#' random guy: 'yeah youre right actually if i imagine my workplace getting more women then i would also quite based on the vibes.

[gammija]

ugh made the mistake of reading the comments on a blogpost about male flight in higher education

[mandoalorian]

Aphrodite’s Stone [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT *sex pollen*

Summary: Your boss, Maxwell Lord, tasks you to acquire an important gemstone from the Smithsonian museum's annual gala, not realising the powers that it possesses and how it can possibly affect you when an accident occurs.

Rating: 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SMUT (sex pollen, automatic dub-con due to the nature of it being a sex pollen), female recieving oral, thigh riding, fingering, creampie, boss x employee relationship, mutual pining. No spoilers for WW84 but some slight references and mentions of canon type mythology/lore. Oh, and there's actually plot!!

Author's note: Feels like all I ever do is write for Max Lord hehe. This is my first ever sex pollen so I hope it’s okay! I tried to make it as canon-typical as I could and I’m actually really happy with the outcome. Also I haven’t written mutual pining in so long so this has been really fun!

Masterlist

"Did you get the stone?" you whispered, waltzing over to Maxwell who had been schmoozing with a few of the gala guests. He stiffened up when he heard the sweetness of your voice. Your presence always took his breath away. He cleared his throat and placed his half empty champagne glass on one of the silver trays that were getting passed around.

"No, not yet," Maxwell admitted and you sighed. "I've tried swindling the geology department but they won't budge."

"Can't imagine why," you rolled your eyes sarcastically, referencing the time earlier in the year when Max had stolen a very specific citrine stone from the Smithsonian Museum. Of course their trust in him would've been altered. Maxwell quirked an eyebrow at your brief comment and you raised your hands defensively. "Sorry sir." you looked down nervously and he nodded his head, choosing to dismiss what you'd said.

"This is where you come in," Maxwell said, clicking his tongue. Your eyes met his again with curiosity. He took your hand, carefully dragging you to a quiet corner of the party. "You can get the stone."

"Me?" you asked almost rhetorically, your eyes turning comically wide. You were his assistant. He trusted you with menial tasks such as making coffee, handing over paperwork and grabbing his mail— not acquiring some ancient artifact from a different continent.

"You can do it!" he grinned enthusiastically. You were beginning to think he was putting on his charming and persuasive television voice and you furrowed your eyebrows together unimpressed. "Carol Thomas over there, she's the director of the museum. You must make sure she doesn't see a thing. But that tall guy with the dark hair? That’s Ken, and he’s been watching you all night."

You blinked in bewilderment. "He has?" you tilted your head, looking at the man Max had pointed at.

Maxwell's gaze burned into your body as you watched the geology department interact with one another. Of course he has— Maxwell felt like saying. Every man at the damn gala had their eye on you. You looked remarkable, and you were too humble to have even noticed. He brushed off your question.

"Go over there and butter him up a little," Maxwell smirked as you turned back around to face your boss. "But not too much." he quickly added on to the end, feeling a little too defensive over you. "Find out where the stone is. Can you do that?"

"What does it look like?" you mumbled, not really liking the idea of having to flirt with a slimy looking man just to get some random rock thing.

"Ruby." Max snapped back like there was no question about it.

You looked back at Maxwell, a small gasp escaping your lips as you took in his appearance. He looked drunk with desire, and you realised how much he must've wanted that stone. Maxwell's eyes were a beautiful shade of honeyed brown that sparkled under the amber lights; they were beautiful. You felt your lips curve into a small smile of agreement and you felt Maxwell's large, ring clad hand rest on your shoulder, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You made the decision to get the stone, knowing how much it meant to him. You hadn't even realised that the primal, hungry look that crossed his face was actually nothing but pure lust for you.

The second you walked away, Maxwell picked up his champagne glass and finished it off with one quick swing, the bitter taste of alcohol rolling down his throat. He tried to shake off these feelings he had for you, deeming it as unprofessional. He knew from the very start that it was a mistake hiring you. The moment he saw you waiting outside his office to be interviewed, was the moment he had to have you. But of course, his own insecurity meant that he felt as though he couldn't act on these feelings. He may have been a charismatic TV personality but deep down, he had his own, personal reasons that made him feel smaller and weaker than everyone else. For who could ever love a man like him?

"Hey, Ken, is it?" you smiled, extending your arm and grabbing the man's hand. You immediately cringed, feeling the sticky nervous sweat that coated his skin. The dark haired archeologist pushed his glasses up the curve of his nose and shook your hand a little too aggressively.

"Wow," he muttered, looking you up and down before clearing his throat. "Uh, yes. Ken."

You fake smiled, hiding your disgust, tearing your hand away from his and rubbing your palm against the material of your dress in disgust. You wanted to kill Maxwell for making you do this. From the dark, shadowed corner in the ballroom, Maxwell watched you intently, a flame of envy burning in the pit of his stomach.

"I hear you have an exhibition happening?" you took a glass of your favourite alcoholic beverage that was being passed around by a waiter.

"Yes, but it's not ready yet." Ken revealed and you nodded your head understandingly.

"That's a shame," you sighed, a fake sadness dripping from your tongue. "I'm a sucker for gemstones."

"Yeah?" Ken asked as you peaked his curiosity. "What's your favourite kind?"

"Oh, I like the red ones," you joked, and to your surprise, Ken actually laughed.

"We have a whole sub-section on garnet," Ken admitted and your lips parted slightly, omitting a small ‘oh’ as he continued on. "It's beautiful."

"I'm actually more of a ruby type girl myself." you explained, wondering if you were evening making the slightest bit of sense. Even if you weren't, Max knew that you'd be able to wrap Ken around your finger from your good looks alone. And he was right.

"We have one ruby," Ken whispered, leaning into you. Maxwell scowled as he watched Ken push his body into yours. He was seconds away from intervening. Max wanted the stone, but not if some slimy gemologist was making you uncomfortable in the process. Maxwell paused dead in his tracks when he saw you gently push Ken away from you, laughing politely. Max decided he couldn't watch anymore and decided to walk away, finding a group of women to distract himself with.

"Can I see?" you shot Ken your best pleading eyes.

"I'm afraid not. I could pull a few strings with the garnet collection but the ruby is 3000 years old. It's from ancient Greece, and it's the last of its kind."

You pouted, turning your heel, about to walk away, when Ken grabbed your arm and stopped you. "I mean!" he called and you raised your eyebrow, trying to hide your winning smirk. "I suppose I could pull a few strings. It's in the gallery, you must go alone though. And don't tell anyone. And remember to look— not touch."

You grinned, leaning in and gently pecking Ken on the cheek. "Thank you." you said, feeling his cheeks heat up under your lips. You pulled away from him and spun around. You watched out for Carol Thomas, making sure she wasn't looking before you slipped out of the gala and made your way to the gallery.

You were truly in awe as you looked over all the different rocks, each different sizes and different colours but all equally as beautiful as each other. Your eye finally caught the attention of the ruby Max had sought after for so long. You were no expert on geology but this didn't seem like any normal ruby, it sparkled and glittered and stood out from all the others. It was caged in an acrylic box, but it took no effort for you to lift the box off the crystal and swipe it, pushing it into your purse. It barely fit, but you managed to make it work. Double checking that no one was around, you swiftly exited the gallery and made your way back to the main party.

Maxwell wasn't in the corner you had left him, but instead, he was talking to a group of women; flirting no doubt. You rolled your eyes as they tossed their hair and giggled as he leaned into them. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was saying to woo them. Grimacing, you stormed past the group of girls and grabbed Max's arm, tugging and pulling him away from them.

"I got the stone," you informed your boss, briefly glancing back at the girls who were scowling at you for whisking away Max. You frowned, feeling unamused.

"Are you okay?" Max asked, sounding genuienly concerned. This was so dumb— of course you were okay. You had to be okay. It was completely fine that Max was flirting with other women, it's not like he had any interest in you anyway. It's not like you owned him. He was a grown man and he could do whatever he wanted.

"Yeah." you shot back, offering him a gritted smile. Maxwell nodded his head slowly and leaned into you.

"My driver is outside waiting. Head back to my office with the stone, I'll only be right behind you." you didn't know what it was, but suddenly, your boss' voice sounded dark and... seductive. The way his breath fanned over the shell of your ear made you shiver. Without saying another word, you left the party and travelled back to your workplace.

It was no surprise that Black Gold Cooperative was deserted when you let yourself in, sliding your employee card through the terminal and squeezing through the revolving doors. It must've been almost midnight, and you were the only one in the building. You slipped behind the main desk and booted up the computer where you had access to turn on all the lights in the building so it didn't feel so sinister. As you waited for the computer to turn on (and it felt like forever), you took out the gemstone and placed it on the top of the desk. Even in the darkness, there was something so attractive about it. No wonder Maxwell was so desperate to get his hands on it. He had an affinity for geology, although it was almost secretive. You remembered the one time he invited you over to his house, he had a whole shelf that was proudly displayed with rocks and minerals. It was a hobby of his that he didn't share with anyone else. But he trusted you.

He definitely shouldn't have trusted you.

You left your purse on the main desk as the lights finally illuminated the building. Holding the ruby in both of your hands, you carried it up the stairs, through the call centre and into Maxwell Lord's extensive sized office. You admired the way it sparkled and shone under the bright lights, so much so, you weren't watching your step. You let out a yelp as you tripped over a chair which had been carelessly pulled out, falling to your knees as the stone went flying across the office, landing near his desk.

You felt your heart sink into the depths of your chest when you heard it smash. No— there was no way. Gemstones don't just smash like that. Terrified, you crawled over to where the stone had landed and saw that it had quite literally smashed into smithereens; almost like glass. At least, that's how it sounded. The crystalized rock had turned into some kind of sparkling red fairy dust that looked almost magical. It was like a shimmering illusion. You scurried around the floor wondering how the hell this had happened. How the rock had smashed and turned into a pile of glitter. You knew you wouldn't have long until Max came back.

Your legs began to feel weak, but you decided it was just from your anxiety. Shit, the rock meant so much to Max. He gave you one job. One easy fucking job and you couldn't even do that right. You were so fired.

You began to collect the sparkling red dust in your hands, desperately scooping it up but sighing when it fell through your fingers. Your actions became more erratic, knowing your boss would be back any second. No matter what, you couldn't pick up the dust. You looked around his office, wondering if he had a brush or something to shovel it up with, but of course he didn't.

There was something weird… the dust from the gemstone wasn't just glittering, it was quite literally sparkling— gleaming, even. When you touched it, it made your skin tingle. It sent aches of heat flooding down your body. It was enough to make you suspicious but once again, you shrugged it off as nerves. You cared about Max so much, and he was going to be so pissed with you.

When you heard the double doors to his office swing open, your whole body stiffened up, your eyes squeezing shut. You were on your knees still, your back faced away from Maxwell as he merrily came waltzing into his office.

"I called Roman Antiquities from the carphone," he announced, his voice as vibrant as ever. "They're so happy we managed to get the stone," You felt your eyes grow comically wide. Wait— the stone wasn't even for him. It was for somebody else. Things just went from bad to worse. "So," Maxwell slid his hands into the pockets of his tailored pants. "Where is it?"

You slowly rose to your feet, scrunching your nose up in displeasure as you prepared to tell your boss what had happened. How you had been so clumsy. "I- I didn't realise you were sending the stone to Roman Antiquities." you mumbled, slowly turning around and nervously biting your lip.

"I didn't mention it?" Max shrugged casually. "Yeah, apparently it's in high demand."

"Ken said it comes from ancient Greece, and there's only one made," hearing the words leave your lips didn't make the situation any better, you realised. "Do you know what's so special about it?"

"Yeah," Max replied, walking towards his desk. "There's a lot of things special about it. Can I see it?" His dismissive tone made you feel small and uneasy.

"Max…" you drew his name out like it was the longest melody in the world. He looked up at you, waiting for you to continue. "Something happened. I uhm…" you let your eyes wander around his spacious office, refusing to land anywhere but him. He, however, was staring directly at you. "I had it with me. And I carried it carefully to your office but— I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings and I-" you halted suddenly, feeling your whole body heat up, and a fire shooting through your core. You squeezed your legs together and pursed your lips into a fine line, stopping a moan from escaping. What was going on?

"And?" Maxwell urged, his voice growing increasingly more concerned.

"And-" you gulped. It was a weird, strange feeling. Like suddenly, all your scents had been heightened. The smell of Maxwell's rich cologne filled the room, intoxicating you and sending you into a frenzy. "Wow." you mumbled out.

Maxwell said your name sternly, breaking you out of your strange yet blissful haze. You were used to him saying your name, usually in a condescending way. But this time it was different. It was deep, gravelly and outright delicious.

"I broke the stone," you announced with a shaky exhale. You began to feel slick between your thighs and your eyes widened. Were you… aroused? You just about managed to look back at Max and suddenly everything felt different. You saw him in a completely different light.

Sure, you'd had fantasies about your boss before. He was an attractive, single bachelor and he always made you feel special. He always made you feel important. You would sometimes daydream about him at work, watching him from the back of the conference room as he led team meetings. You'd go home after a long day only to think about him whilst you showered, and even before you went to sleep. Suddenly, your feelings made sense.

"You. Broke. The. Stone?" Maxwell gritted out. Your eyes dropped down to fixate on his Adams Apple. Had his voice always been so sensual?

"Max," you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you grabbed onto the edge of his desk, your fingers curling around the corner so hard your knuckles turned white. "I don't feel so good."

Max slowly walked over to you, looking you up and down. "Where are the remnants of the rock?" Max quizzed. You let out a moan as the feeling of arousal became excruciating. He called your name again and you just about managed to point in the general direction of the pile of glittering red dust. Maxwell's eyes widened. "Oh no no." he said, hurrying over and examining it, but being extra careful not to get too close.

"I know," you cried. "I'm sorry."

"Did you-" Maxwell swallowed the lump in his throat before turning back around to face you. "Did you touch it?"

"Y-yes," you drew out, rubbing your thighs together trying to create some feeling of friction, but doing so discreetly so your boss wouldn't notice. "I tried to clean it up."

"Shit," Maxwell muttered, hurrying over to his desk and spreading out a pile of papers. The papers were filled with information about the very specific ruby stone, and Max read it closely and as quickly as possible.

"What is it?" you asked worriedly. Maxwell's eyes widened and he wrapped an arm around you, carefully navigating you behind his desk and sitting you in his chair. You curled up into the softness of the leather seat, humming in delight your dress rode up slightly and the material stuck to the back of your legs.

"There's something you should know," Maxwell frowned. "The rock… they call it Aphrodite’s Stone."

"Aphrodite?" you breathed out. "Like, the goddess of love?"

Maxwell nodded, flicking through a few more of the pages. "Yes," he confirmed. "But uh- not just love. I mean, it was love, yeah but. She was also the goddess of beauty, uh- procreation, passion and…" Maxwell took a deep breath. "Pleasure."

You made a fist so tight your fingernails pressed into your skin as you shuffled around in the chair. Maxwell was so close to you, you just wanted to pull him on top of you and take him now— exactly how he was. But no, he was going on about some Greek goddess.

"Max please," you begged and his head snapped in your direction. You didn't even realise the way your chest was rising and falling, the way you were heaving and panting. Just the sight of you alone was enough to stir something up inside of Max. Beads of sweat laced your collarbones and hairline as you whimpered and moaned. "Can you just- please- tell me- what’s going on? What's happening to me?"

"The stone contains a kind of sex pollen," Max blurted out and your eyes snapped open.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked and Max shook his head quickly. "Like- a drug?"

"Yeah… and you touched it. Shit okay, let me go grab a bowl of water and we’ll try and clean the remnants from your hands…" Max said quickly, biting his lip and bolting over to leave his office when you shouted for him to come back.

"N-no, it won't work," you whispered, holding your arms out and ushering for him to come back over to you. "Please, please Max…" Your hands travelled to the hem of your dress as you started to peel it up. Max watched with intent, his once honeyed brown eyes turning so dark— almost black. His eyes raked your body as he watched you squirm in his office chair. The same chair he sat in every single day. "Please help me take this dress off. I feel so constricted."

"I-" Maxwell began but stopped when you sighed dramatically, tossing your head back.

"Don't fucking argue," you groaned and Maxwell felt taken aback by your attitude. You had never spoken to him like that before. He'd hate to admit it, but the desperation that dripped from your tongue caused Max's cock to throb in his pants. "Please."

Maxwell took your hand and pulled you up from his chair, briefly noting the wet patch from where you had been sitting. He had to sit back in that chair tomorrow morning, and you had made such a beautiful mess of it. His large hands manouvered around your body as he turned you around, finding the zip to your dress and pulling it all the way down to the small of your back. He took a step back as you shuffled out of it and he politely looked away, not wanting to invade your privacy or make you feel uncomfortable. He took off his tuxedo jacket and offered it to you, in case you felt the need to cover up, but instead you just glared at him.

Maxwell found himself subconsciously licking his lips as his heart rate climbed at the mere sight of you. There you were, standing before him in nothing but lacy black lingerie. He felt his cock grow thick and stand at full attention as he took in the sight of your alluring body. It was perfect in every way, even better than he had ever imagined in his dreams.

"What do you need?" Maxwell asked, his voice low. "What can I do for you?" The pollen in the stone made everything sound so seductive but you could swear that even amongst all the heat, you heard genuine care in his voice.

"I don't… I don't…" you weren't about to tell him that you didn't know, because that would be a lie. You knew exactly what you wanted, and he knew enough about the stone to know exactly what you wanted as well. You needed him, craved his body and ached for him to fill you up and pleasure you. You felt your cheeks heat up, unable to find the pride to actually ask your boss for this. Maxwell took a step closer to you, breaking any distance. He smelt so good.

"Anything you want," he whispered, wanting you to know that he'd be more than willing to help ease you. "Anything you want you can have it."

"Anything?" you asked, pressing your hands to his chest and letting your fingers trace the soft material of his dress shirt.

"Anything." he affirmed.

With that, you grabbed the straps of his suspenders and pulled his body into yours. A low groan emitted from the back of his throat as you pressed your lips against his. You wrapped your arms around his body, your palms laying flat against his back as he kissed you. His tongue licked your lower lip and you moaned wantonly, opening your mouth slightly and granting him access to explore you further.

Max's hands settled on your hips, his fingers playing with the waistband of your panties. You moaned, dragging your own hands to his hair and running his fingers through it.

You loved his hair, you always thought about touching it and playing with it. He always styled it so perfectly but, to your surprise, it wasn't hard with hair-product. Instead, it was soft and glossy and it was like you could feel every wave. He eventually pulled off you, gasping for breath.

"I don't want to take advantage of you when you're like this," Maxwell frowned, as you pushed him into his office chair. "I mean, shit. I want this. I've wanted this for so long…" he rambled on as you slid out of your panties and unclipped your bra. His eyes widened when he saw you stand on his office, completely nude and shameless. He thought you looked breathtaking. You were quick to discard the garments, unable to hide the triumphant smirk that played across your lips as you straddled him. You perched yourself on top of his leg and instantly began to ride his thigh, rubbing your soaking wet pussy over his expensive pants.

"Let me," you moaned, leaning into him and kissing his neck. "Let me use you then."

"Yeah?" Maxwell asked shakily and he felt you nod into his shoulder as you gasped out another moan. "Okay. Take what you need." he said before wrapping his arms around you and dipping his fingers into the small of your back. You could feel the coolness of his gold rings tingle against your warm skin and it only turned you on even more. You couldn't count the amount of times you had imagined the ridged feeling of his rings press up against your walls as he slid his fingers inside of you. Max flexed the muscles in his thigh and you yelped slightly at the friction. "Oh, you like that?" Maxwell asked, and done it again before you could even respond. You tugged on his tie, fumbling as you slid up and down over his leg. You just about managed to loosen it, pull it off, and discarding it on the floor amongst your other pieces of clothing.

"I like these," you giggled, tugging on his suspenders. "But I want them off."

"Cum for me first," Maxwell growled, feeling his hard member press against the confines of his pants. They'd grown extremely tight around his now throbbing erection. You looked down and gasped just at the sight of him. You lowered one hand, while keeping the other hand draped around his body, keeping you steady. With your free hand, you traced the imprint of his cock and smiled when you watched his eyes flutter shut from only your gentlest of touches.

"You weren't even affected by the stone," you giggled, humming in delight as you reached for his zipper. You didn't stop sliding your slick pussy over his thigh, your movements building up your oncoming high. "And look at you." you wiggled your fingers into his pants and your eyes widened as you felt his cock. "Fuck… Max Lord going commando?" your laugh came to an abrupt end when Max's grip around you tightened. He took your hand away from his manhood and set it on his bicep as he held you by your hips and muttered dirty words into your ear.

"Cum for me." He gritted out again, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and gently nibbling at your skin. He pulls his hands down to your breasts and squeezes at them, his thumbs grazing over your nipples.

"So close," you warned him as your walls began to contract against nothing. You ached for his cock, now more than ever. Still massaging your breasts, he reattached his lips to your neck and trailed sloppy kisses all the way down your collarbone. "Shit Max, fuck I cant," you gasped.

"Can't what? What is it baby?" Max asked, pulling away slightly and cupping your cheek with his hand.

"I can't cum without… without…" tears pricked your eyes as the gushing sense of sexual desire coarsed through your body.

"What do you need?" Max whispered.

"You. Inside me," you managed to stammer out with absolutely no shame. Max looked absolutely wrecked, his dark blonde hair that was once perfectly styled had completely fallen out of place and his chocolate brown eyes were glazed with lust. But he was gorgeous and you couldn't help but smile knowing what exactly you had done to the esteemed Maxwell Lord. You shuffled back slightly, and Max glanced down at the wet patch you had left on his pants. He couldn't contain his grin.

"I don't have a condom," Max admitted. The revelation surprised you as you pegged Max for the kinda guy who endured a lot of sex in his office. It seemed like the perfect place, but come to think of it, he never really had girls around. Only you. You didn't care that he didn't have a condom. In fact, you kinda liked it. You wanted to feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock as it filled your pussy.

"Good," you smiled, standing up with a wobble. Max stood up after you and cleared his desk before patting the expensive oak wood, ushering you to lay down.

But first, you pulled down his suspenders, unclipping them from his pants and throwing them to one side. You worked at his shirt buttons one by one until eventually, you pulled it off and dropped it to the ground. You wasted no time, unzipping his pants and pulling them down to his ankles. You licked your lips in delight as his cock sprung free and he stepped out of the pants that had pooled around his feet.

Max gently pushed you backwards into his desk and you hopped up, sitting down and laying back. "You're so beautiful," Max sighed as he drank in your appearance, wanting to savour this moment and remember it forever. "Open your legs." he commanded as he stroked his cock. He gathered his precum which had been leaking from the tip for God knows how long, letting it slick between his fingers as he jerked himself off at the mere sight of you spread out on his office desk. You obeyed his instruction, closing your eyes as you prepared to feel his cock push inside of you.

But instead, you felt his hot, wet tongue lick a stripe up your clit. Your whole body stiffened up as you released a groan you didn't even know you were holding back. "Fuck- what the fuck," you curled your fingers into a fist as he continued to cat lick you. You just about managed to open your eyes and see the vision of his head in between your legs as he devoured your dripping pussy. "You're really dragging this out, huh?"

He was good. He was so good. He knew his way around your body perfectly and you swore, in that moment, that perhaps you were made for each other. Maybe it was just the effects of the stone but you had never had such a satisfying sexual encounter.

"When I saw the mess you made on my leg, and how wet you were, I knew I had to taste you," Max admitted, his voice was gruff and sent vibrations through your core. He continued lapping you up, humming and moaning in delight on the occasion he'd suck at the bud of your clit and draw out a moan from your lips. "And fuck, you taste so good."

"But I want your cock inside of meeee," you whined.

Max didn't attach his mouth from you once, but he did bring up his hand and push a finger in between your folds and began to massage the entrance to your hole.

"Gotta prep you first," Max told you, before pushing his index finger deep inside you. He moaned at the feeling of your walls around him and felt his cock twitch against his stomach. Obscene wet noises echoed through his office, as well as your moans and pleas for more. "So greedy," Maxwell chuckled. "Always wanting more," he pushed in his middle finger, stretching you open. He looked up at you, his eyes hungry as he pumped his fingers into your pussy. It wasn't long until your legs began to quiver and shake profusely. You screamed when Maxwell pulled out his fingers and shoved them in your mouth. "Taste," he told you as you sucked on his fingers. "Good girl. See? You taste so fucking good. I could get used to this."

When you had cleaned your juices from his fingers, you felt him line himself up against your entrance. You reached out, holding onto his strong biceps for support as he thrusted inside of you. He grunted, squeezing his eyes tight shut as your walls tightened around you. He was big— bigger than you'd ever taken before. If you weren't so aroused from the stone, you wouldn't know if you'd be able to take him. He filled you perfectly. He pushed himself balls deep into you and then came to a halt.

"M-move," you whimpered, pressing your nails into his skin.

"Beg." he shot back, smoothing the hair out of your face and running his thumb over your puckered and sore lower lip.

"Please Max, please. Fuck me." you felt tears prick your eyes and Maxwell took the hint, finally thrusting in and out of you. Your cunt was so tight around Maxwell he couldn't believe how perfect of a fit you were. He dragged his thumb to your clit and started rubbing intricate circles as he increased his speed. His movements became sloppy and rapid as his fingers pushed you over the edge. "Cum inside of me," you gasped out the second you felt his cock twitch inside of you, indicating that he was close.

"Are you sure?" Max asked and you nodded your head.

"Never been so sure about anything in my life." you screamed, your back arching as you finally came undone. You absolutely drench him, and if it was any other situation, you might've felt a little embarrassed. But Max was in ecstasy when your cunt tightened around his cock like a vice and milked him of all that he had. He spilt his seed inside of you, the warmth coating your walls and shooting jolts of pleasure down your body.

You found yourself completely engulfed in a post coital haze, and Max kept himself inside of you until he softened and could slip out of you without causing you any discomfort. "You might be sore tomorrow," he mumbled, pressing a kiss into your neck. You hummed, whispering something incoherent but your smile was very telling. You had never been so happy. "But the effects of Aphrodite's Stone should wear off now."

"You took care of me," you whispered, your eyes slowly opening. You sat up and wrapped your arms around Max, pulling him into you. You felt completely and utterly spent, and Maxwell couldn't disagree either. He walked you over to his chair and sat you in his lap.

"Of course I took care of you," his voice was gentle and sweet like honey. "This was all my fault. And I should've warned you about the stupid fucking rock in the first place."

"Stupid?" you raised an eyebrow. "That was the most fun I've ever had," you laughed and Maxwell couldn't contain how happy your revelation made him. "But… are we going to be in trouble?"

"You don't have to worry about a thing," Maxwell hushed you, smoothing out your hair and pressing a kiss into your hair. Something in his voice made you trust him and believe in him. You just knew he wouldn't let you get into trouble. "I'm glad this happened."

"Me too." you whispered before closing your eyes and burying your head into his chest. Curled up into his lap, your naked bodies tangled together, you both fell asleep in his office chair. Maxwell Lord created a frightening and intimidating aura, but, the truth is, you had never felt more safe and more comfortable in your whole entire life. You knew that this happy accident was going to be the start of something great.

Taglists (let me know if you wish to be added!)

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love

This fic: @lostcherryinwonderland @thewayofthemandalorian

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 58 - The deal, the name and the prince (Part Two)

In the previous chapter: Angie has a weird nightmare about her future, where she becomes the author of fantasy-themed chick-flick novels, and she’s awakened by a phone call by Eddie. He reminds her it’s finally Friday, that is the day they’ll finally tell their friends about their relationship. Ater disappearing for some time, to think about what Grace had told him, Stone shows up at her workplace to and they talk things out. Angie and Eddie kiss in he streets outside her condo and they believe Jeff, Mike and Dave, who were in the van waiting for them to go to the Ok Hotel for their show, saw them and now are surely talking about them. Once they get to the van though, they find out they’re discussing the latest episode of Twin Peaks.

***

Pink. They're turning pink. My purple highlights are slowly but inevitably waning into sad off-brand bubble-gum pink, whereas the blue dye is fading out completely to my old boring dark brown. I'm here, squatting over the toilet, examining the locks of hair falling in front of my face, lightedy by the buzzing light of the Ok Hotel's restroom. I flush the toilet and pull up my pants and then I can hear the sound of the club's music going up and down straight away, followed by chattering and laughing sounds of female voices. Somebody else got in so I'll just stay here some more. I don't know why but I don't like meeting other people when I get out of the bathroom, it makes me nervous. I have nothing against going to the bathroom in three, five, ten girls all together, but if I have to pee, I'm the one who always goes last and tells the others to go first and that she'll meet them later outside. I can't use this system with strangers, especially in public toilet rooms in clubs with never ending queues outside the door. What do I do then? Either I hold my pee or I give up, trying to avoid eye contact with the girl getting in after me, who surely doesn't give a damn about me and just wants to fuckin' pee. This time though, it's early, the show has yet to start and the restroom was empty, at least until these people got in. Who knows how many are they? From the voices they seem three, I won't have to wait for that long. I just hope none of them will start wondering why the door of my stall is locked.

“Have you already heard these Pearl Jam guys play?” my ears don't miss the question asked by one of them since I'm focusing on their conversation, until now only to understand when they'd leave, but now even more interested.

“Not yet, but Emma did, right?” another voice, a little higher-pitched than the previous one, replies.

“Yeah, and the singer is so fuckin' hot!” the third voice has a vague Boston accent, I can't decide if it's a real accent the girl's trying to hide or a fake one she's putting up on purpose, I don't know why. And the accent is the first thing that catches my attention, more than what she actually says.

“Well, you don't need to hear him sing to say that, you just need eyes to look” the first voice chuckles.

“Yeah, he looks fine if you just see him around but on a stage? He's much sexier. You'll see and you'll agree with me”

“He's not bad but I'm more oriented towards the bass player” voice number two chimes in again but her friends immediately drown it out.

“We know, we know!”

“You've been oriented like that since Green River, maybe it's time to change your orientation since you've been getting no chance in hell, what do you think?”

“He'll be single once again sooner or later, won't he? He won't marry Miss Perfection, I mean...” the harmless, and after all kind of flattering, nickname these chicks just gave my friend bothers me a little, unlike their appreciation of Eddie. Actually I'm almost... pleased? By what they say? Yes, pleased. Am I normal or what?

“Aim for the accessible single ones in the band, trust me” Emma-maybe-Boston tries to discourage her friend from her crush on Jeff.

“That is the guitar player only”

“Who? Stone? Hasn't he recovered from his fucked up relationship with Psycho Valerie yet? Or you mean the other one?”

“The other one. Stone has a girlfriend, he must have found a new trust in women”

“Or he's just keeping this girl at a safe distance from his guitars hehehe”

Ok who's Valerie? I must remember to ask Meg.

“So the only ones left are the lead guitar and the singer. You're taking the guitar player”

“The singer isn't single”

“Isn't he?” “Really?” the other two ask at the same time.

“No, he has a girlfriend back home waiting for him or who's about to come and move out here with him, it depends on how it goes with the band”

“Where is he from?”

“California, don't know where exactly”

“Los Angeles”

“Shut up. Do you believe someone who wants to make music for a living would leave LA, which is like the center of the world where everything happens, and come to fuckin' Seattle? I've heard he's from near San Francisco”

“NO, SAN DIEGO” in the heat of the moment I almost can't understand who the fourth voice belongs to, then here comes the realization: it's me, coming out of the stall, basically screaming.

“And you... how do you know? Who are you?” now that I look at the trio I see they're nothing like I imagined. Voice number one, who's sort of the gang leader to me, is as tall as me, skinny and all eyes, big beautiful green eyes, dark hair pulled up in a tight high ponytail, giant loop earrings. Boston girl looks like she just came out from an episode of Baywatch, blonde, blue eyes, body of a model squeezed in a black mini-dress. Jeff's fan with the high pitched voice is the tallest one, a swimmer's body with broad shoulders highlighted by a strapless tube top, dark eyes, hook nose that gives and exotic and charming air.

“I know because I know him” I shrug as I bend over the sink to wash my hands, focusing my whole attention on the fuckin' pink strands in my hair in the mirror.

“Wait... yeah, I think I saw you with Stone and Jeff's friend, the blond chick who works at Roxy's... how is she called?”

“Meg, she's my roommate” I answer to the boss looking at her through the mirror.

“Do you know Jeff? Does he still have a girlfriend?”

“Hehe yes, I'm sorry”

“See, I told you!”

“I'll fall back on the singer then, his girlfriend is in San Diego, it's an out-of-sight-out-of-mind situation, she'll never know”

“He's not with that girl anymore, they broke up when he moved here” I stop here before adding any more intimate and unrequested details, although I have a senseless and sudden will to give them all out to these girls.

“SEE? HE'S SINGLE THEN!”

“I knew that”

“Actually... he's dating another girl, a girl here in Seattle” and that would be me and it's like I'm desperate to tell them, but why? What's happening to me? Am I becoming jealous? I told Eddie his jealousy towards Jerry made no sense but at least that had some factual basis. After all Jerry's my ex, he came over looking for me and we spent some time alone in a small enclosed space. These are just some random girls who've only said Eddie's cute. Thanks a lot. He is. It's only natural they like him. Why am I talking then?

“And who's she?”

“Well, dating someone is not like putting a ring on their finger”

“What's his name anyway?”

“Yeah, right, what's his name?”

“Eddie”

“And what's Eddie like? I mean, as a guy, is he nice?”

“He's...” he's sweet, sexy, funny, shy, crazy, romantic, goofy, protective, quiet, clumsy, smart, passionate, practical, loyal, honest, reliable and other 800 adjectives more, which come to my mind and I keep to myself”... he's ok, he doesn't talk much, but he's cool”

“A hot guy who doesn't speak much: the perfect man” the blond girl states and all three of them laugh.

In the meantime I keep on washing my hands and if I go on like this I'll get webbed fingers soon. I turn off the tap and shake the water off my hands in the sink before heading up to the dryer hanging on the wall next to the door, feeling three pairs of eyes on me.

“Can you introduce us to him?” the beanpole asks me when I already have one hand on the door handle and I'm about to leave.

“Sure!” I smile at them and I'm still trying to decipher my behaviour when I get out of the bathroom, followed by the gang of three, and who do I find standing right there, one hand in his pocket and the other one holding a full glass?

“Hey, there you are finally! I was getting worried. Was there a queue?” he asks, noticing I'm not the only one coming out of the restroom. I walk up to him, my hands are still kind of wet so I rub them on the legs of my jeans, I'm conscious I have the trio's eyes still on me and then I do something honestly uncomprehensible: I throw my arms around Eddie's neck and kiss him like I had last kissed him last month and not twenty minutes ago, backstage, trying to get some kind of reaction out of Stone and Dave, who right at that moment were not looking at us though. What's wrong with me? Have I become a showoff?

“I was chatting with the girls” I back up from his lips, steal the beer from his hands and take a sip, then I turn around to face the trio of dropped jaws behind my back.

“He doesn't talk much but makes himself clear” the leader is the one who breaks the ice and makes her friends, and me I must admit, giggle.

“Very clear, I see” the tall girl adds.

“Haha come on, let's go. Bye Eddie, good luck with the show!” Boston vamp takes the other two by the hands and they all say bye and leave.

“Bye Eddie!”

“God, we made fuckin' fools of ourselves”

“Why? We said nothing bad after all”

“It was embarrassing though...”

I follow their conversation as long as I can and when the girls are out of my radar, I turn back around and find Eddie's perplexed eyes staring at me.

“Do you know them?”

“More or less. Come on, let's go, you're up next soon”

Eddie and I part ways after a kiss right in front of the stage, after we noticed Meg coming our way. Anyway when we end the kiss we see she's more focused on cursing against a guy, who's guilty of bumping into her and almost spilling his drink on her new t-shirt, rather than looking at us and noticing our public display of affection. Eddie shrugs, nods at Meg and goes backstage to get ready for the concert.

“You can stop pretending you know nothing about Eddie and I now”

“Really? Ok but that jerk really wasn't even looking where he was going!” she searches for the stranger in the crowd but he's already gone and disappeared.

“Yeah, we decided to tell everybody. I mean, to let people know. Stop hiding, you know”

“Uh! So is that why you're randomly making out all around the club?”

“Shut up!”

“Right, maybe you didn't stick your tongue into his throat right under the mixer station. And not even in front of the restrooms”

“Hahaha stop it! Anyway, ehm, it actually happened in front of the restrooms, also”

“HA!”

“Talking about that... I need counselling... with Dr Meg”

“Uhm”

“You know I don't like to take advantage of your psychology studies”

“Very poor studies”

“And of your great and not academic only enthusiasm for the subject but... I'm weird and I need you to tell me why I'm weird”

“Ok so, first of all thank you for your surely mistaken trust in me, because it must be huge if you think what I know is enough to solve the Angelina Pacifico's enigma”

“I'm being serious”

“And I'm also flattered, 'cause usually it's me intruding your private life trying to analyze you and make you reason BUT this time it's you asking me spontaneously. I feel tears coming out of my eyes”

“I acted strange earlier and I can't say why”

“Ok, shoot”

I ignore her sarcasm, even though I appreciate it, and tell her everything about the three girls I met at the bathroom, while she listens to me in unnatural silence. Unnatural both for her, 'cause honestly I don't think I've ever heard her keeping her mouth shut for so long, and for the place, a crowded bar full of people, voices and sounds, I mean, pure chaos.

“So? What's wrong with me? Am I jealous like Eddie? Is jealousy contagious? Or have I just become a bitch?”

“Is Eddie jealous?”

“Yep. Well, yeah, a little” I don't wanna talk about this right now, maybe next time.

“Healthy amount of jealousy”

“Healthy... I mean, what's healthy? Jealousy is not healthy, it's stupid. And it looks I'm getting stupid too”

“I don't completely agree with you about that. Anyway your scene has got nothing to do with jealousy, my dear”

“No?”

“OH no, that's not jealousy, I'll tell you what it is. It's three things”

“Three?”

“Number one: you're pedantic”

“Romantic?” I can't hear shit in the noisy crowd with the loud music on.

“I said PEDANTIC! You're pedantic, you can't help it. If someone says a wrong thing you gotta correct them, nothing can hold you back, not even your pathological shyness. Had it been a matter of jealousy, you'd have jumped out immediately, insulting them and telling those three to keep their hands off your man. Instead you just stayed there, locked inside that stinky stall listening to those girls drooling after your boyfriend until they've started churning out incorrect facts. That's when you lost it, you had to speak up and give them the truth”

“So I put myself at the center of the attention only to lecture them?”

“Not just that but also for that. In this you and Stone are the fuckin' same, let me tell you. You're scarily the same”

“Shut up, you give me the creeps!”

“Number two: you're seeking approval”

“Approval?”

“Everybody wants to be liked, but someone wants it more than others, especially those with a wobbly self-esteem”

“What's self-esteem?”

“If you were jealous, you'd describe those three like sluts or ugly monsters of both, but you didn't. It almost seems like you liked them”

“Because I did, I liked them”

“Exactly. Three nice funny girls who shared a common interest with you, without knowing. You told them you knew Eddie because deep inside you wanted them to accept you and approve you”

“Oh”

“Number three... well, number three is my favourite”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Because, Angie, my friend, I'm glad to tell you that at the venerable age of 18”

“And a half”

“Eighteen and a half...” she corrects herself rolling her eyes “... after all this time, you finally learned one of the main concept of life, as well as one of the most pleasurable feelings”

“That is?”

“Hahahaha showing off, of course”

“Showing off? I've never shown off anything in my whole life!” maybe just a couple of seconds, that infamous unlucky night, with the waitress of Canlis restaurant, waiting for Jerry. And see what happened next.

“That's why I said it took you a few years to get cocky...”

“Getting cocky for what then?”

“Because Eddie's your boyfriend!”

“And what's with me? It's not like I did anything, it's not a merit, it's not something one merits and shows off like a medal!”

“That's what yo say but your subconscious thinks differently. Think about it, you found approval from your new friends and when you saw Eddie you could have just introduce them to him briefly and just leave with him, but you didn't. You aimed right at Vedder and kissed him right in front of them, knowing exactly you'd have made their jaw drop. And don't even try to tell me it just came out like that and you didn't think for a second about their reaction because I won't fuckin' believe you”

“Well, actually, ok, yeah, I thought of it, a little...”

“You're with the guy they all liked, that's the ultimate approval, almost a consacration”

“I show off for no valid reason, what have I become”

“Don't overreact now, please!”

“I'm a horrible person!”

“Angie-drama starting in 3, 2, 1...” Meg counts down with her fingers inches from ny nose.

“Can't you understand? It means I treated Eddie like an object, like a bargaining chip”

“You're with a cute guy and you rubbed it in those girls' faces a little, it's not like anyone died or something!”

“A trophy to nurture my self-confidence”

“You're making it worse and bigger than it actually is. That is, as you always do”

“A decent guy gives a fuck about me and my head gets big all of a sudden?”

“A decent guy gives a fuck about you, you're a couple and you don't have to hide for any reason. When was the last time it happened to you?”

“Err... quite some time?” a normal relationship? I'd say it's been years. Anyway, have I ever had a normal relationship at all?

“You're with the singer of a fucking cool band everybody's talking about in town, I'd scream it at the face of everyone I meet. Listen to me: aren't you proud of Eddie and what he's doing with the band?”

“Yeah”

“So you're proud and your showing, like you showed those three”

“Sucking face with Eddie right in front of them?”

“Exactly. By the way, considering you're sucking face with him in every corner of this place, they'd have seen you anyway sooner or later”

“Not necessarily, especially if they're as watchful as our friends, who haven't noticed yet”

“Or maybe they noticed but just want to be discreet”

“Discretion? Stone?”

“Well, thinking about it...”

“Talking about Stone; who's Valerie?”

“OH MY GOD, VALERIE?? WHERE IS SHE?!”

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

“It's so weird to me that everybody hates the Kingdome. I mean, that's your stadium!” since I came here in Seattle I've never met a single sports fan who hasn't complained about the stadium or easily dismissed it as a simple location that's not so much loved by the citizens. Jerry is no exception, as we talk at the bar waiting for our drinks.

“It's not like we hate it, it's just it could be better, you know? Surely it doesn't suck as much for footbal as for baseball. Or maybe it's just a matter of different point of views: if the Mariners didn't play like shit, it would be the place of the heart, like Wrigley Field for Chicago hehe”

“Sacrilege! I've never been there yet, I gotta go and see” I playfully push him away and grab the glass the barman has just given to me. Cantrell does the same and says thanks with a nod since I buyed him the drink and keeps on talking.

“I walked into the field, actually I ran on it! Six years ago, no, seven, when the Seahawks beat Raiders 13 to 7 at the Wild Card Game and the supporters stormed the field at the end. The following week we'd fuck it all up and Miami would destroy us but in that moment we believed we could make it! Anyway the people is what makes the Kingdome good”

“The twelfth man, right?” I nod and as I look around I casually make eye contact with Angie, who's not so far.

“Yep, other than that and the adrenaline, the field itelf sucks, it seemed to walk on concrete covered with green carpet”

“Wrigley though, I'd sleep on that field...” I look the same direction as before but I can't see my girlfriend anymore “On the bleachers too”

“At the Kingdome you can sleep well too, the roof protects you when it rains. Some parts of it might break and fall onto your head but how bad can it be?” Jerry chuckles and sips his whiskey but he almost chokes on it, and I do too, when someone casually appears between us from out of nowhere and basically yells into our ears.

“HI GUYS! ARE YOU HAVING FUN??”

“Jesus! Hey Angie, uhm yeah, sure” Jerry gives her a perplexed look whereas I instinctively put my arm around her shoulders.

“WHY?”

“What do you mean why?”

“I mean, uhm, you know, what for? What are you talking about?”

“Baseball” I answer probably with star-shaped eyes, just like every time I think about my favourite sport.

“And football” Cantrell adds then drinks up his whiskey with one last sip.

“Sports uh? A typical conversation between male friends...”

“Not necessarily betwe-” I'm about to argue with the idea sport is an exclusively male interest when my colleague interrupts me.

“Now I think I gotta go and find Sean. I saw Layne with Demri before so I think they made up and he'll go to her place so I probably have to go home with my drummer. See ya!”

“See you!” I say bye as he leaves with his hands in his pockets and Angie does the same but in a louder voice.

“BYE! Ok, what's going on? What's wrong?” she addresses me right away with an extremely serious expression on her face.

“What's going on? Nothing's wrong”

“What were you talking about for real?”

“What do you mean? Sports, we told you”

“Sure. And I'm Doris Sams” she folds her arms and gives me a side look.

“Are you a secret baseball player as well by any chance?” I let go of her, I fold my arms too and look at her suspiciously.

“No”

“I can't believe it! We gotta go out and throw a ball sometimes”

“I can't play! But I know the game and I know a couple of history facts, I remind you my dad is a fan of basically all the sports”

“I don't know... you're very good at pretending not to be able to do things, aren't you?”

“And you and your friend are very good at pretending nothing's happening and changing the topic of the conversation at the right time, aren't you?”

“My friend?”

“Jerry... well, friend, sort of...”

“We were really talking about the Kingdome”

“Sure. And the debate was so animated you even shoved him”

“Haha I gave him a little nudge, as a joke”

“Oh you were just kidding, of course”

“Angie, I don't know what's going on in your head and I don't know what you saw but really, we were just making small talk”

“Small talk?”

“Yes”

“You and Jerry talk?”

“Yeah. As you know, human beings are social animals, they interact with each other and-”

“Cut the crap! You know what I mean...”

“It's not like we're best friends or something but we know each other so we happen to have a chat from time to time” I shrug and on one hand I find it funny that Angie came here running, fearing for an upcoming duel between me and her ex, on the other hand I think he'd actually deserve a couple of punches after all.

“And you didn't talk about anything else?”

“No, what would we talk about?”

“I don't know, maybe you told him something about the other night...”

“Why would I?” I thought Angie would tell me to fuck off after that fuckin' scene I made but we made up the next day instead, problem solved. Why would I rock the boat?

“Well, I don't know, maybe because you threw a fit at me!” she retorts and suddenly she almost looks disappointed.

“That's different, I'm with you, not with him...”

“Ok but you almost ate me alive on the phone. And with him? Nothing? He just gets away with it like that? A chat at the bar like two old friends?”

“Sorry Angie, I don't understand. One second ago you were all alarmed because you thought I had told him something and now you're offended because I didn't. Is it that I'm limited and I just don't get it or does it make like no fuckin' sense at all?”

She opens her mouth as if she's about to answer, then she shuts up and looks around like she's looking for the right words through the crowd. In the end she admits, almost mortified: “It doesn't make fuckin' sense at all, I don't even know what I mean honestly”

“Hey, it's alright, ok? Jerry and I are on normal decent terms as two colleagues. And who gives a fuck about Jerry anyway” I take her face between my hands so she's forced to look at me as I smile to reassure her and let her know she's getting worried for nothing.

“Ok. But how do you do it? I mean, like, when you talk about me”

“Easy: we don't talk about you. Do you want something to drink?” I answer straight, turn back towards the bar to get the bartender's attention and order another round for me only, since Angie shakes her head no.

“Ok, right, but what if it happens?”

“It doesn't happen. Not even coke? Or juice?”

“No, thanks. But how can you be sure? What if my names comes up during a conversation, what do you do?”

“We don't do anything because that can't be, Angie... Windbreaker?”

“Wrong answer. Anyway the fact it hasn't happened so far doesn't mean it can't happen in the future” Angie smiles at my casual attempt at guessing her second name but doesn't let go on the topi.

“I'm 100% sure it can't happen. Jerry and I don't talk about you, we just don't”

“Never?”

“Never. We have a deal” the last bit slips out of my mouth and I regret it one second later, as soon as I see Angie's face as she registers this piece of information.

“You have... WHAT??”

“We made a non-aggression agreement that satisfies both parties” ok, I'm not 100% satisfied, and Jerry neither for sure, but it's working now.

“You made a deal with Cantrell? About me? And when?” after every questions she takes a small break that lasts a couple of seconds, in which I shake my head yes. But the third question requires a more articulated answer.

“In San Diego” kind of articulated.

“SAN DIEGO? You told Jerry about us when I left?”

“Actually, before that...”

“BEFORE??”

“And it wasn't me telling him anyway, it was the other way round” Angie doesn't look convinced or maybe she's just confused. So I tell her about the little quarrel Jerry and I had at the Yates Club, about how Jerry had figured it all out and got mad at me for not telling him.

“Wait, correct me if I'm wrong: you mean he did everything he wanted when he was with me but he had the nerve to get angry because you hadn't let him know on advance that you were interested in his ex girlfriend? The ex girlfriend he treated like shit? Why would you show him this courtesy? And how did he understand we liked each other anyway?”

“Maybe he's a good observer.” or maybe I just suck at hiding what I feel but I don't say that because she sucks as much at understanding other people's feelings and I don't wanna hurt her “Anyway he was right to some extent, we were on tour together and from time to time he asked me about you and confided in me and I could have told him or just talk about something else. Instead I just stayed there listening to him. So I was kind of an asshole too”

“He confided with you?”

“Yes”

“And what did he say about me?”

“Why do you care? Is it important? And then, well, can't you imagine?” if I got so jealous the other night is also because I know he's still into her.

“No, but I'm curious to know: 1) how he's still alive, 2) how you held back throughout the tour”

“I don't know, maybe it's just because of a certain promise I made to a certain special person about not kicking the ass of a certain ex and keeping a certain secret and not starting any trouble in general”

“Wow, you're a man of his word then”

“I'm someone you can trust”

“Will you make a deal with me too then?”

“Sure, anything you want princess”

“The deal is... we won't talk about Jerry anymore”

“Uh”

“Like never, ok?”

“Well, I mean...”

“I won't mention him to you and you won't mention him to me. It's not like we can erase him from our lives, we simply won't actively have any more conversations about him, what do you think?”

“It's not that simple...”

“Well, if you can make an agreement with him, I can't see why you can't make the same kind of deal with me, since I'm also your girlfriend” she folds her arms once again and from the look she's giving me I know I won't get out of this alive if I don't accept this fuckin' agreement. The only thing I can do is trying to get the most out of it.

“In fact I can do it. I'm in...” I hold out my hand for her to shake it “on one condition”

“What is it?” she lets go of my hand and looks suspicious, I think she really don't know where I'm getting at.

“That you finally tell me your second name” she rolls her eyes and barely hides her smile, maybe she was expecting something worse.

“Ok, agreed” she shakes my hand again and I'm all ears.

“So?”

“You know I'm giving you the most powerful weapon, right? You'll make fun of me as long as I live for this”

“I bet it's a beautiful name, I can't wait to know, I'm super psyched”

“Just like my parents when they chose my second name, like I'm pretty sure they were literally under the influence of psychedelics when they decided to call me like that”

“Call you what?”

“Angelina... Something Wind Pacifico”

“But if you're a W. it can't be-”

“The other half of the word starts with a W too”

“Whirlwind!” I say straight off and for an immediate word association the lyrics of Like a hurricane by Neil Young start running in my head and I can already picture her as the perfect main character of that masterpiece of a song.

“No, it's all together but actually it would be a separated word”

“Oh” are you sure? Because that name was pretty perfect.

“It's an adjective” she points out while, in my daydream, I leave the hazy bar and close the door behind my back.

“Windy Wind?”

“Hahaha fuck you, Eddie!”

“Ok, I'm serious now. Warm wind?” I think about the warmth of her hugs and her presence in general but she shakes her head no.

“My mother was... is a fan of Nina Simone. So?”

“Uhm...”

“Maybe I can help you a little more if I tell you Station to station by David Bowie”

I mentally run through the album's tracklist until I get to maybe one of Bowie's best vocal performances ever, right at the end of the record.

Wild is the wind

“Angelina Wildwind Pacifico”

“Guilty as charged”

“It's fucking cool!”

“Ok but... wild wind? Me? Can you picture me with a name like that?” she blushes and shakes her head and hides her face behind her hands.

“Actually it suits you perfectly”

“Sure, it suits to the most boring and average person on the planet”

“No, it suits to the strongest and most unpredictable and most breathtakingly beautiful person in the world. At least, in the part of world that I know, which by the way is the only part I care about because you're there” Angie removes her hands from her face and looks straight into my eyes without opening her mouth and for a minute there I get the illusion I managed to leave her speechless or, at least, in the condition of being forced to take a fucking compliment for once.

“Hahaha well, it really is a shitty world!” she cracks up all of a sudden and hugs me, so tight.

“How fuckin' stupid are you from 0 to 10?” I hold tighter.

“I don't know but I'd say we have a deal now, right?” she looks up and gets free from my embrace just to stretch her hand towards me and seal this agreement for good.

“Right, deal done” I shake her hand, then pull her back to me to kiss her and seal this pact my way.

***************************************************************************************************************************

Time to take a ride, time to take it in a midnight eye

And if you want to go, get on below

“Ok, where the hell are those two now? Dave and I have to unwrap our presents!” we all more or less managed to bunch up around a couple of tables at the Ok Hotel. I tap Krusen on the shoulder and he suddenly awakes. He zoned out completely when the Sonic Youth's song started. Or maybe when the whole evening started.

“I kind of saw them earlier at the bar” it's the drummer's wild guess and considering he basically spent the whole time at the bar, before and after the show, he could have seen Angie and Eddie any time. They could as well be in Mexico by now.

“They're not at the bar anymore, that's where we're coming from” McCready and Staley join us with two fresh beers in their hands, talking of people who should tone it down a little.

“Huh they must be tongue-kissing around here somewhere” Stone is sitting right in front of me, keeping one hand on Grace's shoulder and waving the other hand in the air while he speaks, as to brush it off like an unimportant thought.

“Who? Eddie and Smurfette?” Cornell Gazette from the other end of the table couldn't miss the breaking news and both Stone and Grace nod.

“They've been doing nothing else all night, they're on the edge of public indecency” Mike enriches the gossip story some more, followed by Ben and Kim, who put up a show and got us all bent in laughter.

“I've never seen anything like that”

“At some point we timed them”

“We were bored”

“Twelve minutes and a half of tongue”

“Contjnuous, uninterrupted tongue. I mean, with no breaks whatsoever”

“They looked like two fuckin' 14-year-olds”

“Well, Angie's still a teenager after all, it makes sense”

“Ok but what about Eddie? And how... just on a practical level, I mean, I don't get how they could fuckin' breathe through all that”

“They must have gills, fuck if I know”

“Hahahaha you're such assholes!” my girlfriend scolds us all but only slaps me on the nape.

“Well they're just making up for lost time and you're just jealous” Meg joins her in defending the two lovebirds.

“I get it but TWELVE MINUTES AND THIRTY SECONDS” Kim repeats punctuating every single word about the record timing.

“Jealous and peeping Toms!” Graces chimes in too.

“They were on top of the stairs, it was impossible not to see them” the guitarist shrugs and his bass player nods.

“From every view point and corner”

“Twelve minutes and a half on the stairs?” I playfully add fuel to the fire, the two musicians look at me and their arms flap out.

“Yes!”

“Then the record is that Angie didn't fall down the stairs on anybody, given her history” Chris snickers under his moustache.

“God you love that story so much!” Layne almost chokes on his beer then laughs at Cornell's face.

“Ok ok, anyway, you're shit guys, this all mess for some P.D.A.s? Just because they loosened up a bit, it doesn't mean they're living 24/7 connected at the mouth li- Oh wait, yeah, there they are, they're kissing next to the door” Meg abruptly interrupts her speech and it's kind of comic because we all turn around together at the exact same moment and among those in the back there's someone standing up, getting closer or stretching their neck to give a better look at the not-so-new couple. Even strangers passing by turn the same direction to see what the fuck we're looking at.

We don't know if it's been more than twelve minutes and a half since the beginning of their laters make out session, but those two break away from their kiss and Eddie looks right towards us. We turn the other way around and in a second we're back at talking, well, pretending to talk as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't caught us red handed. Out of the corner of my eye I see them coming over and I casually lift up my voice.

“Alright, I love Goo too, it's a hell of a record, it goes without saying. What I meant is that putting it on in a club and just playing it front to back for two or three times, letting it go, it just gives me a sense of... sloppiness? That's how you call it, right? I'm not saying you have to pay a dj or some fucking guy just to put records on and select music, but they could at least take some time to make a fuckin' mix tape or something and put that on, even on repeat, it doesn't seem so difficult to me. Oh hey guys, where have you been?” I address Stone and Dave first, who look at me weirdly, then to Andie and Eddie walking up to the table.

“Round here. Have you already opened your presents? There's mine left!” Angie rummages into her bag looking for something, then picks out a not so small package.

“Cool, a new brush set, thank you!” I cheer as I unwrap it.

“A little bird told me you needed new ones...” Angie looks up playing dumb, exactly like the bird I know very well who's standing beside her. These two fuckers belong together.

“Oh and this is mine” the little bird sticks his hands into his girl's bag and takes out another package, which turns out to be Subway art, a photobook about graffiti art I've been wanting to buy for ever.

I can say this was a lucky birthday for me, with strings, cords, tool kits, acryic paint set, a couple of gift cards for Easy Street Records, which I loved quite as much as the supermarket voucher Meg gave to me. All useful presents but I loved the (apparently) less useful ones too, like the Marshall jack rack key holder with four plug key chains: thanks to the Alice guys!

During the whole presents and wishes exchange, Eddie and Angie are sitting in a corner and basically being the special observed ones, since everybody watches them like you watch a documentary about animals during the mating season. The couple takes part to the conversation and just ignore the rest, yet they whisper something to each other from time to time.

“By the way, Angie's got something to tell you” Eddie comes out of nowhere with this, in a moment we were all silent, catching our breath after a joke by Stone, who suggested Touch me, I'm Dick as the title of the stand out song of our fake band in Cameron Crowe's movie. By the way, who knows if Chris has already wrote something for the songs of Cliff's solo demo? I gotta remember to ask him.

“What?” Meg asks first, since nobody's speaking, not even Angie, who first gave Eddie a nasty look, then turned pale as she looked at us one by one.

“Is it about the movie?” Layne asks.

“No, it's not about the movie”

“Are you quitting college?” Dave tries.

“No! Why should I?” Angie denies it firmly.

“Is it personal?” if I didn't know him, I'd say Stone is trying to put Angie at ease and help her spit it all out. But since I know him too well, I can say without a shadow of doubt he's just enjoying himself playing with the poor girl.

“Well, yeah, but... mmm... it's not just about me, you know”

“Who else then?” I inquire.

“Eddie” “Me” the two lovebirds reply at the same time.

“Oh fuck, are you pregnant?” McCready stands out as usual for his caution and sensitiveness.

“OH MY GOD, NO! WHAT THE HELL, MIKE?” Angie stands up in shock while Eddie simply laughs.

“So? What's the news?” Cornell is all ears and right now I'm picturing him armed with a pen and notepad as an old-time reporter.

“What Angie's trying to say is that-” Eddie wipes his eyes with he sleeve of his shirt and tries to give an answer but the girl is faster.

“We're together”

“...”

“Eddie and I, we're together”

“...”

“We've been for a while”

“Almost a month” he suggests to her in a low voice.

“Almost a month” she repeats and she looks into our eyes searching for something she can't find and apparently she's just concluded the best thing to do is to keep adding details or to repeat the same concept with different words until she'll find it. Or until any of us opens their mouth.

“...”

“Something more than three weeks”

“...”

“We're basically a couple”

“...”

“I mean, he's my boyfriend and I-”

“And she's my girlfriend” Eddie ended the sentence for her.

“Wow, what a coincidence!” Stone can't hold back and I hide my face between my hands not to show I'm laughing.

“What do you mean?”

“Ok. You're together... and?” Mike tries to investigate some more and if he asks her if she's pregnant once again I swear I'm gonna laugh so hard that I'll fall out of my fuckin' chair.

“And nothing, that's it” Angie replies and sits back down.

“And that'd be great news?” Kim asks keeping a straight face.

“Why? What's wrong with it? Is it because you think I'm too young for him? Look, I know, we know. We talked about it actually, I understand tha-” Angie's about to launch herself into a hornet's nest with no way out but her roommate stops her and we all finally crack up.

“Totally unmotivated Angie-drama in 3, 2, 1...”

We all, but Angie of course.

“Why are you laughing? Is ther something I don't know?”

“What you don't know is that now everybody knows that what you believed none of us knew was actually well known by everyone” Stone answers in his style and Mike's face tells me he didn't understand shit.

“Huh?” exactly.

“He means we're laughing because we already knew what the news were about” I explain and the lightbulb in his head lights up.

“Uh!”

“You saw us then, I mean, tonight? Because, well, you didn't say anything...”

“Who do you think we are? We're discreet people!” Cornell states and it almost looks like he believes it.

“We knew before tonight anyway” Ben adds without thinking.

“You knew before? How? MEG?? You told them, right??” Angie stands back up and roars against her friend.

“How could she tell if she didn't know?” Eddie asks puzzled his now official girlfriend.

“No! Right! She didn't know! But... I don't know, maybe she figured it out. DID YOU FIGURE IT OUT?”

“I figured it out” Meg confesses.

“THAT'S IT!”

“But I didn't tell anyone, I swear” she holds up her hands, Angie believes her and looks at us one by one, before aiming straight at her boyfriend.

“YOU TOLD THEM!”

“No, I can assure you I kept my mouth shut, as you asked me”

“How did you know then?”

“Stone told me” McCready's voice of innocence out of nowhere.

“Stone told me too, because I was there as well that night. And Dave too” I confess and the drummer nods.

“Stone told us too, but it was some other time, at least I think so” Chris looks at Kim and Ben who shake their heads yes.

“For obvious reasons, he told me too” Grace raises her hand and shyly admits.

“Jeff told me because Stone told him” Laura chimes in.

“Is there someone Stone didn't tell anything to?” Angie blurts out.

“Me! I figured it all out by myself! I'm a genius!” Layne raises his hand and waves it around, as happy as the winner of a tv quiz.

“And you, how did you know, genius?” Angie turns to Gossard snarling at him but he answers calmly.

“I believe I knew even before you that you'd end up together, Smurfette”

“What do you mean?”

“That you both suck at playing the oblivious lovers. You're made for each other” I translate it all in Jeff-language and everybody nods in agreement, Eddie included.

“Were we so obvious?”

“Noooo”

“Not that much”

“It's not that”

“It's just Stone's a very good observer”

“It's just Stone doesn't mind his own fuckin' business”

These are just some of the answers we give in no particular order just not to make her feel little Angie like shit.

“Come on, it was clear from the beginning they had a connection. Since the first time they met at the Off Ramp, I realized it at my own expense since I had bet on it, do you remember Mikey?” I like the fact that Stone, just like me, remembers old memories based on bets we placed.

“Right! I lost ten bucks too because I thought you wouldn't talk to each other, yet you got along immediately, it looked like you already knew each other”

“I'm gonna ignore the umpteenth bet you made over your friend's head but... actually we already knew each other somehow” Angie reveals and the alarm goes off in my head.

“WHAT? REALLY? HOW?”

“Jeff?” Stone calls me immediately as I keep on trying to disguise the truth clumsily.

“HOW DID YOU KNOW EACH OTHER? THAT'S SOME NEWS!”

“I had met him at Roxy's the previous night, he came over to eat”

“NEWS AS IN IT'S A NEW THING, A NEW FACT I'VE NEVER HEARD OF BEFORE”

“So you didn't know about it Jeff?” Stone doesn't let go and by now it's obvious I got caught, I'm fucked.

My shit show at least has one merit: the following little bickering between Stone, Mike and I about the twenty dollars, which they think I owe them back, moves the attention away from Angie. Now she's finally free from the awkwardness and can sit back and enjoy the show of our friends kicking my ass, holding hands with her new boyfriend.

[yourkeeperoftherunners]

Avec Nocturne Ch. 2

Summary: AU A little thing called the flu forced him to call out sick for days. What he didn’t bargain for was his workplace hiring a girl to spin the tracks while he was out. He’s pissed off but why’s he thinking random thoughts about her?

Rating: PG-13 (Language, Strip Club setting, Flirting, Mentions of the flu)

Characters: DJ!Chanyeol x Kit OC, featuring appearances of OT12 members

Notes: This is a spin-off (no pun intended!) series of Unwind written by @xiubaek13 and @oh-beyond. (Written with their blessing – thank you!) I own nothing except for my own OC and the content written here. (I recommend reading Unwind first to get a better understanding of the story’s universe.) I do not claim to be an expert in DJ-ing. Banner created by me. Absolutely no reposting anywhere else as your own!

Ch. 1 | Ch. 3

“Excuse meeeeee?” a male voice called out as the owner rapped on the door repeatedly. 

Kit jerked her head up from putting songs into her playlist and glanced over at the door, leaning back to get a better look at the young man standing outside. She slid her headphones down and cracked open the door to the booth. “Yeah can I help you?”

The blonde crossed his arms over his chest and shot her a suspicious look. “You’re not Chanyeol – why are you in the DJ booth?”

“I’m his backup – he’s sick apparently,” Kit replied as she gripped her headphones. “Sorry, are you his boyfriend or something?”

The blonde blinked, recoiling at her comment in shock, while another young man howled in laughter as he stood behind the bar. Kit peered over in the direction where the laugh came from, watching as the young man cackled, hand slapping the counter.

“Oh God! Imagine that! Tao as Chanyeol’s boyfriend? Haha!” the bartender whooped, wiping tears from his eyes.

The blonde whipped his head around and scowled at the bartender, teeth gritted. “Shut up Sehun.”

“That was too funny noona!” Sehun said before he reached under the bar for something. He straightened up and walked around the counter with a cold water bottle in hand, holding it out to Kit. “Lay said you were talented but he never said you were funny and savage!”

A confused wisp of a smile crossed her lips as she took the water bottle and ducked her head to say thank you.

“How does Lay-ge know you?” Tao asked as he tilted his head. “I’ve never seen you around here.”

“Lay didn’t tell you?” Kit snorted as she uncapped the water. “I had to make up a mix on the spot for him to dance to, so your bosses could see me in action. Just started…couple hours ago? So, I figured Sehun’s the bartender and you –”

“I dance,” Tao cut in. “Also do special martial arts demonstrations in my performances. How long are you here for?”

“Until Chanyeol recovers,” another young man replied, placing a hand on Tao’s shoulder. “Tao, you should get backstage. Sehun, I think some patrons are headed your way.”

Tao sighed as he sauntered off in the direction of the stage and Sehun pouted before slipping behind the bar, a smile fixed in place as the customers approached the counter. The other young man walked up to the entrance of the booth and rested a hand on the frame.

“You’ll have to excuse Tao – he’s used to seeing a bunch of guys working here, not a young woman doing something other than drooling over him and the other dancers,” the man said, “I’m D.O. by the way, and you must be Kit. Lay must have really liked your work if he couldn’t stop talking about the song he danced to.”

Kit nodded as she put the water bottle down before shaking hands with D.O. “Nice to meet you too – think Luhan said you’re security, correct?”

“Yes, if any problems arise, just press the button under the counter and I’ll be here in seconds,” D.O. confirmed, pointing out the button located beneath the tables. “How are you doing so far?”

“Not bad, I’m in my element so I can’t complain too much,” Kit admitted as she glanced over at the playlist to make sure she had enough queued up. “It’s sort of been crash course learning – play the music and meet the people along the way. So far I’ve met you, Lay, Sehun over there, Mr. Personality, Kris, Xiumin, and Luhan but I’m thinking there’s probably a lot of people I haven’t met yet, right?”

“Ah, a few more faces,” D.O. replied. He glanced over at the stage and nodded, gesturing to the warm-skinned young man walking to the center. “Like Kai – he’s the other main dancer that performs out here.”

“Hang on I should get something together for him,” Kit murmured as she scrolled through her library and began pulling songs together. “Is there anything he will absolutely not dance to?”

“I think he’s pretty flexible like Lay,” D.O. said as he watched her slot two songs into her program.

“Okay, I think we need to lighten things up a little,” Kit said as she played the opening of a track titled “Whistle”, a brief soundbite answering back:

Hey boy…

Hey girl…

D.O. listened as she blended the instrumental of the second track with the whistling sounds of the first song. He glanced up at the stage, watching as Kai did body rolls in time with the beats.  

Neon neomu areumdawo neol ijeul suga eobseo geu nunbichi ajik nareul ireohge seollege hae Boom boom

24, 365 ojik neowa gachi hagopa najedo i bamedo ireohge neoreul wonhae Ooh ooh

“How’s he doing?” Kit asked as she played with the next segments for meshing the two songs together.

“He seems to be enjoying himself,” D.O. murmured as Kai picked up the pace of his movements, matching them as the second track’s chorus kicked in.

Oh oh oh Lotto Oh oh oh Lotto oh oh oh Oh oh oh Lotto Oh oh oh Lotto oh oh oh

The security employee found himself nodding along to the catchy, mid-tempo song sprinkled with whistle sounds in the background.

“It’s catchy,” D.O. said. “It’s…playful in a way, this mix. Usually he gets these really sexy songs that are slow and sensual. I think this is a little more his speed.” He jerked his head up at the sound of women shrieking and bit his lip, shaking his head. “Aish, the shirt’s off and our clients are fighting over it!”

Kit snuck a look up at the stage and bit back a laugh when she saw the tan-skinned man was shirtless and a group of middle-aged women were now fighting over the collared shirt he had sported earlier. Kai continued to dance, smirking as his hips thrust forward before he began swaying in circles, a hand trailing through his hair as the other waved around freely.

D.O. sighed before excusing himself to break up the catfight while Kit shook her head and began dragging more songs into her queue.

So far it hadn’t been too bad – people seemed to be responding to her mashups and most of the staff seemed decent. (Save for Tao.) She glanced up at the sound of Sehun knocking on the booth frame.

“You’re doing well so far,” he said with a nod of his head. “Kai loves dancing almost as much as he loves sleeping but I’ve never seen that spark in his eyes before. Don’t get me wrong – Chanyeol’s good at his job, but you’re giving us a fresh perspective.” He grinned as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll give you credit for burning Tao back there – we’re friends but sometimes he’s a pain in the ass to deal with. Only a few of us can keep him in line.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that just slipped out and wasn’t meant to sound savage, would you?” Kit asked as she looked over at him. “I mean, for all I know, he could be ogling the guy from a distance and thought tonight was the night to say something.”

Sehun snickered and shook his head. “Nah, Tao’s not into Chanyeol in that way – I’ve seen him complain to the giant about song choice a couple of times after performances. Chanyeol just takes it and shrugs it off. Maybe a few times he trolled Tao but that’s only if he feels brave enough to poke the panda.”

“You guys call Tao a panda?” Kit asked as she shot him a bewildered look.

Sehun gestured to the under eye area on his face and explained that the blonde was noted for having significant eye bags that made him resemble a panda. Kit nodded to show she understood before grabbing her water bottle and taking a swig.

“So what’s this Chanyeol guy like anyways?”

Sehun opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when he heard Xiumin say something via the microphone in his earpiece. He closed his mouth and sighed as he straightened up.

“Sorry noona, Xiumin’s telling me to get back to the bar now,” Sehun said. “I’ll chat later – come find me afterwards, okay?”

Kit bid him goodbye as she checked her watch. Four minutes to go before her break came up. She stretched her arms out and rolled her shoulders back, glancing at the estimated time for her playlist at the bottom of her screen. Noticing that it was shy of seven minutes, she began adding more music into the queue to total eighteen minutes – a bit of wiggle room in case.

In her peripheral vision, she saw someone approaching the booth and she looked up to see it was Kai, still shirtless and drenched in sweat.

“No luck getting that shirt back, huh?” she joked.

Kai shook his head and laughed as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Ah, there’s plenty backstage – giving up one shirt won’t hurt me. So, you’re new DJ Lay was talking about?”

“Yup, that’s me. Although I have no idea how long I’ll be here for, since the mysterious Chanyeol is said to be pretty sick.”

“Hopefully you’ll be here a few more days,” Kai replied as he rested a hand on the doorframe. “I had fun out there. Well, take that back – dancing is fun, period, but I enjoyed the mashup you just played for me. You on break soon?”

“In two – nah actually now officially on break,” Kit corrected as she checked the clock.

Kai straightened up and stepped back so she could close up the booth. She retrieved her water bottle and phone before slipping past Kai, grabbing the door handle and pulling it closed behind her.

“Wanna get some fresh air?” Kai asked as he gestured to the doors. “I’ll show you the patio – some people go out there for a smoke but I prefer it because it’s quiet.”

“Fresh air sounds good – hang on, are you okay to take a break now? I’d hate for you to get in trouble like Sehun almost did.”

“Yeah I’m free no–“ Kai paused before Sehun flagged him down. “Or maybe not?”

“That woman over at the far right table was talking about you,” Sehun explained as the pair approached the bar. He pointed in her direction, noting it was the one wearing a Bride-to-Be sash. “Her friends were wondering if you’d give a private dance for her. All of them are chipping in for this – also wondered if you’d give her a kiss or two.”

Kai flashed Kit a guilty smile and mouthed an apology before wiping his face with a towel Sehun threw him. He draped the towel around his neck and excused himself to go greet the bachelorette party requesting him.

“Break time?” Sehun asked her.

“Yeah,” Kit replied, “where can I find the patio by the way?”

Sehun leaned over the bar and used his arm to show the directions to the area Kai mentioned. Once she understood where she was going, she excused herself to find it, nodding at D.O. as she passed him.

“Ah! Kit-noona, hi!” Chen said as she stepped out onto the patio. 

“Am I interrupting a profound thinking moment, cause I can go elsewhere for my break,” Kit asked.

“Oh no, no! You can stay,” he reassured her.

She thanked him before taking a seat, stretching her legs out and sighing.

“How’s your first night so far?” he asked.

“Better than I expected,” she said. “Well, almost – I think Tao hates me but I was bound to piss someone off, right?”

Chen shook his head and chuckled lightly. “He’s hard to please – don’t take it personally.”

“In my defense, he was really going hard asking why Chanyeol wasn’t in the booth, when was he coming back, and yeah, you get it.”

“You weren’t screaming about his blonde hair or his muscles,” he teased. “See, if you did that, then he’d be nicer!”

Kit squinted at him and pursed her lips at the suggestion. “I can see why people like him, but I’m not charmed. He needs to laugh more – maybe that will help with his panda complex as Sehun tells me.”

Chen laughed, doubling over and slapping his leg at her suggestion. Kit watched him and shook her head with amusement.

“What? How is that funny? I’m serious!” she replied. “But I’ve been wondering, what’s DJ Chanyeol like anyways? I keep hearing his name and all I know about him is that he must be really tall and he might troll the dancers with song choices.”

Chen straightened up, catching his breath as he leaned back, giving her question some thought. Tall. Loud. Hyper. Music lover. Those were a few of the words one used to describe Park Chanyeol. On a more descriptive level, it was probably better to have her chum up Baekhyun or D.O. for answers, as they hung with him more, especially off the clock.

“Well you might wanna ask his friends, but based on working with him, he loves his job,” Chen offered. “I know you’re probably sick of everyone talking about him, but it’s rare to see him not come in. He’s nice to everyone, even the people who are assholes. I mean, if you had a disgruntled client come up to him and start screaming at him, he’ll apologize with a smile and ask how he can make it better. Now, if you took the same person and they did that to Tao, well, Tao would do, um, the opposite with a bored or unimpressed look on his face.”

Kit nodded as she tried to picture the young man at work in the booth. “Sure hope the poor guy gets better – flu’s a really nasty thing to deal with. Who are his friends here?”

“D.O. – you’ve already met,” Chen mused as he ticked them off on his fingers, “and Baekhyun – you’ll meet him eventually. He does the private performances with Suho. Usually if people book something or make a request for a more intimate session, they’ll be the ones handling those. No sex though – although I’ve seen many flustered people walk out of there with uh, well, that look on their faces.”

“Too hot to handle?”

“I guess,” Chen replied. He checked his watch and huffed when he saw his time was up. “Back to the grind. How much longer do you have?”

Kit checked the timer on her watch and replied that she had a few more minutes.

His hand was on the handle when he heard her ask, “Hey, no one here thinks I’m trying to take Chanyeol’s job, right?”

Chen frowned, brow raised as he glanced back at Kit. “Uh I don’t think so,” he said. “Why? Oh please tell me Tao didn’t plant that seed in your head – everyone else seems to like you just fine! Lay won’t shut up about your audition and from what I heard all night, Kris was smart to get your info and ask you to work with us. What made you think that?”

Kit shrugged as she looked around the patio. “I’m not…ungrateful about all of this happening,” she said. “Sometimes I wanna ask myself if it’s a dream that I’ll wake up from any moment now. I’m not gonna bore you with the details, but it’s a little overwhelming to be here by myself without a set plan in place. I can deal with whiny people who hate my persona but last thing I wanna do is kick a good person out of a job. Plus, I sense there’s an unspoken bro code here that’s being screwed with by me being here. Not sure I like all of the attention I’ve been getting – it’s almost like they’ve never seen a girl spin tracks before.”

Chen turned around and patted her shoulder. “I’m not sure how you did it, but I think the fact that you took the first step to fly out of the country and try living here is pretty brave in itself. As for Chanyeol, yes we’re all used to him and it’s unusual to not see him in the booth, yelling something into a microphone while wearing shades, but it’s not a bad different. He was due for a break though – I don’t think he took a lot of time off for the holidays last time. Maybe the bare minimum, but others took a week or two off to recoup and see family and friends. If anyone does give you a hard time though, tell me and I’ll make sure to get back at them.”

Kit shot him a smile and shook her head as she pushed herself to a standing position. “Nah it’s fine – thanks for letting me ramble. It’s hard to read some of your co-workers but maybe it’s just my personal doubts getting to me. That or the fact that I’m still hella jet-lagged a week later!”

Chen blinked at the slang term and tilted his head. Wait what?

“Oh I guess my state’s showing – sorry,” Kit replied. “I’m originally from Studio City, California. Hella’s just a fancy adjective to emphasize something being more than average. For example, I would recommend you never take the bus by yourself in downtown Los Angeles because they’re hella sketchy. Translation – public buses are very questionable if you’re traveling alone and not from LA. Does that kind of make sense?”

Chen snickered and nodded as he held the door open for her. Kit thanked him as she slipped through the doors and began heading back to the booth.

“I’m going to warn you that if you say that around Suho, he might try to use it in his vocab or worse, crack a Dad joke with it,” Chen called after her. “By the way, his jokes are the worst – don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!”

“Chanyeol! I’m back – how are you feeling?” D.O. called out as he slipped through the door, closing it behind him.

“I hate being sick,” Chanyeol moaned from upstairs.

“Well, you sound a little better,” D.O. sighed as he wandered into the kitchen. He flicked the lights on and checked the kettle and soup pot, finding both were empty. “You finished everything?”

“Everything stayed down,” Chanyeol said. “I listened to you and slept most of the day too. Also took a cold shower, but had to make the water lukewarm a minute in – cold was too cold.”

“Good,” D.O. said, trying not to laugh at the thought of Chanyeol jumping away from the freezing cold stream of water. “I’ll make you more soup then. I also grabbed medicine for your cough – should help clear that.”

“My doctor,” Chanyeol crooned.

D.O. rolled his eyes as he washed everything in hot, soapy water before clearing space to chop vegetables and prep the base of the soup. He heard footsteps, followed by a loud coughing fit.

“Stay out of the kitchen,” D.O. warned. “I don’t want you coughing on the food.”

Chanyeol sighed as he lingered at the entrance to the kitchen, sniffling. “So how was work?”

D.O. nodded as he tossed onions, carrots, and celery into a pot. “Good,” he replied, uncapping the lid on a container of chicken stock. He poured the liquid into the pot, tapping the bottom to get the remaining drops out.

“Who did the music?” Chanyeol persisted.

D.O. carried the pot over to the stove and placed it on a burner. He turned the dial and adjusted it to medium heat. “The managers and the owner brought in someone to cover for you. She’s from the US I think.”

Chanyeol froze when he heard the reply, his eyes widening. No, that couldn’t be right. Why would they just…?

He didn’t care if it was a girl or a guy they brought in, no he only cared that they had someone else mixing in his booth. The DJ booth at the club had become his second home – sure it was small (maybe borderline cramped) but he loved going in there to play with the controls, headphones dangling from his neck, and beats booming from the speakers. He knew the equipment inside and out unlike anyone else, save for Luhan who had a general idea of how it worked, as he reminded Chanyeol to treat it with care, or risk having the damages come out of his paycheck. He swallowed hard and watched D.O.’s face for any signs as he asked his next question.

“How bad was she?”

D.O. frowned and glanced over at Chanyeol with a confused look. “Bad? What’s your deal? No, she was great! Her mixes are different from yours, but she’s got her own style and it works for our team too. I never said she was replacing you for good – I think she’s only helping out until you recover. That’s what Xiumin told me.”

Chanyeol pressed his lips together and pouted as he watched D.O. calmly chop chicken, tossing it into the pot with the stock and veggies. He noticed the bag on the counter containing the cough medicine and he reached out to grab it.

He squinted to read the bottle’s small print and turned it in his hands. “How of much of this can I take? Please don’t tell me to read the bottle – the print’s ridiculously tiny.”

“1 full cup every four hours, max is twelve,” D.O. said as he glanced over at Chanyeol. “Hey, you better take the amount noted on there – it’s not safe to push beyond the max!”

Chan made a face and removed the plastic cup from the top of the bottle. “But I need to get better! I can’t keep lying around in bed doing nothing – I’m bored and want to be making music!”

“You’re not doing nothing, you’re recovering!” D.O. said. He tilted his head and raised a brow. “Please don’t tell me you’re jealous of someone you’ve never met.”

“It’s my booth,” Chanyeol said as he twisted the cap off the medicine bottle. He tore the protective seal off the top and began pouring the medicine into the cup.

“Slowly,” D.O. warned as he watched Chanyeol raise the cup to his lips. “I’m not cleaning up the mess if you chug it and it doesn’t stay down.”

Chanyeol closed his eyes and tipped the cup to his lips as he drank the contents as slowly as he could. The fake grape flavor tasted terrible and he grimaced as the liquid slipped down his throat.

“That…is disgusting,” Chanyeol muttered as he put the bottle and cup down.

“It was the only flavor they had left,” D.O. sighed.

Chanyeol turned and began heading back upstairs. “I’m going to sleep some more.”

“I’ll bring up a bowl when it’s done,” D.O. said, shaking his head.

Song List

Whistle Like I Just Hit the Lotto – Whistle (BLACKPINK) and Lotto (EXO)

[erickmalpicaflores]

Erik Malpica Flores Erik Malpica Flores recommends: What’s The Opposite of Lit(t)?

Photo by: Ian Watson/USA Network

When SUITS last left the team at [Insert Firm Name Here], it was time for the latest in a long series of name-partner changes. This time, for lack of anyone left to hold the title, it was Louis Litt’s turn to take a stab at running the series’ central business. As anyone who has seen even a single episode could predict, Louis’ first day as the boss didn’t exactly run smoothly; and as a mid-season opener, “Rocky 8” was probably the opposite of what the youths would call “lit.”

The new boss. Remember when Robert Zane and Harvey Specter were bickering like toddlers, and Louis Litt was lit(t)erally the only lawyer left at the firm who was behaving in a mature manner? Well, enough of that character development. Louis prepared himself for his first day as managing partner by being ridiculously extra as he talked to himself in front of his own mirror. Then, when he was finished with psyching himself out, it was time to go parade his way through the halls of All The Names On The Wall, reaching up for denied high-fives and smacking random employees on the butt.

Because professional.

A little bit of strutting might have been expected for SUITS’ “comic relief” character, but 84 years of it, complete with inappropriate touching, wasn’t exactly the way to start season 8.5 off with a bang. And the blatantly unprofessional behavior, all for the sake of what amounts to a pre-pubescent boy’s idea of comedy, didn’t stop there. When Harvey’s case of the week inevitably went down a troublesome path and, at Robert’s insistence, Harvey approached Louis about the case…Well. This happened: “I intend to be the world’s best delegator. If I’m going to do that, there’s no way I can try to tame you. And what I definitely can’t do is put a saddle on you, much less try to ride you bareback.”

Har, har. Louis doesn’t understand that “ride you bareback” can be seen as sexual. All the comedy!

Even when Harvey expressed his discomfort with the metaphor, Louis just plowed right on with it. There was also a fair amount of arm-caressing, complete with a finishing “giddyup!” and slap on the ass. (Because we hadn’t seen enough of those. Just locker room behavior, I guess. Forget the increased focus on workplace harassment, especially in film, following the #MeToo movement…)

Even if that exchange was read for the intended humor, there was still the small matter of Louis being, at least initially, incapable of doing any managing. When one of his longtime clients needed assistance, he threw a tantrum, refusing to give the client up, even after Donna reminded him of his job duties.

By the end of the SUITS mid-season premiere, after a pretty big confrontation, in which Donna — rightfully — reminded Louis that she was the one who put him in the position of managing partner, Louis was finally ready to manage. After being given the case, then yanked off of it, Alex was able to help Louis’ client, Thomas Kessler, solve all of his problems; the Robert and Harvey situation was handled with a “genius” suggestion from Louis himself; and everyone lived happily ever after.

For now.

Remember when Harvey had no idea how to behave like a managing partner until Donna taught him? Yeah. Louis is no different. We love consistently substituting one character for another in a recycled plot!

“This is about handing Andrew Malik a big, fat public knockout.” On Louis’ first day as managing partner, Harvey showed his respect for his frenemy-turned-boss by showing up late to work. But contrary to assumption, he didn’t oversleep after having nightmares about making Louis managing partner: He was busy researching his latest chance to go after his arch-nemesis, Andrew Malik.

Ostensibly, Harvey’s reason for going after Malik was that he wanted to get some justice for Jessica Pearson. Which, ok. We’ll believe that. But I’ve got a bridge to sell anyone who thinks it wasn’t, at least partially, about Harvey’s inability to handle the fact that the other man had beaten him — and on more than one occasion.

The case-of-the-week had to do with a boxer throwing a match, which left the SUITS writers plenty of opportunities to give Harvey sport-related dialogue. (No, no. Not the usual opportunities for Harvey to talk in sport-speak, extra ones!) There were also plenty of chances for Harvey to step into the ring in something other than his business suit, but alas. Those opportunities were missed.

Anyone who watches SUITS for the cases and is sorely missing the Harvey-Mike dynamic probably loved “Rocky 8.” The reason? New OTP, Robert Zane and Harvey Specter. Rarvey? Hobert? Zecter? Who cares what the name is: These guys are amazing together, even in an otherwise weak episode. All of that classic SUITS banter was back; and it was finally, finally time to see Wendell Pierce and Gabriel Macht working together for more than the half-second spurts that they seemed to share in the first ten episodes of the season. Take a guy out of the managing partner role, and he suddenly exists. Who knew?

Aside from Harvey’s complete lack of a soul when faced with the decision of whether or not to throw a guy with brain damage and a family to provide for under the bus, the latest round of Specter (and Zane!) vs. Malik was about as well done as could be expected. And when the job ended with an actual win for “our” side, it was the type of nice wrap-up that SUITS just usually doesn’t provide.

Sure, Malik’s parting words were a clear threat, just to let viewers know that we’d (obviously) see him again, but: “Tomorrow’s going to be what tomorrow’s going to be, Andy. But for today? Jessica Pearson sends her regards.”

We’ll take it.

Things we won’t take: Donna, what are you doing? Let’s try to keep this as brief as possible because SUITS is exhausting with the lack of follow-through or attention to its own canon details.

Thomas Kessler is a client at a firm at which Donna Paulsen is COO. But despite her “rules” about not shitting where she eats, she just couldn’t resist flirting with the guy and giving him a pet name: Stupid.

(Pretty sure she’s used that one on Harvey, too. Or was it Dummy? Something.)

Donna has broken this rule before, with disastrous results. Remember Stephen Huntley from that (awful) British invasion plot? Right.

So, to be clear: Twelve years of shameless flirting, putting themselves on the line for each other, and clearly being more than just secretary and boss meant nothing when it came to Harvey. Or, well. It meant enough to force the man into being what he hated most — unfaithful — before Donna said she felt nothing. And it meant enough for Harvey to end his first supposedly “real” relationship in, like, ever because he chose Donna over Paula.

…but the rules always applied to Darvey, whereas they don’t to Donna and Louis’ surprise longtime client, whom no one has ever heard of before now. There’s no history there, nothing to make this worth breaking a rule — much like Stephen wasn’t worth it. Though, to be fair, Stephen came around early enough in the series that he could’ve been used as either a stepping stone or a lesson learned, neither of which were actually the case  — but hey, let’s have Thomas flirt with Donna and ask her out. Even when she says no because he’s a client, let’s have him promise to ask her one more time after she’s had a chance to “think” more. (Women love being pursued after they’ve turned a guy down, totally. Nailed it.) Because she, apparently, wasn’t thinking when she was trying to be professional.

Was there chemistry? Who knows? Quite frankly, why does anyone care 8.5 seasons in? Shoutout to Stu, who, like Harvey, has chemistry and an established history with Donna but will never be a thing with her.

And after a long-awaited, likely completely off-screen, girls’ night with Gretchen, Katrina, and Sam, Donna will make the decision to date Thomas. Because why not?

It’s not exactly as if either Donna or Harvey’s character development matters, when SUITS can constantly rewrite its own stories anyway.

But wait! There’s more!

“I want this firm to be the same as it ever was.” So, constantly on the verge of collapse? Always with the drama? Retelling the same story over and over again for 8 years? Cool!

“Have you met Samantha Wheeler? I’m not going to make an enemy out of her.” The mood.

“Robert, did you know there are 12 different synonyms for the word ‘incompetent?’” “And after he signs this, there’s going to be a thirteenth: Malik.” I ship it.

“With you overcoming the difficulties of being white, you must’ve thought you’d never make it.” “And you, having to deal with the struggles of being a man.” Meanwhile, Samantha had to overcome institutionalized misogyny, while Alex had to prove himself in spite of the color of his skin. But that’s none of my business.

“I will no longer be getting your coffee, getting your car washed, or trimming your neck hair.” Thankfully, it turns out that Gretchen was joking and has never done any of those things…which begs the question of why Donna was ever, especially as COO, expected to have coffee ready for Harvey.

Speaking of: “There’s this little thing called a kitchen. Just walk down the hall, past reception, and take a left at ‘I’ve never heated up your coffee, and I’m not about to start now.’” So, the mutual delivery of coffee was personal — or just seen however viewers wanted to see it. Noted.

“I know Jessica was your mentor, but she was also my friend.” Imagine getting to call Jessica Pearson your friend. Legends only, here.

“And for the record, my playbook is a lot deeper than just Samantha Wheeler.” “So, she did it for you then.” “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Samantha is to Robert as Donna is to literally everyone else. The end!

I counted at least two references to “co-ed bathrooms” as the biggest joke/worst thing ever. Your home bathrooms, Target’s family restrooms, Starbucks’ gender neutral bathrooms, and countless single-stall/single-sex toilets across the country say hi. Har, har. So funny, though.

Not a fan of pitting Samantha and Katrina against one another. Am a fan of Katrina figuring out who she wants to be as a lawyer (yet another lesson from Donna, of course) and, eventually, establishing herself amongst the other major players.

Big, big fan of a ladies’ night…whether we get to see it or not.

“Do I look like I don’t have nothing to do but to come and watch ROCKY VII with your lonely ass?” Darvey? I don’t know her. Rarvey (or whatever we’re callingn them) is where it’s at.

Don’t miss the next all-new SUITS episode on Wednesday, January 30, at 10/9c on USA.

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[chamrosh]

so a few days ago, I wanted to draw while watching tv as a change to music, and Friends came on, and like

wow it’s aged awfully

and wow it’s offensive

season 1, episode 9. Joey walks in wearing make up, he looks fine? Like, the lipstick’s a little more obvious than ideal, but legit, he looks fine, it seems like less make up than stage actors have to wear from my experience, and yeah. He looks fine.

Monica asks what’s going on, and Joey says he’s now part actor, part model.

Chandler’s first line in the whole episode is... “No, you look part he, part she.”

And just yeah.

and the whole episode, he spends making jokes about Joey not looking manly enough, or doing unmanly things like being employed as one of santa’s elves, or dating a single mum, and yeah.

Chandler is just an awful human being.

and... then Joey gets employed as a model for a STD awareness poster, and there’s this running “joke” about his family abandoning him at Thanksgiving because they think he has syphilis, and like...???? no??? that’s not a thing to joke about? It’s not that it’s offensive (it is) but getting kicked out by your family is not funny. Especially as the episode is sort of trying to frame it as people thinking that Joey is gay, and I think they didn’t want to make Joey come off badly to their producers and all, because I mean. HIV would fit that plot better, but producers might not like certain audiences being able to see a character who comes across as almost confirmedly gay.

Then Ross’s ex-wife, and her wife are framed entirely as villains - and the thing of not making a minority villains so as to not paint the minority as bad is dumb, yeah, but if they’re your only members of a minority, you... probably shouldn’t do it - and Ross’s main plot line through the whole episode is that he’s doing things for his unborn baby’s wellbeing just to spite his ex-wife’s wife. They get way more subtle with this later, but Ross also spends progressively less time with his son as they get less hostile, and we don’t see his son for like 2 seasons at the end, so...? Apparently the only reason why your divorced dad would want to see you is to spite your mother’s new partner. And also, all lesbians are awful people

Monica’s entire plotline that episode is that she needs to cook dinner really well, and that she needs to cook 4 types of potato, except Rachel’s a moron and doesn’t bring the keys when Monica asks her to bring the keys, and it’s really really obvious that Monica is asking about the keys. Like... women’s concerns regard that they need to cook things and they need to stop being dumb. And I get that those are actual things for some people, but Phoebe gets no plot, Ross gets the plotline of getting to know his kid more, and Joey gets the plotline of getting a new job and his family abandoning him. The dudes get a better deal, yo.

Also, worth noting, that by the time they get back in the apartment, all the cooking has burned to ash. And yeah, Monica’s annoyed and all but like. Can you imagine how pissed off you’d be if your friends strong armed you into doing all the same work 3 more times in a row, and then they casually laugh about it later, and replace all your work with literally a couple of sandwiches? Can you imagine how underappreciated you’d feel, if your several hours’ work can be equated by like two sandwiches? So basically, her friends sort of portray it as all of Monica’s work doesn’t even matter. A woman’s work doesn’t matter. There’s no apology for it all being wasted by everyone, there’s no attempt to at least get a cooked meal done, even if it were just like, a heap of pasta, no. Absolutely minimal effort is what’s needed to replace what was lost when something made by a woman is destroyed.

Okay so I sort of just let it through because I wanted to give more of a chance and see if it was just that episode?

Next came season 1, episode 10.

Phoebe spends christmas playing messed up songs about her mother’s death in the cafe, which could have been funny, but the punchline is super obvious, and the only light they give to the scene is one of the verses about Pheobe’s mum’s ashes is interrupted by her going “lalalalallalala” loudly. So.

And then she’s interrupted by two really nerdy-looking blokes, who were debating if she was prettier than a supermodel or not, which is legitimately really cute, but then she starts dating one of them, and her plotline starts revolving around how David isn’t typically manly enough? That instead of a proper date, he shows her graphs and equations, and he’s genuinely excited, but they portray it as bad? Even though he genuinely wants to share what makes him happy with her, and that’s a good thing, because you sure don’t want to date someone who won’t let you into things they enjoy... but nope,it’s framed as him being a whiny wimpy loser, and Phoebe does the framing. And she demands he toss his work on the floor to kiss her, despite it all being neatly placed around and like yeah. that’s gonna be hours of sorting, I’m sure you can pick another counter, Pheebs. And at the end of the episode, she basically forces him to break up with her? He gets a job offer in Minsk, and he’s torn between going to the new job and breaking up with her. And I get why Phoebe wants him to go! She knows he’s happy at that job, and that’s fine! But instead of discussing it at all, she forces him into breaking up. If she’d done that after they discussed and realising he didn’t know, that might be different, but they don’t communicate about it at all. Phoebe leaves a guy heartbroken because she doesn’t want to talk to him, and because couples can’t just talk things over like people who have a shared language!

So in S1E9, Rachel wants to go skiing, and like half her plotline is jokes about her being awful at her job. And, yes, that fits her personality and history and all, and it gives her somewhere to grow from later, but you’re like “haha. i see. the joke is that women are awful at their jobs! how amusing.” She eventually gets given the money for a plane ticket because she’s just that awful at her job, but the thing with the keys and her being a moron happens. And in S1E10, again her plotline revolves around planes. She wants her boyfriend to come back from Rome, and his plane is delayed but she only finds out when at the airport. Okay, decent plot idea... but they never actually show it, we’re just told about it. And then she gets back from the airport, her jacket... that she didn’t leave with... is covered in mud, she has a mild cut to one lip, and yeah, she looks like she thinks she’s awful beat up. Maybe I’m judging injuries by the scale of “hey when I get a paper cut it bleeds for hours!” but still, it’s really not a big cut. And she tells - not shows, this is an offense against storytelling too - this story about a “literal whale of a woman”.

Like????? what???? you don’t like this woman who stole your cab, and the scriptwriters take this as an opportunity to both dehumanise the other woman and fatshame her. And they keep going on about how massive this woman is, rather than what she did to hurt Rachel (it turns out, mildly pull her hair, she tripped to get the cut lip), and Rachel seems more upset about her size than the hairpulling, honestly. So Rachel’s plotline... is actually.... about fatshaming a random lady who also needed to get a cab.

To new years’, Chandler invites his ex, who he broke up with because her laugh is annoying and she just generally annoys him. The second bit is fair enough, but it’s clear that he broke up more because of the first bit. And she’s portrayed as literally a giggling jack in the box demon thing. And like, I get this is a sit-com, and everyone’s an extreme? but... you can portray people as awful in a way that’s a little less just bad? Janice doesn’t get that Chandler isn’t interested, she messes up stuff at the party, she asks weird questions, y’know, stuff like that. And yeah, the take-away is that when men say their ex is crazy, they probably mean it... which is bad. Because like, women don’t just become worthless human beings as soon as dudes break up with them. People don’t have to be inherently awful for them dating to just not work, and they don’t even manage to get that right when those between the main cast break up (Being on a break does not mean not being open about stuff, Ross, or not wanting to discuss what you’re going to be happy with the other doing, and why were you on that break, huh?). Instead, Janice is reduced to just the most annoying laugh track they could manage without highlighting exactly how awful the studio audience laughing constantly is. I don’t even know how to phrase how awful it came across that there’s just this woman who’s there to embody the crazy ex-girlfriend trope and nothing else. Even if she tried to get to date Chandler again by small little tokens of stuff, then that’d be something? But no, as soon as you break up with someone, they have no value beyond being a crazy ex-girlfriend.

Note also, that the only female plotlines that aren’t more about a man than about her own storyline, are Monica needing to cook potatoes, Rachel having no ability to pick up basic requests, and Rachel wanting to go skiing and clear off so we don’t see her for an episode, and insulting all her friends in the process, and highlighting in turn how awful she is at her job. The female plotlines are all about romance, or about something sorta sexist. Women need to cook, women don’t understand things that are obvious, women need to leave, women are awful in the workplace.

I might do more of these rants about Friends being awful later. We’ve got the whole box-set, it’s not like I’d run out of material soon. But yeah, it’s aged absolutely awfully.

Lots of sexism, some homophobia, shaming of people with STDs, laughing at kids with rough backgrounds, shaming men who aren’t stereotypically manly, laughing at people whose conservative families kick them out, saying that all divorced dads are awful parents and only pretend that they care to spite your stepparent, that women will trick you into doing things you’re not sure you want to do, saying that women are all idiots, stating in Monica’s potato plotline that women in the kitchen need to bow down to whatever requests are put on them, even if it’s to make 4 different types of potato for one meal, and that their effort is worthless if it fails... Yeah, there’s a lot here.

I’d also like to point out that generally I don’t spend entire TV shows just thinking about the awful things they show but it was literally one of the first lines that made me go “well that’s not acceptable” and it sort of spiraled from there. Most TV shows i might notice one small thing, and not care because one small thing is normally going to be from a character flaw or whatever, and that’s fine. But when your not-okay ideas become entire 20 minute (40 minute in the case of Joey not looking masculine enough) storylines, without them being portrayed as not-okay at all, but as being sympathetic, and such? no. No no no. There’s lots of ways to handle sexist / whatever-ist ideas in your TV show in a way that makes it clear that there’s a maturity, and there’s ways to handle them that don’t light up the red flags in people’s brains even if they’re not fully explored and whatever. But these episodes just did nothing there.