astrophysicist. Nobody seemed to click with you well.

“Why do I need more than my career to be fulfilled in life?” You asked seriously.The whole table laughed at your question. Even the kiddie table laughed but it was just hive mind reflex. You certainly did want to get married and have a family someday but you were making a point to your father. Who was he to dictate what made you happy?

“Please, Y/n,” James piped up again, “that’s what lonely people say to feel better about themselves.”

Ouch. That one stung more than you should have let it. You took a drink to keep yourself from letting a tear roll.

“Who ever said that she’s single?” Your sister spoke suddenly. You coughed and sputtered on your drink. Your neck turned to Donna so swiftly that you probably could have snapped it.

“Are you implying that my eldest daughter is dating a boy,” your mother raised her brows at you conspiratorially, “and didn’t tell me? Is it that smart, goofy boy you fancied at university for the longest time?” She couldn’t seem to keep a grin from spreading across her face.You flushed red at her question. Nobody needed to know that. Except now they did because you were, apparently, no longer single. Everybody at the table locked their eyes on you, muttering to each other. You looked at your sister in panic.

“Go on,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before bringing her cup to her lips. “Tell them about your boyfriend.”

Gee thanks… She had just started digging you into a hole.“Wait just a second! Let’s rewind a moment.” James questioned incredulously. “My sister, the stick in the mud astrophysicist, has a boyfriend? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?”

“It’s not relevant who I may or-” you looked at your sister pointedly; she fiddled with her fork “-may not be dating.” The fact that James wasn’t buying it was making you quite nervous. You were more offended though than anything. “Is it really so hard to believe that I’d be dating someone?”

“Yes!”

“Believe it, James” Donna insisted, pointing her fork at him. Put down your damn shovel!

“Have you banged him?” Your brother asked in the silence.

You picked up your drink and splashed him in the face. Your mother softly scolded you for your actions but you were completely unapologetic for what James more than deserved. How you shared the same DNA with such a tool was beyond you…

“That is hardly your business,” you snipped. You turned and stared down Donna. You were going to have to tell them the truth…

“Ok, that’s quite enough,” your mother stopped everything. Oh, thank the Lord. “We’re here to talk about your sister not her boyfriend.” Thank you, mother. “She’ll just have to bring him over for Christmas!”

You stood up from your chair and it scraped along the floor. What had you done…“That’s ridiculous! What if he wants us to spend time with his family for Christmas?” Why were you even going along with this? Why were you defending your hypothetical boyfriend?

“Then you can split the time between the two!”

“What if he doesn’t want to meet you guys yet?” You suggested. This hole is getting awfully big, Y/n. “Meeting parents is a big deal!” The statement came out as more of a question than a defense. You were honestly hoping for one, just one, objection to stick. “I don’t want to scare him off.”

“Who wouldn’t want to meet us?” Your mother asked. You resisted the urge to answer the question.

“Well, what if we’re not even together anymore by that time?”

“Wow, you really can’t hold onto a man for that long, Y/n? It seems to me like you would have been making this whole thing up if you are ‘broken up’ by then.” James finished wiping his face with a napkin after his encounter with your drink. You locked eyes with him. He was onto you.

“I’m not making this up,” you lied. Apparently you hadn’t put down your shovel yet either.“Then bring him home for Christmas,” James challenged. “Otherwise we’ll know it's a lie.”

Your family was on the edge of their seats and, for the time being, the logistics of the challenge didn’t matter. You were fed up with your brother constantly tearing you down. You were tired of your father not being pleased with anything you did. And you were exhausted by your grandfather’s insistence that you were nothing more than a source for great-grandkids. You got no respect at work and you certainly didn’t get any damn respect at home.

And so you did it. You extended your arm toward your stupid brother’s stupid hand and grasped it firmly with a shake.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, brother dearest.”

[{...}]

Eventually the extended family left and you went to your sister’s bedroom since you were sharing the room and the bed for break.

“Why in the bloody hell would you do something like that?!” You lowered your voice so that your family, more specifically James, wouldn’t hear you. Your sister sat on the bed cross-legged, fiddling with the ends of her hair.

“I’m sorry!” Donna yelled. You shushed her as you brushed your hair. “I couldn’t just watch. James crossed a line with that comment. I just wanted to wipe that stupid smile off of his dumb face.”

“Watch your language, why don’t you?” You teased. She rolled her eyes at you. “But I was fine, honestly. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be!” You hissed at Donna to be quiet again. “It was nice for them to shut up for a few moments and see you as a normal human being.”

Your heart was warm but you were in a state of complete panic. “That’s such a sweet sentiment in such a terrible circumstance!” You dug your fingers into your temples and threw yourself onto the bed. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just go up to a guy and say ‘I need you to be my fake boyfriend because my sister dug me into a bloody hole’! You know I can barely get guys to talk to me on a casual basis!” Your voice dropped in volume, no louder than a whisper. “What makes you think that I can get one to play my boyfriend?” You let out a frustrated sigh.

“I honestly did not foresee the consequences of my actions and I am very sorry.”

“Do you think?” You growled to yourself. “Bloody hell… what am I going to do?”

Your sister scratched the back of her neck. “I mean, you have time… It is only October…”

“But I’m going to have to find someone eventually… if I find one.” You gnawed on a fingernail.

“You’ll be fine!” Donna breathed. She curled herself into the blankets next to you. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Yeah…,” you inhaled deeply, “and I’ve got time…”

#borhap fanfic #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody fanfic #bohemian rhapsody fandom #brian may x reader #gwilym!brian #gwilym!brian x reader #gwilym lee!brian may #gwylim lee!brian may x reader #slow burn #fem!reader #reader insert #friends to lovers #friends to lovers AU #fake dating!au #borhap #fluff #fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody fanfiction

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ayzashl · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Crack (i think)

Also um, im new to these so sorry for possible gramatical errors or typos (i dont double check bc I literally was bored doing this and just, decided to share it on tumblr lmao)

Disclaimer, I made this out of boredom because I was thinking about exams and stuff and was wondering about how my husbando would react about my situation, having placed on high ranks barely putting efforts towards studying lmao (Not rlly bragging im sorry if it came out as bragging :((, i jusy rlly be curious and hopefully I portrayed it like how I expected for him to react, sorry im new to writing bc I mainly draw🌚👉👈)

***

It was already sunset. The hues of yellow, orange and red envelops the dorms of U.A high school, its gradient tinting the windows of the students occupying the rooms shine bright, displaying its vibrant colors on the inside of each dorms facing the sunset.

You, who were sitting on your knees, switching positions time to time, searching for a particular pose to get comfortable while drawing on your boyfriend's kotatsu in his dorm, door leading into the balcony open, making the cold breeze of late October allow itself to enter the room.

Autumn has already arrived, and that also means midterm exams. It had just finished today. After a almost whole month of preparing for the exams, and the 3 days of taking it, the students of 1-A was relieved and relaxing in their rooms as the days of hardhips were finally over, plus its a Friday so the students were scattered on each others dorms due to the upcoming weekend.

You were taking a sip of your juicebox, almost emptying it now out of frustration for having a hard time drawing a hand. In your opinion, the struggle was equal or actually a lot harder than your midterms. Art frustrates you a lot and your boyfriend wonders why you still do it, yet never really ask you since he can also tell you're really passionate about it than your other hobbies.

He was sitting on his futon, leaning againts the wall as he stare at your back figure, watching you scribble something on your sketchpad and aggressively erasing it afterwards, making the papers crumble into the direction on where you rub it, making you groan in annoyance even more.

As he observes your actions, a thought runs up his mind, asking himself the same particular questions over and over again.

"Why?"

He asks himself. Why were you putting most of your effort into this drawing? Why were you more irritated in this than the midterm exams?

"Just..... why?"

Shoto had noticed you since the start of your so-called-library-dates, although its mostly just you accompanying him to gather resources for the upcoming exams while you just scan your notes or draw, or read a completely different book whose topic is not related to your exams.

Its always been like that everyday, he never really saw you offer a lot of your energy in terms of studying, like most of the students does, as he noticed the library being almost full as soon as October started.

He saw you scan your notes time to time, yes. But full on concentration on studies? no, never seen you. The most of what he saw were you fixate immensely on your math notebook before exams started, and that was it.

The exams ended abruptly on the second day but there was extra curricular on the Hero's Course on the third day before their final grade were posted. And yes, both of you did well. After the announcement, Shoto (and you) were shocked to find out that you were in 6th place and he placed in 5th. You both exchanged congratulations, you mostly squealing out of joy to actually achieve this particular rank.

Shoto on the other hand was, doubting?. Of course he feels happy for you, but at the back of his mind, he was a little agitated. You both got the exam results at the end of the third day and to his surprise (and also yours, but internally) your scores were high, almost having the amount of same mistakes as him, except your math which you devastatingly, almost failed (lmao), which merely affected your overall result since your scores were high anyways.

Your boyfriend wasnt the type to get irritated over these things, heck yeah he feels ecstatic over your accomplishment, signal the kiss he gave you on your forehead plus the soft look he gave you with a slight smile displayed on his face. But there was a faint thought of doubt running through the back of his head, how did you get such results when you were barely even studying? There was no way you would cheat right? He didnt want to accept it, he didnt want to doubt you, but it was the one of the highest possibilities that was mostly that likely happened, as he could think of right now.

He couldnt let go of this thought unless he confronts you about it right now, so he decided to ask you, waiting for a few moments, observing you, waiting for you to calm down a little from your work.

"Y/n...."

"Hmm?" you hum, not turning yout back at him, eyes and most of your attention fixated on the paper.

"How did you manage to get a high rank even though I barely saw you studying?" he finally asks, hoping you wont get offended by it, but this thought had been bothering him a little, and he wouldnt be satisfied until he gets his answer, as the stubborn man that he is.

"Are you doubting me?" you say in an offended tone, although you meant it sarcastically, turning your back, giving Shoto your full attention now as you crawl towards him, pencil dropping in the background as you make your way towards your boyfriend, offering him to lay down as you pat his futon. He complies so, already knowing you wanted to cuddle whenever you do that certain action.

You cuddle next to him, facing him as you give him a smile to reassure him that you werent offended by him back then. "Did you notice that in class, I always, almost bury my head on my notebook, writing on it almost 24/7 whenever lecture starts?" you ask him, as you start to fidget his hair on the sides which you and him really enjoy, making its way up to his bangs, and back and fort.

"You were.... writing?" Shoto asks, raising an eyebrow with the same stoic face who seemed not to show a lot of emotions, a little dumbfounded. "I thought you were doodling". You burst out in laughter from the small misunderstanding of your boyfriend.

"Of course I was. You see, whatever the teacher blurts about that sounds important to me, I write it down because, you know, its usually what appears in exams" you explain to him, closing your eyes time to time as if you were a philosopher, passionately explaining your beliefs, only with an added self-sense of humor. As he was on the other had was, fascinated.

I mean, who knew?

"Also just to clarify things, I do put some extra effort on, some of my studies"

"By some you mean just the science topic you reported you keep rereading everyday"

"......yes"

Shoto lighlty chuckles as he moves your head to his chest, placing an arm on your head, planting a kiss on your forehead, as a sign of affection like he always does. He feels a little guilty, assuming you were cheating but in the end, you were just and always has been the genius that you were. Heck if you actually put a lot of effort in your study, you might actually come out at the top in the class, but he's aware you have other things to focus and worry about as his eyes gaze at the table with a slightly crumpled juice box standing out.

"Were you mad?" you ask, out of curiousity. You had assumed he was maybe upset about the results because he gets a little too competitive or has the sentiment that he has to prove that he only isnt good with his powers, but in academics as well, considering his situation.

He lightly shook his head as he fully encloses you to his grasp, leg placed on your sides, locking you in as he settles his face on your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your lavender shampoo in which he always adores.

You on the other hand, was relieved now that the matter was somehow resolved? Putting those thoughts at the back of your head, your perception of relief was shortly replaced by a wave of worry as you lightly chuckle of uneasiness.

"Shoto?" you tap his sides, body tightly secured onto his. This was the one that made worry. His hands tightly clutching you, but not too much, leg on your sides, locking you in so that you wont get away easily, to him it made him feel happy, knowing that you werent going away and draw for a while. You've had situations like these already and all you ever do is give up and shower him with affection, already knowing he was slightly, probably getting a little touch starved, craving for your attention and affection. But in your situation right now, it was, unpleasant, so to say.

Not after you just finished your juicebox.

-Disclaimer, uh, I made this from

He hums in response, head tilted a little more into your head's direction. He was sure you would have given up already, knowing that he will never let you go.

"I need to pee"

"..."

"Shoto..."

"........"

"Sho"

"All I can say is good luck getting out"

"......"

"Noooooooohohohoooo!!!" you exclaim, with a sarcastic crying in your tone. This was gonna be one hell of a struggle.

Im bad at explaining things, hope you did enjoy reading this as much as I did though :))

#shoto todoroki x reader #shoto torodoki #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #shoto x you #todoroki x reader #todoroki imagine #one shot #bnha oneshot #bnha crack #bnha fanfic

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madibyrd · 3 years

Photo

TASK #001: THE LAST NORMAL DAY • broken promises

Flight 441 disappeared on October 16th, Friday, but Madi hasn’t heard about it until the following day, well into Saturday. She got home around 6:30am after finishing a 24 hours shift, remembered to send her sister a message that she wouldn’t be able to make it later to their house to lunch, apologizing for it profoundly, and then knocked out and slept a good twelve hours because she was exhausted. It was a long, hard shift, one of the roughest she’s had in months, constant calls through both the day and night with barely a moment to rest, and she needed to refuel herself.

She woke up to an empty house - Talia was off on some conference being awesome -, and a whole bunch of angry messages from her sister along with several missed calls. She wasn’t in the mood to argue with Liz, but she also knew the more she pushed off the call, the angrier her sister would get, so she let out a long breathe, headed to the kitchen to make herself a coffee and called her sister.

“You promised, Madison, you promised you’d come over for lunch and try out Jake’s soup, he was so excited for you to try it.” No hello, no greeting, and Liz even called her Madison. She really was pissed. She turned on the coffee maker to do its magic and then moved to the living room to turn on the news.

“I promised I would try, Liz, that is what I promised. If my shift went okay and I could get some sleep. I didn’t get any, I literally just woke up.”

“You could have set an alarm.”

“And be a useless sack of potatoes when I go over? You know how I am when I don’t get a proper amount of sleep. It was a really hard shift, Liz, I swear, there were several pretty brutal accidents that we were called to, one of them had a whole family... anyway, aside from those, there were two fires as well and two freaking prank calls that lead to nowhere just us in gear going to the furthest of our district when we could have used that time at least to rest. And this was just the night of the shift, don’t even get me started on the rest of the 24 hours. if I could have, I would have made it over there.”

There was a long pause from the other end of the phone.

“No sleep at all?”

“None until I got home,” Madi promised.

A sigh. “Okay, maybe I forgive you, but you’ll still have to make amends with Jake. Starting with trying out his soup. And groveling a little.”

“Give him the phone and I’ll start, but that kid loves me way too much to need that much groveling.” Which really only made it worse, but she even told Liz not to promise anything to her nephew, so if she said anything more than a really weak maybe, it was on her, as far as Madi was concerned. Not that it would stop her from apologizing to Jake, but still.

“He’s out in the garden playing with...” Liz jumped into a long explanation about what Madi’s nephew was doing, but Madi was not listening to any of it, because when she looked up at the tv, all she saw was the flashing headline - “Tragic plane crash - plane still nowhere found”. She quickly turned the volume on and tried to listen, but with Liz in her ears, it wasn’t the easiest of moments. “Liz, sorry to cut you off, but... what is this plane thing they are talking about on the news?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear before? A plane full of people was heading to LA from... not really sure where, some European city, and then it just vanished. Nobody knows what happened or what happened to them, but they didn’t arrive in LA. Everyone’s freaking out.”

“Yeah, I can imagine...”

Madi got her coffee and chatted a little bit longer with her sister, but she wasn’t really there in the head, she kept losing focus to watching the news and trying to figure out what more there is to know about this accident. She didn’t know anyone on the flight, she knew that - Talia would only be flying back home the next day and nobody else she knew or were close to were planning flying anywhere anytime soon - but still, it wouldn’t leave her mind. To the point where after a couple of hours (which included trying to distract herself and talking to her nephew, promising him that she would try his soup soon), she reached for her phone to text her coworker about the flight, that turned into a phone call that turned into the two of them googling if there were any need for volunteers to go and help with the search.

They found a phone number, they called it, and in less than an hour they were already set to fly to LA, from where the boat they would be on would leave. Their boss wasn’t happy about the development, but he also understood the sentiment, and it wasn’t the first time one of his firefighters went off to volunteer somewhere else. They would make it it work.

The harder conversation for Madi was her family - her parents already didn’t like that her profession included running into burning buildings and risking her own life. They’ve accepted it at this point with grumbles and occasional suggestions to other jobs (her mom’s pitches really were ridiculous, “I’ve heard tv reporters got hundreds of thousands of dollars yearly. Madi, my dear, you love talking, don’t you think that would be a fine job for you?”), but they didn’t like the idea of Madi putting herself in other type of danger, even though Madi insisted she wouldn’t actually be in danger. She would be on a boat, she wouldn’t do the actual dive work, she’d just help out whenever she could (technically she didn’t know what her job would be, but if she said that, her parents would imagine her dangling feets above the water on a hook without any safety, and nobody wanted that). They ended the call on “let’s talk about this more tomorrow” and Madi told them she’d call them from LA. They were not happy about it at all.

Her sister was... both more and less understanding. She was mostly annoyed she’d have to tell a 9 years old her auntie would have to disappear for a while and no, he wouldn’t be able to come over or play with her. And then turned on the worried sister mode and made Madi promise that she would be careful and not do anything stupid like jump into the water to save somebody. Madi did promise. Her best friend simply made her promise to bring her some souvenire and told her that she admired her for wanting to do this and then they spent the rest of the call talking about the guy she was seeing and how she got to a whole new level on one of the video games she was playing at the time that Madi didn’t understand but liked listening to her friend talk about it.

The last conversaion, and weirdly the one that she was both the most anxious and not at all about was Talia. She didn’t call her, she just sent a text - neither of them were really the calling type, and they very rarely actually talked, usually just texted.

[Madi]: So, I’m not going to be home for a while... [Talia]: What have you done? [Madi]: I might have volunteered on one of the rescue teams for that flight that disappeared, did you see that? Or were you too wrapped up in your historical facts? [Talia]: Madiiiiii [Madi]: Yes, that’s my name, though I usually use a lot less i’s :P [Talia]: Your desire to act like a hero can be quite annoying sometimes, you know [Talia]: I was looking forward to a chill night on the couch tomorrow, watching some dumb movie [Talia]: But I guess you’ve already decided, right? [Madi]: Yeah, I fly out to LA tomorrow. We’re just missing each other [Talia]: Somebody is gonna write a book about you and they are going to interview me and I will tell them about that time you got home at 3am and spent an entire hour singing itsy bitsy spider on the foot of my bed, crying about how much spiders are misunderstood and mistrusted even though they are the cutest things on the planet [Madi]: HEY! [Talia]: I know, I know, it’s bees [Talia]: And speaking of them, I won’t have to deal with them, right? [Madi]: Nope, I’m gonna check on them before I leave, they can take care of themselves while I’m gone, you don’t have to go anywhere near them [Talia]: You’re amazing [Madi]: Now tell me about your super historical, super nerdy presentation, did it go okay?

They chatted for a little while longer, Madi happily hearing about Talia’s presentation, being so proud of her. She might have not been there to see it, but she was sure Talia rocked it. And they could celebrate when they would be both back in Boston.

It was evening by the time she was done with everything, and she ate some leftovers from the fridge, watched a sitcom episode on Netflix, and then went to bed early. She wasn’t in the mood for anything else, she was excited to help in something so huge and curious what she would have to do, what kind of job she would be trusted upon. The next day she flew to LA with her partner and spent the remaining of her days on the boat, searching and searching for the disappeared plane without any kind of luck before the fateful accident happened and she’d end up on Meridium.

What she didn’t realize on this Saturday night is that these interactions would become the last she had with them. She talked to Talia and her sister during the trip, and she exchanged a couple of LA memes with her best friend, but there was no end, no goodbye, no finality to any of it. Promises, however, of her return that much more. And all of them would be broken the moment she washed ashore on the sandy beach of Meridium.

#normal #stranded task 1 #task #task 1: the last day #this is mostly just a ramble of a day #i just had some fun with her family and her connections from the real world #and it was really fun to write lol #also click on the pics to see them better #the lock looks super weird already idk why and without clicking the texts are kinda hard to see #also the times are supposed to be in pm #but i just realized i fucked those up now that i posted them #and i can't exactly go back and fix them #sooooooo they will stay lol #ft. talia #ft. liz

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bl4cklabyrinth · 4 years

Text

GiGS October 2020 Cover Feature Translation Part I: Hiro [Vocal] Interview

Disclaimer: Please do not retranslate my work into other languages, as my translation may not be accurate. I am no Japanese or English native.

Photo from here.

Starting things off is a solo corner where I talk to each of them about their latest album “V”.

First up is Hiro, who has been leading MY FIRST STORY as its obligatory frontman.

Not only does he breathe life into their music with his unique, high-toned voice, but he also writes the lyrics to all of their songs. That being said, how did he go about creating this album?

- Hiro, you’ve been writing the lyrics to all of MY FIRST STORY’s songs. Is that something you decided on yourself, or was it something that just came about naturally?

Hiro: I guess I just kind of went with the flow. I’ve always thought that the lyrics should be written by the vocalist, and that the only things I could do in this band were to think of melodies and write lyrics. Because of this, I felt like I had to do what I could. None of the members wanted to write the lyrics either, so I ended up taking on the job.

- I think one aspect of it is that the words coming from the singer himself are more easily conveyed. Having said that, what is important to you when writing lyrics?

Hiro: They aren’t exactly like the punchlines used in rap, but I try to include words that would catch the listeners’ attention and get stuck in their heads even if they were just doing a quick listen. To incorporate hooks, so to speak, in key parts of the song. It’s words like those that leave a strong impression.

- I think being catchy comes with leaving a strong impression. The lyrics you write also always match the taste and deepen the worldview of the song.

Hiro: I’ve never written lyrics before everything else. I listen to the track first, then I quickly jot down the image that comes to mind and the words I could possibly use in the song. I’m the type of person who decides on a theme before I start writing, so the lyrics I come up with naturally complement the music. I guess my songwriting process is kind of like writing an essay or a paper. I don’t just write whatever I want to say at the time; rather, I set a theme and work from there.

- Some people have trouble settling on an image and take some time choosing a theme. How about you, where do you stand?

Hiro: I probably fall among the quick decision makers, but that doesn’t mean I don’t reconsider my choices and change the theme during the writing process. I listen to the song, quickly decide on a theme, then immediately start on the lyrics. The thing is, it takes me quite a while to continue writing after that (laughs).

- I see (laughs). So is adding lyrics the last step in the production process?

Hiro: Yes. I only start writing after the backing track is completed and the melody is set. For example, when words come to me while thinking of a melody, I would sometimes include them in the lyrics if I like them enough, but I won’t start writing the whole thing until the melody is finalized.

- More than that, it’s impressive how your lyrics reveal your inner weaknesses, your pain, and your negative side.

Hiro: I don’t really mind showing that side of me; on the contrary, I have nothing else to write about. I’m also not very good at writing the inspirational, “Let’s do our best!” type of songs. Coming up with those kinds of lyrics frustrates me and tests my patience so I find them difficult to write. However, I was thinking of adding some of those lyrics in the album. Teru composed “Akashi”, and since it’s one of the more cheerful songs on the album, I thought it would be best to make its lyrics positive. So, I decided to give it a shot.

- With the line “Moving forward in the right direction will be my testimony”, “Akashi” is a song that gives the listener a push in the back. Another thing is that your lyrics have the perfect balance between English and Japanese.

Hiro: I guess you can say I find it easier to write lyrics in English. With English, I don’t have to worry too much about the appeal of the words, and there aren’t as many expressions to use either. With Japanese, for instance, the word “ai” (love) connotes all sorts of things such as “itoshi” (dear/beloved), “koishii” (missed/longed for), and “mederu” (to cherish/admire). With English, however, there’s only the word “love” (laughs). It’s straightforward on its own, and you can get your message across depending on how it’s translated. That’s why it’s easier for me to write in English.

- It just occurred to me that you seem to have the tendency to perceive words based on their rhythm.

Hiro: Ah, you’re right. That’s true.

- In that case, it must be easier to write in English.

Hiro: Yeah. English makes it easy to attach words to a melody in a way that sounds good. It’s nice to listen to a melody that’s in sync with the lyrics, right? Getting results like that is simple when you use English. I also think there are a lot of people under the impression that English sounds cooler. I want to make everything as catchy as possible though, even when writing in English, so I try not to use difficult words whenever I can.

- That’s part of the charm. Even so, you added more Japanese lyrics to “V”, didn’t you?

Hiro: That’s right, I did. We’re a Japanese band after all, so writing lyrics in Japanese is still the ideal.

- It’s an advantage to be able to use Japanese and English in a similar way. Speaking of which, when did you write the lyrics to the songs on “V”?

Hiro: It varies from song to song. I wrote the lyrics to “Underground” about a year ago when it was composed. The way this song was made was unusual. I started on the lyrics early because the demo was up sooner than expected and I didn’t want to have a hard time later on, but as it turned out, I didn’t make it in time… or something like that (laughs).

- I see (laughs). On that note, more and more artists are writing about their thoughts on the coronavirus pandemic, but there aren’t any songs like that on “V”, are there?

Hiro: There aren’t. Actually, some of the songs on “V” were made after the coronavirus started spreading. “Starting Over” was composed quite a while ago, but the lyrics were written around the time the pandemic broke out. Same goes for “Daimeiwaku”. Nonetheless, I never thought about writing a song on the coronavirus. I feel like the nuance of the lyrics would be a little too strong for the album. We wanted the whole album to be poppy and catchy, so adding a song about corona would only get in the way of that. I experienced and thought about a lot of things over the course of the pandemic just like everybody else, but I still don’t know what the right thing to do is, and I felt like it wasn’t my place to write about it given the current situation. It’s okay to talk about it during live MCs and stuff like that, but I didn’t want to etch it permanently on something as timeless as a song. That being said, I don’t think I’ll be writing about corona anytime soon. Even if I were to sing about it, it would probably be expressed in a very abstract manner.

- I understand. Every artist is entitled to their own opinion on the subject, so I think those who choose to sing about it and those who don’t are both doing the right thing.

Hiro: I’m in no way trying to invalidate those who sing about corona. As you mentioned, it’s all a matter of perspective. I don’t like singing about topics that directly concern the world… like political discontent. It’s difficult to write about those kinds of themes; I’d rather write lyrics that express my thoughts on a variety of themes and hope that those who are listening can relate them to their own feelings and sentiments at the time.

- There certainly were songs that resonated with me when I listened to them as the pandemic went on, even though they were about something completely unrelated to it. Now that we’ve talked about the lyrics, I’d like to ask you about the songs. How was the recording process for this album?

Hiro: I was away from MY FIRST STORY for a while since quarantine started and I couldn’t hold shows or go to the studio. A long time had passed since I last recorded, so in a good way it felt like I was singing someone else’s songs. That was good for me, because it naturally set forth a new direction and brought out singing techniques in me that I had never used before. Still, I wondered what would happen if I made those kinds of songs with MY FIRST STORY, so I consulted with Nob and our engineer to see how it would turn out. I asked during the recording session, “How would it sound if I sing it like this?” Everyone thought it was unexpected but good when I tried it out, so we just decided to proceed in that direction. It’s this kind of approach that led to more versatile songs this time around. I’d like to believe they fit in with the current era where listeners look for all sorts of things in their music.

- The fact that you were able to present multiple facets in a single package proves that you produced something next-level. “Unexpected but good” is great, because the appeal of a song is more important than the direction it takes.

Hiro: I’m not so sure about that. Most of the songs on “V” were made by Nob, so they were kind of like “Nob’s vision + myself”. It wasn’t all me. I’m glad it all worked out in the end.

- You need a great deal of singing experience to be able to adopt that kind of approach, so I’m sure you sing a lot of different songs on a regular basis. Come to think of it, in the interview with your instrumentalists for the GiGS September 2020 issue, it was mentioned that you sing quite a few songs at karaoke after your live shows.

Hiro: I do (laughs). I find other people’s songs more fresh – or rather, more refreshing. Unlike MY FIRST STORY’s songs, I don’t get the chance to perform them very often so I can sing them pretty casually. I love it. That’s why I sing a ton of artists’ songs when I go to karaoke.

- About singing casually, you’re the type of person who likes to have fun while singing other artists’ songs and doesn’t always stick to his own style, right?

Hiro: Right. To put it another way, there’s a pattern to those who always choose to stick to their own style. I believe that each song has its own merits – ballads, for instance, have a certain charm to them. If you ignore that and sing every single song in the same way, those listening will eventually get bored. Of course, there are advantages to doing that as well, but there’s a part of me that wants to make the most out of things and try different forms of expression in my songs. That’s been in my mind for a while now, and I feel like I was able to expand my range even further with “V”.

- The variety of expressions and range of the songs are wider than ever and they’re really worth listening to.

Hiro: There’s this thing the members often tell me: “Whatever song it may be, it will be MY FIRST STORY as long as Hiro is the one singing”. Teru was the first person to tell me that. He said that around 2 to 3 years ago, and from then on, I stopped being so conscious of my own identity. That was the biggest thing that helped me expand my range.

- Truth be told, the entire album has a touch of Hiro’s personality, all the while showcasing its breadth. Now, if you had to pick a song from “V” that left a strong impression on you, what would it be?

Hiro: There’s really a ton of them this time. It’s like Nob had a theme for each song when we were working on “V”. There were songs that paid homage and some that had a subject matter. I didn’t really pay attention to it, but I was able to see that person’s point of view and the music he’s playing objectively, so I have a strong sense of trust in that. The songs on this album were all new and innovative, so as we got to the later songs, I got a little confused about how to sing them and that made recording pretty difficult. Nob and our engineer pulled it off really well, and I believe we ended up with great results. Among those songs, if I had to choose one that left a particularly strong impression… “Aikotoba” was probably the hardest one to make.

- Bringing something new to the table, “Aikotoba” is a song that has a guitar-rock lyricism to it that’s a bit different from the symphonic ballads you’ve done in the past.

Hiro: That’s true. This song needed to be sung with a nuance that hadn’t been there before. I listened to a lot of music under the so-called guitar-rock genre, and that was the best way for me to get rid of my own tendencies. At any rate, I had to be mindful of singing the song smoothly.

- There are many other notable songs as well. For example, I was strongly drawn to your voice in “moonlight” that seemed to transcend even gender.

Hiro: From the moment I heard the demo for “moonlight”, I knew I wanted to put it in the album. It had a lot in common with “mine” from the “Mukoku” single (2019.8.14) which I thought was a must-have in this album, so I had to make this song just as compelling. I enjoyed recording the song, and I had a great time writing the lyrics as well. I honestly thought that I would struggle with the lyrics, but everything went smoother than I expected, so I have to say that I had the most fun working on “moonlight”.

- We haven’t seen much of it in MY FIRST STORY’s discography so far, but it’s great that you’re able to enjoy songs like this now.

Hiro: I was a bit surprised myself that I was able to make “moonlight” so easily. I’m glad that I discovered a lot of things I wasn’t aware of during the recording of this album, and I’m sure this will continue on for MY FIRST STORY in the future.

#my first story #マイファス #Hiro #print #2020 #this was such a struggle to finish #not bc it was hard #but bc it was so boring to translate #this interview is old news compared to his roj feature #can't wait to start on the other members #sighs

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kweebtrash · 5 years

Text

Feels Right (M)

Messy Ch. 4

Pairing(s): OC X Johnny (features other members, Taeil in this chapter)

Genre: College AU, Fuckboy AU

Summary: Fuckboys are basically good for one thing. You hit it and quit it- except when his voice draws you in, his body keeps you there, and dumb ass feelings linger making things particularly messy.

Warnings: fetishism, racism, a little violence, mentions of blood

Features: library sex, public sex, hand jobs, oral (receiving), fingering, riding Johnny into the sunset, the smallest mention of daddy kinks

Word Count: around 15k

A/N: ‘they’ and ‘she’ are used interchangeably on purpose. ‘Johnathan’ is Johnny’s contact name in Eri’s phone when she doesn’t particularly care about him lol.

Messy Masterlist Buy me a Ko-Fi Other Stories

Eri’s POV

The warmth of his skin was radiating beneath me and I could smell his musk that bathed me in comfort. I kept my arm tight around his waist, burying my face deep into his neck. “Hmm...Johnny.” I mumbled, still half asleep. “You're so warm...don't leave.”

“I won't babes. I promise. You feel so good.”

I cuddled into him more and placed a small kiss on his neck. “You always feel good too…” I couldn't help the small yawn i let out.

“You amazing, princess. You make daddy feel so good.”

“Hmm.” I giggled. “Daddy. That sounds-”

Wait….what?

I sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I blinked a few times and saw Lucas come into view instead of Johnny who I wished was still in my bed. “OH YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” I hit him hard with the pillow while he let out his high pitched hyena cackle. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“You actually said daddy! I can't believe it!!”

My face flamed with embarrassment. I swallowed hard. “Y-you-! Shut up Lucas! You're such an asshole!”

“Don't get mad at me because you're all goo goo-ga ga over Johnny. You're such a slut for him and it's gross.”

“Be quiet! I am not! I was just half asleep and I-”

“You were having big lovey dovey dreams about him!”

“Oh my god!” I hit him with the pillow over and over and pushed at his bulky body until he rolled off the mattress. “You're terrible!”

He curled up on the floor laughing even harder at my flustered frustration. “Quinn told me she ran into him running out of here last night. Did you confess your love to him?”

“He ran out? You're lying.” I said a little hurt. I mean, i get it. Staying over is hardly anyone's thing but if he ran out like a bat out of hell then what was the point of the night we just had? Maybe i was reading too much into it but it still stung.

“Nope, you can ask Quinn.” Lucas cocked his head to the side as his train of thought shifted. I could feel his eyes lock onto me until it made me squirm in my bed.

“What?” I asked, pulling my blanket up to cover my bare body.

“You're...all like….glowy.”

“I'm what? What the hell does glowy mean?”

“Like you're...i don't know. Like...naked and glowy and sparkly or whatever.”

I blinked slowly, confused at what he meant. Perhaps it was the way my open curtain made the afternoon glow of the sun cast rays across my bed. Was that what he meant? I tried tucking my hair behind my ear, suddenly shy at the situation, but it had dried into a mass of fluffy purple curls. I sighed and avoided looking at him. “Can you close my curtain. I hate the sun.”

He crawled his way back to the bed, outstretching his hands to pull me close to the edge. “No way, little vampire. You look too good.”

I rolled my eyes and let out another yawn. “It's just the sun, dumbass. What time is it anyway?”

“Around 2 i think.” He kissed my stomach and looked up at me trying to peel away the blanket. I swatted at his hand.

“Dude, I'm not gonna suck your dick every time you come over.” I groaned.

“I mean i wasn't gonna say anything but the offer is on the table. But actually i wanted to ask you something.”

“What?” i wiggled away from his grasp and went towards the window to draw the curtains closed, tossing the blanket aside.

“Do you have feelings for Johnny or what?”

I whipped around and glared at him. “What did you just say?”

“You know, he spent the night, you wanna call him daddy, you definitely wanted to cuddle him, and now you're all glowy. What's the deal, Eri? Are you gonna start writing like Mrs. Johnny Suh on your papers and shit?” He snorted.

“Lucas, you literally have 10 seconds to get out my room before i beat your little ass.” i growled.

“Ooh, make it hurt Mommy.”

I landed another smack, this time to the back of his head. “QUINN!!!! Come get your Lucas!”

“Ow!” He rubbed the back of his head and pushed me playfully. “You’re always so mean to me! I’m just trying to have fun with you.”

“Yeah, by being a pain in the ass. I don't have time for this. I have to go to work at 4.” I reached for my phone that laid beside my pillow. “Did my alarm go off or did you wake me before i needed to be up?”

“i'm not sure. I figured you'd like waking up with me instead. I'm sure you didn't cum hard enough with all that soft shit Johnny did.”

I looked at him with a puzzled expression. “How do you know about that?”

Lucas’ eyes went wide as his ears reddened. “Uh...um...i just figured that-i mean like you don't have like...nevermind. Anyway-” He worked to change the subject quickly. I wanted to pry some more information out of him. I doubted that Johnny would've admitted to the kind of sex we had last night. Not in front of his dude bros. He was too macho for that. “We should have time for a little something.” Lucas continued.

“‘Is that seriously all you think about when you’re with me? Don’t you like value my friendship at all?”

He placed a kiss on top of my forehead and rubbed my shoulders. “Of course i do. It’s just fun doing stuff with you is all. I haven’t seen you in a while since we’ve both been busy. And now that you’re all lovey dovey with Johnny you’re gonna forget all about me!” He gave me a big puppy pout which made me roll my eyes.

“Stop saying i’m lovey dovey whatever for Johnny. I’m not. And I won’t forget about you Lucas. How can I when you’re up my ass all the time?” I sighed and stood on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re still one of my best friends, ok? I’m not going anywhere.”

He gave me a cheesy smile and i assumed my sentiment put his heart at ease. No matter how annoying he was i really did care for him. I laid my head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around me, and while it wasn't exactly the person i wanted i still felt comforted enough to never want him to stop. Quinn came in then, hands on their hips and a disapproving look on their face.

“Lucas, why are you bothering Eri? Eri, put some clothes on.” They said.

“He came barging in here and woke me up! I was asleep naked. I haven't had a chance too!” I protested before a soft vibration caught my attention. I looked down at my phone and saw a new text message.

Johnathan: Told you I don’t sleep over

I pouted at his jerk like attitude. He was so obnoxious. I tried to think of how to respond. I wanted him to regret running out of my room and leaving me to wake up (mostly) alone. I decided to send him a picture, testing exactly how “glowy” I looked. I opened my camera and angled it so the sun hit just right. I was looking pretty banging even with messy hair and not getting enough sleep. My eyes even looked a bit lighter than normal which never happened. They never casted that gorgeous honey glow like Johnny’s did. I almost let out a dreamy sigh just thinking about his eyes but i shook those thoughts out of my head almost as fast as they appeared. I snapped the picture instead and sent it off to him.

Too bad. You could have had some bomb ass morning sex.

I made a quick change to his contact name before looking out the window. A part of me was trying to cover up the fact that I had been so engrossed in my phone before Quinn and Lucas started to pry, the other part was trying to figure out what the weather was like just by looking outside. Though it was nearing October the weather was still mostly warm with only spikes of cooler winds every once in awhile. I really didn’t feel like lugging a sweater to work- hell i didn’t even feel like lugging myself to work. I checked the time on my phone and it was later than what Lucas had predicted. I needed them out of my room so I could start getting ready,

“Ok you two, i need to take a shower so I can get ready for my suffering. Get out.” I shooed away Quinn and Lucas who were probably two seconds away from jumping each others bones anyway.

“Eri you owe us still.” Lucas called out from my door way. Quinn was already tugging on his hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Threesome I know. Raincheck again. I have to get going.”

He finally left my room and i shut the door, trying to get some peace and quiet for just a second. What the hell happened last night? I didn’t remember too much as I was falling in and out of rem sleep. I could’ve sworn I felt Johnny still inside me and we had been holding hands for awhile too. Just the thought alone made my cheeks burn. And the way we fucked yesterday was...something else. I could barely think straight. All i did was focus on the pleasure and held him so tight. I didn’t want to let him go. Lucas was right though I didn’t want to admit it. I was getting to be too lovey dovey with Johnny. Even the thought of it was starting to send me into a panic. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Like, hi, hello, self, get it the fuck together. Love was something to be avoided at all cost. Maybe I was just in love with his dick. That thing could make anyone go crazy. I was so deep in thought that the sensation of my phone vibrating made me jump. It was another text message from Johnny.

Johnny💕: Blame my job babe. If i could quit and fuck you all day, shit i would.

Ew gross. Why did he do this every time? Just talk like a normal person you idiot. I shouldn’t expect that much from him and to be honest the fact that he was still thinking about me (even if it was just my body) was making my heart skip a beat or two. No. Stop. Ignore that. Ignore him. I tossed my phone onto my bed and grabbed my towel before heading to the bathroom. I had to focus on better things like work, or my study session with Taeil tomorrow. If anything i was sure he could get my mind off of Johnny for good.

I crossed my legs underneath the wooden table, adjusting my skirt that rode up my thighs. I bit down on my pen cap staring at a mess of circulatory routes and charts that just wasn’t sinking into my brain. I hated that I had to take a science as a required credit. I was a journalist and musician. Art kids didn’t do science or math. What’s worse was that I had to get this down soon as I already had a test coming up. My eyes were starting to blur and I wanted to throw my rented textbook across the library.

“Eri?” I jumped up as I felt Taeil’s hand on my thigh. “Are you okay?”

I blinked quickly and looked up at him. I had forgotten he was there just for a fraction of a second as my stress induced panic made me overthink about failing my class entirely. “S-sorry, i just…” I threw my hands up in frustration. “ Why can't i learn about dicks! Like i know the anatomy of that!”

“Well...i mean um...technically you have to trace the flood flow to it so…” He covered his face as he laughed nervously. “How about we concentrate on getting just one chart down for today, hm?”

I watched his thumb brush over my bare knee. That little movement was enough of a signal to let me know that maybe he wasn't as focused on this lesson either. I sighed, pouting a bit. “My brain hurts. Like literally hurts. Can't we take a break?”

“A break? It's only been twenty minutes!” He smiled at me as he propped his chin on his hand, the other still glued to my skin.

“Yeah, twenty minutes too long! Please? A little break Taeil? Pleeeasssee? If we don't i'm gonna go cross eyed.”

“Fine, fine. We can take a break. But you have to promise me that you'll try your best when we start back up again, ok?”

I nodded eagerly and set my head on the table, wanting to silently cry to myself. There was a silence between us (save for my whines of desperation) that settled into a bit of tension. Taeil's warm hand shifted from my knee to the small of my back, caressing up and down the length of my spine. I assumed he meant it as an act of comfort but my body reciprocated it as a flirtatious invitation. I felt static slide down my limbs and I shifted a bit in my seat. The heat from his hand was spreading through me like fire and I was starting to crave his caresses a little too much. I swallowed thickly and had an idea to shift his attention to something that was weighing on my mind.

“Um...Taeil?” I whispered into the silence of the library.

“Hmm?” He hummed softly. I lifted my head from the desk and peered up at him. His deep brown eyes had a dreamlike gleam within them as they watched me. I sat up a little bit straighter as I felt his fingers glide against the small band of skin that has become exposed from the hem of my shirt sliding up. They slipped under the fabric and traced gentle patterns against me. I resisted the urge as much as I could to not be too obvious with my attraction and want for his fingers.

“Do you...ever think about the party? You know when we met?” I managed to finally spit out.

“Oh...well, I mean, sometimes.” He said, pulling his gaze downward and finally removing his hand from me. “Mostly i think about how I wish Johnny wasn’t an annoying prick who ruined everything.” He let out a soft sigh and turned himself inwards towards the table, picking up his pen and twirling it in his fingers. He seemed to want to fidget more than talk about the jackass who had managed to get me into his bed. If it hadn’t been for him, I might have been fucking Taeil more often and not worrying about Johnny taking large gaps of time in between his text responses.

“God, me too. He really is annoying and kind of stupid. And cranky. I think weed does the opposite for him; like instead of making him chill it just makes him worse.”

I saw a small smile peek out from the corner of Taeil’s lips. “You know it’s a real turn on hearing you complain about him.” he joked.

My eyes widened in surprise and the both of us burst into laughter. I guess we were both on the same page about that giant asshole. “Well I could complain about him all day but...i do kind of regret not talking to you more. Like since the party I haven’t really had a chance to hang with you, beside in this dumpy library.”

“Aww, c’mon. It’s not dumpy. I love this place.” He paused for a second. “Wow, I sound like a complete nerd.”

I shifted my body towards him, leaning in ever so slightly and crossing my legs again so they they brushed against his. “It’s okay. Nerds are cute. Really cute.”

“You think so? I guess I should keep that in mind.” He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth as he flicked his pen against the wooden table top. Played out like this, it kind of felt like a cheesy porno but he was definitely hot and I had been curious about his lingual skills ever since Quinn told me they hooked up with him. I could see his cheeks turning as bright as his hair, especially when my fingers crept closer to his. “Do you remember when I said that there was something that you should know about me back at the party?”

To be honest I kind of didn’t, some parts of that night were still a bit of a blur. It might’ve been when we were about to kiss- before Johnny ruined everything. “Uh, yeah. Why?” I half fibbed.

“Well...I mean, we’re here and I-i’m pretty sure I’m reading the signals right-” He started.

“What signals?” I teased as I moved my fingers even closer until they linked with his.

“You know...you. Me. The party. Here now. Do you want to uh…”

“Fuck?”

Taeil swallowed hard and hid his face away from me completely. “Ah...well...that’s what I need to talk to you about. I’ve never...I mean, i would want to...with you but…” He stuttered through his sentence nervously.

Wait a goddamn minute. Was he saying that he was a virgin? But he and Quinn-? Quinn wouldn’t lie about hooking up with anyone. They loved to talk about all their hookups. We had also been friends for years and I knew them better than anyone so this had to mean that Taeil was lying. He was using the virgin thing as some sort of weird pickup line-a way to get girls in his bed. Great, I couldn’t even find one good guy on this god forsaken campus. “Taeil, are you saying that you’re a virgin?”

He rubbed the back of his head and gave me the cute shy smile that I now wanted to slap off his face. “Y-yeah...I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disappoint-”

“Oh Taeil, i’m not disappointed that you’re a virgin. I’m disappointed that you thought that wack ass lie would work on me.”

His face only held an expression of shock. I glared at him, daring him to lie further. “Wait...what?”

“Quinn’s my roommate. Did you really think they wouldn’t tell me who they hooked up with? Do you actually get laid pretending to be so innocent?”

Taeil sat back in his seat, resting his arm on the backrest and spreading his legs. He looked so smug now, a complete opposite to his pure act he upheld just moments ago. “Yeah, i do. But I guess I slipped up. Quinn’s kinda...ya know, a little ditzy. She believed it so quick, I thought i’d might have the same luck with you. I mean, if I would have told you at the party I’m sure i would’ve taken you home before you even jumped in the pool.”

I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest. “You know, I thought you would be one of the good ones. At least one that was less of a prick but you’re just as dumb and horny as the rest of them. You got caught in your own lie asshole.”

“You can’t blame a guy for trying. It’s more fun this way, like a little roleplay, you know? A quiet library, an eager student, a good tutor. It’s classic.”

“Ugh, i should’ve never come here. You’re lucky I actually need your help. Do you even know anything about anatomy?”

“Oh tons.” Taeil chuckled as he licked his lips. I hit his shoulder hard.

“Don’t you even fuckin’ dare, Taeil. You know what i mean!”

“Okay, okay! Yes i know anatomy and i can actually help you pass. Turns out sex is a great motivator for students. You study, i reward you, how about that?”

“You're literally so gross.” I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to my notes. Now i wanted to finish this damn study session and get out of here as fast as possible.

“Eri,” I felt his warm breath on the shell of my ear suddenly and my entire body froze. Little sparks of electricity zipped under my skin and i couldn't help the reaction. “Just try my method once. If you don't pass you can blame me. But if you do pass then you can keep coming back to our little study sessions. Don't you want to come?”

I grit my teeth, annoyed at his double entendre and even more annoyed that he was right. I wanted to cum and i seriously needed to pass or else i'd be forced to retake the class. Suffering through almost 4 months once was enough, i couldn't risk having to possibly do it again. I kicked myself for falling into his liar's trap. “Fine. But i'm holding you to it. If i don't pass i'm gonna find every girl you've ever hooked up with and tell them that you're a filthy liar. I'll expose you and destroy this little set up you've got going on.”

“So blackmail's your speed? What's to say those girls will believe you?” His hand gripped the inside of my thigh tight as his body remained close to mine. I couldn't tell if the heat radiating from him was anger or pure lust, maybe a mix of both, but i tried to pretend it didn't affect me.

“Oh honey, there's nothing we love more than good gossip. A rumor goes a long way.” I turned to face him, our lips barely centimeters apart now. My eyes flickered up to meet his. They were dark and full of emotions that i tried to decipher to no avail. My breath caught in my throat. Sometimes the quiet shy ones (even those that pretended to be that way) were the most dangerous. I swallowed hard as i felt his words press against my mouth.

“I won't let you fail, Eri. Scout's honor. But say one thing about my little lie and i'll be sure you do fail. Two can play that game, you know.”

Asshole. I nodded anyway, agreeing reluctantly.

“Good, glad we’re on the same page. Now if you can stopped being hooked on Johnny for a second we can focus.”

“I am not hooked on him. It was a lapse in my better judgement. Trust me, that’s over with.”

“Aww, now who’s the liar here?”

I didn’t have time to protest as his lips pressed against mine, taking my breath away. I gave into the languid clash of our lips almost instantly. He didn’t rush or shove his tongue in right away. No, with Taeil it was like he wanted to explore every inch of my lips before coaxing anything else from me. His teeth nipped ever so gently at my bottom lip before sucking on the tender skin. I leaned into him more, craving his tongue and any roughness he could give me. I didn’t even bother to think about the sparse amount of students hanging around that could possibly be watching. His hand on my thigh inched its way higher until the tips of his fingers brushed against the center of my panties. A little gasp slipped from me and made him chuckle.

“You’re so sensitive already? I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Quiet. You just surprised me that’s all.”

“So you don’t want me to finger you under this table?” He asked.

“I didn’t say all that now. I just...happened to be more curious about your tongue. Jerk.”

“My tongue?” He licked my lips slowly. “What about my tongue?”

I shoved at him and turned away, getting annoyed by his antics. “Is there any semblance of human decency in you or all you just all fuckboy?”

“Depends on what you classify as decency. I could be an asshole and not eat you out at all.”

“Please eat me out.” I blurted. I hadn't had it for so long that just the mere thought of it was enough to make me beg. Taeil looked around before nodding towards the bookshelves.

“Follow me.” We both stood up, leaving our notes and textbooks behind. We weaved our way to the far back row of shelves where the lights were dim and the books musty and old. I was pressed against the hard wood while Taeil sunk to his knees as if he was ready to worship my body. He shuffled my skirt up towards my waist, placing a few sparse kisses to the center of my panties before flexing his fingers underneath the waistband. The cool air from the vent above us made my newly exposed skin blossom with goosebumps as he pulled them down. Little by little my thighs were blessed with soft presses of his lips while his hands explored the expanse of my ass. He gently dug his fingertips into my cheeks before pulling my hips forward. I could feel the steady puffs of breaths against my clit and i was almost squirming at the normal act. He wasn’t even trying yet and I was already putty in his hands. If Johnny wasn’t such a dick and would go down on me then I wouldn’t feel like such a needy slut for this lying bastard.

I cast my eyes downward, my breath stilling in my lungs as I saw Taeil’s eager eyes meet mine. His tongue slipped past his lips to connect with my impatient clit. He licked a small strip against the length of it before swirling just the tip of his tongue over the most sensitive part. My hand gripped one of the shelves to steady myself while the other covered my mouth. My toes were curling within my shoes and i tried to relax as much as possible and not lose my cool. I wanted this sweet sensation to last hours especially with how his miniscule licks were turning into more confident sucks. My hips were beginning to roll against his face but he stopped that quickly, placing his thumbs firmly into the dips of my hips. A dangerous flame ignited in the pit of my stomach as i almost doubled over. His eyebrow quirked and he pulled away.

“Sounds like you really like when I touch you here.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded quickly. “Please…”

His lips upturned into a smirk until they disappeared between mine again, this time hungrier and more sinful than before. His tongue covered the entirety of my slit, grinding up and down, alternating between sucks and small kisses. Every few seconds he would dig into my entrance, his tongue edging against the beginning of my walls. His thumb would circle my clit then, never failing to pleasure my bundle of nerves. My calves were starting to quiver now and I could feel an orgasm approaching already. What the hell? I had never really cum this fast before.

“Ta-Taeil! U-um…” I bit into my bottom lip as i lifted myself onto my tiptoes, pressing my hips harder against him. He pulled away just for a fraction of a second, his index finger against his glistening lips.

“Ssh, we’re in a library remember.” He gave me a wink before sending me over the edge and into a pleasure filled void that i had missed so much. My grip on the shelf was becoming so tight I thought i would surely send the row of books crashing to the floor. I could even feel the edges digging into my palm creating brutal indentations. I exhaled slowly and slumped against the shelves.

Taeil rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His lips overwhelmed mine as my head was spinning. I could still taste myself on his tongue as we battle for comman over the sensuous dance. He was making me fall in lust with him way too fast. I wrapped my leg around his waist wanting even more from my little tutor. My hands found their way to his chest, gripping his t shirt tightly as i nipped at his bottom lip. “I should’ve hooked up with you earlier.” He whispered with a soft chuckle.

“That’s for damn sure. Don’t you dare stop now. For the love of God, dont.”

He angled my head to the side to capture my neck in rugged bites and restless sucks. His hand steadied my raised leg on his waist while his foot nudged mine, allowing him more access for his fingers to slip between my folds. He didn’t waste any time adding two fingers inside me, easing quick thrusts and riding the length of my walls. My brows furrowed as I focused on the effortless pleasure that was building up with each stroke. “Tell me how good i’m making you feel, Eri.” He whispered against the wet marks he left behind on my jugular.

A tingle went down my spine at the provocativeness of his words. I never expected him to desire any sort of praise or dirty talk, especially from me. It was one of my worst weaknesses. I was always too shy and embarrassed to say anything directly sexual (other than the few begs here and there). Now I was faced with Taeil wanting me to praise him while his fingers pumped faster inside me, occasionally splitting apart to stretch me open. My nails sunk into his chest even more while my lips struggled to even form any sort of sentences, appraisals or not. “Do it and I’ll go down on you again.”

Oh jesus, please. Yes, do that. I barely let my voice go over a whisper but I gave into his request. “P-Please, Taeil. It feels really good.”

He pulled his fingers from inside me, leaving me gaping and whining for the warmth to return. They instead disappeared inside his mouth, coating his tongue in my cum and a moan of his own. A slick pop revealed how he clean off every drip. “Damn.”

I covered his mouth quickly. “Don’t you dare say that I taste good. Please.”

He jerked his head away from my hand and laughed. “Cum just tastes like cum. I just like how wet you are is all. But i guess you earned my tongue again.”

He shifted the leg around his waist to rest on his shoulder as he sunk down to the ground again.. His sucks came faster, dragging those sinful fingers through me once again. I met each of his pistons with driving force, panting with eagerness and desperation. His tongue painted shapes i never knew imaginable against my heat. My eyes fell closed and my hand fisted his firey locks, keeping him flush against me. My grinds swirls against his nose, his lips, his chin, and that perfect, perfect tongue. The edge of his middle finger grazed against the threshold of my spot sending another spark throughout my lower half. A strangled breath left my lungs, followed my an embarrassing squeak as i could barely form thoughts. My brain was dipping in and out of common sense as my second orgasm hit me in another sudden rush i wasn’t expecting. My fingers slowly untangled themselves from his hair as he pulled away. His chest heaved as he wiped his face, rising to his feet once again. “Turn around. Now.”

I bit my lip at his command, executing it while the clang of his belt opening rang in my ears. He unzipped his jean and the familiar tear of foil followed. Of course he had planned this all out. I almost rolled my eyes even though I was thankful for it. He gripped my hips tightly, lifting me onto my toes as his cock pressed into my entrance slowly. The stretch wasn’t a tight or deep as Johnny or even Lucas but i was still restless to feel him fuck me hard against these shelves. He dragged my hips back to meet his creating a symphony of skin slapping against skin. I hoped that it wasn’t echoing too loudly in the quiet space. Joined with Taeil’s intermittent pants and the soft claps of the bookshelf against the wall, i was sure someone might bust us any second. I tried to keep quiet but Taeil was making it difficult. His hand had left my hip and shoved its way beneath my sweater, roughly filling his palm with my breast. He squeezed and plucked away at my nipple daring to bring more moans out of me.

I was already sensitive, my clit swollen with pleasure and heat, I could barely take any more of his teases to my chest or his quick and simple thrusts. I clenched around him tight, sucking him as deep as he could go inside me. Taeil pressed his lips into my shoulder hard sinking a moan into my heated skin. His thrusts stuttered as i felt his legs falter. His cum rushed into me as he braced himself against the bookshelf. It hit the wall harder this time, making me snap my head up to see if anyone noticed. I could’ve sworn i heard footsteps tap against the tiled floor too.

“Shit...Taeil. Is someone coming?”

“Yeah, i just did?”

“No, you idiot. Don’t you hear footsteps?” I whispered harshly.

He stilled himself, concentrating on following the sounds. He pulled out of me quickly, snapping the rubber off him and working to zip up his jeans. I wiggled my skirt down and wiped the sweat off my face, hoping that it wasn’t blatantly obvious that we just fucked. The footsteps were nearing closer and i plucked a random book from the shelf, pretending to read while Taeil pretended to search for something.

“Are ya’ll done- Eri?” I looked up to see Taeyong rounding the corner.

“Oh fuck, it’s just you.” Taeil said. “What do you want?”

“Duh, dumbass. You said you’d give me a ride home after your last lesson and to meet you here. I know your usual spot. I didn’t know your “lesson” was with Eri though.”

I cleared my throat. “I needed help with anatomy.”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you do. Anyway, can we go now? I’m beat.”

Taeil sighed. “Just give me a few minutes. I’ll meet you in the parking lot ok?”

“It’s fine.” I interjected. “I think i’m ready to leave. I’ll see you later, Taeil.” I walked passed Taeyong without barely a word and headed back to the desk to gather my things. I was putting away my textbook when my phone buzzed against the table.

Johnny💕: you busy 2mrw night?

Interesting. He didn’t start it with his usual “wyd?”.

Why?

I pulled my backpack onto my shoulder and got my keys, heading to the elevator. Funny how he hadn’t texted me since our hookup yesterday but was all about a booty call now. For a moment I hesitated. I had been left on the edge of an interrupted orgasm thanks to T.Y. I could probably finish up with Johnny but also- ugh- that was too much work. I pressed the button to the elevator, hearing Taeil and T.Y. bickering in the distance. The doors opened and I stepped through, looking down at my phone again.

Johnny💕: party. On the beach by the amusement park. Wanna go?

Did parties count as dates? Or did it mean that he just wanted me to go for the hell of it? I wondered if he had invited anyone else.

Who’s going?

I saw the ellipse of his response wriggling on the screen and I waited. I didn’t like the way my notification vibration made my heart jump every time he responded.

Johnny💕: some people I know. Not like in our circle. Its gonna be chill. Come with.

Why should i?

I stepped out of the elevator and headed out of the library towards the parking lot. My car wasn’t too far and i got to it quickly, stepping in and starting up the engine. I checked my phone again just as his name popped up.

Johnny💕: wanna see u.

I dropped my phone as i panicked and when i reached to pick it up from between my feet i hit my head on the steering wheel, making the horn go off and startling me even more. FUCK! I rubbed the sore spot on my forehead and looked at the message once more. His message was still there, clear as day. It wasn’t an illusion. He wanted to see me, to actually hang out with me. I never thought I would ever get that from him. Maybe it was just a joke. I let out a loud whine and threw myself back in my seat. I hated him so much. Why did he have to draw me back in every time? I wanted to lie to myself so bad and say that those three little words didn’t mean anything to me. But the truth was that I wanted to see him too.

“What kind of party is this?” I asked as I stepped out of Johnny’s car. We had driven to the beach adjacent to the local amusement park that was almost an hour away. It better be a worthwhile party since I had to endure a car ride of hesitant silence between us that was only filled with shitty trap music and remixes. Occasionally we would cast glances at each other- I would notice the veins in his arm as he drove one handed and leaned back in his seat, how his fingers drummed against his thigh or the steering wheel, and the way his skinny jeans cupped his bulge in all the right ways. Every once in awhile he would switch the hand he was driving with, letting the other drift to the center console between us. His pinky or middle finger would brush against my bare thigh and that’s when our eyes would meet. He would always adjust himself and sit up straighter after that. I had no idea what the fuck was going on in his head and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to find out.

When I stepped out of the car though I could smell the salty bitterness of ocean air coupled with the smokiness of a fire. I had never been to a beach party before. I assumed it would be a bit nicer then one held in some trashed house or tiny apartment. I however didn’t think my outfit through enough. A halter top and mini skirt was not enough to keep me warm from the ocean breeze and beginnings of fall. I hugged myself, rubbing my hands up and down my shoulders to try and get some heat in me. I was ready to go near that fire asap. I looked back at Johnny who had finished locking up his beat up hyundai. I didn’t dare move without him; i was way too afraid to enter some party full of people I didn’t know.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I was waiting for you. They’re your friends, not mine.” I shifted my weight, bouncing a little.

“Why the hell are you fidgeting?”

“I’m cold, ok? Can we get to the fire please?”

“No one told you to wear barely anything.” He grabbed my arm and guided me towards the steps of the boardwalk.

“Oh, shut it! You like when I wear barely anything. Besides you said it was on the beach but it’s colder than i thought!” i tried wiggling out of his grasp but he kept me close to him. I pouted as we both descended down the wooden stairs, reaching the student infested sands. Johnny kept forward already greeting people he knew but I stayed frozen in place. This party was my absolute worst nightmare. Preppy, privileged bastards in khaki shorts and pastel polos and god awful ugly sandals that just screamed “hey my mom scammed the school system to get me into this college for free.” Those hoity toity bastards were coupled with plenty of chicks who looked like their favorite thing to do was cry over not getting a name brand purse from their sugar daddies. In the sea of eurocentric features Johnny and I stuck out like two sore thumbs, yet here he was laughing it up with them. I didn't want to be here at all.

I stayed in the corner, almost beneath the boardwalk entirely, wanting to cast the shadows around me and disappear. Johnny was some social butterfly that seemed to make everyone laugh as soon as he arrived. He was already getting passed a blunt and popping caps off of beer bottles. I doubted he even noticed I wasn't beside him. But i sure as hell noticed, and recognized, the blonde that bounced up to him with vigor. It was the one who he was with the night I was with Ten, the one who he didn't crop out of his snap all the way, the one who's nails were still sparkly and bubblegum pink as ever like ten flashing neon signs. She was already draping herself over him, those stupid pink nails coming to cup his face to try and pull him in for a kiss.

I turned away then, feeling sick to my stomach. I didn't want to watch whatever he decided to do with her. I was stuck here since i was stupid enough to let him drive. I couldn't even go to the car and lay down in solitude. I wondered if Quinn could somehow convince Jaehyun to come get me but he would probably just want to drink and smoke once he got here too. I sighed and fiddled with the thin straps of my halter top, adjusting the fit over my chest. I also wondered how long Johnny wanted to stay. It was already nearing midnight and I wasn’t in the mood to be here until 5 or 6 am. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through some social media, passing a chunk of time by. Eventually, out of the corner of my eye i could see a group of those khaki wearing bastards getting closer to me, trying to be inconspicuous about it and failing miserably.

I couldn't hear what they were saying but they were laughing loud enough to keep me on edge. I glanced over at the rest of the party goers, trying to gauge where Johnny was at. I couldn't see his deep navy beanie everywhere. A little part of me was starting to panic. Surely, he didn't just ditch me to go hook up with fucking malibu barbie. I was half tempted to text him when my view was suddenly blocked by a flash of pink. I looked up to see a chiseled chin and perfectly swooped blonde hair. His deep blue eyes seemed predatory and i hated the way he had closed the distance between us so quickly.

“Can i help you?” I asked. I took a step back, showing that I wanted nothing to do with him.

“What's your name, sweetheart?” He gripped onto the edge of the boardwalk above me making me feel like a trapped rat in a cage.

I shifted uncomfortably but held my head up, feigning my confidence. “None of your business. Can you back the fuck up?”

He didn't budge one bit. “You know, you're pretty cute for a mixed chick, kinda dark but-” he licked his lips and looked me up and down. “We can work around that.”

I clenched my jaw almost as tightly as i did my fist. Did he really just say that? Right to my face? “Back. The fuck. Up.” I growled.

“That attitude is cute, sweetheart, but lose it for a minute. My friends and I just wanted to know if you wanted to have some fun tonight. We're all kind of craving something sweet.”

“Fuck you.” I shoved him back with all my might as my breath reach a high level of panic. I craved to remove myself from this situation entirely, but he was bigger and stockier than me. I wedged myself between him and a supporting beam of the boardwalk, get a few small inches away from him. His calloused hand gripped my shoulder and pulled me back against him. A chunk of hair had managed to get trapped under his assault, yanking my head back with the force. I let out a yelp and struggled against him. “Let go of me!”

“Struggling only adds to the fun.” He smirked down at me and gave my hair another tug. I could feel tears prickling at my eyes. I hated feeling scared and i hated how he thought he could get away with this. I clawed at his hand, almost having to rip it free from my curls and pounded my small fist against his barrel chest.

“Fuckin’ asshole!” I screamed, loud enough that it seemed to draw the attention of the other party goers. I stepped back quickly, managing to free myself more so than last time. I sprinted down the beach as tears began falling down my cheeks. I was too helpless and angry to stop them. I wanted to get away from this place entirely but I still had no way out without Johnny.

“Eri!” I heard the familiar voice call out to me.

I ignored it and kept treading through the sand, working through the way it weighed down my sandals. I heard my name again, this time significantly closer.

“Eri! Wait up!”

I sniffled and whipped around, seeing Johnny barreling up to me. “I want to fuckin’ leave, John. Right now.”

He looked taken aback. “What happened? Are you crying?”

“I don't want to talk about it. Take me home.”

He set his arms on my shoulders, making me face him. “I leave you only for like an hour and something goes down. What the fuck?”

“What the fuck? What the fuck is right? Why'd you bring me to this stupid party? Was this some kind of joke?!” I pushed him hard and he barely took a step back.

He ignored my anger and instead grabbed my face in his hands.” Just tell me what happened already?”

I slapped his hands away, not wanting to feel anyone's touch against me. “That guy is a fucking pig. He wanted to pass me around to his little privileged bastard friends like i was some piece of “chocolate” or whatever else his fetishist ass wanted to do. Probably drug me and force me into a gangbang because apparently “struggling is part of the fun!”

“He said that to you?” Johnny asked, firmly.

“No, i just like lying about being harassed and fetishized. It really gets me off. Almost as much as him assaulting me and pulling my hair.” I rolled my eyes and threw up my hands in frustration. “You know what, you don't have to believe me. You guys are all the fucking same anyway.”

He stood quiet for a moment, nodding a bit. “Bet.”

I opened my mouth but i couldn't even put forth an argument before Johnny split from me. Sand kicked up from his shoes as he bounded in quick strides back towards the bonfire area. What the hell was he doing?! I watched in horror as his shoulder connected with my harasser's stomach, tackling him to the ground. Johnny raised his fist into the air and with a hard snap it rebounded off the other man's jaw. His head reeled back and i was sure blood i saw splatter onto the sand. I was frozen, completely stunned. My heart thundered in my ears as i saw the other rich frat boys circling behind Johnny like hawks.

“You're fucked, man! Don't ever say that shit to her again!”

I was already on edge and i didn't want anything to take a turn for the worse, well worse that it already was. I made a beeline for Johnny, pulling him off the other guy with all my might. “You're insane!” I screamed at him.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” The blond prick said, spitting out a wad of blood.

“If you ever, ever, put your hands on her again, Matt, I'll make you fucking regret it.”

The vengeance in his eyes was almost as scary as the bodies closing in on us. I tugged on Johnny's arm, trying to urge him to move. “Come on! I don't have time to scrape your guts off the boardwalk!” He stayed firm as if he was ready to take on the entire world for me. It took another hard pull to finally get him to start moving. “Let's go!” i shouted as i booked it faster than i had done for the entire night. At this pace i was seconds away from becoming a damn olympic athlete. My lungs were burning and i was struggling to keep up with Johnny's longer strides. He grabbed my hand and dragged me along. I made the mistake of looking back and i could see the five assholes already quick on our tails.

We managed to run up the stairs on the opposite end of the boardwalk, sprinting along the border of the amusement park. If we could hang a left we'd be able to head back to the parking lot and get to Johnny's car. “Johnny!” I panted. “Parking lot!” He didn't seem to hear me as he too was now looking back to see how close they were. Instead of heading to the parking lot he yanked me towards the right, shoving us both behind a maintenance building. I panted heavily and whispered. “What the fuck?! Why didn’t you go left?!!”

“I panicked, ok?!”

“I literally told you to go left! Ugh, if you hadn’t decked him in the face you wouldn’t be in danger of being jumped!”

He pressed himself flush against me, pinning me to the wall as we heard footsteps trudging closer. “Fuck!” It was too much of a close call and he took control again, pulling us to the gates of the park until we were about to hit a dead end. “Climb up the gate!”

“Excuse me?! That thing is like 10 feet high! How the hell am i-” Johnny swiftly grabbed my hips and hoisted me up. I scrambled to grab a hold of the top of the gate and pull myself up. I managed to wiggle my legs to the other side, dangling as i felt my arms burn. Fear settled into the pit of my stomach as i didn’t want to drop down and break my damn ankle or something. Johnny jumped up much easier than i would have and hauled himself over in seconds. Pfft, show off.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me down. Past the gates, the park was swallowed in darkness as it was beyond closing time. The shadows provided us better cover as we stumbled through. My arms were hurting from all the pulling and yanking. My legs were as heavy as lead and my lungs felt like they were about to explode. A gross metallic taste was coating my tongue as if I was going to puke blood any minute. The band of idiots seemed to have lost our whereabouts, giving us a moment of peace for now. While I was recuperating I realized that the police might actually be called and we could get hit with a charge of trespassing and assault. Panic started to set in quick and I shifted around uncomfortably.

“We have to leave. I don’t want to get caught!” I still whispered, afraid that anyone could hear me although we were all alone.

“We won't get caught. Just...give me a second.” He was bent over, gripping his knees as he took longer to catch his breath.

“Cigarettes and weed catching up to you?” I wheezed a bit.

He gave me the finger. “Fuck off.”

“You’re a complete idiot, Johnny. What the hell are we going to do now? The parking lot is all the way on the other side. How are we going to get passed them again?”

He straightened up and wiped the back of his mouth as he headed towards the bumper cars we had ended up by. He plopped down in one of the cars, laying his arms across the back and sighing. “We'll just give it some time. They’ll calm down and then we can leave. Either that or they’ll get too piss drunk to even realize what happened. Relax.”

“What do you mean relax? How do you expect me to relax when so many things just went wrong?!”

“Can you literally just shut up? For two seconds? You’re stressing me out now and I don’t need that shit.” He pulled his half crushed carton of cigarettes out from his pocket and I saw the flame of his lighter ignite.

Him stressed? I should deck him in the mouth just for saying that. I grumbled as I trudged over to the bumper car and climbed in, giving his knee a slap. “Quit man spreading and let me sit down.”

He closed his legs and i managed to wiggle in the minimal space beside him. A quietness slipped between us, only his soft exhales of smoke and the sea breeze whistling through the trees could be heard. He extended the cigarette over to me, which I almost denied. “I didn’t pop the ball so it won’t be as bad.”

He had actually remembered that I hated the taste of menthols. “Still gross.” I took it anyway and inhaled deeply hoping it would calm the incessant nervousness that had taken over me. I kept looking over my shoulder just waiting for us to be busted any second. Minutes passed and I hadn't heard any sirens. The tenseness in my muscles ceased and I was able to ease back into the hard plastic seat. Johnny’s fingers drummed by my shoulders as I passed the cigarette back to him. I shifted a bit as he started unconsciously spreading his legs again, his knees practically touching the steering wheel. I leaned my head towards his chest which made him straighten up instantly. He pulled his arms from around the seat and settled his hands on his thighs, rubbing them against his jeans as if to wipe off the sweat from his palms. I looked at him, wondering if I should break the silence. “Um...thanks for kinda sticking up for me...I guess.” I mumbled.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “What he said was seriously fucked. Sorry that he did that…”

“Don’t apologize for him, he's the one that's a perv…Honestly, I didn’t think you would do anything about it. Well at least not like that. I’m sorry that I said you were the same as those guys...”

“Look, i’m an asshole but i’m not that much of an asshole. Surprisingly enough my mom did raise me right.” He flicked the cigarette butt off the side of the car.

“I know... It’s just that no one’s ever really done that for me. I'm used to defending myself and my friends, but he made me feel so...fucking small.” I crossed my arms over my chest, turning away from Johnny in hopes of deflecting the trembling in my voice. The weak feeling remained in my stomach as i could still feel Matt’s hands on me. Even though it caused more trouble than what it was worth, I was glad Johnny had punched him. If we didn't have the threat of being arrested (or jumped) looming over our heads, I would’ve let him destroy that creep. I dragged my knuckle just under my waterline to wipe a tear that threatened to cross the threshold and sniffled softly.

“Aw c’mon, you’re not gonna be a baby about it now are you?” Johnny nudged me and laughed a bit. I swatted at his hand, not really appreciating his efforts to lighten the mood with an insult. He must have sensed how it affected me as he changed his tune suddenly. “Shit...hey, I didn’t mean it like that. A prick like that doesn't deserve any of your emotional attention. Don't let him have the last laugh.” I felt his index finger brush under my chin before turning my face towards him. “I’m serious, ok?”

I nodded a bit, trying my best to accept his words, until i felt a wetness under my chin. “Are your fingers wet or something?”

“Huh?” What do you mean?”

“I feel something wet on me.” I grabbed my phone then, turning the flashlight on as i pulled his hand away from my face. I shone the light on it until it caught the splotch of blood across his knuckles. “Good job, idiot. You busted your knuckles punching him. They're gonna start swelling soon.”

He shrugged. “I've had worse. I'll be fine.”

“Still…” I looked up at him. “You got hurt because of me.” I felt a little bit guilty. “I-I think i may have some tissue somewhere in my purse.”

“Eri, it's literally ok. I don't care.”

“I care, ok?!” I huffed as handed him my phone and dug through my wristlet, searching for the pack of tissue i had stuffed inside it. “Hold the light up for me.” I pulled one out and dabbed at the blood as best as i could, revealing small cuts across two of his knuckles. “You probably caught his teeth when you hit him.” I held the tissue against the cuts adding pressure in hopes of stopping the bleeding for now.

“Maybe…” he sighed and turned the light off, setting my phone between us. “Why are you so worried about me?”

“I-I wouldn’t say i’m worried or anything! Just like...you can’t just be gross and bleed everywhere!” I shifted a bit in my seat and snapped my mouth shut not wanting anything else embarrassing to spill out like word vomit. His hand weakly gave mine a squeeze, a soft grunt indicating that it hurt him just to do that minimal movement. I sighed. “Why are you so stubborn?”

I felt his forehead press against mine and felt the shift in his shoulders as he shrugged. “Don’t know. In my nature I guess.” The minty tobacco scent on his breath fell against my lips and I could tell he was getting even closer. The kiss was so soft and gentle i almost didn’t feel it. “Thanks for making sure i dont ‘bleed everywhere’.” he chuckled.

I didn’t move, even when his other hand came to rest on my thigh, shyly creeping beneath the hem of my skirt. “Johnny…” I whispered. I knew he meant no harm in his touch but the bit contact made me shrink back just a bit. I loved when Johnny touched me but my body seemed to be giving into the knee jerk reaction of defending myself- like i was trying to make up for what i wanted to do earlier but couldn't. I wanted to force that out of my head instantly. He, however, seemed to take notice of my change in demeanor.

“Hey…” He cleared his throat a bit. “We don’t have to. I just thought that maybe…” he took a moment to figure out how to word his thoughts properly. “I don't want the last thing you feel tonight to be his hands on you. You dont deserve that.”

I didn't want that either. I wanted that scum to be wiped cleaned from my skin and memory like a chalkboard. I buried my face in Johnny's neck wrapping my arm around his shoulders. He pulled me into his lap, keeping me secure against him in a way i so desperately craved. He placed soft kisses against my my temple and all the way down to my shoulder. His fingers gently rubbed at the small of my back until my muscles melted away their tension. I sighed softly and inched myself towards his plush lips, turning my head just in time to catch a kiss to the cheek and turn it into an eager dance of our lips against one another. I cupped his face and tilted my head just a bit deepening the kiss. Our chests were pressed against each other, neither of us being able to catch the breaths we were stealing. He slipped a small moan into my mouth and i could feel the small timbre against my tongue. His grip on me was getting tighter though he was moving away from my kisses. “H-hey…” He whispered.

I tried to kiss him again but he jerked his head back. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I just...wanna make sure you’re chill you know? Before it goes too far…”

“Oh so now who’s worried about who?” I teased.

“My knuckles are one thing, you feeling like you’re not in control of your body and feeling forced to do something is not. Trust me, i know about that all to well.”

I straddled his lip, edging my thighs over either side of his. “Johnny, you caring enough to stop is the most considerate and human thing you’ve ever done for me.”

“A-ah…um…D-don’t make it weird, Eri.” He pushed his head into my chest, hiding completely from me.

“I mean it. I’m okay with you, with us. I don’t feel like you’re forcing me. And you were right, i shouldn’t let him have that hold on me. He doesn’t deserve my attention. You do.” I tilted his head up and kissed him again. “After all you said you don’t want him to be the last thing I felt tonight. So let me feel you instead. Just be careful with your hand, ok?” I brought the back of his hand to my lips, giving it a small peck before setting his palm over my ass.

“You can be mine for the night then…” He whispered as he decorated my collarbone with tiny love bites, branding my skin with the faintest of marks. Both his hands slipped under my skirt gripping my ass and pulling me flush against the center of his jeans while his teeth tugged at the fabric of my halter top. I untied the strings around my neck, letting my breasts free. Another gust of wind rattled through the park making me shudder. Though my skin was just starting to heat up the ocean air was still too cold to my liking. Johnny moved away for a moment and i felt him shuffling as he pulled off his oversized flannel shirt. He set it on my shoulders before wrapping his lips around my nipple. I slipped my arms through the sleeves, content at the newfound warmth and the way Johnny was eagerly bringing my nipples to attention. I kept his head close while my other hand trailed down the waistband of his jeans.

I plucked away at the button and zipper, allowing just enough room for my small hand to slide into his boxer briefs. His hips bucked just a bit when my fingers rolled over the head of his cock and down to his balls, cupping them slightly. I could already feel him reacting to the delicate touches and i wanted to coax more from him. He eased himself into slow rolls, filling my palm with his growing girth. I wrapped my fingers around him trailing languid strokes from his base to just under his head. The hums he made were so delicate i could barely hear them but rather felt the ticklish vibrations around my nipple. I exhaled airily as i gripped the nape of his neck. His devotion switched to my other breast while mine drew my fingertips to his slit.

Tenderly, i swirled my finger around the hypersensitive area, just barely dipping my nail into him. He separated from my chest and breathed out my name igniting sparks deep within my center. That frantic way his deep voice wrapped around that syllable made me love my name more than anything. With the slightest of throbs a bead of precum coated my fingertip. I traced it down his shaft, outlining a vein and making Johnny roll his head back against the seat.

I pressed needy kisses against his throat as if his moans could satisfy the hunger building within me. I quickened my strokes and filled his ear with promises of how good I wanted us to feel together, how deep i wanted him inside me, and how i wanted him to say my name as if it was the only word he knew. How he drew this confidence to even utter such sins, i'll never know but he sure as hell seemed grateful for it. His uninjured hand was clutching at my wrist, following the ups and downs and quick flicks. His lips parted and a heavy groan coated his perfect lips. I stole another kiss wanting to take in that desire that fueled my wetness.

“Baby,” he practically whined. “Fuck...more…”

I lifted my hips, just hovering over his cock. Slowly i pressed him against the seat of my panties, dragging his head up and down my slit through the damp fabric. I circled my hips every time the tip of his cock hit the most sensitive part of my clit. My thighs trembled under the pressure and i hid my mewl with the back of my hand. Johnny worked to follow my undulations adding more speed and digging into my entrance every few seconds. A rough grunt accompanied his fevered hand in shoving my skirt around my waist and clawing at the barrier between us. “Off.” He stated.

I stood up, Johnny holding onto me to keep me steady as i yanked my panties down to curl at my ankles. “Condom?”

“Always.” He chuckled. I heard him searching for the rubber. After the familiar sound of him spitting out a piece of foil he shoved his jeans down further leaving him just as bare as i was. I saw each move in the shadows and he beckoned me to rejoin him on his lap. I sat down on my throne, keeping my back to his chest as he kept an arm around my waist. I guided him towards my entrance, stretching around inch by painfully thick inch until he vanished inside me. My feet settled on the outside of his knees while my hands braced onto the sides of the bumper car.

I lifted my hips carefully before sliding back down taking slow exhales in between. Each pump coaxed out more of my cum, the slickness easing my movements. Eventually i was able to bounce faster, even swirling my hips and dipping down all the way to his base. The back of my head rested on his shoulder, giving him perfect access to the delicate spot beneath my jawline that pleaded to be marked, bruised, and sucked on. He knew exactly what my body wanted and compiled, sucking blood to the surface. My legs buckled, my thighs pursing together as wave after wave of electricity hit me.

Johnny landed a quick slap to my inner thigh and they flee open again, creating a path for his fingers to spread my lower lips open. His middle finger circled against my clit, digging ever so slightly beneath the hood. My walls spasmed around him, clamping down tight. His thrusts rushed through the tightness, increasing the pressure inside me and fucking me so furiously rough that i could barely keep up. I clutched at my hair, my chest, the back of the seat, anything to try and steady my mind enough to not go crazy.

He gripped my face and jerked it towards his, licking and nipping at my lips. “Turn around.” I twisted my way around, parting from his cock for a bit before retaining my position. He edged me back, forcing me to balance myself against the steering wheel. “Ride me, Eri.”

I nodded quickly, swallowing back the dryness in my throat. I ground my hips into his, practically feeling him bulging against my stomach. My nails dug into the textured plastic clawing out the worse sounds that were masked with my rushed moans. Faster and faster our hips met, luring out the most incredible feeling in the world. I reached for him and he yanked me towards him. His arms wrapped around me tight as our lips crashed together until our orgasms wracked through our systems. We didn't let each other go even then, choosing to slow down our thrusts and grinds until the oversensitivity formed aftershocks of pleasure. My whimpers matched his short groans, trading them between our tongues. When we finally parted he buried his face on my neck and i was hit with the aching realization of how sore my legs were.

“My legs are killing me.” I whined.

“Sorry, baby. Bumper car sex was probably not the best idea but I don’t regret that one bit.” He covered my neck and chest in kisses making me giggle. “I can check it off my fuckit list at least.”

“Oh my god, please shut up.” I pushed him away playfully before sliding him out of me. My body gaped around the empty feeling, wishing that he could stay within me all night but my lower half was extremely fatigued and i was tempted to ask him to carry me to the car. Besides. the last place i wanted to stay at was this damn amusement park. I wiggled my skirt down to cover my ass and plopped down beside him. He made quick work of pulling off the used condom and adjusting himself back in his jeans. I rested my head on his shoulder, gripping onto his firm bicep. “Take me home now, Johnny.”

“You’re gonna have to stop clinging onto me if you want to get home. Also i don’t want to hold my jizz forever. I need to get to the garbage can.”

I groaned and hobbled out of the car, hating every second of it. I struggled to get my underwear back on while Johnny stepped out beside me. While i was tying my halter top and pulling his shirt taught against my chest he pushed me back towards the gate we jumped over earlier, taking a moment to toss out the condom in the nearby trash. He stretched his arms out towards me, preparing to get me over the gate. “Come on, i’ll lift you up.”

I winced at the thought of getting hauled up there again. My stomach was already cramping and i was still trying to shaking out the static-y feeling in my legs. I sighed and let him lift me anyway, knowing this was the only way out where we were least likely to get caught. I hoisted myself over, again waiting for him to help bring me down. When we were both on the other side I looked around trying to figure out which way to go. “I think the beach wraps all the way around the park and goes to the other side of the parking lot but it’s gonna take awhile to get to the car. Do you want to chance it and try and cut across the boardwalk?”

“Ugh, not really. I’m pretty sure I can hear their music still. I don’t mind walking around. What about you?”

“Only if you carry me.”

He rolled his eyes and squatted in front of me. “Fine. Get on.”

“Wait, really?” I asked, stunned.

“If it keeps you from whining the whole time, yeah. Let’s go.”

“Well, f-fine!” I hiked myself onto his back, wrapping my arms loosely around his shoulders. He adjusted me until he felt comfortable and started walking across the shoreline, beginning our long journey to the parking lot. He didn’t seem all too bothered by giving me a piggyback ride and i appreciated not having to use my sore legs. I set my head on his shoulders, the warmth of his body and steady strides coupled with my post sex fatigue was enough to make me want to fall asleep right then. I twirled my index finger loosely around the silver chain he wore and closed my eyes.

“Don’t you fall asleep while I’m doing all the work, princess.”

I yawned deeply, already feeling myself drift off. “You’re the one who agreed to it, daddy...”

The lulling movements stopped suddenly and my eyes flew open as I actually realized what i had said. Stupid Lucas putting that in my head! I was gonna kill him! I had no idea if i should pretend I hadn’t said anything or just laugh it off. My mind was on the fritz and shifting full throttle into panic.

“Did you just-?”

“No!” I blurted out. Way to not acknowledge it and brush it off, idiot.

I could hear him try and hide his laughter. “You did. You actually called me daddy.”

“NO I DIDNT! I JUST...IT'S ALL LUCAS’ FAULT!”

“WHAT? You call Lucas daddy??!”

Oh god, no. Abort. Abort. I wiggled myself down from his hold and squirmed, bolting away from my embarrassment. Technically, it made no sense since we had to ride home together, but at this moment i wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

“Eri! Get back here!”

Shit. Shit. Shit! I tried to run faster but my legs did not want to keep up with me. Soon enough I felt Johnny's arms wrap around me, spinning me around before we collapsed onto the sand. “Tell me!” He commanded.

“No!” I covered my face feeling how red it was getting. He grabbed my hands instantly and pinned them down beside my head. I squeezed my eyes shut already wanting to disappear from beneath him.

“Is it some kink you have? Hmm?”

“I'm gonna kill you.” I whimpered.

“Aww c'mon princess. Dad-daddy wants to-” he couldn't even finish his taunt without bursting into laughter.

I groaned and tried to kick myself from under him but he only pressed into me harder. “Shut up! You're being a jerk! I-i don't even know if I like it!” I semi lied.

His laughter died down slowly and he placed another heated kiss on my lips. “Hmm, that's too bad because i think i do.”

My eyes flew open just as he pulled off me, getting up and resuming his walk down the shore. I turned onto my stomach, looking at him in shock. Did he really say what i think he did? I scrambled to my feet and went after him. When i finally caught up my face was still flushed. “D-do you really?” I asked shyly.

He didn't say anything, only giving me a small wink. I cast my gaze downward and kept my mouth shut, afraid of what else would come out of this beach trip. He joined me in my silence, which wasn't terribly awkward but filled with a sexually tense curiosity. He shoved his hands in his pockets and i clutched onto his arm, getting close enough to set my head against his shoulder. He didn't seem to mind and slowed down his strides so i wouldn't trail behind. Even though tonight was a train wreck at the beginning i never thought that it would end with us walking along the beach under the moonlight.

His yawn broke our silence and i looked at the time on my phone. The sun was just beginning to taint the sky with hues of hazy purples and soft blues. We still had that long drive back and i was sure the both of us would spend the day sleeping. Im sure he wouldn't want to drive the extra bit over to his apartment. “Hey, do you just wanna crash at my place?” I asked.

He nodded, that adorable sleepy look crossing his face again. Guess he wasn't up defending his manhood and fuckboy ways this time. “How about i drive us home? I think i'm a little bit more awake that you are.”

“Sounds good. I'm ready to pass the fuck out.” He handed me the keys from his pocket as our long walk finally ended at his car. We got in and i started it up, finally pulling away from the hellhole. I relaxed my hand loosely on the gear shift as i drove. Out of the corner of my eye i could see Johnny already falling asleep. His hand was close to mine, his slender fingers looking perfect and angelic to me in the strangest way. The tip of his pinky edged against mine until they linked together. I smiled a little bit, feeling my whole body tingle with warmth. I was feeling too much like a teenager with a crush and this wasn’t making it any easier.

I unlocked the door to the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible. I wasn't sure if Quinn was here or asleep but i didn't want to be too loud. Johnny followed behind me shutting the door softly. I took his hand and guided him through the darkness until i reached my room. I turned on my desk lamp so the dim light didn't bother us too much. He was quick to get to my bed, craving its comfort.

“Do you need any pj's?” I asked.

He shook his head, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I sleep naked.”

I smirked and laughed a bit. “Of course you do. C'mon then, before you fall asleep in your jeans.”

He groaned and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Meanwhile i worked to toss off my skirt and panties, pulling off my halter top but leaving on Johnny's comfy flannel. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too obvious that i wanted to keep it on all night. When i turned my attention back to him, he was comfortably naked and still sitting on the edge of my bed. I stepped between his knees and pushed his hair back while he rested his head on my stomach. I dont know what prompted my memory but i suddenly remembered the cuts on his knuckles. “Oh! I should probably take care of that now.”

“Of what?”

“Your hand, duh. I'll be right back.” I pulled away from him and headed towards the door. It wasn't until i reached the bathroom that i truly caught the scent that seeped through the fabric and it smelled so good. I couldn't help but bring the collar to my nose and take in his cologne mixed with the mint of his cigarettes. Usually the smell of cigarettes wasn’t pleasant but for some reason it worked on him. Maybe it was just because the shirt mimicked how i loved the way he held me the past couple of times we hooked up. And after tonight i had the fairy tail idea implanted in my brain that he could protect me from any sort of evil i had to face again. It felt good.

Gathering my thoughts, i remembered why i had left my room and rummaged through the cabinet under the sink grabbing the few medical supplies we had. I thought to grab something from the freezer to ease the swelling. The light of the bathroom was just barely enough to guide me to the kitchen where i found an ice pack. I made my way back to my room, closing the door behind me with my foot. Johnny had risen from the bed and instead was in the corner of my room curiously examining my guitar. Fuck.

“What are you doing?”

He shot up quickly. “I just never noticed this before. You play?”

“Uh...y-yeah, a little. Well i guess a lot.”

“You're new at it or-?”

“I...i-um...i've been doing it since high school but I don't really talk about my music stuff. It's kinda embarrassing.”

“How so?”

I shrugged and looked down at my feet. “I'm not really talented or anything.”

He walked back over to the bed and sat down. “You in a band?” He asked deflecting my self degradation.

“Yeah, kinda. We practice and play some gigs.” I set myself between his knees again, laying out the tools i needed to patch him up beside me.

“Oh? What kind of music do you guys play?”

I winced at the question. “Well we...we kinda do um this thing called emo and metal cover night where we just play songs of that genre at this local club. That's why i said i'm not really talented or anything. We don't write our own songs, i can't make up lyrics, my voice isn't super good.”

“But you have fun?”

I nodded.

“Then that's all that fucking matters, dude. And i'm sure you're not as bad as you think. Could i come to one of your shows?”

I stared up at him, eyes as wide as saucers. “Y-you? Come see me??”

“Yeah? Don't your friends go to see you play?”

“Absolutely not. They don't know i do it.”

“What?! Why not? Why are you so embarrassed about it?”

I sighed. “Do you really want to hear me sing ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’ to a group of 20 to 30 somethings that can't fill a bar?”

“Yes.” His quick answer was enough to make my face flush.

“Why?” I whispered.

“I don't think you should hide what you like. Maybe i want to listen to ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’ in a grungy bar.”

I snorted. “Do you even know who that's by?”

“Listen, i had my emo phase when i was 14. Unlike you i grew out of it.” He teased. “Then towards the end of high school i grew my hair out really long and hung out with a bunch of skater kids that listened to screamo.”

“You with long hair?! How long?” I ripped open an alcohol pad and swiped it across his cuts making him hiss.

“Ah-um...past my shoulders.”

“Holy shit. I could never picture you with hair that long.”

“Trust me it was a mistake. I cut it all off like my second year of college.”

“Well thank god for that.” I added a few dabs of antibiotic ointment to the cuts. They were already starting to close just a bit, a good sign that they weren't too deep. I added some bandaids around his knuckles and fingers, mostly satisfied with my handiwork. “Do you want the ice pack?”

“Nah, i'm good. Tell me, do you have a little slutty nurse outfit to put on or are you just gonna wear my shirt all night.” he smirked.

I jumped a little at the mention of his shirt. “Do you, um, want it back?”

He shook his head and leaned back onto the bed. “You look good in it.” He mumbled.

“Ah…” i twiddled with the buttons on the oversized sleeves. We stood quiet for a moment while our eyes couldn’t decide if they wanted to deflect our gazes or meet them head on. I could see a hint of pink on his cheeks that he kept trying to hide.

“Anyway, guess i'll get to bed here.” I nodded and scooted back just a bit to gather up the medical supplies. I tossed out the garbage and made my way to my bed, crawling in beneath the covers. Johnny laid beside me, his side of the covers tossed across his waist. A part of me was already wishing that he would hold me as this was basically the second time he would be staying in my bed. I wanted that feeling of him against me but maybe cuddling was way too personal. I didn't need to add fuel to the fire of my impending thoughts of a crush. Still, maybe after tonight he would give way to similar thoughts. I inched myself closer to him until i pressed my cheek to his chest making him jump up.

“What are you doing?”

I pressed my lips to his briefly. “Just...laying down.”

“You have to be on top of me?”

I pulled away, stung by his words. “Oh...no. Sorry.” I retreated to my side of the bed, facing away from him. Of course i looked like the idiot now. Being shot down like that was a blow to the ego that i should've factored in. But my stupidity got the best of me. My room was covered in silence now, the small space between our bodies seeming as vast as an abyss and full of our awkwardness. I closed my eyes then as i tried to sleep, trying to forget. Sleep didn’t come easy though. It felt like hours passed by of me being awake though my body was screaming that it was tired. It was driving me insane and Johnny’s constant tossing and turning wasn’t helping at all. I was halfway tempted to make him sleep on the couch when i felt his arm wrap around my waist suddenly. He pulled me flush against him, our chests pressed together and his head settling atop mine. Now i was utterly confused at his hot and cold signals. He could be asleep and just having a dream but i wished that it didn't have to play with my emotions.

“Johnny?” I whispered, testing to see if he was actually asleep.

He left out a soft hum, partially acknowledging me. He didn't move away from me, only closer until my face was buried in his neck and i had no choice but to be surrounded by his warmth. His willingness to finally hold me almost made up for his earlier mixed signals. In this fraction of a moment of peace everything felt utterly perfect and I wanted to stay like this forever. He was still an asshole but I could see that underneath his fuckboy exterior he was actually a human being sometimes. I sighed contently as i wrapped my leg over his hips and clutched at his bicep. His hand shifted from my waist to beneath his shirt trailing up my spine and making me flinch away at the ticklish sensation. I felt the small laugh vibrate in his throat and i gave him a small tap on his shoulder. “Don’t tickle me.”

“I’m not.” He rasped. “You’re just sensitive right here.” His fingers drifted up and down my spine again making me squirm against him.

“You freaked out when i tried to lay on your chest earlier, what's with the change of heart?” I probed.

He stood quiet for so long i thought he had fallen asleep again. “Couldn't really get back to sleep. I figured maybe you might be able to help.”

“Help?” I scoffed. “Yeah, maybe i can conk you in the head and knock you out. You'll be asleep then.”

I saw a little smile tug at the corner of his lips. “I'm sure you'd love that. For now, just stay like this.”

I swallowed hard and twirled my finger in his necklace again. “Y-yeah...sure.”

“You feel good.” His words mimicked Lucas’ from a few days ago. I didn’t know how else to respond. I stood quiet, keeping my face hidden. He pressed my hips against him harder and i could feel exactly what he wanted, what he needed. “Help me fall asleep?”

“Slut.” I finally said, rolling my eyes. Of course that’s why he decided to hold me. He chuckled and looked down at me before placing a kiss to my lips.

“Can’t help it when im with you.”

I dug my nails into his skin, my body tensing at his words and the gentle way he was rocking his hips into my residual wetness. “You’re the..” I hummed softly when i felt him press into me. “A-ahh, Johnny wait…”

He eased me onto my back, rolling onto my body and wrapping my legs around him fully. “Can I-?”

“No.” I said sternly. “I’ll beat your ass.”

“The things I do for you, Eri. Why do you have to drive me so fucking insane.” He grabbed my chin and slipped my tongue into his hot mouth almost distracting me. I clutched at his shoulders until he pulled away, reaching down to fumble through his pockets.

“Me drive you insane?” Oh, if you only knew. “I could say the same about you, jerk.”

He rolled on the fresh rubber and settled inside me again. My mind drifted to the last time we were sleepy and begging to fuck. This time it seemed even gentler, his thrusts much slower and soft hums of pleasure tickling my ear. I closed my eyes and arched into his perfect frame, keeping it close as possible.

“I’m the one that should be in an asylum dealing with you.” I panted softly, trying to keep of my facade of not falling in love with the way he felt inside me.

His large hands caressed my forearms, sliding up until our hands intertwined. He squeezed them tight making my heart speed into overdrive. I heard it pumping in my ears as a overwhelming warmth crawled into every inch of my skin. I trembled just at the thought that was clawing at my brain. Please don’t tell me i’m falling in love with him.

John/Eri Chat

(Day 1)

Hey i had a good time the other night. Ur not so bad lol

Johnny💕: Read

(Day 5)

Hey, havent heard from you in a bit

U ok?

John: Read

(Day 7)

Asshole: Read

(Day 11)

Ok…

Forget Him: Read

#johnny #Johnny Fanfic #JOHNNY SMUT #johnny suh #johnny fanfiction #johnny seo #johnny seo smut #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fanfiction #nct 127 smut #nct smut

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atinyidea · 5 years

Text

Glitch | Ateez Gang! AU | FIVE

⟶ gang!au, hacker!au, love triangle? poly? female!original character

How curious it is, the fact that the police just gave a media conference, confirming ATZ’s involvement in Kyungri’s families newly-appointed murder, just as she sat down for her best friend, Jaehyeon, to be tattooed by one of the gang members?

⟶ glitch ml! main ml!

⟶ prologue | previous | next

⟶ note! @bri-ne @atinyluna @iis4d @untainted-memories @thegirlwiththedorkydad !! if anyone wants to be on a tag list for this fic just let me know!

⟶ 2983 words

⟶ edited 08.03.2020

FIVE: Warning Signs, Colour Change And The Text

SAN, KQ HEADQUARTERS

Sunday 26 October 2025, 03:25

What was he doing? He was practically slamming his own head against a wall numerous times. Why was it now that he turned into a teenager again, stumbling over himself about a girl? San felt like he was sixteen again, about to tell the first person he liked that he actually liked them. He felt weird.

He felt old, thinking about his sixteen-year-old self, nine years ago. He released a sigh from his lips, looking up at his room’s ceiling. He was practically hanging off the edge of his sofa bed (because when he was younger, he was too edgy for a standard bed and now he was older he was too lazy and sentimental to get rid of it) as he contemplated actually sending the text or not.

With a groan as he sat up, rubbing his face with a hand as his other hand played around with his phone. He was twenty-five now. He shouldn’t be so worked up about a stupid text. He’d done it so many (not that many) times before so why was he concerned over this?

Then he remembered who exactly he would be texting, and he groaned again, flopping back on the bed.

He’d be texting Pyo Kyungri. The girl whose laptop he had placed a bug on not even twenty-four hours ago. The girl who had sent Hongjoong into a small frenzy after she had found two of their gang members as quickly as she did – or maybe he was in a frenzy because she found them on a police file? – and they had spent the next few hours investigating her. When he and Yeosang had heard she was a hacker – right from the source herself – their little plan was more than needed.

San had thanked his lucky stars that the events unfolded as they did, it had made his job so much easier – to plant the bug while Kyungri had excused herself to the bathroom and her friend, whose name he hadn’t actually learnt yet, had been called by her boss to teach Yeosang how to work a coffee machine.

It had been easy. And now San stared his phone, her number already saved, the text already typed and ready to be sent. San couldn’t help himself, he was curious by nature. It didn’t help that she was, in fact, as pretty as her friend had said.

“She’s pretty too, don’t you think? Do you think she’s pretty?” She rested her head in her palms, her gaze lever leaving him. “She’s single too, there’d be no competition to win her over or anything.” San hadn’t meant to let his imagination get the best of him – “Pretty, smart and single. She’s a triple threat right, everything you could need right. Do you like pretty smart girls? Pretty, smart girls? I reckon you’d look great together! I mean, you’re just sat next to each other, and I’m already being attacked by the visuals! Think of the children!” – but the only reason he had blushed was that he had indeed let his imagination get the best of him. He assumed that was one of the reasons why he was so caught up in his head.

San could feel himself blushing as he thought back to the words of the orange-haired girl but shook his head to get rid of the feeling like he was physically shaking the blush from his cheeks. He didn’t know why he was blushing. Blushing! Of all things!

It was times like these that he would have gone to Wooyoung, or Mingi, to try and figure out exactly where his head was. His members, his best friends, always knew how to help him clear his mind – especially when his curiosity got the best of him and created a confusing, jumbled mess of his thoughts. But Wooyoung had been away since last night, given the task of the arms deal, so he hadn’t even been home to be told about Kyungri and her impressive hacker skills, and Mingi was most likely asleep. San wouldn’t want to wake sleep-deprived younger man anyway – even if he did want to, he wouldn’t. Waking Mingi up was like antagonising a bear or something. San wasn’t looking to get mauled because he couldn’t work up the courage to text a girl.

So, San did what he did best. He let himself be curious and finally (after twenty minutes) sent the damn text.

TO: Hacker Girl: Hey there, your overzealous orange-haired friend gave me your number, and I just got out of work so I thought it would be the best time to text in case I forgot in the morning and made the worst mistake of my life – gotta give Jaehyeon something to talk about, don’t we? 😉

THE LOFT

Sunday 26 October 2025, 03:27

“We are so incredibly screwed.”

Chaeyoung was sat on the floor, crossed legs dressed in a set of plaid pyjamas, a towel around her neck as she ate chicken while Kyungri was dying her hair. Kyungri, who had just had her first load of bleach put on, was also in a pair of pyjamas – these ones checked – hummed in agreement.

Gongmyung had passed out a half-hour ago, letting the girls get on with their hair knowing it would take a while. The girls had also decided to scrub through the recordings from their hidden cameras to gather as much information as possible, projecting the video onto the blank wall in front of them.

“So, so extremely screwed.”

“We’ll be fine, stay still,” Kyungri mumbled, pulling the dark brown dye through freshly bleached locks.

“We were seen, held conversation with and even taunted three of the most prolific members of NCT. They know my face! I got up in their faces!”

“Calm down, we weren’t talking to them for more than ten minutes tops. The only features they would really remember are your bright orange hair and your sickly-sweet voice. Which is not your usual voice and we are curren,tly changing your hair.”

“You weren’t looking at them Ri.” Chaeyoung’s voice was calmer now, the video paused on the faces of the three gang members they had spoken to just hours ago. “That red-haired one, Yuta, he hardly said anything. He was just looking at me. He’s definitely got my face committed to memory or something.”

“We don’t have to worry about it now okay, don’t get worked up about it today,” Kyungri told her softly, wanting to comfort her but not wanting to dismiss her fears either. Chaeyoung went to nod but refrained from moving her head, letting out a little hum in agreement as she un-paused the video. They were watching her footage.

She gasped a little, reaching to pause the video again, moving her body suddenly. Kyungri managed not to spill any hair dye when she did so. “Look!” Chaeyoung exclaimed, pointing. “Isn’t that Mr Lover boy from your fun escapade in X-Clusive?”

When Kyungri looked up, she too let out a gasp. Because Chaeyoung was right.

The image was slightly blurry, but his form was distinctive: silver hair, low cut shirt, an array of ear piercings.

“Oh shit.”

“Do you think he saw you?”

“I don’t know!”

“What are you going to do if he did?”

“Well, I'm currently bleaching my hair blonde so.”

The girls settled into silence once again as Kyungri tied up Chaeyoung’s hair and slipped off the gloves.

“Kyungri…” Chaeyoung started, voice low in volume. Kyungri hummed for her to continue, making her way to the bin, getting a piece of chicken on her way back. “Just, have a look at your laptop real quick.” Kyungri’s expression twisted to one of confusion, opening her mouth to ask why but stopping herself as soon as she spotted the serious look in Chaeyoung’s eyes. “I think it may need to be put on charge or something.”

Kyungri made her way over to the desk where her laptop was sat, right where she and Gongmyung had left it to carry out a longer hack. She bit into her piece of chicken as she lent down to take a look at it. Her chewing motion stopped for only a second as she noticed that the webcam light was on, directly recording anything it saw. She didn’t acknowledge it, nodding to herself and looking back to Chaeyoung, “yeah, I think I’m gonna let it sleep for a while.” She said, slamming the lid closed.

Once the lid was closed that the webcam was no longer filming them, Kyungri brought a finger to her lips when Chaeyoung opened her mouth to speak. She then motioned for her to wake Gongmyung up. They couldn’t make themselves any more suspicious, and they couldn’t be sure if the person hacked into her laptop hadn’t separately hacked into the laptop’s microphone. “How did it get this low?”

Chaeyoung did as instructed, shaking Gongmyung awake – “Where even is your charger?” – as Kyungri practically ran to her room to get a whiteboard and pen. She was back in the room in under a minute writing furiously on her whiteboard.

WE’VE BEEN BUGGED.

“It might be in the kitchen, can you check?” Kyungri asked, keeping up with the little act she and Chaeyoung had started. Chaeyoung indeed went to the kitchen, but not for the charger (because the laptop had been connected to the entire time) but for another one of Kyungri’s laptops.

Gongmyung opened his eyes with a groan, his words cut off by Kyungri’s hand before he could get them out. She held up the whiteboard for him to read, shouting back to Chaeyoung in the kitchen, “Can you grab me a coke or something while you're there?”

Chaeyoung came back with an empty glass, – “Here you go, one glass of coke and one laptop charger!” – swapping over the other laptop for the whiteboard. While Kyungri made sure all the files from the closed laptop were stored on the hard drive of the new laptop, Chaeyoung started writing on the whiteboard.

ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?

Kyungri closed the new laptop and nodded.

Chaeyoung dropped the glass, the sound of it almost echoing through the loft. “Oh shit!”

Kyungri had picked up the old laptop and promptly hit it against the side of the wooden table as hard as she could and then proceeded to snap it in half to the best of her ability before letting it drop to the floor to become a new floor mat.

The three of them shred a glance, not wanting to speak in case it wasn’t just the laptop that had been hacked into. Gongmyung gently took the whiteboard from Chaeyoung’s grip.

I’LL GO RUN A SEARCH ON THE SERVERS.

Both girls simply nodded at the man, watching as he left to go downstairs before making their own way to the bathroom. As if the morning wasn’t crazy enough, Kyungri’s phone let out the familiar chime indicating a new text.

FROM: Unknown Number: Hey there, your overzealous orange-haired friend gave me your number, and I just got out of work so I thought it would be the best time to text in case I forgot in the morning and made the worst mistake of my life – gotta give Jaehyeon something to talk about, don’t we? 😉

FROM: Unknown Number: Uh, it’s San btw

Chaeyoung took one look at the text and let out a laugh, so loud, and powerful Kyungri was almost worried about her organs.

“Of course! Perfect timing MISTER SHADY BUT SURPRISINGLY HOT TATTOOIST!” Chaeyoung shouted at the phone.

“Are you… okay?” Kyungri asked tentatively.

Chaeyoung looked up at her with puppy-dog eyes that made her look like a child instead of an adult. “I think the fumes are getting to me. We should probably wash your bleach out now.”

“But what about the…” Kyungri motioned to her phone and then vaguely around the room.

Chaeyoung simply shrugged. “There isn’t anything electronic in the bathroom, it’s a safe haven.” She giggled, eyes widening at the sudden revelation before she grabbed Kyungri’s wrist and pulled her to the bathroom. “Plus it’s like almost four in the morning, he can’t expect you to reply instantly, let him think you’re sleeping.”

“But I’ve opened it, he’ll see that I’ve read it.”

“It’s your fault for putting read receipts on then.”

Kyungri grimaced a little but nodded in agreement anyway for Chaeyoung was correct, as per usual. “Help me!” She shined like a child, almost jumping up and down on the spot. She wasn’t sure why she was so worked up about it. It was just a text, she’d texted people before.

“Just reply.” Chaeyoung deadpanned, “But do it after I wash your hair out, it’ll burn your hair off if you leave it too long.”

“That’s a myth, and you know it,” Kyungri replied but knelt down to bend over into the shower anyway. It took just over fifteen minutes to get everything out, and when Kyungri straightened up, she was appreciative she could finally stretch her back again.

“I am so unbelievably grateful my mother is a hairdresser,” Chaeyoung mumbled, grabbing the pile of discarded foil strips and throwing them in the bathroom bin. “It’s always a good thing to know how to properly bleach someone’s hair. You look great, I don’t even think you’ll need a second coat.”

“I bless the world for your mother.”

“We still have to tone it though, get the orange ends out for good.”

“You’re good to me, but I thought we were cutting it?”

“Oh yeah!” Chaeyoung smiled, playfully flicking Kyungri’s own hair into her face. “We’ll still tone it anyway.”

A knock on the door started both girls a little. Chaeyoung let out a shallow laugh as Kyungri called out a small “come in,” watching as Gongmyung’s head popped around the door.

“They accessed one of the servers, I managed to lock them out, but whoever it was most likely knows where we are now.”

“Oh shit. We have to get out then. Like out of Seoul. Like out of Korea.” Chaeyoung rambled, getting louder as she continued. Kyungri placed a hand over her mouth, rubbing her other hand up and down Chaeyoung’s forearm in order to calm the younger girl down.

“We don’t have to leave Korea, we don’t even know who it was.”

“All the more reason to leave the country! What if it was NCT? Or ATZ? We’re gonna get shot in our sleep!”

Kyungri looked back up at Gongmyung to help her reassure a now crying Chaeyoung, but she was met with a serious and solemn expression. “It would be best if you probably weren’t in the country anymore.” He spoke slowly, moving more into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “I can lead them away to another city, but if you took them overseas, they’ll be baffled for sure. It wouldn’t be more than a couple of days.” He concluded, taking out his phone to look at the next flights out of Seoul.

“We can’t just leave the country! We all have actual jobs to do, you know!”

“I’m your boss, think of it as a job.”

Kyungri had to admit, Gongmyung had a point there. Her eyes flickered back to Chaeyoung. “She has two other jobs, though.”

Chaeyoung gently removed Kyungri’s hand from her mouth. “Working at the hairdressers with my mum isn’t a real job –”

“You get paid for it.”

“– and my boss at the café can’t deny me the two weeks of paid leave I have built up!”

“We can’t leave the country!”

“Why not? It would both be safer for us and would scramble their was of getting to us!”

Kyungri was at a loss for words. Why couldn’t they leave the country for a few days? She shrugged to herself. “I’ll let my aunt know I have a long job and won’t be home for a couple of weeks then.”

Chaeyoung squealed.

“How’s Bora Bora sound?” Gongmyung asked, “the plane leaves in twenty hours, you can be done in under twenty hours, right?”

“I can have us done in two!” Chaeyoung grinned. “Just need a couple more minutes for my hair dye, and then we’re cutting Ri’s hair, but I can have bags packed for a couple of days in Bora Bora done in an hour!”

“Don’t rush yourself, get it done and get some sleep. I’ll buy you guys breakfast later.” Gongmyung smiled, purchasing tickets for Bora Bora there and then. “We need to be at the airport four hours before departure so maybe rush a little.” He said, promptly leaving.

They were going to Bora Bora.

“This is exciting! You might as well tell San you’re leaving the country! That’s a good way to start a conversation!” Chaeyoung winked before switching the shower on again to wash out her hair dye.

TO: Jaehyeon’s Crush: Sorry for the late reply! I’m just a little busy trying to get everything together before I can head for the airport hehe ^.^

Kyungri practically slapped herself in the face after the text was sent. Hehe? What the fuck was that? She was so incredibly fucked.

TO: Jaehyeon’s Crush: I might not be available in a while, so apologies in advance!

Things were getting worse.

TO: Jaehyeon’s Crush: but wow you finished late then!

That was better.

“Hey!” Chaeyoung shouted from under the water. “Stop texting your tattooist boyfriend and be a good person and help me with my hair!”

Kyungri shook her head with a smile before locking her phone, putting it on the floor (subsequently the big mistake of the day) before making her way to Chaeyoung who let go of the shower hose and left them in a drenched bathroom.

Her phone was going to need some rice, that was for sure.

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tvmoviechristmas · 4 years

Photo

This Might As Well Happen: A Comprehensive Diary of Christmas Con

In early October, I was discussing the upcoming BravoCon, a celebration of Bravolebrities with my baby sister, Kerri, who was shocked nobody in my family wanted to go. I was trying to explain to her that it was both super popular and super expensive, when suddenly she interrupted with an idea.

“You know what would be crazy,” Kerri announces, “What if Hallmark had a convention? Hallmark Con! Would you go?”

"Kerri, they would hold Christmas Con in like Missouri, where Hallmark headquarters are,” I noted pretty quickly, “And I’m not paying to get a plane ticket to pay to see Lacey Chabert in passing. I’m not taking the time off work for that trip, that’s insane.”

“But it would match your brand!” she exclaimed, “You love Hallmark!”

“I don’t love Hallmark enough to get on a plane, but it probably won’t happen for years anyway.”

A week later Christmas Con was announced. It was taking place fifteen minutes away from where I live. For a second, I genuinely believed the universe had the ability to fuck with us personally.

The idea of buying a ticket for Christmas Con was a passing idea in my head, but it was not an item that was on the top of my to-do list because I had tons of other things to worry about. I was working full-time and taking certificate classes at night. I was in the middle of moving apartments and trying to sort through. organize and pack all the stuff. I was desperately trying to get my older sister to answer my texts about whether or not the facial stabbing that occurred in It: Chapter Two was handled realistically because she is a doctor and why become a doctor if not to answer my questions about injuries in pop culture?

Things were crazy, and Christmas Con was just not a priority. I figured I had time to decide if I really wanted to go anyway. Christmas Con would not have that much of a demand, right?

Wrong. Christmas Con sold out in minutes. I figured I could potentially shoot my shot on obtaining a press pass (I do have three fans and a write-up in the Chicago Tribune!), but once again, I was like “this can wait for a couple of days”. There were other things to do!

It could not wait for my sister, Kerri, though. There was nothing she wanted more than for me to go to Christmas Con. So she went on Instagram and DMed them questions about how to get a press pass before sending me what felt like a billion texts on how she promised the Christmas Con organizers that I was going to send them an e-mail to get a press pass that day and that she was going to pray that I get one because it was my destiny because it was fifteen minutes away and I run a made-for-TV Christmas movie blog. Do you want to fight destiny, Kace? Do you?

I guess I did not. So I e-mailed in my request, was somehow approved for a media pass, and subsequently lied to a billion people about what my plans for the weekend of November 8th were because nobody I worked with needed to know I was going to Christmas Con.

But that’s where I was going. As Kerri told me, “you’re a Christmas movie expert! That’s where you are supposed to be!”

FRIDAY

4:08 PM - According to the last minute e-mail I received from the Christmas Con organizers, the convention is supposed to open to the media at 4:30 PM. However, one of my two talents is getting hopelessly lost going anywhere, so I leave my apartment at around 3:40 PM and arrive at the convention around 4:00 PM. The parking lot looks deserted when I arrive and I briefly wonder if I am at the right location, but then I spot some ladies seemingly tailgating the event in winter wear. This spectacle gives me the inkling that I am probably close to where I am supposed to be.

I figure that I might as well enter the con sign-in area a little earlier because I have a vague worry that the media line might be messy; however, the process of checking in is generally quick and painless. It probably helps that there was absolutely no line whatsoever. Even though I am terrified that someone to tell me that they made a mistake and it is ludicrous that a tumblr blog is getting a press pass to anything, I am actually given a media badge and waved into the hall.

I check my phone. It is only 4:08 PM. Immediately, I am frightened at the prospect that some security guard is going to yell at me for being in the convention area early, but after taking a deep breath I just decided to roll with it. It’s Christmas Con! We are all supposed to love each other! That’s the Hallmark way!

As I walk into the convention center, “Sleigh Ride” begins to blast on the sound system. Since “Sleigh Ride” is my least favorite Christmas song, my guard is immediately raised. Hopefully, the music choice is not a harbinger of bad things to come at Christmas Con.

4:25 PM - I decide to mill about in the empty autograph area to get an idea of what Hallmark “celebrities” are going to be signing at the event. While attempting to get a picture of an Erin Krakow banner, I hear a door burst open and someone shouting “Lace! Lace! Lace!” from behind me.

Immediately, I become paranoid, scared that some con organizer is yelling “Kace! Kace! Kace!” because they know I am not supposed to be in the autograph area before the place opens. Maybe they also read my blog, and realized that maybe they do not want someone who doesn’t fully buy into Hallmark’s conservative message roaming around their event.

After ten excruciating seconds, my brain clicks back into place and I turn around to realize that it is just Jonathan Bennett having a dramatic Mean Girls reunion with Lacey Chabert before the event starts. Sometimes sneaking into areas you shouldn’t be in is worth it, even if it does spike your anxiety. That’s how you get exclusive content.

4:31 PM - As the clock hits 4:30 PM and the VIP pass holders storm in, I become a little more comfortable at the notion of hanging around Christmas Con and start to roam around the hall. The vendor area is a lot smaller than I expected and I did not expect it to be all that big in the first place. In total, there are about 20 booths set up, and a solid chunk of them aren’t even selling anything. The items that are being sold in the hall are not exactly what I expected either. One vendor is selling what seems to be a bunch of top hats. Another is selling cooking sauces. Surprisingly, there are only a couple of vendors actually selling Christmas decorations. Earlier in the week I had withdrawn cash from the bank with the idea that I might be able to buy something while I was at Christmas Con, but *spoiler alert* my cash balance stays the same throughout the entire three days of the event.

The centerpiece of the vendor area is a photobooth set up by Hallmark where you can take various kitschy pictures (in a snowglobe! by a fireplace!) while muted advertisements for their upcoming original movie slate and streaming service play in the background. It also is an area where you can look at a hilarious collection of framed screenshots and promotional photos of Hallmark’s crop of “celebrities”, which is my personal favorite part of the experience. Nothing says Christmas like a framed photo of Candace Cameron Bure peeking around a door!

4:43 PM - As the convention starts to warm up, a lot of the “celebrities” are just walking around the vendor area . Nikki DeLoach jumps into a snowglobe picture with some random fans. Holly Robinson Peete films the Hallmark booth on her phone, while Rachel Boston tries to take a picture of the giant Christmas Con banner hanging over the autograph area. I am sure that this is the part of the experience is supposed to make the VIP experience worth it. You pay a lot of money to come in a half hour early, and maybe a Hallmark “celebrity” will walk by you as you take a picture holding a “I Love Hallmark Movies!” pillow.

5:12 PM - The crowd starts to pour into the vendor hall as Christmas Con officially opens to the public and I instantly become a little scared. The Christmas Con crowd is not my crowd. I watch made-for-TV Christmas movies for the snark. They watch made-for-TV Christmas movies for the sentiment. I was genuinely dismayed when my mom bought me a Hallmark movie sweatshirt. They were theirs with pride. I get hives at the idea of paying money to take a selfie with anyone. They are all here to wait in line to take pictures with Lacey Chabert. Their idea of Hallmark-based small talk is discussing with each other how glad they are that Alicia Witt is here because they loved A Very Merry Mix-Up. My idea of of Hallmark-based small talk is ranting about how It: Chapter 2 could air on Hallmark if you really wanted it to. The plotlines are similar!

No, seriously! A woman in her early 40s, successful in her career but with the Wrong Guy, returns to her hometown after a tragic event to settle unfinished business. There she meets a friend from her childhood (played by a blandly attractive CW actor) who has been in love with her all along, and whose entire character is based around this love. He works with his hands and can build things! There are some missteps but eventually they kiss once and live happily ever after. On the sidelines,t here is a black friend mainly there to provide exposition and a gay friend who the writers aren’t really explicit about being gay. You put in some snow in the background and you can air it on Hallmark on Christmas Eve! It is uncanny!

Nobody at Christmas Con would care though, so I figure that this would be the time to check out the empty panel area. Right in front of the panel stage are a bunch of entries for a gingerbread house decorating contest that was being held on Sunday.

Yeah, the Christmas Con people are not my crowd.

5:30 PM - “Sleigh Ride” plays for the second time and I begin to think that maybe Christmas Con is against me.

5:51 PM - A lady sits down next to me in the panel area, which is still basically deserted. “Did you expect there to be more?” she asks me.

I flash my media badge at her. “Honestly, I didn’t pay for this so I can’t be disappointed.”

“I’m just happy I didn’t fly in from North Carolina for this because that would feel like a real waste.”

I just hum noncommittally in response.

5:57 PM - “There’s no bad Hallmark movie!” I overhear a woman telling a reporter.

Well, that person isn’t reading my blog.

6:07 PM - Christmas Con is supposed to officially start with a tree lighting ceremony. The crowd gathers around in tree in the autograph area to see the event, but for the most part all you can see is people trying to take pictures.

Santa comes out with little fanfare and no announcement. It is a stark difference to Jonathan Bennett, who comes in with a huge announcement that includes a list of all of his credentials (there aren’t many, he’s only been in one Hallmark movie). According to the Christmas Con materials, he is hosting the event. I am not exactly sure what that means but apparently it involves him leading the crowd in a call-and-response version of “Deck the Halls”.

“It’s what this is all about!” he tells the crowd after they oblige him.

After that bit of hyping, Bennett decides to introduce the true star of the convention and so-called “Queen of Christmas”, Lacey Chabert. They do not waste any time after she is brought out and they light the tree. It’s hard to feel magical about all of this because it is impossible to see.

Bennett’s hosting tells me that we’re having a good time though. “Hey Santa,” he asks, “Did you know New Jersey could be so much fun??”

6:51 PM - After the tree lighting ceremony, I go back to the panel area to finish my soda before bouncing. My escape plans are dashed by a staff worker promises me that they are going to start the trivia game soon. I did not ask her if it was, but I feel obligated to stay now so to not disappoint her.

7:01 PM - Before the trivia game starts I glance at the stage and realize that one of the podcasters is livestreaming the room to their Instagram feeds.

“Oh fuck,” I mutter to myself, “Are they taking a picture of us?”

“Yes, they want to see how bored we are,” the lady sitting next to me responds.

7:06 PM - The trivia game starts about fifteen minutes after the staffer promised me it would. It promises to be full of talent from “smash hit Hallmark podcasts”, a concept that sounds fake to me but is real enough to Christmas Con.

I make it about fifteen minutes in before I realize that watching other people answer “True or False” questions about Christmas isn’t incredibly fun when you don’t care all that much about the Christmas holiday itself. So I decide to duck out, hoping I don’t look like a complete jackass for doing so.

7:30 PM - Before I leave for the night, I take a lap around the autograph area to see how its going. It is going incredibly well for Lacey Chabert who has a line so long that the convention organizers announce that she will be staying 45 minutes after the event closes for the night. Only Lacey Chabert is making that courtesy though, which seems fair because nobody else is commanding much of a line.

In terms of bang for your buck, meeting up with “celebrity” who is not Lacey Chabert seems like the smart choice. The other guests seem to be having somewhat long conversations with the one or two people waiting in line for them, and if conventions like these are feeling like you are close to celebrities, isn’t that the experience you want?

A part of me feels guilty that these “celebrities” are just sitting around not doing much of anything, and it almost made me want to spend money on meeting them just so they would have something to do. Then I think about it for three seconds, and remember that 1) I hate meeting “celebrities” and 2) I do not make enough to justify spending money on lifting the self-esteem of “celebrity” strangers. So I leave that idea behind and leave the building for the night.

—

SATURDAY

11:30 AM - My Saturday morning class lets out early, so I make it to the convention center about an hour earlier than expected. It is much more crowded today. I’m assuming it’s because there is going to be more to do aside from watching a crowd watch a tree light up. My plan is to just park myself in the panel room all day.

I ask a staffer where media is supposed to line-up for panels. She tells me she has no idea, but she will ask and let me know shortly. She leaves and I watch her talk to people for a couple of minutes. She doesn’t turn around. I keep waiting and waiting before I realize that she is never coming back. I wasn’t getting answers, but I settle for buying a $6.00 cappuccino instead. I’ll figure it out.

11:42 AM - The first panel of the day is billed as a reunion of former All My Children stars Melissa Claire Egan and Cameron Mathison. I find myself sitting next to a family who are very excited at this prospect.

“We are going to be breathing the same air Cameron Mathison is,” the teen girl cries in excitement to a woman I would assume is her mother.

“In a way, we already are,” the possible mother excitedly whispers back.

As they continue to vibrate in excitement, “Sleigh Ride” plays in the convention center for the third time and I groan to myself. At least someone’s happy.

11:56 AM - Cameron Mathison has been spotted by the family and excitement abounds, but not for his shirt.

“Shouldn’t he be festive?” the possible mother asks about his all black ensemble.

“Well, he has to take a lot of pictures.” the teen notes back.

12:05 PM - All of the panels are hosted by the co-hosts of Bubbly Sesh, Hallmark’s official podcast. They bounce on to the stage before telling the crowd how excited they are to be there.

“We are with our tribe. Our team. A room full of Hallmark fans!” they say to a crowd of cheers.

I also cheer. Mainly, because I finally got the Wi-Fi to work on my laptop after a half hour of fruitless efforts to maintain a connection. But they don’t need to know that.

12:07 PM - I learn a lot about Cameron Mathison during the first few minutes of his panel. Apparently, he is the new host of Hallmark’s Home & Family talk show. He also was diagnosed with cancer in the past year, but is now in remission. And he is the apparent “king” of Hallmark Christmas movies, according to the BubblySesh podcast hosts, but that last fact seems debatable to me.

Mathison also claims during the panel that starring in The Christmas Club, an upcoming Hallmark holiday movie, is what made him realize that he needed to push his doctor for a cancer diagnosis. So Hallmark can apparently save lives.

12:14 PM - Before the Q&A starts, the BubblySesh podcast hosts tell the audience to keep the questions free of the “nitty gritty”. The want everyone to stick to Christmas and careers! It’s a real bummer because it means I have to scrap my plans to ask everyone what would happen if you got stabbed in the cheek, as that would probably be too gritty.

The Q&A stays relatively tame throughout. The most exciting it gets is when an audience member brings up the idea of doing a Hallmark All-Stars movie. The lady sitting next to me is excited about that concept! I wonder if Hallmark would have the budget to pull off a Love, Actually. I doubt it.

Every panel wraps up with the BubblySesh announcing that “it’s time for the BubblySesh Pop Culture Quiz!!!”. This quiz is less of a quiz and more just general Christmas based questions with a grating announcement beforehand. This announcement would become more grating every time I heard it (and it was at nearly every panel). At the time though, I wasn’t aware how haunted I would be by this “game”. It was still early in the day.

1:07 PM - Next up on the day’s schedule is a scarcely attended panel about Christmas podcasts, a podcast genre that is apparently more bustling than I would have ever expected. All the panelists (of which there are way too many) are enthusiastic about how well their podcasts are doing and give the crowd advice on how to start their own because, as they say, you can never have too many Christmas podcasts.

I never expected to get a motivational speech about how I could start a Christmas podcast if only I believed in myself, but then again I never expected to be at Christmas Con.

2:10 PM - The marquee panel of Christmas Con is up next, which is a Mean Girls reunion featuring Lacey Chabert and Jonathan Bennet. This panel is less of a Hallmark panel and more of a Mean Girls panel, and it takes all of five seconds for “so fetch” to be referenced.

The most Mean Girls detail of the panel though is how Jonathan Bennett latches on to Lacey Chabert. He spends the entire panel looking for every opportunity to compliment “Lacey Chabert”, and he always uses her full name.

“Everyone on the Mean Girls set was constantly cracking up because Lacey Chabert was so funny.”

“Lacey Chabert cooked everyone a Thanksgiving meal while we were shooting Mean Girls, and she is a great cook!”

“Lacey Chabert is the sweetest.”

I half wait for him to announce how one time Lacey Chabert punched him in the face, and it was awesome. I have no idea why he thinks this hypeman routine is necessary, since Lacey Chabert has been commanding the longest autograph lines by a sizable margin and the hardest question she gets from the audience is “Why are you so nice?” I do wish I had a Jonathan Bennett in my life though. It must feel nice to be constantly complimented. I guess that’s why people aim to be the Queen Bee though, isn’t it?

2:32 PM - In what is clearly supposed to be Christmas Con’s buzziest moment, Daniel Franzese, who played Damian in Mean Girls comes up on stage to start delivering candygrams to surprise of the audience and the panel. Lacey Chabert starts to cry, while Jonathan Bennett screams.

After a couple more questions, Bennett tells everyone to take out their phones and begins to perform the opening of the “Jingle Bell Rock” dance to the room. Another potentially buzzy moment from a convention that desperately needs some.

3:08 PM - Up next is an odd assortment of a panel featuring Nikki DeLoach, Alicia Witt, Holly Robinson Peete and Chad Michael Murray’s southern drawl. The last one confused me because I was pretty sure Chad Michael Murray had not spoken with a pronounced southern drawl before. I text my younger sister, Tara, a noted One Tree Hill fan if he had a drawl on the show and she tells me he did not. So why is he suddenly Southern? He also seems to have a hatred for chairs, and spends a majority of the panel trying to desperately slide off his.

3:23 PM - During the routine question about Christmas traditions, Nikki DeLoach gives an emotional answer about her young son requiring multiple heart surgeries and that her experience in the hospital taught her the importance of charity and giving back to the community during the holiday season.

Somewhat hilariously after that, everyone else on the panel announces that of course they are going to be doing more charity work this holiday season. Are they being genuine? Who can say. But you certainly can’t give a rote answer about how your favorite tradition is decorating the tree after a fellow panelist tears up about her experience giving toilet paper to the less fortunate and how it impacted her life. Nobody wants to look like a jerk.

4:07 PM - The last panel of the day features Jackee and Melissa Joan Hart, and the room is barely empty. As someone would inform me the following day, “it’s because they are more Lifetime than Hallmark Christmas movie stars”.

Lack of Hallmark “celebrities” aside, it is a great capper to the day. Hart provides a decent amount of insight on the made-for-TV movie making process, and Jackee is just a fun personality to watch.

The panel concludes with someone asking what’s a fun fact that someone wouldn’t know about them. Jackee answers that she is still having sex.

Good for her. It is a solid note to end the day on, as I decide to skip out on the upcoming Ugly Sweater Contest to go back home. Six hours of Christmas Con is enough Christmas Con for the day.

—

SUNDAY

8:31 AM - Early in the morning, there is a press line available for the media to attend if they have any questions for the Hallmark “celebrities”. I decide to skip that because the only question I need answers to is what happens when you get stabbed in the cheek (my older sister still has not gotten back to me on that), and I don’t think anyone who stars in a Christmas movie is going to have a satisfactory answer.

As I lay in bed, I briefly consider not going back to Christmas Con at all, but then I finally get a response from the super about the cockroach I found in my bedroom the night before. Turns out they are bugbombing the place, and I need to be out of the apartment for five hours.

So back to Christmas Con I go.

10:30 AM - Christmas Con Day 3 is a weird place. Lacey Chabert is no longer the celebrity commanding the longest line, because former General Hospital star Ryan Paevey is there and his line is an hour and a half long. I am informed it is because he is hot.

Even stranger is the fact that there is a twenty minute line to get a picture with a snowman balloon. I know there’s not much to do at Christmas Con but that seemed to be pushing the bounds of reason to me. But I suppose these are the new rules of Christmas Con.

10:52 AM - The people in the VIP line for the Danica McKellar and Rachel Boston panel are give me a rundown of how the autograph queue works.

“You have to have your priorities in order!” they tell me before explaining that they got to the con at 9 AM to make sure to get their photo with Ryan Paevey. “He’s so handsome!!!”

They also explain that they find their VIP passes useful in snagging all the autographs their hearts desire. I say that that’s good because the VIP access the media badge allows me to have just seems useless for panels, which have never reached capacity.

“Yes, they have!” a lady tells me, “There are always people hanging out back past the barrier trying to look in!”

I don’t have the heart to inform her that those people are just in line waiting for food and that as someone who has attended every single panel, I have always noticed empty seats.

Later on in the conversation, I try to express concern that some of the panels have been too random a selection of “celebrities” who have no chemistry with each other and make for an awkward time. The group disagrees with my assessment.

“Actually, they are all great friends. Did you not hear Jonathan Bennett call it Christmas Camp earlier? Do you follow him on Instagram? He’s been playing pranks on Lacey Chabert! It’s hilarious!”

Have I said that Christmas Con is not my crowd?

11:02 AM - Before the panels for the day start, “Sleigh Ride” plays for the fourth time. Apparently, no Christmas Con day can start without it.

11:16 AM - The panel line-up for the day starts with a panel with Danica McKellar and Rachel Boston. Someone informs them that they always have chemistry with their leading men, a fact which is news to me, a person who watched both McKellar act through one of the worst on screen kisses of all time in one of her June Wedding movies and Boston *mwah* her way through Ice Sculpture Christmas.

“We have kissed most of the men here,” Boston noted in response before listing the con guests she’s done movies with throughout her time on Hallmark. There’s one person she realizes that she and McKellar have yet to kiss though. “Not Ryan Paevey.”

“He’s next!” McKellar decides. That gets a decent response from the crowd, because he’s good looking!

11:48 AM - “Sleigh Ride” starts up again as the panel closes. It has now played five times, which is five times too many in my opinion.

11:59 AM - The people sitting behind me at the writer’s panel are already preparing for next year’s Christmas Con. It goes to show you that not everyone hates being here. It’s a mixed response!

The writer’s panel is probably one of the more interesting ones because it’s one of the few about the process of creating made-for-TV Christmas movies. Of course, it means that barely anybody is there.

The few of us who manage to attend the panel have the chance to snag a “I Love Hallmark Christmas Movies” wristband from one of the writers. She gives me two.

1:49 PM - After the writer’s panel is supposed to be the gingerbread contest judging, which I figure is a good enough time to take one last lap around the vendor hall.

Ryan Paevey is still commanding an hour and a half line for autographs, but thankfully people are no longer waiting to take a picture with a balloon snowman. The booth selling Christmas romance novels has gone out of stock, but they give me their last advertising card. The outside world has discovered that nobody is monitoring the screen that displays #ChristmasCon2019 tweets so I spend a few minutes watching the spam tweets they are sending it’s way. It’s beginning to look a lot like Jeffrey Epstein was murdered here on the Christmas Con big screen!

One booth is trying to sell one of the “I Love Hallmark Christmas Movies!” wristbands for two dollars each, which is a total scam because other booths are giving them away for free. So I step in and give one of the ones I got at the writer’s panel to the elderly woman who is about to buy one. Those vendors probably do not like me, but I did not come to Christmas Con to make friends. I came to escape my bugbombed apartment.

Speaking of, I am desperate to go home but a phone call informs me that I can’t go home until 4:00 PM. Two more hours of Christmas Con for me it is.

2:06 PM - After the gingerbread contest, but before the start of the When Calls the Heart panel a bell choir, who is not on the schedule, randomly performs. As I sit there wishing my apartment was bugfree so I could sleep in it, I hear loud and raucous cheers start up. I turn to the person next to me and ask if they know where the noise is coming from, and they tell me that there is a wine glass convention happening next door.

As the party at the wine glass convention seems to rage on, I wonder if that’s where I should be instead. It would certainly keep me awake, and well, I broke some of my wine glasses during my move. It could be helpful!

2:18 PM - The When Calls the Heart panel is incredibly confusing to sit through for many reasons. First of all, I don’t watch the show, so every plot point mentioned just leaves me nodding as I try to pretend I am an avid viewer who cares. Second of all, I keep zoning out and zoning back in to the panel and every time I do it, something weird seems to be happening. Sometimes Paul Greene is trying to lead a sing-a-long of “White Christmas”. Sometimes Jack Wagner is wondering what the plot of When Calls the Heart actually is.

The most confusing aspect of the panel though is Greene’s button situation. Apparently, he thought that Christmas Con was the place to forget to button up. Maybe he’s trying to keep up with Ryan Paevey. Did you hear that he’s hot?

3:07 PM - The final panel of the event is the alleged “Hunks of Hallmark” panel. However, it is announced that Ryan Paevey is too hunky to be there, because he has a seemingly endless autograph queue and that’s where the real convention money is anyway. So we have to settle for Jesse Metcalfe and Andrew Walker, who has just arrived from JuiceCon. This fact delights the Q&Aers, and in what is supposed to be a hilarious bit we are all in on, everyone brings up the fact that Andrew Walker has a juice business when they come to the microphone.

At this juncture, I feel like a kid sitting in their final class of the day waiting for the bell to ring. Sure, we might be having fun bringing up juice all the time, but also it’s time to go home. And after one final joint scream of “It’s time for the BubblySesh Pop Culture Quiz!!!”, we are free to leave.

3:52 PM - The panel closes and immediately “Sleigh Ride” queues up for the sixth time of the convention. If ever there was a sign for me to go home, it is that.

3:59 PM - As I drive the fifteen minutes back to my apartment, I call my mother. She asks me if I had fun at Christmas Con, and I genuinely don’t know how to answer.

“It was a thing that I did,” I ramble. “It was an experience. I think I would have been mad if I paid for any part of it or if I had to travel further than fifteen minutes. But I didn’t. And even the parking was free, so all I lost is time, which doesn’t account for much really, I guess.. And well, it’s a story. Plus, it’s my brand.”

And who am I to deny a universe that wants me to live up to my brand in new weird, free-to-me ways? If Christmas Con was good for anything, I guess it was that.

#christmas con #other treats

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beautiful-aravis · 5 years

Text

Out Of Spoons 3/?

Authors note: Thank you guys for being patient - I started this series last September and mid October my mother was diagnosed with cancer and she passed the last week of November so I haven't felt like writing. Hopefully you will be able to fall back in and enjoy this chapter. Much love all of you

---

The bar was nice, upscale and clean but still crowded. Steve, Sam and Bucky went to grab a drink before settling in at the pool table while Natasha led (Yn) and Wanda to a table, a round of drinks soon following. (Yn) eyed her drink for a moment before taking a sip. One wouldn’t be an issue this early in the night.

“That guy over there is checking you out, (Yn),” Natasha said from behind her glass, eyes flicking to a man at the bar. (Yn) laughed and shook her head.

“No I think he’s looking at you, or maybe Steve’s ass...” (Yn) tilted her head to Steve standing behind her, earning her a laugh from both Natasha and Wanda.

“Maybe, (Yn), maybe.” Nat downed the last few sips of her drink. “Shall we dance ladies?” Wanda immediately stood and waved her arm beckoning Sam over.

(Yn) hesitated and finally shook her head. “I’ll run out of spoons before we get halfway through the night,” she spoke into Natasha’s ear. Natasha didn’t say another word, only nodded with a smile watching (Yn) make her way to the bar alone.

Bucky watched (Yn) from his spot at the pool table. Steve glanced up from setting up his shot and smirked. “Checking out the new girl huh? Thought you didn’t want anything to do with her.” He hit the ball with the cue sending balls scattering on the table.

“Something is just off,” Bucky shrugged and took his shot sinking a striped ball.

“She Nat’s friend. Nat never brings people around so just... try to be pleasant?” Steve pleaded watching Bucky set up his second shot. There was a crack and a thunk as the cue ball hit the yellow striped ball sinking it into the pocket. Bucky looked over at Steve but caught a man walking up to (Yn) out of the corner of his eye. He stopped, watching their interaction as the man nodded to the dance floor holding his hand out for (Yn) to take. Bucky frowned as he saw her decline once, twice, three times. “Guy can’t take a hint,” he muttered setting his pool cue down.

“Bucky, no bar fights tonight,” Steve warned and Bucky grinned back over his shoulder.

“No promises old man!”

Bucky walked up and stood a few steps behind (Yn) waiting for the man sitting beside her to notice him. When he finally made eye contact he visibly swallowed. Bucky raised one eyebrow and nodded his head, signaling the man that it was time to leave.

(Yn) looked at the man confused at his change in demeanor but relieved as he made to leave. “Uh have a nice night ma’am,” he stammered and left.

“Well that was odd,” (Yn) said under her breath sitting forward in her seat instead of sideways as before so she could speak with the man without appearing rude. Bucky watched from a few feet away, swirling his glass of whisky before taking the seat the man was in before.

“What are you doing over here at the bar? Thought girls usually wanted to stay on the dance floor,” Bucky smirked looking down at his glass of whiskey. “Always see the girls on a man’s arm or dancing together in groups these days.” He mused before looking over to (Yn).

(Yn) looked at Bucky before craining her neck to look at the dance floor. “Yeah, I cant argue with that. I mean, I love dancing...it just doesn’t usually love me.” (Yn)s voice trailed off as she took a sip of her drink. The truth was she didn’t know how long she’d last on the floor. The risk was often more trouble than the payoff and she wanted to be able to last the entire night Natasha had planned. Explaining herself and her situation usually ended in too many questions, too much pity, and too many “you have such a great attitude” comments. Better to let unasked questions to unanswered and let Bucky think she was mysterious than risk over sharing

Unfortunately, at that moment Natasha returned to refresh her drink dragging Steve along with her.

“(Yn)! Come join us for a dance! Steve, be a gentleman will you? (Yn) hasn’t had a partner all night!” She winked at you before poor blushing Steve offered her his hand.

“Would you like a dance?” He asked, glancing quickly to Bucky sitting nursing his drink.

(Yn) hesitated but Natasha gave her a gentle push from behind whispering she’d watch her drink. “A dance would be nice, just take it easy on me, I’m a bit of a klutz,” she tried to make light of her situation but Steve was too gracious to let her get away with it.

“I’m sure you’ll be the one making me look like a fool, miss,” he said gently leading (Yn) to the dance floor.

Natasha and Bucky sat in silence, watching the pair walk away. Bucky watched how she walked, favoring her left leg? Right shoulder up and guarded. Very slight limp.

“What’s her deal?” He finally asked Natasha, eyes never leaving (Yn) even as she began to dance with Steve. Natasha’s move was calculated, knowing Steve would dance more formally. A hand on (Yn)s waist would help stabilize her if she needed it, her hand on his shoulder and in his hand would minimize her risk of a fall and an injury.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Barnes,” Nat took a sip of her drink avoiding eye contact.

“Mhmm sure,” Bucky huffed. “I know you can see she’s at least got a mild injury or two. Plus she’s staying at the tower for a weekend. Is she being abused? Are you trying to help her?”

“Look, It’s not my place to say. If she wants to tell you she will.” Natasha said firmly.

Bucky grunted and downed the rest of his whiskey. He turned in his chair to watch (Yn) dance with Steve. She held onto him with a death grip until he surprised her with a twirl and a dip, coaxing a laugh out of her. Her grimace lasted only a second but Bucky caught it.

“I think I’ll go cut in,” Bucky said as he walked away, Natasha’s eyes following him.

“Bucky, don’t interrogate her,” Nat called out after him but her warning fell on deaf ears.

Bucky watched (Yn) and Steve until the music reached a lull. Clearing his throat to get their attention he gave Steve a nod and flicked his eyes to (Yn). “Mind if I —“ Bucky let his voice trail off while extending his hand to (Yn).

Steve eyed Bucky warily from over (Yn)'s head unsure of his friend's intentions while (yn) looked over her shoulder at Bucky stunned. Bucky raised his eyebrows as his hand remained outstretched, waiting for (Yn) to accept.

"Ah, alright," (Yn) nodded then glanced at Steve who quickly schooled the bewilderment on his face. Steve stepped back allowing (Yn) to take Bucky's hand. Bucky smoothly stepped forward placing his right hand on (yn)'s waist while he held his left hand up but much closer to their bodies than Steve had done. (Yn)'s body relaxed just enough for Bucky to notice, confirming her right shoulder injury.

"Any other injuries you want to tell me about before we start? Dancing can be dangerous,"

(Yn) pulled her head back to look up in shock at Bucky. Her eyebrows drew down and she began to step away.

"Excuse me but is that any of your business?"

"No, but it is my business why you're hiding setting while getting close to my friends," Bucky stepped closer and began moving slowly to the music, his mouth near (Yn)'s ear so she could hear him easily.

(Yn) warred within herself. Did she lashed out like she wanted to put Bucky in his place and cause a scene or appease him enough until she could get Nat to sneak her home.

"Natasha knows, and it's a private matter. Is that not enough for you?" (Yn) settled on a combination of both extremes.

"Nope," Bucky began and as soon as the word left his mouth (Yn) yanked her hand out of his before turning on her heel to walk back to the bar. In her hurry to get out of Bucky's arms, her foot caught on Bucky's and she felt her knee give way before she could steady herself. (Yn) instinctively grabbed onto Bucky's arm as her leg gave out, biting her lip to keep from screaming.

Bucky in his confusion managed to support (yn) easily though their situation drew stares from the other patrons nearby.

"What's going on? Are you ok--" Bucky began but (yn) held up her hand, unable to speak yet. Bucky looked at the odd angle her knee was at and his heart sank. Before he could offer to carry her he saw (yn) reach down grab her kneecap and bend her knee. He faintly heard the pop over the music though he doubted anyone else could.

Bucky knelt at (yn)'s side preparing to help her to a chair but Steve was there, leaning down to pick (Yn) up with Natasha at his side.

"You couldn't leave it alone, could you," Natasha snapped at Bucky.

"Steve I'm okay, I can walk. Please," (yn) looked at Steve then to the growing crowd nearby. "I really don't want to be a spectical," she added and Steve nodded, understanding the sentiment all too well.

Setting (Yn) down Steve offered her his arm to her support her while she walked slowly to their car. Natasha followed and Bucky came last.

Tag list:

@wingedlandwasteland @nikolanna @thatsanswitch @random-awkward-girl @lbuck121

#bucky x reader #reader insert #steve x reader #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfic #spoon theory #disabled!reader x bucky #natasha x reader friendship #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers #platonic!natasha x reader #disabled!reader insert

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grimelords · 5 years

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Two days after I said I’d upload it tonight, here it is! My October playlist is finished and it’s chock a block full of good music and also bad music that I love. From John Mellencamp to drone metal, from Katy B to Cassius, it’s all here and more. Deadmau5 also is here and for that I apologise.

Small Town (Acoustic) - John Mellencamp: Guess who had a legit emotional reaction to a John Mellencamp song this month, thinking deeply about what it means to be from a small town and how much this song gets right and wrong about identity and freedom in a small town versus living in a big town? This guy. I think this song works a lot better stripped down acoustically than it does in the album version. It gives the lyrics a lot more space, and really lays out just how simple the sentiment of the song is. It sets the tone of this month's playlist pretty well now that I think about it. I've been feeling like a real pea-brain hayseed this month and big chunks of this playlist really reflect that.

Katy On A Mission - Katy B: It feels like this and Hold It Against Me by Britney Spears (which was also 2011) is the moment that big american style dubstep completely crossed over into the mainstream, Scary Monsters And Nice Sprites was about six months ago and from there it was a tidal wave until oversaturation and complete death. But Katy On A Mission is different because it's at least got the credentials of dubstep pioneer Benga producing it and it doesn't go all-out on the super dirty bass, or even particularly have a big drop at all - it just uses it textually all the way through and it's better off for it.

I Only Have Eyes For You - The Flamingos: The way this song is recorded is insane. It literally sounds like they're at the bottom of a well. And it's mixed in that good early stereo hard-panned style so the lead is in the right channel and the whole harmony is in the left channel and absolutely soaked in reverb in a way that just sounds incongruous with the rest of the song. It sounds like a dream. My favourite moment is at about 2:30 when the harmony vocals get so large on the high note that they clip out and distort in a way that just sounds very, very cool.

Horses In The Sky (Live Version) - The Sound Of Animals Fighting: The Sound Of Animals Fighting was a post-hardcore prog supergroup where they were all anonymous (it was just the entirety of RX Bandits plus Anthony Green from Circa Survive) and I really wish they'd done more like this after their first album - because they still wrote very very good songs but they got lost in the mire of studio ambient interludes and being avant-garde for the sake of it which sometimes worked and most times just bored you which thankfully they only succumb in the end section of this version. Compare this to the studio version if you want to know what I mean, halfway through the guitar solo it just starts playing in reverse.

Split Wide Open - Cannibal Corpse: Here's what I mean about feeling like a pea-brain this month. Cannibal Corpse is proper troglodyte moron man music. It makes me feel dumb as fuck like a real stupid guy. There's something interesting about Cannibal Corpse's enduring ability to shock people, and that a band making such extreme music are at least a name that people know. They were in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective for god's sake. Before Marilyn Manson and that wave of cabaret shock-rock really got into the popular consciousness Cannibal Corpse were making shocking, violent music without any of the glamour and I think it's served them well in the long run. Songs like 'Hammer Smashed Face' or 'I Cum Blood', are shocking in title, artwork and content to this day are still musically shocking to the vast majority, far more than Marilyn Manson's spooky androgyny and wearing like a top hat and having fangs or whatever that's aged like milk and become just another boring cliche. The idea of the devil being charming and sly, disguised in charisma is so much more boring than the devil just tearing you apart like mince meat and eating you. Anyway I'm here to say Cannibal Corpse is good music for dum-dums like me.

Funeraloplis - Electric Wizard: Someone's edited it now but it's still in the footnote links, but the best ever piece of writing on wikipedia was the quote on Electric Wizard's page where they were explaining the origin of their name because it said "Is the name Electric Wizard made out of two Black Sabbath song titles? [smokes a big bud of weed through a can] Hahahaha, yeah it is!" which is so good and sort of all you need to know about them.

I <3 U So - Cassius: Looking back through this list it seems I'm having a real 2011 moment for some reason. I don't think I *get* Cassius. From everything I read about them they seem to be french dance royalty but they literally have two good songs and they're both in this playlist. These two songs are very good though so maybe it's just that. Anyway it's a shame what Kanye did this to song on Watch The Throne but I don't blame him, it feels like this song is just impossible to work with. It's at a weird tempo, it's incredible loose, it basically has one section. I imagine this song would have frustrated a lot of DJs when it was popular cause I really don't know how you would mix in or out of it, but fuck it while it's on it's a great song!

Youth, Speed, Trouble, Cigarettes - Cassius: This is the other good Cassius song. I'm pitching it as the theme song for when they eventually reboot Skins. I really appreciate that this song has 1 idea and basically just does every variation it can with it before bringing it to a climax. When your idea is this simple and this good that's all you need. Also the big toms that kick in after the 'just one more' but are heaven sent.

It Took The Night To Believe - Sun 0))): Sun 0))) are such morons and it's so funny that you can be so dumb and so serious about this sort of music at the same time. On this song Greg Anderson is credited as Mystik Fogg Invokator and Stephen O'Malely is credited as Taoiseach, which is the name for the Irish prime minister. Whenever I listen to Sun 0))) for the first two minutes I'm like 'lol this sucks' but then suddenly the guy is like 'cry yourself to ash' and I'm feeling the pull of the void quite heavily. Basically it's just like that meme.

Seven Angels - Earth: I remember ages ago some guy posted Earth 2: Special High Frequency edition and it was just this whole album with a high pass filter on it which is a funny joke. Anyway it interesting to think of this album in the context of when it came out. Two years after Nevermind, six months before In Utero - grunge at the absolute height of its power, stoner metal like Kyuss and Sleep huge when suddenly this guy comes out of nowhere and distills guitar music down to its essence: slower, louder, heavier than anything else by an order of magnitude.

Mutual Slump - DJ Shadow: I finally saw Xanadu this month and now I can finally relate to the weird smiling breathing out your nose noise that she makes after she says 'I'd never hailed a cab before' in this song.

Walkin' On The Sidewalks - Queens Of The Stone Age: Queens Of The Stone Age's first album is 20 years old this year and I've been thinking a lot about how it was a two person operation. Josh Homme played and sang everything on this album except the drums and it's funny to think about writing this sort of music all by yourself outside of a jam structure. He really sat down with a pad and paper and wrote down 'outro: bass riff x400' and then recorded it just like that.

Witch - Maps & Atlases: I wake up with this song in my head so often it's insane. I think a triplet groove in 4/4 like this is such a good and underused feeling and this song really deploys is perfectly. I want more of this, the good kind of math rock where it's not just guys doing midwest emo tappy riffs that all sound the same.

Down 2 Hang - Kirin J Callinan: This is what meeting up with people from the internet feels like. It's kind of a shame that this album got completely overshadowed by the Jimmy Barnes screaming meme, and that it's the first and last a lot of americans will ever hear of Jimmy Barnes but in reality it's exactly what Kirin J Callinan wanted to good for him I suppose.

Fast In My Car - Paramore: If you can't tell already I'm having an extremely basic bitch moron man month and that included listening to this Paramore album a lot and telling my girlfriend about how isn't it so interesting that the guitarist Taylor York just took over drum duties for this album after their longtime drummer quit and did such a good job playing drums AND guitar and her rightly not caring at all. I'm always impressed by songs that keep the same chords through the verse and chorus, it seems impossible but it works great here.

Don't Stop The Dance (feat. Delafleur) - Breakbot: I'm clapping my hands to stress each syllable when I tell you that Disco Will Never Die.

Oqiton - Jeremy Dutcher: I'm so glad this album won the Polaris Prize because I feel like I would never have heard of it otherwise. I absolutely love it, and I think what I love so much about it is that it doesn't fall into the trap of similar projects like this in the past of smoothing out all the jagged edges and turning it into plastic pretty music from the untouched ancient peoples - it's a real and alive reinterpretation of old music that looks toward the future and past in equal measure. Including the actual original recordings in each track is such a smart move, it gives you the context you need so this album isn't about liner notes and extra sources and it lets those old recordings seamlessly fold into these new reorchestrations.

I Remember - Deadmau5 & Kaskade: Anyway moron month continues here with the only worthwhile contribution to the planet earth that Deadmau5 ever made, I suspect by letting Kaskade do most of the work. It sounds sadistic but I really appreciate how this song is nearly ten minutes long, I'm a big fan of any song with that much confidence that actually pulls it off.

Overtime - Jessie Ware: Fucking Jessie Ware is back and she’s got Bicep producing! I think I added this song to my playlist before it was even a minute in, I just heard the bassline and my brain stem said yes.

Body - Julie Jacklin: I really think Julia Jacklin might be the best songwriter around right now and I cannot wait for her new album. I guess this keeps with the moron man theme by telling it from the other side. I keep listening to this song and then getting into a real mood for about an hour afterwards so I can't imagine the damage the album is going to do to me.

Can't Tell Me Nothing - Kanye West: Throughout the whole ongoing Kanye drama I've been thinking of this song. " I feel the pressure, under more scrutiny, and what I do? Act more stupidly" "I'm on TV talking like it's just you and me". Anyway he's had is money right for a long time but it's becoming increasingly apparent that you really really can't tell him nothing. I think it's interesting that the thing that seems to have spurred him into clarifying his beliefs and finally backtracking on anything is that Candace Owens tried to credit him for the shitty Blexit thing and it turns out the one thing you can't do to Kanye West is manipulate him into putting his name on something he doesn't believe in or didn't create. It's insane that John Legend and Mos Def and Talib Kweli reaching out didn't change anything but Candace Owens taking one too many liberties absolutely did.

Like Wolves On The Fold - Colin Stetson: I've said it one million times but I love Colin Stetson. I love how straightforward this is for a Colin Stetson song. You can sing along to it! So much writing about him focuses on the intricasies of his technique rather than his resulting very human, very primal music. I feel like his music is not very far from beating on your chest and yelling a lot of the time (especially toward the second half of this song) and the saxophone element just makes it a lot more socially acceptable.

Sack 'Em Up, Pt. I / Sack 'Em Up, Pt. II - Gwenifer Raymond: Bandcamp had a really good article about American Primitive the other day https://daily.bandcamp.com/2018/10/10/american-primitive-list/ and I found this album in it and fell completely in love instantly. I listened to it five times in a row. It's just incredible and I'm so glad that the music I love is finally being rescued from the mire of New Acoustic youtube men with their slapping and tapping and harp guitars and moving forward in new ways with artists like Sarah Louise, Marisa Anderson and Gwenifer Raymond. Women are finally allowed to play guitar now and thank fuck. One of the things I really appreciate about this album is just how written it feels. Every part, even the very swirly Part One of this song feels very purposeful, and if not totally written at least improvised in a tight framework before moving into the completely written second half. There's nothing wrong with improv but in a genre like this that's almost overrun with guys putting out hour long improv records it's refreshing to hear someone with such a clear vision execute it so expertly.

Bleeding Finger Blues - Gwenifer Raymond: Also, get a fucking load of this. An absolute powerhouse performance from a master. There's not enough solo banjo music around and it's a shame because I don't know if there's a better argument for banjo as a solo instrument than this song. The other thing I like about this album is there’s three banjo songs on it, which works well for breaking up the sequencing and making each song really distinct in a genre where albums can really blend together.

4:30 - Danger: It's a shame that Danger never really fulfilled his potential. With songs as good as this as 19:11 he seemed set. But then he took about a decade off before his debut album and I guess he lost something along the way. Anyway, doesn't matter because when you've got a song as good as this it's all you need. Also here's a good video where someone just put this song over the bar scene from Terminator which really accentuates the vibe in my opinion. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z37R39-mff8

Crybaby - Abra: I love love love the production on this. A friend sent it to me because he said it reminded him of the Call Me Mr Telephone song I was raving about and he’s absolutely right. I love how formless it is, it goes through about three different verse ideas before finally getting to the chorus at about a minute and a half in and it’s only stronger for it. I’m so glad a new generation of darkwave adjacent people are discovering freestyle because this is great.

OMG!!! - Yelle: This song is probably best experienced with the music video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoWK4rV3INY It’s fantastic on its own, especially the “oh my god!” sample and the whole chorus section, but the video - titties out, covered in glitter, very very good dance move for the rising 'ooo' part, a hamster is there. Really accentuates it.

Copacabana (At The Copa) - Barry Manilow: Was thinking about this song the other day. Woke up with it in my head actually which was strange. I feel like this song and the Pina Colada song definitely take place in the same cinematic universe.

King Of The Dead - Cirith Ungol: I've been rereading Lord Of The Rings and also a very dodgy 70s sci-fi series called Dray Prescot and so divine fate has drawn me to discover Cirith Ungol. The good kind of metal where all the album covers could also be fantasy novel covers and all the songs are about how cool it would be to slay an ancient demon with a sword. I love this song because it feels impossible to sing it without doing some very dramatic face acting and also his voice is completely insane. I feel like this is maybe just how he talks.

Sugaree 10/21/1978 - Grateful Dead: Grateful Dead are good and ever since I came to terms with that I've felt like I'm always on the precipice of buying a box of tapes, covering my car in confusing stickers and dropping completely out of society. The problem with a big chunk of live Dead recordings that I've heard is that while the playing is always on point, the vocals can vary wildly - especially when they try any kind of harmony, but this recording is just great. Fantastic vocals with a lot of feeling, ample crowd noise so it doesn't feel like just a sterile soundboard recording, and of course an incredible extended jam.

Ring De Bell - Brother Resistance: I don't fully understand what rapso music is yet, I don't have enough understanding of the culture or surrounding genres. I basically just found this Best Of compilation and have been listening to it a LOT. As I understand it it's 70s Trinidadian calypso music that got very political, which is very cool. I'm a big fan of this sort of lyric where it feels like you could just go on and on for days about all the places you should ring the bell.

Kojack - David Rudder: The crown jewel of this compilation is of course this song I've posted about before and absolutely love to death. A protest song about them taking Kojack off the TV because it's too violent when shows like Dallas and Dynasty, which are far worse, remain on the air. Miami Vice! Before youtube comments and online petitions you had to make extremely good songs about this kind of thing, and its a huge shame that we've allowed this to die.

The Power Of Love - Celine Dion: I love Celine Dion because all her songs sound like they were recorded across 5 countries and 8 different studios and cost two million dollars. They always sound too expensive for casual listening to me, like I should have an emergency mink coat on me at all times just in case The Power Of Love starts playing in a supermarket.

Airworks - J Dilla: I've been listening to Donuts a bunch this month and really thinking about what makes him so good and the vast legion of Dilla imitators on soundcloud bad and I think this song is a good example. The main sample sounds straight up ugly, it's backwards and twisted to hell, the main strings part keeps folding over itself, it's just chaos but completely controlled chaos. Every imitator is so afraid to make a total mess like he does and is too focused on the underpinning laid-backness of the beat, where Dila somehow makes the relaxed feeling easily as a result of a million clashing elements.

Anti-American Graffiti - J Dilla: I also found a playlist on Spotify where someone had put together Donuts with all of the the original tracks it sampled (or at least the ones that are available on Spotify) and it's such an illuminating new way to listen to this album. https://open.spotify.com/user/keatonkreps/playlist/1TPeWt38uceWXD1Vhyf7wx?si=NJ_jHrYqQpCt18q-W9nrag

Marvel - Solillaquists Of Sound: Every genre has good music in it. Even rappity rap conscious hip hop has good songs like this one. There’s another song on this album called Popcorn that’s basically the It’s Media picture converted to a .wav but this song is good. Especially her vocals when they come in halfway through sounding like an astrology zine except good.

Rock Island Line - Johnny Cash: Johnny Cash has around one million songs about trains, including ‘Blue Train’, ‘Train Of Love’ and a song called ‘I’ve Got A Thing About Trains’ but this is the best one because it’s about train-related fraud and doing perhaps the most outlaw country manoeuvre ever and telling the toll man that you’re carrying livestock when you are in fact carrying pig iron.

I <3 U So (Skream's Made Zdar Feel Like He Was 20 Again Remix) - Cassius: Also as a kind of coda, here's Skream's version of I <3 U So, where he's completely ironed it out and turned it into a pulsing dnb thing which is always impressive to me when people completely reverse the feel of a song in a remix.

Worms Of The Senses / Faculties Of The Skull - Refused: Stereogum had a really good article about The Shape Of Punk To Come on its 20th anniversary and whether it really did turn out to be the shape of punk to come. They asked a bunch of people whether the title seemed arrogant and the vocalist from La Dispute had a really good answer where he said "But it’s like calling your shot and then fuckin’ hitting a home run. If it was arrogant, it was justifiably so." which is so great. https://www.stereogum.com/2020358/refused-shape-of-punk-to-come-turns-20/franchises/sounding-board/

listen here

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linssikeittomies · 6 years

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The Place Between Here And There - An Excerpt From Ch 7

Masterpost

I’ve been busy with work and school so I haven’t had much energy for writing, but ch 7 is underway. Still needs a lot of meat around the bones but the skeleton is almost complete.

Vanya was right, the coffee shop really was like the station’s mess hall. Even at this hour there were three cops in uniforms. Al wondered how many more were in civvies. The menu had a lot of lunch options, but Al decided to just take something sweet so he wouldn’t ruin his appetite. After the movie they’d go home and make dinner. Vanya was of course cooking, and supposedly it would be really good. Al had his doubts about that, since it would naturally be Russian food and he wasn’t looking forward to borsh or however you wrote that crazy word. Probably with three more Z’s sprinkled throughout and a Y at the end. Why did Russians have to make everything so complicated? They’d probably try to write cupcake as cyuapcyackzy. Cupcakes were too good for something like that. Except maybe these. They looked really plain. Just a solid color frosting without any sprinkles. Al should probably go with the apple pie. Yeah, apple pie and a cappuccino. The waitress smiled at him and said she would bring them shortly, so Al picked a table for two and settled in. Here wh u redy, he wrote to Vanya. I will be there in about ten minutes When the pie came, Al took a picture of it out of habit. It wasn’t Instagram worthy. No one else’d had anything interesting to photograph that day, either, so Al just stared out the window while sipping his coffee. “I think I know you”, a stranger from the next table suddenly piped up. Al looked at him, tried to place him, but came up with nothing. Al may have been with Vanya, but he had to admit that the guy was hot. More his usual type, a bit bearish – built, but not overly, with a superhero’s jawline. Looked a bit like a brown-haired Captain America with Thor’s beard.

“Sorry, can’t say the same ‘bout you.” “Nah, that’s fine. It might come back to me in a while. Name’s Kyle.” The man rose up and came to Al’s table, offering his hand. Al took it and gestured for him to sit down, so Kyle got his coffee and sunny yellow cupcake and sat down with Al. “Are those any good? This is my first time in this place, wanted to play it safe and take the apple pie.” “They’re passable. I keep forgetting I don’t like buttercream.” “What are you, some kind of foreign spy?” Al laughed. Who doesn’t like buttercream? Al would have it for breakfast every morning if he didn’t need to worry about his waistline. Fast food was already pushing the line a bit too far, but Al didn’t like cooking so it was his only choice on the days he didn’t eat with Vanya – which wasn’t that often, since they didn’t have the time for several dates in a week and even then they didn’t always cook together, and usually went their separate wasy after breakfast. “Wait! I think you’re a fireman, right?” Kyle suddenly said, and Al nodded. Kyle snapped his fingers, proud of his memory. “We must’ve met at a rescue site, I’m a paramedic.” “Cool! Left an impression, didn’t I?” Al laughed. He still didn’t remember the man, but at least with this it was confirmed he was no creep. He hadn’t felt like one, but it’s always good to know for sure. “Yeah. It’s coming back more now, you carried out the kids all by yourself”, Kyle replied, leaning back with his hand on his jaw. “I meant to give you my name and number before we left for the hospital, but I couldn’t find paper.” “Shouldn’t you have been driving already by that point?” Al asked, pretending he hadn’t noticed the flirting. Kyle seemed like a cool guy, Al wouldn’t mind his company until Vanya got there. Saying you have a boyfriend tends to kill conversation with people who have the hots for you. “Nah, they were in good condition, mostly just spooked. You got them out before they inhaled much smoke.” Kyle stirred his coffee while Al wracked his brain. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember an incident with kids. “I don’t remember that at all. Must’ve been a tiny fire.” “It was, only one room burned, because a neighbor noticed the smoke really soon. I think the parents were out or something.” Kyle eyed his disappointing cupcake and decided to brave one more bite. He still didn’t like it. “Man, why didn’t they get a babysitter?” José would’ve never left his daughter alone in the house for ten minutes when she was little. With kids you gotta be so careful, basically anything can happen when you don’t keep an eye on them and they’re so fragile. “I know, right”, Kyle seconded and leaned forwards again. He looked like the type of guy who was good with kids. He had a nice smile and a calming aura. He would’ve gotten along great with José. “Anyway, now you got my name, want my number?” Crap, Al had hoped he would have given up when Al had showed no reaction to the last flirt. Time to bite the bullet. Well, at least Vanya should be out of the office in a few minutes. “Sorry, I’m already taken. My boyfriend should be here any time now.” Kyle groaned and leaned backwards again to put some distance between himself and Al. “Just my luck, the one time I meet a gay guy in the wild he’s already taken. He treat you right?” “You bet! He’s a cop!” “I dated a cop once”, Kyle frowned, contemplated the cupcake in his hand, and then decisively set it to the side. “Broke it off ‘cause he was always too busy. Word of advice – sometimes those can’t-turn-off-types are based on reality.” “Mine’s not like that”, Al assured. In fact, Vanya could use some of that TV drive. When he wasn’t stressed out of his mind, he was so nonchalant about everything you’d think he worked at a grocery store. “He always makes time for me, then complains about it. He’s so cute.” “He sounds high-maintenance.” “Yeah, definitely”, Al laughed, because the only ones more high-maintenance than Vanya were teenage, bleach-blonde basic bitches. “I don’t mind it. He deserves more than the world could ever give him.” “You got it bad, pal!” Kyle laughed awkwardly, probably wanting to change the subject, but Al couldn’t stop himself anymore. “Yeah, I really do. I thought I had been in love before, but with him it’s this whole different thing, it’s amazing! It’s so stereotypical but I really just wanna be with him every second of the day and I think about him all the time!” “Okay, I get it.” “Sorry, couldn’t help myself, he’s just so great! Oh, and speak of the devil, there he comes!” Vanya had just stepped in. He smiled warmly at Al, but then noticed Kyle taking up the other seat and his face took on a puzzled look. Kyle, on the other hand, looked startled. Since it looked like neither of the men would start introductions, Al had to step in. “Ivan, meet Kyle. He’s a paramedic.” Vanya summoned a friendly smile to his face, but his voice was strained and even higher than usual. What was that about? Did he recognize Kyle from something? Was he a suspect in something? “Hello. Fredyanever mentioned you before”, Vanya chirped, and the look on Kyle’s face was one of utter confusion. Yeah, Al could get that, he’d been pretty weirded out by Vanya’s voice at first, too. “Yeah, we just met, a few minutes before you came in.” Al was pretty sure Vanya was using his detective senses to determine if Kyle was lying, and was satisfied when he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t. Al got up to borrow an empty seat from Kyle’s former table to let Vanya sit down. “We technically met about two months earlier, but didn’t speak to each other”, Kyle clarified. “Two months? That’s right before we started dating, right?”, Al asked, counting back. September 5th, their first meeting – Al remembered because he had been on the prowl for booty after Gema’s birthday, and gotten lost on his way to the gay bar. Now it was October 15th - yeah, it checked out. “Imagine if Kyle had given me his number that time!” Al said to Vanya. “We probably would’ve never even met. Wow, Sliding doors, much?” Vanya smiled sweetly at Kyle, who shrunk back in his chair, embarrassed because he had hit on someone else’s boyfriend. “Imagine that”, Vanya chuckled cheerfully. “Did you get his number this time?” Oh no, was Vanya jealous? That was too cute! His fears were of course completely unfounded, but it was the sentiment that counted! “No worries babe, I’m a one man guy! You’ll have to pry me off with a crowbar!” Vanya scoffed and crossed his arms. Al recognized the gesture as the beginning of an insult game. “I find it far more likely that I will have to start falsely imprisoning anyone who approaches you. Maybe utilize some police brutality.” Al burst out laughing, but then noticed Kyle looking at them in pure horror, and remembered that to outsiders, their jokes could sound pretty disturbing. “Jesus Christ, babe, let the poor man get used to your sense of humor before bringing out the big guns!” “I apologize”, Vanya said, clearly to only Al. He tutted, and with great resentment Vanya then repeated the statement to Kyle. He accepted it with a quiver in his voice, so Vanya smiled at him some more to show that he honestly hadn’t been serious about arresting him. “It was nice to meet you, mister Kyle, but me and Fredya need to get going”, Vanya chirped, his voice still unusually high, and walked out the door without even waiting for Al. “I can’t tell if he’s cute or terrifying”, Kyle whispered, like he feared Vanya would hear him all the way to the street. Al gulped down the last of his coffee to run after the jealous cutie pie. “He’s kinda both. But don’t think about it too much ‘cuz he’s mine”, Al whispered back before running after Vanya. He hadn’t walked fast, he had probably just been embarrassed in Kyle’s company and needed to get out, not actually angry. Al slipped his hand into Vanya’s and leaned into his arm. “I can’t even begin to tell how glad I am that I met you”, Al said softly. Vanya lowered his face into his scarf and mumbled something. “You’re being adorable, but I can’t hear you from under all that yarn.” “Mister Kyle was very good-looking”, Vanya mumbled, still badly muffled by the scarf. “Oh, tell me about it! Dreamy!” Al swooned. He never knew they had similar taste in men. They should start checking out actors together! “And he seemed to be very outgoing.” “Yeah, he just thought he recognized me and came over to talk. You’d just sit there and wonder about it by yourself.” “I am not good with people, I know”, Vanya replied, sounding hurt. Al never knew Vanya saw it as a flaw, since he had never shown much interest in Al’s friends – he came across as a proud loner. It was difficult for Al to understand how someone wouldn’t be interested in people, but maybe that was part of why he was so drawn to Vanya – opposites and all that. And it did make date nights easier to arrange, since the only obstacle was Al’s social life. “Oh honey, I wouldn’t trade you for a hundred Kyles! You’re the only one for me, babe.” “Mister Kyle might not see it that way.” “He totally does, he backed away immediately when I said I have a boyfriend! The most wonderful boyfriend in the world, I might add.” Vanya blushed at the sappy statement and squeezed Al’s hand. “I still don’t like him. I might find his address.” “Come on babe, don’t go overboard.” Vanya didn’t answer, just hid his face further in his scarf. Al kept up one-sided conversation until they got the theater, where he finally got fed up with the silent treatment. “Are you gonna sulk the whole day? ‘Cause if you are, I might go back to Kyle.” It was a childish and unfair threat, but it did spur Vanya into action – he kissed Al on the mouth, with tongue. Vanya hated kissing in public. He accepted the odd peck on the cheek every now and then, but never liked it, never allowed anything more, never initiated. And he had just frenchied Al in the center of a movie theater lobby, in plain view of over a dozen people. “I would sooner kill him than let that happen”, he growled possessively. Al could only breath out a dazed okay.

#hereandthere #wip scene #tease #fan fiction #hetalia #russiaxamerica #RusAme #AmeRus #linssifanfiction #WIPtale

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theliberaltony · 6 years

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via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

micah (Micah Cohen, politics editor): Greetings, people. Today we’re going to have a super nice and respectful chat about a recent column from David Brooks of The New York Times.

clare.malone (Clare Malone, senior political writer): …

Nate drank his Gatorade.

micah: The column: “The End of the Two-Party System.” Can someone give us a fair summary of Brooks’ argument?

natesilver (Nate Silver, editor in chief): The summary is that we need the Reasonable Center Party, which happens to have exactly the same policy positions that Brooks has and would be enormously successful if only anyone bothered to create it.

micah: I said “fair.”

clare.malone: Brooks brings up the rise of basically what he’s categorizing as tribal politics, and compares it to European trends from the late 1990s and early 2000s.

He says that, at some point, conservatives and liberals will split themselves between true philosophical conservatives and liberals, and then the people who are the tribal conservatives and tribal liberals.

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): A more generous summary might be that Brooks feels the Republican Party is too Trumpish and the Democratic Party is too stuck on race- and gender based-politics, and we need another party for people who don’t like those two ideologies.

micah: OK, I don’t want this chat to just be bashing Brooks’s argument; I want to talk about third parties. So let’s get the argument-demolishing out of the way …

There’s a ton wrong in this article, right?

natesilver: I mean, the main problem is that he doesn’t understand how parties work.

Which is a pretty big problem if you’re writing a column about parties.

I like Brooks, by the way (I really do) — this just wasn’t one of his best efforts.

perry: So, first, he points to the good old days of the 1990s. But as Julia Azari has written, we’ve always had very intense political conflict, it’s just more partisan now. Moreover, the 1990s were not great — as we knew back then but are learning more now — if you were, say, a woman trying to advance in many fields or an African-American who dealt with the criminal justice system.

Second, the pre-Trump Republican Party he describes skips over the racialized politics of, for example, Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan.

micah: Yeah, this description of the GOP seems waaaaay off:

In the years after Ronald Reagan, the Republican Party was defined by its abundance mind-set. The key Republican narratives were capitalist narratives about dynamic entrepreneurs and America’s heroic missions. The Wall Street Journal editorial page was the most important organ of conservative opinion. The party’s views on other issues, like immigration, were downstream from confidence in the abundant marketplace and the power of the American idea.

What about all the racialized law-and-order stuff?

clare.malone: My real problem with the article is that he doesn’t really prove his case.

He says at the very end of it, in a single paragraph:

Eventually, conservatives will realize: If we want to preserve conservatism, we can’t be in the same party as the clan warriors. Liberals will realize: If we want to preserve liberalism, we can’t be in the same party as the clan warriors.

But wait … will they realize this? What about hyper-partisanship? And check this out from Pew:

natesilver: The article also skips over the importance of “values voters” and the evangelical movement to the George W. Bush coalition. (And to the Reagan coalition too.)

micah: But, Nate, explain how you think the article misunderstands how parties work.

natesilver: Du. Ver. Ger’s. Law.

Bam!

OK, that’s a pretty obscure reference. But its point is that party systems are heavily influenced by electoral structures.

You usually get two major parties, or maybe three, in first-past-the-post systems like the U.S. uses. Those European systems he’s talking about — where you have lots of viable parties — mostly have proportional representation.

It should really be “Duverger’s reasonably reliable empirical regularity” and not “Duverger’s law,” but it’s a pretty useful heuristic.

clare.malone: What a sentence.

My question is, when does Brooks think all of this is going to happen?

That is, is this something he thinks will come down the pike in 2020 (aka, David Brooks is a stan for Kasich 2020)?

Or is this something 25 years in the future?

natesilver: It will happen once more people read his columns and join the Reasonable Center.

micah: OK, so he sorta bungles parties and bungles recent U.S. political history, but let’s talk about the force he thinks will spur a viable third party …

Isn’t his argument like: People are getting really partisan and so therefore people will break out of partisanship?

That seems … wrong?

Or am I misunderstanding the argument?

natesilver: It’s not necessarily wrong to think that partisanship could abate. It does tend to ebb and flow. And it’s at a high end of the historical range now.

clare.malone: It’s really hard to build a party structure — state-level offices/organizers/money — which is one of the reasons that people tend to stay within the two major parties.

Like, if you wanted to launch a legitimate third-party bid, it would not be something that could happen overnight. The Libertarian Party has been trying for decades, and they’ve only recently been racking up margins that made a dent.

natesilver: And/but/also, the two-party system is pretty adaptable. Does the Republican Party under Trump look a lot different than the Republican Party under Reagan? Sure. But that’s why parties work!

clare.malone: Right. Parties shift priorities. The modern Republican Party emerged under Herbert Hoover. So maybe it won’t break apart now, it’ll just shift to a new iteration.

perry: I was thinking out loud about this before the chat, but the last new, big major party in America was in the 1850s, right? Lincoln’s Republican Party. It replaced the Whigs in many ways.

Trump’s rise is a major crisis to Republicans like Brooks and lots of other scholars who view Trump as kind of the worst possible type of president. So the idea is a Gov. John Kasich-like figure rises to create a new kind of party that is an alternative to Trumpism. I didn’t think that was impossible in October 2016. But it seems much more implausible now, since Republican voters broadly like Trump and it’s not clear that stopping Trump is some clarion call for people outside of the Democratic Party and the Acela corridor.

micah: Yeah, so that’s key: Is there demand/desire among Americans for a third party?

natesilver: Again, a lot of this is just that David Brooks had a party (the GWB-era GOP) that he once mostly agreed with and now he doesn’t have one. Which is annoying for David Brooks but doesn’t really provide much evidence either way in terms of broader public sentiment. There’s been a gradual uptick in the number of people who identify as independent, but it’s really quite gradual and quite mild:

micah: But that’s party identification … people do say they want a third party!

perry: I think there’s demand for changes in politics: a more populist economic strain and a more nativist strain. But it feels like the former is happening in both parties (Trump, Bernie Sanders) and the latter in the GOP with Trump.

In other words, we are seeing huge changes in politics, but they are within in the parties. (And in the opposite direction of where Brooks is, since he is not populist or nativist.)

natesilver: Yeah, exactly. Basically, Brooks is a Democrat now and doesn’t want to admit it.

micah: Explain that Gallup chart though.

clare.malone: I do think it’s fascinating that Americans say they want a third party.

And yet … where is it?

Maybe if the U.S. had less money involved in politics, you’d see more parties.

natesilver: I wrote something once about how Trump himself was essentially a third-party candidate. His platform during the campaign was quite different than John McCain’s or Mitt Romney’s — although he has arguably governed as a much more traditional Republican.

But part of the issue that Americans don’t want a third party — they want their third party.

perry: So, here’s a smarter take on third parties from Lee Drutman at Vox:

Yes, third parties in American politics are kamikaze missions. Because of our single-winner plurality system of elections, third parties almost never gain representation.

And yes, a serious third-party conservative challenge to Republicans would help Democrats in the short term, by siphoning off votes from Republicans.

But each month that the Republican Party has a leader who can’t conceal his overt racism, who calls the media the enemy of the people, is a month in which voters who identify as Republican have to update their worldview to fit with their partisan identity. Only losing, and losing bigly, will break this Republican partisan trajectory.

One more excerpt from Drutman:

Perhaps you like the idea of starting a Conscientious Conservative Party, but don’t like the idea of losing and tipping the balance of power decisively to Democrats. In that case, maybe you could get on board with changing electoral laws to make it easier for third parties.

Perhaps you could get behind the Fair Representation Act, introduced last year in the House, which would move us toward a proportional voting system by creating multi-member districts with ranked-choice voting. That means that even if the Conscientious Conservative Party could only get about 15 percent nationally, it would get some seats in the House — possibly enough to be a pivotal voting bloc for control of the chamber.

Or if that feels too bold, how about just straight-up ranked-choice voting, which would give people the chance to vote for the Conscientious Conservative Party and then list either the Democrat or the Republican as their second choice, ensuring that they could express their true preference without wasting their vote, and putting some pressure on both Democrats and Republicans to court Conscientious Conservatives to earn their second-choice votes.

The point is, third-party votes don’t have to be wasted votes. They’re only wasted votes because our electoral system makes them so.

natesilver: Yeah, look, I don’t want to go overboard in totally dismissing the idea of a third party. Also, independent presidential candidates can sometimes succeed irrespective of a more sustainable third party.

But as Perry says, a lot of the changes happen within parties. And independents fall into maybe three different categories — including lots of people on the “far left” and the “far right,” not just Reasonable Centrists.

micah: No one has yet explained to me what gives with that Gallup chart, though. If 61 percent of people think a third party is needed, what’s getting in the way?

Brooks is speaking for the masses!

natesilver: Because among that 61 percent, there’s 21 percent who want the Reasonable Center Party, 20 percent who want the Green Party, and 20 percent who want the America First Party

clare.malone: I mean, there’s no high-profile candidate from a third party. Jill Stein and Gary Johnson are too fringe. And their parties don’t have enough money. So no one except people who read sites like FiveThirtyEight ever vote for them.

micah: Don’t stereotype our readers!

clare.malone: Sorry, readers.

micah: Let’s do a poll.

If you're a @FiveThirtyEight reader, please answer this question:

Have you ever voted for a third party?

— Micah Cohen (@micahcohen) February 15, 2018

Anyway, how could we get more parties? Structural change, as Drutman wrote?

perry: I think so — it’s the structure of our electoral system that gets in the way.

natesilver: Yeah, see, Brooks should really be writing about the need for ranked-choice voting.

You’d probably wind up with slightly more fluid, centrist parties, although maybe not with more parties.

perry: Well, the parties would have to vote for structural change, and I don’t see that happening.

I think I could see an Emmanuel Macron-style situation happening in the U.S.

clare.malone: Macron is basically a Michael Bloomberg type but with less experience. Way less.

natesilver: Yeah. I’d put the odds of “independent candidate wins one of the next four presidential elections” quite a bit higher than “there’s a new major party within 16 years.”

perry: If, say, Sanders and Trump are the nominees in 2020, could the Reasonable Centrist Party do better? Macron is a centrist in policy but has a personality cult around him. Or had one.

clare.malone: I mean, if Sanders wanted, he could lean into the Democratic Socialist Party thing and try to build that out. It probably wouldn’t yield him the presidency in his lifetime, but it would perhaps bear fruit decades down the line. A delayed-gratification legacy.

micah: Sanders doesn’t seem the type for delaying gratification.

perry: Take Arnold Schwarzenegger in California in that very odd California 2003 environment. I felt like he could have won as an independent.

natesilver: But in the case where Sanders has won the Democratic nomination, he’d look like a more “traditional” Democrat by the time the general election rolled around. And the Democratic Party is moving in his direction anyway.

clare.malone: Right. Sanders realized that you need the big party in order to succeed. Even if you hate their guts.

natesilver: Could someone more radical than Sanders win the Democratic nomination? Maybe. Or a Sanders who also had lots of personal liabilities?

micah: OK, so if we all think that it’s much more likely that one of the two major parties will shift in a big way than that a third party will emerge, what could that shift(s) look like?

perry: Those shifts already happened to some extent. And the people who lost out on the them are the Jim Webb types in the Democratic Party and the Bill Kristol/Brooks types in the GOP.

micah: One hundred percent agree on GOP, but are we really ready to declare the Democratic Party fully shifted too?

In other words, is asymmetric polarization more symmetrical now?

clare.malone: Oh, Democrats got stuff a-brewing — though because they lost, it’s a less dramatic fight. But the party, in addition to some demographic changes, is much more liberal than it used to be:

natesilver: Neither party has fully shifted, but the Democratic Party is earlier in its process of shifting, I think.

perry: I’m just having a really hard time seeing the Kristol/Brooks wing retaking the GOP. I think, like Nate said, those people are basically Democrats now. And they should try to push the Democrats to be less-identity-ish.

natesilver: In terms of the Democratic Party shifting, the key question isn’t, “What does David Brooks want?” but, “What do young black and Hispanic voters want?”

micah: So, yeah, you two just identified the tension there, right?

clare.malone: Big ol’ tent, huh?

Big enough for Brooks and Kristol.

micah: It would have to be a huge tent!

Brooks describes the Republican Party of the 1980s without one mention of race — getting Brooks-esque voters in the same tent with liberal Democrats is gonna be tricky.

clare.malone: I mean, those guys are basically European conservatives, to go back to the Brooks point about European politics. And their being in the party for a while could, in 10 years, push the more left-leaning people to start their own thing.

Eventually the tent will get too crowded and some people will have to go to the overflow section.

natesilver: Right now, opposition to Trump unites white urban neo-liberals with white democratic socialists with black and Hispanic voters. You’d have a lot of tensions within that coalition down the road, though.

perry: Brooks and the other conservative anti-Trump voices have resonance, in part, because some Democrats at the elite level are wary of the identity stuff too but can’t say so publicly. (Let’s say Sanders and Biden, if you look at their immediate post-election comments.) But I think a party that is only about 25 percent white men doesn’t really care what Brooks thinks. The Democratic Party is going to get more Sanders-like, I think, in the short term. And this is going to frustrate people like Brooks, who should become Democrats. But could Biden win the 2020 nomination on a kind of unity platform? Maybe.

It feels like Brooks’s best hope is that the Democratic Party, in some kind of “Save America from Trump” move, embraces a style of politics that Jeff Flake, John McCain, etc., agree with but does not piss off young voters, minorities, women, socialists, Sanders types.

In other words, the parties really sort along immigration lines — the people with Trumpish views on race/immigration in one party, the others in a second party.

natesilver: Obama, in some ways, united all these different groups together in 2008 because George W. Bush was so unpopular. So if Trump is really, really unpopular by 2020, a Biden type could do great.

In the long run, I don’t think you can avoid these tensions, though.

perry: That’s a great point. The 2008 Obama campaign was a kind of unity ticket. He couldn’t recreate that in 2012.

micah: OK, and to wrap up: Is there any chance that the Republican Party becomes the party Brooks wants it to be?

clare.malone: That’s a negatory. At least in any sort of near-term future. I don’t think you can just forget about the forces in the party that manifested Trump.

perry: If Trump and Putin had a July 2016 phone call during which Trump told him to hack Podesta’s email, that call becomes public and Trump is impeached and removed from office … then maybe.

micah: See, I disagree with that, Perry.

perry: You think Putin made the hacking suggestion first?

micah: LOL.

The Trumpism in Republicanism predates Trump and — to a first approximation — would postdate him too, wouldn’t it?

natesilver: I’m on Perry’s side. If Trump is perceived to be a failure, there could be a reasonably sharp counterreaction to Trump. (Although, I’m thinking “failure” more in the sense of “he loses re-election,” not “he gets impeached,” which raises a different set of issues.)

micah: So, if Trump loses re-election, Republican primary voters suddenly move to the middle on immigration?

natesilver: STRAW MAN MICAH IS BACK

micah: Whose team are you on, Clare?

clare.malone: I’m not sure about my team. I guess I could see, in the case of a Trump flameout, Trumpians getting completely steamrollered by national establishment figures.

But then you’ve got a part of your base that is wildly unhappy with you. I guess they either leave or just become pains in your asses for the rest of time.

I’m not sure I’m on a team. I’m agnostic.

natesilver: Voters (maybe not voters in the GOP, but voters overall) are already moving left on immigration. The reaction to Trump has been fairly thermostatic, as the political scientists like to say.

micah: What does thermostatic mean?

natesilver: Public opinion tends to move in the opposite direction of the president’s policy preferences.

perry: But while I don’t think the Republican Party will change in the short term, I don’t rule out a strong third-party candidate doing well in 2020. There is some broad dissatisfaction with American politics that someone could capitalize on. Someone more like Oprah than Kasich, but I think it won’t be either one of them. I don’t know who that person is.

micah: OK, I’ll say this: Partisanship is sooooooo strong now that maybe it allows for more ideological/policy movement and flexibility. We’ve seen Democrats and Republicans flip on the FBI. We’ve seen Republicans flip on free trade, Russia and Putin.

So, in that sense, maybe it’s easier to imagine the GOP becoming more to Brooks’ liking pretty quickly.

If, in three years, a set of circumstances comes together so that the “right” set of partisan positions for Republicans is Brooks-ian, I don’t really have much doubt that partisan voters would support those positions — in the same way Republicans became anti-free-trade almost overnight.

clare.malone: I’ll buy that somewhat.

The FBI thing is really interesting. A good point.

perry: That’s a good ending point, I basically agree with Micah’s take there.

natesilver: Yeah, I hate to say it, but I basically agree with Micah too. The very intense partisanship we see in the country today is a sign that the parties are quite healthy, whether or not it’s good for democracy.

micah: OMG!

Let me just marinate in this moment for a little while.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #A FiveThirtyEight Chat

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