#and GETTING FUCKING AUDITED (not me a client)

[scary-senpai]

So I was working on a little something for @wanpanmas...

What you must understand about me, is that I can never be normal about anything, ever.

Anyway, the prompt was supposed to be hot chocolate.

"What force, what brutality!" "Her power is surely on par with Tatsumaki's." "Thank God she can only manipulate desserts."

From the safety of HA Headquarters, Sitch and Sekinger surveyed the skirmish from every possible angle as it streamed across multiple televisions screens.

High up in the summits, the battle raged on—between the battered, beleagured heroes and the behemoth Swiss Maid that had somehow achieved sentience, and was now intent to wreck havoc across the snow-crested alps of K-City.

With a blood-curdling cry and a shake of her pigtails, the Swiss Miss dug her claws into the earth, ripped up a stretch of topsoil and began to wrap the earth around itself, layer by layer—as if storing a yoga mat, or a fruit rollup of some sort. Tanks, armored cars, entire infantry divisions—all abruptly squished together and immobalized like so much cream filling.

"A Swiss roll attack," Sekinger said. "We should have guessed."

"Metal Bat. Garou. Come in," Sitch spoke frantically into his ear piece. "Are you still there?"

"We're still here." Badd's voice came through, but barely. "We got lucky."

Garou's connection wasn't much better. "How's the backup situation?"

"I'll have to check." Sitch's assistant switched the video feed—bad news, all of it. Every city was beset by its own mascot disaster:

- Q City: Overrun by malevolent Tropicana Oranges. Watchdog Man, trapped in an endless game of fetch.

- A City: Plagued by Coca Cola Polar Bears. Zombieman was rapidly losing limbs.

- In Smelly Lid Prison, the Kool-Aid Man barrelled through wall after wall of reinforced concrete. Most of the prisoners had been freed, but Puri Puri had been buried under several cartloads of rubble.

Sekinger and Sitch looked at each other grimly. Their silence spoke volumes.

"Don't everybody answer at once." Garou's disdain was evident.

"And what about Caped Baldy, huh? What's he up to?"

Sitch cleared his throat. "We don't know. Nobody can reach him."

.......

While the K-City Alps were in shambles, the city below was fine.

Shielded from the fracas by several picturesque mountain ranges, the citizens went about their normal holiday preparations—stringing lights, decorating trees, and exploring the scenic Christmas Market that had popped up in the City Square.

As always, the line for hot chocolate snaked halfway across the block. It wasn't Saitama's idea of a good time, but Genos finally had a day off, and this is what Genos wanted to do with it. So Saitama had tagged along, for support.

Besides, it was nice to see the kid get excited about something other than murder, for once.

Saitama switched his phone to "silent" and mentally prepared himself for another lecture on wave machines.

"Wave mechanics," Genos corrected. "The Hot Chocolate effect is a phenomena of wave mechanics wherein—"

"—face it, Gen. It's a cool idea but that chocolate's never getting out of the swimming pool. It's way too sticky to put in a wave machine.”

"…indeed." Genos deferred to his sensei with a polite nod, and then gently changed the subject to something more accessible.

"Thank you for accompanying me today, Sensei. Are you sure that the Hero Association does not require your presence? They are often short-staffed during the holidays."

"Oh yeah," Saitama said, checking his pager. "I'm getting all these messages about the Swiss Miss. Isn't she supposed to be neutral?"

"Switzerland is a famously neutral entity," Genos confirmed. "Perhaps they refer to the Swiss Guard."

"That would explain why they’re Threat Level God,” Saitama murmured. “Well. I’m sure the Pope can handle it.”

Saitama promptly slipped his phone back into his pocket and went back to thinking about chocolate swimming pools.

[to be continued]

---

Author's note:

Maybe one day I'll write a fic without footnotes, but today is not that day.

The Hot Chocolate Effect

The Swiss Guard

[whimsiwitchy]

I hear the secrets that you keep (series)

chapter one: a new beginning

Pedro Pascal x F!reader 

series masterlist

series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and it slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.

Warnings: plus size reader (no specific description of reader, slight descriptions of weight: stomach fat, stretch marks, etc.), hefty age gap (24 years/14 years), female anatomy description, she/her pronouns, use of gendered terms (girl, girly, etc.), y/n used, descriptions of nudity, swearing,  use of the word fat, warnings may change as the story progresses. 

authors note: Hi everyone. This is my first time writing anything, so this might end up being pretty bad lmao. I kinda have an idea of where I want to take this and want to continue this even if no one reads it. Please let me know what you think! Thank you and enjoy. <3

chapter summary: Angie books y/n an audition opportunity and she is terrified. Y/n reflects on her insecurities and heads to the audition room. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

It was 9am and you’ve been staring at an email Angie had sent earlier in the morning. The subject read “AUDITION INFO BIATCH”. This would usually be deemed pretty unprofessional for an agent to send a client but Angie wasn’t just  your agent, she was also your long time best friend. You both had big dreams of making it big in Los Angeles and made the move six years ago. While you continued to search for acting jobs, Angie decided to become an agent after years of no luck. You wished you could give up, maybe gain some happiness back instead of having constant disappointment running around your head like it was trying to win a goddamn gold medal at the olympics. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Good morning sunshine, 

You have an audition scheduled for 3PM tomorrow! I attached all the details down below. If you need anything, give me a call babe! 

Sincerely, 

Angie Hawthorn (aka the best agent ever hehe) 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You read over the email and clicked on the files attached. One file was the original casting call information describing what they are looking for and a description of the project. The other was an audition offer explaining what you needed to prepare and where the audition would be held. You clicked on the casting call file and began to read it. 

“Fleeting Productions presents Risky Disco directed by Samual James.”

You stared blankly at the first sentence. “That is such a stupid fucking move title..” you huffed under your breath. You shook your head and continued reading. 

“Starring Pedro Pascal as Daniel Mendez. Daniel travels back in time to the 70s to live his dream of being a disco king. On his journey, he takes lovers every chance he gets and swears to himself that he won’t fall in love.” 

You picked your phone and called Angie. When she answers the phone she greets you with excitement.

“Y/n! Oh my god are you excited?!? This can be your big break. Your first audition for a big production company!!” You stared blankly at the wall while she spoke. “You’re fucking with me right? Like you have to actually be fucking with me..” You said with exasperation. She was silent for a moment. “What do you mean? This is great y/n. I’m not sure-” You cut her off before she could continue. “Angie, I need you to be so fucking for real right now. Did you read that shit show of a description?” She didn’t answer for a moment. “What’s so bad about it?” “Ang…you’re telling me, you saw this casting call, and thought of me? You have known me for how long? What about me is screaming 70s lover girl to a disco maniac? First of all, I'm fat. You know F A T. Fat girls don’t exist in the 70s it’s like-” The line goes dead. “Hello? Ang I’m trying to rant to you over here, don’t you care?” You looked down and noticed she hung up on you. “That stupid bitch.” You say in aggravation. As you go to call her again, a text pops up.

“Call me when you’re done being a self shaming loser <3”

You sighed and sat your phone down. You know that what you say isn’t always nice and you also know that Angie can’t stand when you talk down on yourself. It’s become a bad habit you can’t seem to break. You grab your water bottle from your night stand, take a sip, and continue to read over the audition information. 

“Our casting directors are looking for 12 women from the ages 35-40. All weights accepted. All skin tones accepted. One role will be filled as the leading lady alongside the leading male. The 11 other roles will be filled as lovers of the leading male. Each role may include sexual acts with a male actor as well as partial or full nudity. All actors will work closely with an intimacy coach before all scenes.” 

Okay, you definitely owe Angie an apology since they're throwing a weight limit out the window on this film. This film has the potential to be very… wait what the fuck does that say? You pick up your phone to call Angie again. 

“Are you done being a loser?” 

“Angie, honey, darling, my love…Why does it say that the age requirements are 35-40? I’m trying to be very calm about this right now but I really need to know what you were thinking in that little pea brain of yours? Hm.. a 24 year old auditioning for a role that is for a middle aged woman, what was the thought process behind that one love?” 

“Y/n I need you to keep that calm demeanor when I tell you this. Can you do that?” You think about your answer and sigh. “Yes I can do that. Spill the beans.” “Okay so, I might have sort of lied and said that you were 35…” You stood silent on the other end for a few seconds. “YOU DID WHAT???” “Y/n calm down it-” “HOW IN THE WORLD IS MY FRESH 24 YEAR OLD BABY FACE GOING TO PRETEND TO BE 35?? HUH ANGIE??” “Well you don’t have that much of a baby face, you can pull off 35.” “I’m gonna hang up now before I actually kick you in the head.” You hung up the phone and screamed into your pillow. 

It can’t be that hard to pretend to be 35 right? You sat up and set your head in your hands and took some deep breaths. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

After your mini freak out yesterday you went to work and got home at 8pm. You showered, ate, did some rehearsing, and hit the hay. You woke up at 7am the next morning and began getting ready for your audition. You searched pinterest to look for an appropriate outfit for a 35 year old. As you descaled your closet, you began to feel hopeless. After settling for an outfit, you headed to the kitchen to eat some breakfast and do some warmups. As it got closer to audition time, you started to feel the nervous butterflies entering your tummy. You took your phone off the charger to send Angie a quick text. 

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you yesterday, please forgive me my love. ♥ ️ Also OOTD, do I look 35? Oh and why the fuck are they casting that age for a disco movie… Love you!” You went to sit your phone down but immediately got a response from Angie. 

“It’s okay, you don’t look a day under 40 babe <3. And girl idk. I think it’s because Pedro is pushing 50.” 

“Okay fuck you. Who’s Pedro?” 

“Ummmm… the leading male. Like the whole ass dude you're probably going to be getting down and dirty with if you get this part. Did you not look him up?” 

“There ain’t no fucking way you lied about my age so I can bump and grind with a 50 year old man… I’m actually going to kill you.”

“Girl he’s hot as fuck, I’m doing you a favor. Who gives a shit if he's old, he can get it ANY day ;)” 

“You’re fucking gross dude. I gotta head out soon to try to beat a little bit of the traffic. Wish me luck. Love you!!”

“Love you girly, break a leg!”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You turned into the studio lot and parked when you found the building the auditions were being held in. You’ve been to the studios more times than you can count, but this time felt different. This time felt real. You entered the building and walked up to a woman at a desk. “Hi, I’m here for an audition.” You smiled and she handed you a form to fill out. Once you were finished you handed it back to her and she instructed you to wait until your name was called. You looked around as you sat and waited. There were only 4 other women waiting in the room. As you looked at them, all of your insecurities started to pour out. This was not the time to be doubting yourself. You settled on looking down at your shoes instead. Each woman was called back one by one until you were the only one left. 

“Y/n Y/l/n?” You got up and greeted the man that called your name. As you followed him to the back your heart began to pound. Once you got to the door, you shook out your nerves and plastered the most sincere smile you could muster. 

You opened the door and walked up to a table in the back of the room. You shook everyone's hands and handed them your material. You stood in the center of the room and began your slate. After the prepared material was performed, they asked you various questions. You were answering with all honesty. Even flying by their questioning of your age. “Your paper states that you're 35. You look really young for that age.” You gulped “Just good genes I guess.” You gave them a laugh and a smile to which they returned. “We’re going to have to do a quick reading with some sides from the movie if that’s okay with you?” “Of course, that would be great!”.

You got into character as they handed you the slides. “You’ll actually be reading with the leading man himself. Pedro, whenever you’re ready go ahead and start.” You looked over to where the man looked when he spoke. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at who they spoke to, Pedro you assumed. He smirked as you stared. How didn’t you notice him before? With a face that handsome, you’re thankful you somehow skipped over it. He for sure would have had you shaking with even more nerves. 

“You ready to start sweetheart?” You could have melted into a puddle right then and there. After a few seconds of silence you collected yourself. “Yea, I’m ready.” He gave you a smile and looked into your eyes. The two of you flowed through the lines with ease. It was like butter melting perfectly on a warm piece of toast. The type of toast that is so perfect, you don’t need to add jelly at all. It’s golden and beautiful. The chemistry between you two was golden. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

4 hours later…

The reading with Pedro was intense. There are no other words to describe it. Everything felt so natural and it was electric. The whole room got 10 degrees warmer by the end. Once the reading was over, everyone thanked you for your time and you were dismissed. You thanked them and gave a quick bye. You tried to sneak one last glance at Pedro but he was already looking at you. These memories that happened just a few hours prior keep swimming in your head. No matter how hard you tried to think about something else, you couldn’t stop thinking about the handsome man and how he looked at you.

You’re yanked out of your thoughts when your phone starts ringing. It was Angie. 

“Hey Ang, what’s up?” 

“Bitch….you must have left one hell of an impression.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Y/n you got the lead!” 

“Oh shit..” 

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝ 

Thank you for reading <3

chapter two

[octuscle]

You’re so good at transforming others so I was wondering if I could thank you by transforming you. Who do you want to become? 😊💪

I am almost 27 years old. I graduated from university almost two years ago. Since then, I have been working for an auditing company, auditing the risk management systems of banks. Not a particularly erotic job. But well paid. I travel a lot and my working hours are also less from 09:00 to 17:00. Not good conditions for getting back into shape. I used to be a competitive athlete. Open-water swimming. My shoulders and back are still quite broad… But the waist is no longer as narrow as it was in my best days. Well… The course of life, I would say…

Sunday morning. Normally I would sleep in, go somewhere for breakfast, then maybe do a bit of work. But today I feel like going for a run. At 06:00 in the morning. In the drizzle. I'm really crazy! But running clears my head. After just under an hour, I pass an outdoor gym in the city park. Yawning empty in this weather, of course. I really enjoy it! It's almost 10:00 when I get back home. Now for a hot shower. Uh, no. A cold shower! Hardens off. And then breakfast. Low-fat quark, protein powder, bananas, some fruit. Doesn't taste particularly good. But gives me the energy I need. A bit of Resident Evil 3 to relax. And around 3 p.m. I have to make my way to the stadium. Kick-off is at 5:30 p.m., and I'd like to be in my regular place in the south curve at 4 p.m. Getting in the mood with the boys. Highlight of the week!

Hehehe, that was a good brawl with the opponent's fans last night. That's a good black eye… And my lip is still a bit swollen too. Looks a bit dangerous. Despite the crisp white shirt, navy blue suit and polished black Oxfords. Even after a year on the job, I still haven't got used to getting up early on Mondays. Mondays are usually at 03:30. An hour of push-ups and a bit of weights training, as best I can at home. And then get ready, go to the airport and usually the plane takes off at 07:00 or so. And then I'm back to being the good auditor candidate. It's not as if the job isn't fun. But especially after the weekends, which are packed with hard training and fun with the lads in and around the stadium, the changeover is tough. I can only hope that none of my customers or colleagues ask me who beat me up like that at the weekend. I can't say that I'm one of the militant Ultra fans… Well, if anyone asks, I'll say that it happened during boxing training. They'll take my word for it. At the latest when I take off my jacket and people see my shirt, which looks like it's been painted onto my skin, nobody questions the boxer in me anymore.

05:30 on a Tuesday morning. An hour's run, then an hour's workout in the hotel gym, breakfast, 09:00 at the client's desk. A routine that I would never have expected a few weeks ago when I was doing my Master's degree. With your criminal record, the blatant undercut, the tattoos on your neck and the back of your hands, you'll never get a serious job, my parents complained. But damn it, I'm clever, I'm disciplined and I'm hungry for success. In the cage at MMA, in the fan curve at the stadium, at university and now at work. And fuck, when I show up at a customer's in a suit that perfectly accentuates my athletic figure, I'm surrounded by an aura of respect. Even if I'm the rookie in the project. For the first few days, my colleagues tried to persuade me to go out for dinner or a drink with them in the evening. Not in the mood! I found a club near the hotel where I can train properly in the evenings. Not the kind of wimpy workout I get at the hotel.

I'm so fed up with this fucking Master's thesis. Pumping, eating, fighting… This is what I live for! I've been working at the martial arts school since I got my bachelor's degree. On the one hand in accounting. And also as a trainer. Shit, why do I even want anything else? Would I like it better if I became an desk jockey in some office? I suspect not.

I love the moment when I open my gym in the morning. The sweat from last night is still in the air. Whoever had the last shift yesterday didn't leave anything tidy. I do my rounds and stuff forgotten socks, jockstraps and water bottles into the lost-and-found box. Okay, I wank on it again first. There's nothing like the smell of a used jockstrap that's still a little damp. I don't officially open for another hour, so I have that long to get my body ready for the day with the weights and sandbag. Let's see how full it gets. The place isn't yet self-sustaining. But with my jobs as a bouncer and my OF account, I'm more than able to keep my head above water. At least my tattoo artist doesn't have to worry about me not paying my bills. It's better that way. After all, it's his job to make sure I'm scary!

[mpregeminem]

I READ THE ANGEL KAMES FIC …. ough 😭 such a shame it’s unfinished. the fact that all of that went on in the span of 5 days kinda blew my mind like you’re telling me 100k+ words and it hasn’t even been a week? this is the slowest burn to ever burn. anyways do you have anymore fic recs 🫶

HI HIIII im so glad you like it yessssss!!!!!! and literally the way they make you wait saur long for them to even like eachother in any capacity had me climbing the walls that night...... and the WINGS bro......bro what if i wanted you to keep me safe and warm in a cocoon of your own flesh forever.. haha i mean-

and i doooo :) i've been saving this ask because i wanted to do a thorough list from my laptop, but i'll rec some of my favorites so far right now, and maybe some i've been meaning to read, but haven't yet

i have read and rec:

We could take it to the highway by skyline

kendall has to go back to minnesota and james offers to travel with him through the states. REALLY nice i loved skyline's writing and depiction of the boys' inner struggles. very grounded to the show's pillars and their dynamic really hit with me. i rec this to everyone who will listen because i liked it a lot lol <3

How to stop a haunting also by skyline

supernatural universe kames baybayyy. honestly all of skyline's works are so worth it, i still have a few of theirs to read but i strongly recommend the author in general (i rec more fics of their below but there's way more, i don't want to make the list too long hehe)

Lost without you by mintrosy

ANOTHER instant fav author. the guys suffer a shipwreck and kendall gets badly hurt. and they have to cauterize the wound and so on. very nice and sweet despite that description i just gave skdjsh

mintrosy also has a kames omegaverse series, lost bets (porn lol, kendall in lacy and james going apeshit), Sharing is caring, Dude (short and sweet fic about the four of them sharing outfits <3). honestly they have a tonn of fics so you can go to their profile and go bananas

Never did run smooth by ItsyRoyal

the first btr fic i read this year i think? so it has a special place in my heart <3 pinning kendall and oblivious james, very in-canon

Patrón on ice by skyline

james/camille/kendall because jamille is my guilty pleasure lol. very funny, james has a date with two beauts and doesn't know what to do with himself.

now for fics i haven't read yet but intend to:

Sweet people by xAnimaniac (50k words)

Kendall is a lawyer, always determined to stick to business. And even after losing his husband three years ago, he's not looking for any kind of relationship. Then he meets his new client James, who is a druggie accused of murder, rude and flirty and absolutely everything Kendall never thought he'd be into. So why does he like him so much?

I tell you I'm lost here (awaiting reply) by jaded_jane (30k words)

Gustavo allows James a second attempt at an audition and offers to make him a star when he likes what he hears. James jumps at the chance, and once he's gone to L.A., Kendall's left to hold everything and everyone together. As days go by, Kendall forces James a little further back in his mind, especially as contact goes from limited to non-existent and promises aren't kept. It's only then that Kendall realizes that the people he loves, leave him and never look back.

It's so hard to breathe by skyline (11k words)

“So you let Dak Zevon fuck you,” James says, and this time he doesn’t bother amending his word choice. “Interesting decision.”

right now im rummaging through EpicallyObsessed's ffn page but haven't read anything yet. they have a looot of long kames fics, mostly AUs.

Same with RainbowDiamonds, the author of the angel kames fic in question <3

hope this helps!! if you want let me know if you end up reading any of these ♥️

[runningfrom2am]

all my ghosts - (d.s)

an ‘on the one screen in my town’ oneshot

summary: drew gets cast as the love interest in mason's newest music video.

this is set after 'kinda famous' but before the rest of the plot! this was also a request from @winterrrnight and i cannot disappoint my girl duh

watch the mv i based this on here!

wc: 1.2k

tags/warnings: none!! unedited?? intentional use of lowercase?? also a heads up that i did not come up with this song any of the lyrics or the music video!! all credits go to the original artist and her team (lizzy macalpine!)

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav/masterlists

series masterlist

"do you know who they casted yet?" este asks, brushing back mason's hair away from her eyes to pull it up in to a messy bun for the opening shots.

"no, no clue." mason replies, watching her friend in the mirror and trying to stay as still as possible.

"don't you get to make these decisions?" este laughs, throwing the bun loosely into a scrunchy and reaching for her bobby pins to secure it.

"nope." mason giggles. "but i trust my team. i just said someone who gives kind of a 'boy next door' vibe but in a very relaxed way, who's taller than me, and doesn't look like he's forty."

"jeez, lower your standards." este chuckles, shaking her head. "i'm sure they found the perfect person. it'll be so, so good."

"i'm a little nervous." mason admits. "it's my first single after the last album, after the breakup- i don't want to disappoint anyone. you know?"

"i get it." este nods. "but this song is amazing, the video will do it justice. i know it." she assures her friend, leaning down to get a better look at her hair in the mirror. "i think you're ready! just don't throw your hair around too much. it takes a lot to perfect a messy bun."

mason smiles and turns her head to look at her makeup and hair, grinning in satisfaction. the bags under her eyes were emphasized and her brows darkened, but the rest of the makeup was meant to look very minimal. "i'll be careful." she assures her friend, standing up and stretching out.

"mason! we're ready for you." one of the producers is sticking her head in the door of the trailer, and the star quickly adjusts her costume, sweat shorts and a tank top before following her out, waving goodbye to her best friend who is already getting ready for her next client; mason's costar.

mason goes out and shoots a couple casual shots, walking into the corner store and browsing at a few different aisles and coolers. they don't know what will make the final cut just yet, but they'll gather an array of footage just in case.

"okay, we're going to get you guys together now, just act natural, have a look around and be very casual but definitely make it your own. it'll make it real- but we can always try again." the director says and mason nods, looking past her as the bell on the door rings and they bring in her costar.

mason stands on her top toes to look over the shelves in front of her, and smiles wide when she sees who they had casted. "drew! hi!" she grins, quickly making her way over and dodging cameras and mic's to give him a hug.

"hey, mason." drew smiles, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"oh my god!" she laughs, quickly pulling away. "i didn't even know you auditioned!"

"well, i thought i wouldn't tell you until i got it. it would be embarrassing if i didn't, hey?" drew chuckled. "and then i figured i'd just see you here."

"of course you would get it, are you joking?" mason smiles, hugging him quickly again. "i'm really glad you're here. this will be fun."

"it sounds like it." drew nods, that ever lovely smirk present on his lips.

"basically, we're just fucking around and they're filming it. minimal acting required." mason shrugs as drew slips an arm over her shoulders.

"perfect- let's do this." he nods, quickly pressing a kiss to the side of her head before moving away.

"okay we're ready." the director says, grabbing their attention. "whenever you guys are, just act like we're not here."

"somehow that makes the pressure worse." mason giggles, shaking her head slightly and avoiding eye contact with him now.

"you know all the words, right?" drew asks, a teasing smirk on his face as they walk down the aisle, followed behind and ahead of them by cameras at different angles.

mason gasps, gently shoving him. "how dare you! i wrote every word myself. of course i know them." she giggles.

"okay, well, what's it about?" he asks, grabbing something random off the shelf and turning it over in his hand for just a moment before returning it to its spot.

"you haven't heard it? ouch."

"of course i've heard it. i just want to hear it from you."

"okay," mason nods, continuing to walk beside him slowly as she thinks it over. "it's about falling in love again after being heartbroken, i guess. like, everyone has something that has happened to them in their lives that kind of... haunts them. that they can't let go of, but you can grow around whatever happened and be happy again."

"i see." drew nods. "i get that feeling. it's an amazing song, by the way."

"thank you." mason says, pride evident in her voice along with a slight nod.

it only took a couple of days to shoot the whole thing, most of it just pulling random clips of drew and mason talking and giggling outside of the clips she filmed herself, dancing and singing to the lyrics of her own song.

the last one they filmed together had been the wedding scene, and drew was smiling like an idiot the whole time. the finalized clip only lasted a few seconds, but as he looked her up and down in the white dress, something in him had changed. usually acting to him was no big deal, he could compartmentalize himself from his characters, but this shoot had been entirely different with the producers pushing on them over and over to just 'be themselves'.

"okay! that's a wrap for drew." the producer called as they cut the cameras, the two of them standing face to face at the front of the church.

"thank you so much." mason smiles, reaching around him with the bouquet in hand to give him a hug.

he gladly returned it, gently rubbing her back. "thank you for having me. this was so fun."

"anytime! seriously." mason says, pulling back from the hug after a moment. she's in a bit of a rush to get out of this slightly itchy wedding dress, so she's already stepping down off the small preachers stage.

"hey, wait," drew calls after her, following on her heels as she turns to look at him. "are you free this weekend? to grab lunch or something?"

mason is taken a little by surprise at this, pausing in her step toward the costume tent. "i.. yeah! i would like that. maybe not this weekend, but i'll call you, yeah?"

"okay, yeah. whatever works for you." drew nods, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.

mason's cheeks are flushed as she looks up at him. "sweet. okay. i've got to get going, but i'll see you soon."

"yeah, see you soon." drew smiles, shifting his weight back onto his heels.

he lets her go, walking the rest of the way down the aisle dressed fully as if she was getting married today. he's quick to lift his hands and rub his palms over his face when he encounters the thought that one day he'd like to see her like this again, be marrying her for real. is he crazy? god, he hopes he isn't crazy.

as she passes off the bouquet to the prop girl, giving her a polite and grateful smile, drew knows he can't wait to see mason again. whatever that may take.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @alimaythings, @chenslucy, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @suzyheartsrafe, @maybankslover, @redhead1180, @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron, @realwifeofjackharlow

[siremasterlawrence]

The Voice

Part 1 - 2

On a video call with some agents that if I am lucky perhaps by chance they might be the perfect match for me as being my agency for both voice acting and acting to be my representation.

I set everything up for the video call as I am sitting prepped up when the call comes through loudly on and I hit yes to answerthe call and I knew it this was a once in a lifetime.

The video rolls on showing me to both of the guys they smile brightly at me, giving me a wave as we begin our conversation hitting the light flicking it off and they are left in a state of confusion.

Before they can say anything the lights go on and off blinking in multitude of different colors pulling them in to a calm state of my affairs and they starting to asking me a question.

I began to go on a long journey of who I am adding coded messages leading both guys to meet me who’s and we stare deeply in to each other I can see the wave of calmness over take them both.

I point my figures towards them both of their eyes roll back to the side, they fall backward in to the sockets and the eyelids close down on big and his head falls back on to the couch.

I get excited throwing a fist pump into the air showcasing my enthusiasm to enslave both men in a fit of lust and then I begin to tame myself sitting upward and rethinking every move.

A loud crackle rolls on with the snap of my fingers as they pull upward sitting straight in the chairs and stare blankly at the screen ready for my commands so I smirk taking a deep breath.

I take a second breath checking them out from head to toe seeing the handsome, tall glasses of water and I imagine using them for many things beside enslavement of the world.

“Hello Jamie and Ashley! You can hear my clear and audible.”

“As the sound of my voice upon your wake up call.”

“We shall surrender in to total enslavement for life.”

“Yes correct! I am your Master and you are fully accepting.”

“Will you serve me willingly?”

“Most of you are corrupt and I am saving you.”

“Your clients are number one”

“I am your most important client “

“You are my number one fan”

“All you want is it please me”

“Everything you know is a lie “

“Your existence is for me, by me and in solely in service for me.”

“Mwahahahahaha! Wake up call”

“Oh what the…”

“What was I doing ?”

“Audition”

“Oh no! Right Ashley “

“We want to represent you “

Part 3 - 4

“Mr. Hardy and Eloise get the fuck in here.”could be heard in the speaker pouring in to the rooms of both agents who sighed in total audience because they were going to head to lunch.

Tom stood up knowing he is the number one agent in this damn business but hey he is still being called like a god damn assistant from the past but he puts his big boy pants on entering the elevator.

The man smirks as he says take him to the penthouse but something is off as the door shuts close and all of sudden the room is swooped up in darkness with a strange resounding sound.

The elevator sped upward in to the sky as it shoots fast reaching the pent house as the door slides open and he exist on to the main floor confused at what happen it was as if time froze.

Everything is right he thinks for second even though he is not sure why it felt like his time stopped for entire day and as he walks even further unaware of the day having turned to night.

It is dark bluish night sky peering in to the room all else begins to fade as he sees the young man sitting in his chair and his boss who is sitting on top to his desk and looks like he is swooning a bit.

“You wanted my presence at the moment boss?”

“Yes indeed! Meet your new client “

“Glad you could make it! It’s obvious you have had a wake up call.”

“I am the best damn agent in this office! How dare you call me on the speaker with that attitude?”

“Oh you’re still going on about that! You shall move on from that and focus on me.”

“I am your focal point Ellis.”

“Why fight? When you feel so free”

“I am all you see, know and want”

“YYYEEESSS “

“You have my attention “

“Then kneel and wake up call”

“Yes Master! I am your humble manger “

“Kiss my hand and embrace me”

“Sense my power”

“Comprehend my place in your life “

“I love you….Master”

“Master Lawrence! You are my world “

“Command me”

“Rise to your feet “

“My team! The four of you will be my core team.”

“Your life is about me and making me a star is your business.”

The end

The Voice Part 2

Part 5 - 6

Thomas and Taron are the studio head sons at Warner Brothers man Executive who are in for a treat and have gone through far too many headshots for the first feature to star in.

They found their first two stars at the main coupe attraction when they called my agent and I agreed to meet them as all for my slave guys sat at the sides as they put on a performance.

The man slide finishes as they tell me the goal of a story, to tell the truth about a very young adult meeting a older couple and they would start a unique relationship it could be a movie of television show.

My interest is piqued hearing the story as it it told to me all I can do I snap my fingers as my team excuses itself and they exit the office for me and I start to discuss with my part.

They listen unaware of the subtle sound of music blast through the speaker lulling them in to a slow state, and I can seem begin to blink and their bodies sway to the sound of my voice.

I rose to my feet as they match me watching my hand lift in the air, I let me fingers come together snapping my finger and everything crackles as they wake up shocked at all of my ability.

“Tom! Do you have anything to say?”

“I am in awe of your power!”

“What are you saying?”

“You are so Masterful!”

“I cannot believe this “

“It’s the truth Master Lawrence “

“How about you Taron?”

“I love you “

“You are my world “

“We will write something phenomenal “

“You will be a star “

“Tom agrees “

Part 7 - 8

“Meet your new directors”

“Your names?”

“We are the directors “

“I am Henry”

“I am Charlie”

“How do you have so much influence “

“Bois is explain it to them “

“Master Lawrence knows all and sees all”

“I am everything to them and of you”

“What? Are you crazy?”

“That email you sent”

“Absolutely! Wake up call”

“Uuuuuggggghhhhhh!”

“Fffuuuccckkkk”

“We are primed Master”

“How can we make this experience perfect”

“My list of demands”

“Your will shall be done”

The end

[transparentlyfallingasleep]

7. How do you choose which POV to write from? (Especially for starbucks)

25. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

aw wow! People never ask me questions on here.

let’s see number 7. Honestly I tried to come up with a better answer than this but it’s just the vibe of the thing. The first story was really just a response to “Clint Barton shows up 15 minutes late with Starbucks” insert Troy with the pizza meme that was out in the ether post his absence in Winter Soldier. I decided to try making myself write from Natasha’s perspective after the Clint heaviness in marketplace etc but in the Starbucks sequel I just wanted to imagine/ write down the Robert Downey jr voice in my head reacting to spy kid 3D. And then they all joined in. Clint’s voice is my most comfortable place to be Natasha, Cap, Maria, Jarvis the least but I think that’s because being that fucking competent seems heptapod level alien.

25: I wish people read unfinished business more… it was my first story in the marvel space and my second fanfic ever. And I still kinda like imagining it’s running in the background of the avengers… and it could have too if not for that pesky Joss Whedon. I also I’m proud of my Game of thrones fic. It was an attempt to self sooth and I think it turned out rather well all things considered.

26. I’m not sure I do wild rides I’m definitely not much of a plot writer. I tend to focus on small intimate character moments. Probably because I suck even more at the other stuff, possibly because being a speech pathologist I’m better at getting voices of characters ‘right’ than I am at making things happen. But I am proud at how I salvaged age of ultron for the rewriting in Market Place and how much I was able to reuse, reduce, recycle might be surprising to readers.

39. So my clinic shut down suddenly in September. If you are Australian I will just say this about it. The NDIS and in particular the Government have been making it harder and harder to work as a paediatric disability clinician and hell bent on telling our clients that it’s because we are rorting the system. I didn’t want my clients to loose their therapeutic alliance and a speechie that has known them most of their lives so I started my own sole trading. It’s long hours, crazy stress and I don’t even know if I will be able to afford the audit come 2025 but for now my kiddos are safe and getting therapy. All the govt has managed to do is privatise the old block grant system and lie about choice and control and that’s all I have to say about that. As a result I’ve got no real WIPs but I have this… you can see that I write dialogue first.

If you’ve come to tell me I’ve besmirched my honour, that the castle is in an uproar… I care not. 

Your grace. 

Ser Davos I am no princess. 

The laws of the realm say

So Tyrion Lannister crowns my brother and frees the north for my sister and now I am smothered by titles? I knew I should have killed that-

Id never really thought about it like that Milady. Allow an old man a small courtesy? I accepted my title for services to Stannis Baratheon. Plenty of times I thought better of it but I did it for those who came after me. Lord Gendry well he doesn’t say, quiet sort that he is -

Surly 

As you say, but i think I’m right in saying he had similar thoughts. I don’t think either of us thought that there might be others on the other side of it. Born to the titles and the power and wanting none of it, wanting to be rid of it. 

He is a good lad lady Arya. Give him longer. He can’t stay this angry for long. 

I can’t stay ser Davos

Forgive me but I’ve lived longer on decking than I have on dry land or had till your brother made me hand. The tides they come again. Like circles they are. Why not tarry even if he’s determined to make himself unpleasant. 

He doesn’t have to put effort into that. He’s had it mastered for years. You are married Ser, children? 

Aye My Lady

[jamiesfootball]

was really expecting that leverage au idea to go a different direction & was honestly pleasantly surprised by the jamie + zava positioning. but i thought i'd share what i thought was going to happen!

roy's getting old, so the rest of the current team is trying to find sort of an apprentice for him to train to be their new hitter and then he can eventually take over for ted as mastermind when ted magically gets suspicion off of him and can go back home to be with henry.

they find jamie. and they're like this guy is perfect. he's got that doggedness that you have roy. you could kill him and he'd still get up and kick your ass. he's perfect. and roy's like no he's a fucking prick. he can't do this job, he's only good for the old shit i was doing. he doesn't fit with this team, he's too volatile and he doesn't think with his heart. so they let him go on his not-so-merry way, but ted and beard keep an eye on him and keeley also keeps an entirely separate, secret third eye on him.

[nebulous in between times]

they get jamie back and roy starts training him, and while roy is still not fully warmed up to him is when jamie almost ruins a job by taking time out to Solve some random kid's Problem dad.

idk who would be hacker in this case though. but nate (shelley) is sterling lol.

*Griiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiins*

See yes yes- I also began this idea thinking like, well if Roy is the Eliot stand in (and obviously like who else would he be), then Jamie would make the perfect sense as the Quinn. The up-and-comer bruiser who thinks he can take on The Roy Kent. He does well when he catches Roy off guard at first but then we have the iconic Quinn line-

“Why won’t you go down?!”

So yes I started there but then it occurred to me: the sass, the clothing, the obnoxious quality to talk at length, the younger guy who looks at Roy in a ‘no really are you an antique?” way. The one who can’t believe the cops are using cassette tapes for surveillance. The one who is casually charming and makes friends and enemies whenever he’s undercover. The one who lied about stealing Roy’s sandwich and feels no shame (it was a damn good sandwich).

(“D-E-D dead baby.” “D-e-a-d.” “I know how it’s spelled. I can hack a bank, I can spell ‘dead.’”)

It’s Jamie.

But the BUTTER ON THE BREAD THE THING THAT SEALED THE DEAL FOR ME IS THAT THIS MEANS JAMIE WOULD GET TO RUN THE BRIEFINGS. IN THAT ACCENT. WITH HIS UNIQUE BRAND OF TALKING.

“Now our client’s ex is this posh twat named Danthony. He’s worth eleventy billion dollars and his taste in classic cars is a fucking joke. The good news is his shell companies are messier than Roy’s chest hair, so it wan’t hard to find where he stashed the money. I also found some embarrassing footage from when he auditioned for Love Island *plays video* it was not fire.”

[we-are-inevitable]

going back to that tattoo artist/actor au. i think that davey- the actor, if you havent seen the og post- would get the tattoo as a little act of rebellion to remind himself that, even with this influx of fame, he can still be his own person. he’s not just playing a part in his own life.

because davey was quick to be on the big screen after his first few auditions, which he only did as a quick way to make a little cash. at the time that david is cast for his first huge role, he’s a college student studying to become a teacher, and really only auditioned because he could barely afford rent and one of his roommates ran away and dropped out of college and now he and his other roommates have to pay the landlord the runaway roommate’s portion of the rent and david can barely afford food for himself let alone pay another person’s share of the rent and he sees an ad online and thinks why the fuck not because otherwise he’s homeless and shit out of luck. and that’s when he goes in for an audition with only two years of high school theater under his belt.

he wasn’t going for a huge role- he was auditioning for a small role as a waiter in a scene, maybe, or maybe some sort of secretary background character- but he was captivating and had a natural charm that the casting director really enjoyed. push comes to shove, they ask for him to read for a different character, and that’s what gets the ball rolling for him to be cast as a lead in a different movie. it’s a whirlwind that happens so quickly over the course of a few months, and then comes the actual filming portion, and the post-production marketing, and interviews and press conferences and red carpets and this isn’t his world, it wasn’t supposed to be his world, but the movie does *so* much better than he ever expected and suddenly he’s hollywood’s new white boy of the week.

he loves it, but it’s an adjustment, and the tattoo is almost a reset for him.

because he’s a sentimental guy, the tattoo would likely be something inspired by his movie, and yes people may think of that in a very arrogant, self-important way- but truthfully, it’s because davey knows his life is never going to be the same, and he wants to commemorate that.

his next tattoo, again done by jack, is something important to his family. but for the most part, davey gets a tattoo for every project he feels proud of; he’s like a walking scrapbook of where his career starts and progresses, and it’s always fun debuting his new tattoos for his fans.

also, because i got a lot of asks about it— davey does a lot of coming-of-age roles when he first starts, like Call Me By Your Name and Lady Bird style. dramatic, melancholic, perfectly encapsulating the fear of growing up and longing to stay who you are but know there’s a change coming. he also dabbles in comedy, but they aren’t his favorite roles; he really just loves heartwrenching dramas!

i imagine this is because he kind of,, yearned for it when he was growing up, the drama and the pain. he was blessed with a great family. every time he wanted to rebel, like when he decided he was emo in middle school, or when he was caught smoking weed as a 16 year old, his family never cared, they just made sure he was safe. and that was so great, he appreciated it so much, but what is david jacobs without the unexplainable sadness sitting deep on his chest? he would feel better with a reason for being so depressed, because then he would have an explanation. he wouldn’t just be an ungrateful fuck up like he thinks he is. so he takes the heavier roles so he can pour all of that untapped angst into them and finally have the emotional releases he’s dreamed of.

anyway yeah davey is a regular Jack Kelly client <33

[v-the-nomad]

Holy fucking chrome, chica!

I just had a face-to-face with the one and only Dexter DeShawn. Can you believe it? My head's still spinning like a malfunctioning cyberware. It was nice. Surreal, but nice. Right now, I'm riding a high that makes Black Lace feel like kiddie candy.

Dex is… well, he's Dex. Smooth as synth-silk and cooler than a Militech cryo-unit. Just being in his ride felt like my street cred doubled. But don't worry, chica, I ain't lost my edge. Dex might be offering us the world, but he's still putting us through our paces.

First up, we've gotta deal with Maelstrom. You know, those chrome-crazy gonks who look like they're auditioning for "Adam Smasher: The Early Years." We're supposed to snag some military hardware from them - a bot, to be specific. Sounds simple enough, right? But here's the kicker - if we pull this off, Dex wants me to meet the client. Me, Persia. And not some random middleman, but the actual, flesh and bones, client.

You getting what I'm laying down here? This isn't just some run-of-the-mill gig. This is our ticket to the big leagues. One small step for V, one giant leap for nomad-kind, or some shit like that.

Jackie's already out there, sniffing around Maelstrom territory like a bloodhound on a scent. Me? I've got a date with a Militech agent. And chica, this might just be our golden ticket. This agent? She's pure corpo, Persia. All clean-cut suit and sharp edges. Haven't met her in person yet, but even from the brief pic I've seen, you can practically smell the ambition and corpo stink. But here's the real juice - she's been chasing a ghost for weeks. A whole Militech convoy, poof, gone without a trace. And guess who's got the missing goods? Our chrome-dome amigos in Maelstrom.

Now, Militech's still in the dark about their missing toys, and this agent? She's getting desperate. Weeks of searching with not even an enny to show for it. And you know me, Persia. I can smell an opportunity like a scav can smell fresh chrome. I'm thinking we can cut a deal - we feed her some intel on her precious convoy, and in return, she greases the wheels for us to snag that military-grade bot Dex is after. Two birds, one stone, and a whole lotta eddies.

It's a delicate dance, sure. Corpo types always are. But if we play this right, this buttoned-up Militech suit will be putty in our hands. We could come out of this smelling like roses and swimming in cred.

I can feel it, almost taste it, Persia. The eddies, the respect, the power. Night City's about to learn that us nomads aren't just dust and tumbleweeds. We're the fucking storm. Hear me roar.

delta and out, V

[eyelikemthicc]

⁣ Model: @Lorraine_Lionheart⁣ ⁣ 𝐋orraine Lorraine hourglass frame curvy terrain⁣ 𝐎mertà the oath the code lets go to the top or go broke…all in..no bluffing all or nothing ⁣ 𝐑isk taker age 7 first grand in my hand⁣ 𝐑eward is when delayed gratification defeat your impulse sensation⁣ 𝐀ssets over Liabilities, financial education ⁣ 𝐈nterest Compounding and Rule of 72 calculate when you double your loot ⁣ 𝐍o handouts begging…we on a planned route trekking ⁣ 𝐄quity, Property Plant and Equipment ⁣ ⁣ 𝐋osses are lesson, there is no success without failure⁣ 𝐈ts the courage to rise like a Phoenix from the ashes⁣ 𝐎ne glance at the yams..but im focused it tax season my clients love the bookkeeping genius⁣ 𝐍et Profit, Payroll Gusto, Tax Deductions ⁣ 𝐇ear me that loud and clear that LLC get taxed…twice…from experience a tax lien can fuck up ya life! IRS can take 50% of ya wages on-sight ⁣ 𝐄mployment-Self Tax 15% and FICA is 15% Prepaid Tax 𝐄xpense 20% keep the cash flow cushioned ⁣ 𝐀voiding external audit…internal control process is flawless⁣ 𝐑evenue minus expense…Net Profit or Net Loss, again its a lesson never a loss, gotta pay the cost to be the boss⁣ 𝐓ime is money and its tax season..fuck them yams for now..tryna get another grand ⁣ aint got to post… ⁣ im buzzing and bunking booming ⁣ 5 phone jones⁣ ⁣ https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp2HQ0buURw/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[artsy-hobbitses]

Henlo

Any tips for someone who's boutta be a uni student?

Oh man uh

- Escalating alarms for morning classes if you don’t do this already.

- Speak up. A lot. This goes hard for a lot for Asian students esp since our schooling system sort of pushes conformity/silence in the classroom, and it’s the absolute opposite usually in college where you are expected to actively participate in class discussion. Bit of a whiplash tbh.

- Build rapport with your lecturers if possible. Most of the time they’re pretty cool and respond well to interest in what they’re doing.

- Do and try things you never had the chance to before. The grades are important sure, but so is figuring yourself out in a pre-adulthood stage away from a ‘controlled environment’ (ie. home). Take that fencing class, try out a theater audition. Walk and explore on your own if you were never allowed to do that before this.

- Assuming you’re staying on or near campus, build rapport with your room/housemates. You’d THINK this is obvious, but I’ve heard horror stories and had an ex-friend who WAS that horror story.

- Take the free time to make money on the side if you want/can. Lots of my art college buddies, myself included, were already doing client commissions in our second and third years. This is the time to put yourself out there.

- Learn to not give too much of a fuck about social image. Movies lie. 85% of college students are shabby disasters and much more focused on their CGPAs/getting drunk or high or whatever new thing they’ve discovered instead of high school drama NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOU BEING A NERD OR SOCIALLY AWKWARD OR WHATEVER and the sooner you stop caring, the better. Genuinely, everyone’s a lot chiller than you think they’d be.

- Honestly, just enjoy the experience. I didn’t do very well academically, but my time in college did teach me a lot about the world/navigating it on my own.

[intosnarkness]

So IDK if any of you are interested, but I felt the need to write a sort of DVD commentary for Adding on Weight talking about easter eggs and inspirations.

General

Working title was "Die a Boring Death" but I decided that it didn't make sense past chapter 5.

I spent a lot of time trying to find something about longing, about wanting someone to want something. About wanting to be wanted, or wanting in general. I never found it and I'm not sure I like the title I landed on. 

(The song after the chapter is where the title is from.)

Chapter 1: Dial Drunk, Noah Kahan

I moved the timeline of the book because I wanted everyone to have more time to feel consequences. Kaz gets happy years before he gets imprisoned. Matthias is in Hellgate for longer. Everyone has a long enough time to actually work through the grief because I don't have to write YA where they're 17 years old.

Sir was originally 2 characters; a heavy and a talky guy. By the time I got to chapter 5 and knew what was going to happen when Kaz escaped, I knew I had to cut them to one. So we lost the talky guy and Sir just became more odious.

Kaz eats an apple because this is his Kobyashi Maru

The assignment was originally to wipe out the principal of the debt. Once I did math, that wasn't going to be near enough of an impetus.

The chef Kaz works for is named Kooken, which is just the Dutch word for "cook"

Chapter 2: Afraid of Heights, boygenuis

The party was not the original idea here, at the point of writing this chapter I didn't have the inciting crime totally figured out (originally Jordie just lost money he was carrying, but that wasn't good enough later to imprison and brutalize Kaz) and so I had this idea that he'd been breaking into the office of the brothel and doing like… audits that got him attention. And Pekka was going to send him to a Mercher's home to get their financial information. I scrapped that when I decided Pekka was going to be our major villain.

The entire point of this chapter was to get Kaz in eyeliner

No actually, the idea of Kaz being forced to sit on Pekka's lap and count cards came extremely early in the process, as did the idea of it being where Inej sees the potential. Originally she was going to be a Dreg lieutenant but I didn't want to have to deal with Per Haskell, so I gave her a gang of her own.

The tattoo knife thing would absolutely not work in reality. 

Card counting is not that reliable. 

The tray of glasses was a very late addition to the story, but I fell in love with the idea of Kaz having glass stuck in him that no one will help him with but Nina.

I always think the trope of a person sitting in the shadows waiting for another person is ridiculous because it implies that they broke in and sat in the dark for hours waiting. Doing fuck all. I still made Inej do it.

Chapter 3: Afraid of Heights, boygenuis

The chapter that boygenuis wrote, this whole thing is a mix between revolution 0 and afraid of heights

I just want to know/who broke your nose/figure out where they live/so I can kick their teeth in

There's been a run of fires downtown/On half-built construction sites/I know you never liked a townhouse/I've seen you climb a crane at night/If they ever catch you at it/I know you'd want me to be proud/That you took a rich man's dream/And brought it with you on your way down

Kaz thinks the Jam Tart House is a stupid name because I do. Who names a house that? But it's in the book!

They're drinking fantasy Strongbow at the night market.

Kaz crawling into Inej's bed is, to me, the saddest scene of this entire fic.

Chapter 4: Stick Season, Noah Kahan

A deck of cards and book of tricks gets left in Kaz's room, but he doesn't stop to think about who left them there. This is Inej, wanting him to want things.

"Good days" here is lying in wait for Jesper's question six chapters later. 

The client Kaz kills was an early idea, that he'd be set off by the word "daddy". Mostly because I am. 

The Floating Place is pure dissociation. Brought to you by my mental illnesses.

"So break me. Or buy me." is one of my favorite lines.

Kaz makes more than $1,200 a night. At the end of 8 years, assuming no days off and no fines, he would have made $3,504,000. He has paid off his principal 54 times. 

We learn later that his debt is held at 500% interest, which means at the end of 8 years with 0 payments he would have owed $221,709,240,000.

Kaz is getting fucked by the interest.

"Young, dumb, and down for everything" was originally "young, dumb, and full of come" but I couldn't bring myself to put that in a story.

Inej's story changed a few times, mostly her age at the time of the raid. At first she was 14 when it happened, but I needed more time for her father to drink himself to death and her to hunt down slavers before getting to Ketterdam. So now I imagine she left Ravka on her mission around 14.

Chapter 5: Afraid of Heights, boygenuis

Kaz's birthday is canonically in December or January, so I believe my exact idea for this scene was December 20. That's my mom's birthday.

Kaz's Kaelish is actually the gaelic for "you are an excellent lover"

Jesper's comment about using the curtains to hang youself is due to the way Margret Atwood describes Offred's room in the Handmaid's Tale. 

Getting them in year four would mean Kaz was 17, so after the leg, which he refers to as "breaking him beyond repair" later.

Kaz doesn't put on shoes because I wasn't sure he would own a pair. Why would he?

The Sir fight scene was originally much shorter, but I liked the idea of Kaz getting a little beat up.

I kinda regret killing Sir here. I should have done it after chapter 8, it would have meant more to the audience.

""No," he says. "I'm right here." was originally the last line of the story.

And then she's gone/And then he's alone is a reference to Come From Away and you can pry it from my cold, dead hands.

Kaz hiding under the bed is inspired by the one scene in The Haunting of Hill House that I have never watched, where the Tall Man comes for his hat.

Inej brings coffee because Kaz wished for coffee in chapter 1 as a luxury he didn't get. She doesn't know it, but I do.

Chapter 6: Harmony Hall, Vampire Weekend

Going to the exchange to see his debt posted was a night before publishing add or I would have written the entire scene. I should have.

I had to think of a reason for Inej to be painting. In reality, I think she just finds Ketterdam ugly and needs the beauty in her life.

"Wool socks" is inspired by that viral Danny Pudi clip 

I imagined Inej did a lot of the "hanging head first in a canal while the tide comes in" type murders because then she can tell herself that if the Saints want them to live, they will.

"Don't come into my club and refuse my hospitality" is based on something my grandfather would say if we came to his restaurant and weren't hungry. You could order a plate of nothing, but you had to order something. 

Kaz mentions that he should learn people's names here. By chapter 14, he will know the name of every Razorgull he meets.

Chapter 7: Dial Drunk, Noah Kahan

I forgot about the first tattoo knife for a long time and had to go back and write it in. I believe Nina had it with her on Heist Night.

Kaz's back being scarred from beatings was a decision I made because I needed him to be damaged in ways people didn't know about to echo his insides. 

This is the only time the word "rape" is used in the entire fic.

The private room where they have dinner is based very specifically on one at the Palm that my parents rented out for my dad's birthday once. There are fewer caricatures in Kaz and Inej's.

"Secret for a secret" was the only way I could make Kaz talk in this scene.

Chapter 8: revolution 0, boygenuis

Is the whistle Inej uses (and Wylan does later) the conflict motif from West Side story? I'll never tell.

Inej in the meeting with Pekka is heavily inspired by a specific Space Pirate RP Pixy and I did 12 years ago. "I didn't do it and you can't prove it" was her character's MO there.

$60,000 at 500% for 40 years would end up being $1,764,509,279,127,346,261,335,823,263,022,972,928 with 0 payments. 

We know Kaz makes more than $1200 a night, and works 7 days a week. Assuming he never had a day off and never incurred a fine, he would make $17,520,000 in 40 years. 

He was always fucked. 

I very nearly cut the leg breaking scene because it was just that brutal. I expected more people to be disgusted with Sir afterwards, anyway. This is why I shouldn't have killed him so early. If he was in the room for Kaz's flashback it would have hit harder.

The style of the leg breaking is deeply inspired by my friend Ruby, who writes such beautiful horrors.

Chapter 9: Afraid of Heights, boygenuis

Kaz counting his kisses starting over is something I borrowed from Natasha Romanoff fic. It doesn't count if you had to do it.

I also do not know how to make dry coffee be wet coffee but that's because I hate coffee.

Inej gets to show her smarts here, she knows what Kaz saw even if he still doesn't. He never mentions two sets of books, but she recognizes the behavior and names it.

Inej does angry dishes as a homage to my college friend Elle who used to clean my dorm room when she was pissed off.

Chapter 10: revolution 0, boygenuis

Originally Nina was going to be able to control dissociation a lot better until I reread her intro in SOC and she specifically says she can't control the brain. That's when I invented plan B for the heist: fantasy roofies.

Jesper and Kaz are flirting while picking locks and I ship it.

"You've been through it" is in fact the most insane way I could think of to respond to "I wish I could have picked locks so fewer people would have assaulted me," which is in itself a BUCK WILD thing to say.

The affidavit was a late addition. I needed Kaz to be more afraid.

"Torpor of constant terror" would be a good band name

Originally the painting had a representation of Kaz and Inej in it, but that felt too obvious to me.

Chapter 11: revolution 0, boygenuis

Inej is wearing a fantasy Sari. Kaz specifically got 9 yds of silk for it.

It is raining because something has to go wrong in a heist and it can't be something that the characters could have planned for. Adding it allowed me to slow down the escape from Pekka's office later (sealing the tray) and also set Kaz on high alert so he'd be more susceptible to the panic later

Chapter 12: Cool About It, boygenuis

Describing a person as "built like a ship- wide and low" gave me great joy.

The cloche tray was one of those happy accidents I wrote in that turned into a gift. Initially it was just a tray. Then it had a fork. Then it was a ledger containment device. But that all happened organically.

Originally Jesper left the code in his pants in the ceiling, but I decided that was a stupid mistake to make and I didn't want him to look incompetent.

The guards absolutely smell the acid and that's what brings them into the room.

Chapter 13: Harmony Hall, Vampire Weekend

The chapter of badass lines

There are 0 hits on google for the phrase "upstanding young criminal", which I was sure I stole from somewhere.

The tattoo knife being Kaz's weapon here was planned from chapter 2. I loved the idea of Kaz stabbing Pekka with a knife made of the ink Pekka put on him.

Maybe someday I will write a story about Dime Lion Hostage girl, because I love her an irrational amount.

The hero/corpse line gave me so much joy that I told it to my roommate who also thought I plagiarized it. I did not.

I knew Kaz had to think something happened to Inej, but I was disgusted at the idea of actually hurting her in a sexual way. In the first draft of this scene, I still didn't know why Pekka wanted to get her alone and I wrote a whole monologue about them joining forces and it was extremely bad.

I considered having Kaz tell Pekka that his son had already signed a contract to be a closer analogue to the book, but it just didn't make sense for this Kaz.

Chapter 14: House By The Sea, Moddi

Do not jump out of third story windows. I did a lot of research about this, you will injure yourself.

Here we have the first hint that Kaz has actually integrated into the Gulls, even if he doesn't know it yet. When he bursts into the guard shack Dael (who I also love?) speaks to him, and not Jesper.

The guardroom questions between Jesper and Kaz are my least favorite scene in this story. It feels like plain exposition to me, but it needed to happen and I never figured out how to make it better.

"You should see the other guy" is what Jesper said back in chapter 4 when he got stabbed. It was my brother's go-to response when he was hurt after wrestling matches in high school and college.

"I've been worse" is what Kaz told Nina back in chapter 2 after the beating. It's what I tend to say when someone at work asks me how I am.

Kerstan, the Razorgull who gives Kaz a blanket, is roughly 9 years old. I know his backstory vaguely (he is Dael's little brother), but mostly he's meant to invoke feelings of "what the fuck" in Kaz

I went back and forth about the scene with the caning scars. I almost cut it, but in the end I wanted Inej to assert that she loved Kaz, and I wanted Kaz to be able to tell her that he wasn't ready for her to love him that way, but he wanted to be.

Pekka in draft 1 was the captain of the ship, but if he was running the Dime Lions when Kaz was 9-13, that would only give him a few years to get to that position. So I adjusted him to the owner. 

Chapter 15: Harmony Hall, Vampire Weekend

I had the worst time with this chapter, it got rewritten about 90 times

This piece of paper (below) reads "Open before fall/house by the sea/contracts" as the three things I needed to remember to keep in it through the drafts. It was taped next to my computer.

Inej is talking about the Ice Court when she talks about the big job

This is the only chapter that was NOT finished when I started posting. I didn't know what the last line would be, but I knew I'd find it in editing. 

[shummashum]

Klaus Goldstein Ch12 [11~14]

the inside is cleaner than I thought

so you're saying he does a lot of really shitty things behind, huh this group is fucking suspicious is it okay to have this group as a client? it's not an exaggeration that you could be kidnapped without even realizing it

his attitude is unspeakable but his ability is great? really? for real? I mean, why does someone who is considered exceptionally good at work leave work to students

Anyway, as Zeus and Al were wondering how to talk to that Thana guy…

what on earth is that artificial intelligence? GLaDOS?

oh... that means it's making a sound like dentures right now

well his words are remarkably short and it ticks me off but I understand, not showing even the slightest courtesy to others is one of the characteristics of boomer

Anyway Klaus reported the stolen items to Thana.

progress? of course there's no way something like that exists! all they did was lovey dovey stuff (laugh)

oh right at least a single progress exists

familiar? why tho

At that time, Thana called Zeus' name.

oh… right, that happened a long time ago well my liking for him is on a sharp upward curve again! this guy's chart is fucking roller coaster I felt he was a goddamn trolling artist in Ch7, but he feels like a very friendly and admirable type now it'd be great if he stayed like this

where did that guy who complained Klaus not to waste time go but I understand, words not align with actions is one of the characteristics of boomer besides I think there must be a reason…

fuck you asshole I think you're mistaken; they're students of the academy, not slaves or henchmen that you can use as you please right now the only person you can manage here is Klaus the academy isn't under the Ministry, so what right do you have to discuss their whereabouts? besides the Ministry has a bunch of employee, I saw lots of them earlier the Ministry pay and hire them, why didn't that bunch of idiots just use them

speaking of paying, are the Ministry going to pay our S6 comrades the right amount of compensation? or are they going to give them a bonus when they apply to the Ministry in the future? it's not the case, right? they were just planning on doing it for free in the name of fame, I can see well their intention

you guys are truly motherfuckers this is what you should be in charge of in the first place hah bunch of trash leeches who only sucking taxes must be abolished immediately after a government audit

and look, he cut the connection right after saying his words I get it, someone like this is considered "competent" within the Ministry the height of incompetence

Anyway, Zeus said that what Thana said bothered him as they left the office.

well since that guy is his boss, he feels like it's even more shitty yet that's a competent boss? this group is really a bunch of scum sighsigh

and he's slowly trying to start the engine but I won't stop him from trolling at the Ministry rather I want to encourage it

no it's you be honest with yourself. you think this workplace sucks, right? now you have an excuse to troll, so why throw it away? if it were me, I wouldn't miss this opportunity

honestly it's true that it's a reckless plan beyond measure, but I've decided not to care about that anymore anyway Hiro is gone now anyway the brakes are off now go Zeus!!! show everyone your troll power!!!

-Ch12 End-

[drkcnry67]

SPN Kinktober day 2

Size doesn't matter, all that matter is I love you

Pairing: Dean x reader

Prompt: size kink

rating: 18+

Tags: body conscious female, plus size reader, making out, kissing, not going out in public due to being body conscious

Summery is nope

kinktober masterlist

you went through the city looking for a dress, this dress had to be special, this was the dress that would be on your body when you go to the first show of your life.

but something was wrong, i mean something was always wrong. but you had always been conscious of your size. you knew you werent thin or skinny, but you had never fit in anywhere.

yn(to self): i look like a whale no matter what i wear why on earth would me becoming an exotic dancer yield any different results.

you finish saying that as you finalize the purchase of your now plus size lingerie. you were the first plus size dancer that would grace the halls and rooms of this new dance club.

you went back to your little apartment and felt the tears sting your eyes as you now were staring at your form in the mirror, the words of people said in past were ringing through your mind now.

"fatty" "ugly" "stupid" "dinosaur fatty" "egg boat"

you slunked down against the wall and now let the tears fall freely. it was still a few hours before you had to be at work... you didnt want to eat right then you knew you would eat later.

a few hours passed and you left the house for work... your first shift as a exotic dancer. this was not the profession one should choose if they be body conscious

but never the less you were now ready to get out there and shake what your mama gave you. but now getting all dolled up you knew you would have to change your personality to one of not giving in to your already pervy boss, not caring about your body, not giving a shit about the people that would be watching you.

but that first step onto the stage you locked eyes with one man who just couldnt take his eyes off you... now your boss however couldnt understand why you werent acting like the other girls and fauning over him.

but when your boss caught this man starring at you and you starring back at him, his blood boiled he needed to have you and didnt care who he hurt to get you...

you swung round the pole as the horny drunk men in the room threw money on stage with each article of clothing you removed. you were very sure that when the man who had captivated your attention was talking to the waitress he was wanting to get you alone.

but your time with this man would not be just you 2... for unknown to you, your boss was gonna try his damndest to get you to be his like he had with all the other girls in there...

but upon getting off the stage after your set you arrived back to your room to find a note to go to private room 4, to meet your client... you freshened up a bit before you went and made your way over to the room. you arrived to the room and was greeted to the sight of a green eyed man sitting on the couch...

dean: that was quite the performance out there

yn: thank you... i wasnt expecting to get asked away to a private room on my first day and given my size too...

dean: honey come here, sit with me...

you did as he asked after locking the door... and this man turned to face you making your core heat up and he hadnt even done anything yet.

dean: i could see it in your eyes when you were dancing your scared of something arent you...

yn: its just my boss he gives me the creeps.

dean: has he tried anything to you

yn: no but he was just starring at me while i was dancing and he personally oversaw to my audition and it just creeped me the fuck out

dean: well whatever happens ill be here till your done and then ill personally escort you home hows that sound

yn: that sounds perfect. but your not scared of my size... usually i turn men away with how

dean just heard enough of that and he reached over and brushed a hair from your face and you nodded to his advance being welcomed.. you caressed his cheek as well and your lips locked in a fierce kiss.

meanwhile your boss was watching this through the security camera... no sound to be heard but your boss was watching as you now kissed this guy...

furious he stormed out of his office and went to the waitress demanding to know the name of the man with you in room 4, she answered with wedge antilis

this was not what he wanted, he didnt like when his new ladies didnt comply with his unspoken rules and demands. he didnt appreciate when men would come in request a private with his new ladies and he didnt like it when the new ones were more responsive to the other guys than him.

your boss was about to intrude on a very heated makeout session. but unknown to you your boss was more dangerous than he had led out to be.

the door broke in, you shrieked as you were pulled out of the room by your hair across the stone cold floor and then it was heard clear as a bell someone screaming your name.

dean(screaming): guards let me go... it is illegal to hold a federal officer whether or not on duty... now let me go before i have this place raided and you all arrested for assault.

the guards backed up... and your boss holding you by the throat now backed against the wall... as dean strides himself out of the room, the guards not making any movements as dean held his gun toward your boss, no description could ever describe the look of fire and anger in deans eyes.

dean: christo

your boss screamed and twitched his grip getting tighter.

yn: dean help....

dean: yn stay calm i promise ill love you for the rest of your life once we deal with this slimeball... now demon let the lady go

demon: no, she belongs to me she signed a contract upon her starting work here.

dean points to the first guard he sees and sends him to fetch the contract... the guard runs off and dean moves a bit closer to you and your captor.

dean: im not gonna say it again. let her go

the man holding your throat doesnt show any signs of relent, you were the one person that revealed the truth about this club owners true intent...

dean: then you leave me no other choice... for you see i had my suspicions upon entering here and laying eyes on this woman, her safety now is all that matters, she will not be the next to feel your seed, you will let her go or i will take her from you and send you back to hell.

the demon just laughs and eggs dean forward. you were now locked in gaze once more with this man you known barely an hour... yet it feels like you have known forever.

yn: dean help

dean: its okay dont worry im almost done with this scumball.

dean then speaks once more at the demon and this time with full blown anger after he steps a few more steps quickly and snaps the demons arm thats holding you back, and dean pulls you against him and lets his voice carry.

dean: exorciamous te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregato, insectas diabolica, ergo draco malidicte, ecclesia secura tuam facias libretatum, te regamos, audios bitch

black smoke filled the air and disappeared into the floor. you hid your face in deans chest and let your tears fall freely soaking his shirt as he proceeds to cover you with a blanket he had in his hand.

dean: make sure that this man is taken to hospital for a checkup and if he has any questions about what happened you dont tell him anything.... and wipe the security footage its not to be seen at all by anyone. now i take this lady and our leave...

you were now whisked back through the club and out the door, you were not sure what had just happened and not sure what would happen but you were loaded into the passenger seat of a classic car, dean then drove the car to a motel outside of the city...

upon arrival dean came round to your side of the car and helped you into the motel room. you felt his hands grasp your own as you sat down on the bed and let dean put you into one of his teeshirts.

now letting you breathe a bit you finally find the words to speak.

yn: yn, my name is yn...

dean: well i love you for whats on the inside not the outside, looks dont matter, size doesnt matter and anyone who tells you otherwise now has to answer to me.

yn: thank you for getting me out of there... im sorry i caused you so much trouble.

dean comes to sit beside you, he takes your hands in his and smiles at you...

dean: you need not apologize, just lay back and let me hold you... its been a long night you need rest...

dean and you fall back on the bed lost in eachothers embrace his hands tracing every inch of your form. the soft moans elicting from your lips as you slowly drift off to sleep against his chest.

[whileiamdying]

As Much As I Can, As Black As I Am: The Queer History of Grace Jones

In this career overview, Barry Walters details how one of the most transgressive stars of the 1980s, Grace Jones, gave voice to the oppressed while offering a bold example of what it means to be free.

Grace Jones is perched on a ledge above the dancefloor of New York’s 12 West, the state-of-the-art, members-only gay disco, about to take the stage for one of her first performances. The year is 1977, and no one is prepared for what’s about to hit them.

Tom Moulton, father of the dance mix and Jones’ early producer, describes the scene: “All of a sudden the spotlight hits her. She starts singing ‘I Need a Man’, and the place goes crazy. After she finishes, she goes, ‘I don't know about you, honey, but I need a fucking man!’ Talk about a room-worker. Whatever it takes. She was so determined.”

To understand the impact of this moment, one must understand a bit of history. Just a few years earlier, it had been illegal for two men to so much as dance together in New York City. With the exception of maybe hairdressers and artists, queer people risked unemployment if they merely hinted at their orientation outside the confines of gay bars and clubs, and it was in these discos that the seeds of liberation were sown. At 12 West, gay people could grasp the power of their collectivity and understand what it meant to be free.

That night, Grace Jones sang “I Need a Man” just like a man might—tough and lusty, she was a woman who was not just singing to them, but also for them, as them. She was as queer as a relatively straight person could get. Her image celebrated blackness and subverted gender norms; she presented something we had never seen before in pop performance—a woman who was lithe, sexy, and hyperfeminine while also exuding a ribald, butch swagger. In ’79, Ebony got her je ne sais quoi exactly right: “Grace Jones is a question mark followed by an exclamation point.”

Even now, her transgressive charisma remains bold. She still feels outré.

In 1960, a 12-year-old Beverly Grace Jones moved from Spanish Town, Jamaica, to Syracuse, New York, with her family. She didn’t have many friends; a high school report card described her as “socially sick.” Halfway through her studies at Syracuse University, she impulsively abandoned school to work on a play in Philadelphia. The Pentecostal preacher’s daughter realized there was no going home after that, and she moved to New York City in 1975 to fulfill her dream of becoming a star.

At first, Jones modeled for the Wilhelmina Agency while doubling as a go-go dancer under the pseudonym Grace Mendoza. “Even though the agency kept me pretty busy, I auditioned for every play and film I could find,” she told The Baltimore Afro American in 1985. “But they all wanted a black American sound, and I just didn’t have it. Finally, I got tired of trotting around and took myself to Paris.”

In France, her blackness set her apart from other models, and Jones landed covers of Stern, Pravda, and Vogue. Within a few months, she recorded a few singles; one was sent to Cy and Eileen Berlin, an enterprising husband-and-wife team who later managed Tom Cruise. Jones flew back to NYC with her roommate, actress Jessica Lange, and met with the Berlins. Impressed by her exuberance, star quality, and willingness, they signed on to manage her. “I thought of her as family,” says Eileen Berlin. “My son had gone to college, so I gave her his room.”

At the time, Tom Moulton’s pioneering club-specific mixes were blowing up both discos and R&B radio, and the Berlins begged him to produce their new client. Moulton and Jones’ partnership began with the double-sided ’76 single, “Sorry” / “That’s the Trouble”, and their next collaboration, “I Need a Man”, quickly rose to the top of Billboard’s disco chart the following year. Hoping to capitalize on Jones’ burgeoning fame, the Berlins approached Island Records founder Chris Blackwell, who signed her in short order. Given the combination of Blackwell’s status as an international reggae ambassador and Jones’ Jamaican roots, Cy Berlin anticipated a good fit. He didn’t know how right he would be.

Although Moulton and Jones made three albums together in three years—’77’s Portfolio, ’78’s Fame, and ’79’s Muse—the two former-models often clashed: “I always teased her about sounding like Bela Lugosi,” recalls the disco godfather. “I stood next to her while she was singing because I got so sick of hitting the talkback button [in the control room]. The moment she'd go off, I'd stop her. I was hard on her, but no matter how much I pushed her, she would take it and push herself.”

Portfolio’s continuous first side featured Broadway tunes set to string-intensive bluster arranged by the Salsoul Orchestra’s Vince Montana and performed by members of MFSB, a cohesive pool of studio musicians who played on nearly every Philadelphia-originated soul hit of the ’70s. But against the plush effortlessness, Jones sounded strained; the weight of Moulton’s hand was audible and uncomfortable to hear.

However, the LP’s second side dished out a masterstroke in Jones’ take on Édith Piaf’s “La Vie En Rose”, a version of which Moulton previously recorded with forgotten ’70s singer Teresa Wiater. Jones had gotten her hands on an acetate pressing of Waiter’s unreleased recording, which was wowing the 12 West crowd, and she lobbied Moulton to let her have it, baiting him that it would be a sure hit for the two: “I’m big in France.” The same rawness and struggle that worked against Jones on Portfolio’s Broadway arias conveyed the absolute heartbreak of “La Vie En Rose”.

On Jones’ second album, Fame, Moulton bolstered the French connection: Most songs were written by Jack Robinson and Jacques Pépino (credited as James Bolden, but elsewhere known as disco singer David Christie). Once again Moulton contrasted Philly soul’s lush romanticism with Jones’ confident, almost stentorian vocals. This time around, though, that combination gelled throughout because the material was made for her. Jones dedicated the album “with love” to her then-partner, Jean-Paul Goude, a Parisian multimedia artist who collaborated with her on the creation of subsequent album jackets, photos, videos, and stage shows. (Goude is also the father of her only child and author of a book that details their relationship, Jungle Fever.)

While the follow up, Muse, didn’t yield as many memorable songs, it did feature another nonstop A-side that moved from sin to salvation via stormy arrangements by Iceland’s Thor Baldursson, whose keyboards and charts lit up Giorgio Moroder and Boney M songs alike. It also brandished a killer floor-filler with “On Your Knees”. Laced with sadistic intent by D.C. LaRue, a cult disco act whose world-weary, gay-coded “Cathedrals” presaged Pet Shop Boys, and former Sugarloaf frontman Jerry Corbetta, the most soulful of Jones’ disco singles also pointed toward her future. The philharmonic instrumentation oozed luxury, but the swagger of the lyric and the toughness of her vocal suggested rock’n’roll dissent waiting to be unleashed.

I grew up in Rochester, New York, 90 miles from where a teenaged Grace Jones daydreamed about her grand ambitions in Syracuse. I was a fan of a local band called New Math, whose frontman did promo for Island and passed me a copy of Fame—the first piece of my disco vinyl collection. Later that week, I watched Jones on “The Midnight Special”, where she performed “Below the Belt”. She took the stage clad in a satin boxing robe, her hands taped for a fight. Halfway through, she pulled a brawny muscleman from the crowd, pretended to knock him out, and then stood with a foot planted on his chest, all while crooning, “Gotta take my chance/ Gotta go the distance.” She then did a victory dance as fake snow fell in celebration of Christmas (and perhaps—this being 1979—cocaine). I was hooked.

That jaw-dropping TV appearance prompted a discussion with my high school drama teacher. He bragged that his brother had once met Jones at a Manhattan roller rink, where, instead of offering him a business card, she gave him a plastic whip with her name emblazoned on it. I knew at that moment that I belonged in Grace Jones’ New York, that suburban life would kill me the same way it had killed my alcoholic father. A year later, I arrived. 

Jones’ “On Your Knees” was the last single I bought before leaving Rochester and it was one of the first songs I heard on the local disco station in New York City. Subway cars plastered with graffiti bore nearly inscrutable codes I was hungry to crack, for danger preyed upon the ignorant: Each weekend brought stories of fellow students who had been mugged. I remember protesters disrupting the filming of William Friedkin’s Cruising, which retold the real-life story of a fugitive who had lured men out of gay bars to bed and then killed them. In that anything-goes, pre-AIDS era at the tail end of the ‘70s, pleasure and danger were quite literally bedfellows.

Macho, close-cropped clones ruled the city’s mega-discos, but I hadn’t escaped my small suburb just to conform, so I sought out unconventional spaces like Hurrah’s, the Mudd Club, and Danceteria, where dub, reggae and post-punk alternated with chilly synth pop and radical funk. All those genres would mingle and mutate in Jones’ next incarnation.

When Muse fizzled in the clubs and on the charts, Chris Blackwell took over as Jones’ producer. “I wanted to treat her not as a model, but to involve her as a musician,” he recalls. “Tom Moulton had been recording the instrumentation and then having Grace come in later, but I wanted her to feel as though she were a member of a band, and record her the way bands used to make albums, with the singer and the players doing their thing all at once.”

Blackwell’s approach united two things he knew well: Caribbean ease and British audacity. “I wanted a rhythmic reggae bottom, aggressive rock guitar, atmospheric keyboards in the middle, and Grace on top,” he says. To get all that, he assembled a sextet of studio ringers at his Nassau studio, Compass Point. The soon-to-be signature sound of the Compass Point All-Stars went on to animate hits by the Tom Tom Club, Robert Palmer, Joe Cocker, Gwen Guthrie, and others.

The sessions began with an unlikely remake of the Normal’s “Warm Leatherette”. Jones’ version preserved the original’s deadpan vocal delivery and minimal melody but dropped the tempo to a saunter, twisted the rhythm into a sharp funk, and sashayed with offhand earnestness, as if sexual intercourse while dying from vehicular collision was just another kink worth trying. The sessions moved with disarming speed and ease: “If Grace or the group hadn’t nailed a song by the third take,” Blackwell recounts, “it was dropped and they’d move to the next number.”

Keyboardist Wally Badarou attests to Jones’ active role in the recordings: “Grace was there even during most instrumental overdubbing sessions. She was a part of the sound and the spirit that came out almost from nowhere. We all knew we were in for something quite experimental.”

Soon they had amassed enough material for 1980’s Warm Leatherette and the beginnings of a follow-up LP that would become 1981’s Nightclubbing. Upon its release, Leatherette failed to charm either radio audiences or most dance clubs; it was too authentically reggae for the New Wave crowd, too slow for disco. But by the following year, both New York radio and the club scene had grown eclectic. Primed by kindred punk-funk blasts like Yoko Ono’s “Walking on Thin Ice” as well as Taana Gardner’s “Heartbeat”, a far more open-minded dance music world was ready to re-embrace Jones and her new sound.

Nightclubbing provided Jones with newfound popularity on both sides of the Atlantic. European audiences appreciated “I’ve Seen That Face Before (Libertango)”, a vocal reimagining of Argentine tango master Ástor Piazzolla’s 1974 instrumental “Libertango”. For that track, co-writer Barry Reynolds penned lyrics about a Parisian stalker, and Badarou provided a haunting introductory riff. Jones’ lyrics were a rebuttal, en francais, penned with the help of Blackwell’s girlfriend, actor Nathalie Delon: “What are you looking for? Hoping to find love? Who do you think you are? You hate your life.”

In America, Jones’ R&B breakthrough came via an instrumental recorded by drummer Sly Dunbar during the Warm Leatherette sessions. The track first leaked out as “Peanut Butter” on the B-side of kiddie reggae crooner Junior Tucker’s “The Kick (Rock On)”, but, eager to make it hers, Grace co-wrote new lyrics equating cars with carnality. “Pull Up to the Bumper” pushed that metaphor towards lewd entendre: “Grease it, spray it/ Let me lubricate it,” she drawled. A summertime smash, “Bumper” became one of the last thoroughly sexual jams before a new virus began to complicate that kind of fun.

The sessions for 1982’s Living My Life marked a culmination of the synchronicity between Jones and the All-Stars. “Blackwell felt the band was so good it deserved to be doing its own material,” Badarou remembers. As a result, the album was made up entirely of originals, save for a cover of Melvin Van Peebles’ “The Apple Stretching”. Each song began with Jones’ lyrics, from which Reynolds wrote the music to fit. Recorded in the wake of her breakup with Jean-Paul Goude, the album found Jones getting deeper and more rigorously percussive: The percolating lead track, “My Jamaican Guy”, has been sampled by acts from La Roux to LL Cool J. The title track was eventually left off the album but it showcased just how personal the work was for Jones, a world away from the show tunes and entendres. “You kill me for living my life,” she sang. “As much as I can, as black as I am.”

By 1982, AIDS and Reaganomics were striking down Jones’ core audience, and the freedoms of the previous decade shifted to contractions. MTV arrived, and the New Wave dance sounds it championed—sonic stepchildren of Jones including Eurythmics, Culture Club, and Duran Duran—launched a second English invasion on the charts. Jones’ singular appearance and meticulously crafted presentation made her a natural fit for the burgeoning music video medium, especially in its early, experimental days.

She asserted herself as an astute visual artist with her 1982 VHS release, A One Man Show. Directed by Goude and nominated in ’84 for the first Best Long Form Music Video Grammy, it combined still photography, concert footage, and video clips to distill the pair’s simultaneously sensational and intimate collaborations into a heated, unbroken montage. Jones donned pointedly geometric designs that accentuated her angles while clad in screaming Pop-Art colors that flashed and flattered. Goude’s art direction came alive through Jones, who glared at the camera as if possessed; she was imposing, alien, almighty—it’s not surprising that she would soon be stealing scenes in films like Conan the Destroyer and A View to a Kill.

What came after One Man and the Compass Point trilogy would have to top them, which is precisely what “Slave to the Rhythm” did. Bruce Woolley, co-writer of the Buggles’ “Video Killed the Radio Star”, wrote the song on spec for Frankie Goes to Hollywood, but helped to re-draft it for Jones. Producer Trevor Horn was brought in, and a nine-month studio odyssey ensued, allegedly costing Island $385,000—a fortune for a singer who had never scaled the U.S. pop charts. (The exorbitant single was offset by padding its accompanying album with eight different versions of the track in attempt to break even.)

“I remember a huge amount of experimentation with early digital techniques—the Synclavier, Sony digital tape spliced with sticky tape, and the Fairlight,” Woolley recalls. “We recorded a new version every four weeks, with Horn and Blackwell in search of the perfect track.” Between her acting roles, Jones returned to the studio month after month to update her vocals on the latest arrangements. “Slave to the Rhythm” was finally released in October 1985, and one would be hard-pressed to argue that all the laborious studio work and astronomical expenditures weren’t justified: Horn’s production work was ornate and opulent, lurid and symphonic. The spell cast by a larger-than-life black woman singing both metaphorically and directly about slavery was profound; the lyrics coaxed infinite interpretations. The Face—England’s authority on all things hip—declared “Slave” the single of 1985, and Jones appeared on the magazine’s January ’86 cover painted in whiteface. From the pure gloss of its ambition to the obsessiveness of its lyric, “Slave” is the ’80s.

Her ultimate hit in much of the world, “Slave” underscored how Jones’ incandescence and charisma made her bigger than her sales figures might indicate. MTV virtually ignored the track’s Goude-directed video; even when framed by Horn’s familiar transatlantic brilliance, Jones was, for them, still too black, too strong. Nevertheless, she got over elsewhere on the sheer magnitude of her presence. With the help of Hollywood and some crazy commercials for Citroën, Honda Scooters, and Sun Country Wine Coolers, she became more massive than ever.

“I like conflicts,” she told Playboy in 1985. “I love competition. I like discovering things for myself. It’s a childlike characteristic, actually. But that gives you a certain amount of power, and people are intimidated by that.” 

By the following year, with Goude and Blackwell out of the picture, Jones wanted more involvement in her debut album for EMI subsidiary Manhattan Records, 1986’s Inside Story. Taking EMI A&R head Bruce Garfield’s direction to “imagine a leaf being blown through the streets of New York, twisting and turning in the sunshine” as a starting point, Jones and Woolley wrote every song together, then joined multi-platinum Svengali Nile Rodgers in New York to transform their demos. This mutually flattering union yielded her last R&B radio victory, “I’m Not Perfect (But I’m Perfect for You)”. Indicting white-collar criminals and Hollywood liars, Inside Story revealed the singer’s observant, socially conscious side, while the jagged arrangements meshed Rodgers’ ricocheting, jazz-schooled guitar with Woolley’s smart pop. It is a singer/songwriter record you can dance to.

She followed it with 1989’s Bulletproof Heart, which yielded one resplendent club triumph, “Love on Top of Love”, courtesy of David Cole & Robert Clivillés, a house remix/production duo who later scored with C+C Music Factory. Jones co-wrote and co-produced most of the album with her new husband, Chris Stanley, whose output fell far below her avant standards; the two soon divorced. Having tried harder, thought broader, and crossed more boundaries than most of her contemporaries, this dance-floor renegade closed out the decade boxed in and coasting.

By the late ’80s, I had moved to San Francisco; AIDS was decimating the gay community. One night in 1993, I finally got my chance to see Jones perform at a local gay nightclub and took my friend Brian, whose partner Mark was too sick to join us. Jones’ lived up to her reputation for diva behavior and didn’t take the stage until well after midnight. At first she stuck to her hits, including that year’s house excursion “Sex Drive”. But it soon became apparent that she didn’t need the spectacular filigree of her Goude years. The special effect was her smile: It just wouldn’t stop, and soon it became contagious. She didn’t back away from the elephant in the room: She dedicated one song to artist and AIDS casualty Keith Haring, who had used her body for a canvas on the occasion of her legendary 1985 Paradise Garage performance.

That night’s show was remarkable for the simple fact that Jones just kept on going, granting one encore request after another, waiting patiently while the sound man scoured backing tapes to find the fans’ offbeat choices. When Jones got to such minor numbers as “Crush”, it became clear that she didn’t want to leave. She was giving as much of herself as she could to the beleaguered troops, knowing full well that many wouldn’t live long enough to see her again. A few months after that show, I inherited Mark’s cherished copy of Goude and Jones’ art book Jungle Fever after he and Brian died within weeks of each other. 

Jones’ lust for life that night represented not just resilience to repression, but also a way of fighting back that sent a message: We, who are thought less than, shall burn brighter than our oppressors. That was why she was so beloved—because she led the way, even when we couldn’t proceed. Along with the lesbians and lucky survivors who nursed our fallen, Jones had borne witness to what Reagan, Bush, and most of the country willfully ignored; she knew the toll of it all. 

Throughout the ’90s, rumors of new albums surfaced; Blackwell recorded several sessions, so did Tricky. Even Moulton buried the hatchet for a 1997 house remake of Candi Staton’s “Victim”, but Island nixed its release on conceptual grounds: They thought Grace Jones couldn’t be a victim of anything.

In 2008, Jones unexpectedly reemerged with Hurricane, her first record in 19 years. She brought back Woolley and the Compass Point All-Stars while adding contributors like Emmy-winning composers Wendy Melvoin and Lisa Coleman, who worked with her for a month in their home on the the gospel-shaded canticle “Williams’ Blood”. “Prince has a presence and everybody in the room goes, ‘Whoa,’” Melvoin attests from first-hand knowledge—she and Coleman were key members of his Purple Rain–era backing band, the Revolution. “When Grace walks into the room, it’s more subtle, but it has the same effect. You just go, ‘My God, she’s taken up all of the space with that personality.’”

Hurricane mirrored that kaleidoscope. Unlike commonplace pop and rock luminaries who took extended vacations, Jones came back more polished and unpredictable than ever. With her trenchant track “Corporate Cannibal”, she even protested capitalist dehumanization by embodying it via grinding, insidious metal. But while her image as a constantly morphing, couture-clad hellion persists, the 67-year-old iconoclast stays true to herself. After all these years and so many disciples, there’s still no one like her. 

While gathering up my Grace Jones memories, I was reminded of what Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon once said about entertainers. This was 25 years ago, so my memory may have altered her words, but it went something like this: We pay to bask in the confidence of our most beloved performers so that we may learn to similarly love ourselves. Grace did that for me, for her audience, for anyone who has ever been too queer, too black, too female, or too freaky for the world around them. Grace Jones is liberation.

As a companion to Barry Walters’ Grace Jones piece, various Pitchfork contributors highlight some of the artist’s finest moments in music, film, and talk-show badassery:

The “Russell Harty” Incident 

In 1981, Grace Jones pummelled British talk show host Russell Harty on his own BBC show. Harty always sat among the guests on his early evening gabfest, and on this particular night he chose to focus his attention on the men to his right, leaving Jones, seated alone to his left, out of much of the conversation. The scene plays out with a frustrated Jones admonishing Harty: “If you turn your back to me one more minute.” Harty dismisses her, wagging a finger before turning away. Jones then clips him on the neck and lands one, two, three more hits in quick succession before slapping him on the head. The confused audience applauds—was this planned? Is this funny? Is it art?

This was my introduction to Grace Jones: elegantly beating the hell out of a man who won't take her seriously, her black body and everything it knows asserting itself for the good of fed up women everywhere. —Sara Bivigou

“Use Me”

Grace Jones’ version of Bill Withers’ “Use Me” is exactly what a cover song should be: It honors the strengths of the original while restructuring it, truly taking possession of it as if it were her own work. While Withers’ original is full of human pain and love, Jones’ version–produced by Sly and Robbie for Nightclubbing–turns on one robotic heel into S&M, all sex, all strength. The distinctly American, organic funk of the original is refashioned as electro-Caribbean minimalism, letting Jones’ voice be as powerful as Withers’. When issued from Jones’ lips, “use me up” becomes a challenge: a love song for power bottoms everywhere. —Jes Sklonik

Vamp 

Grace Jones fascinated me at a young age (seeing her as a kid while watching Conan the Destroyer with my dad both scared and excited me), but I didn’t become obsessed with her until seeing the movie Vamp at a sleepover in 1986. In the film, Jones plays Queen Katrina, a wicked vampiress running a strip club somewhere in Kansas (naturally). She makes her first on-screen appearance nude, save for a red bob wig and full body paint, doing a seductive dance that is as bizarre as it is weirdly erotic. At the time I didn’t really know much about her music (I was 11 years old and lived on a farm) nor could I appreciate that her body paint and the chair upon which she writhes were done by Keith Haring. The film is glorious ‘80s trash of the highest order, but Jones manages to transform the whole thing into high art by virtue of simply being there and, even though she’s playing the undead, sort of just being herself—beautiful, artful, exotic, and frighteningly wild. —T. Cole Rachel

“Breakdown”

Everyone from Suzi Quatro to the Replacements have covered Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ 1976 slowburner “Breakdown”, but Grace Jones’ take is the version most worth discussing. Given a sauntering, reggae reconstruction, Jones’ rendering is shaded by a subtle gradation of vocal inflections that give the song a searing potency: She is sturdy and commanding one second and mournful the next, the song’s titular collapse filtered through a distinctly Jonesian lens of fortifying self-sufficiency. Even Petty recognized that quality about Jones, writing a killer kiss-off of a third verse to cap her interpretation: “It’s OK if you must go/ I’ll understand if you don’t/ You say goodbye right now/ I’ll still survive somehow/ Why should we let this drag on?” In Jones’ more-than-capable hands, a bluesy classic is transformed into a clarion call, summoning strength from the depths of its vulnerability. —Eric Torres

“Warm Leatherette”

Grace Jones' cover of the Normal's “Warm Leatherette” is one of her more bizarre interpretations. The original song, based on J.G. Ballard’s dystopian novel Crash, was a cold proto-industrial track riffing on the flattening of human affect due to post-modern technology. In Jones' hands, the song becomes a sassy tribute to the pleasures of ultraviolence, queering the original text from a self-serious and mega-ironic love poem into a campy exploration of black female sexual identity. By subverting the tropes of white, male, anglo sci-fi, Jones turned the Ballardian porno-nightmare into a celebration of perversion via the intersection of technology and sexuality. —Eric Shorey

“Pull Up to the Bumper”

Grace Jones pioneered the way for Shamir, Stromae, and countless other dance mavericks of today—not just with her bewitching candor but through her use of androgynous innuendo. “Pull Up to the Bumper” was initially banned in the United States for suggestive lyrics—“Pull up to my bumper baby/ In your long black limousine”—that were revolutionary because they were smart, risky, and intriguingly gender inclusive, just like Jones herself. By combining Studio 54’s pulsing drums and chic new-wave licks with the kaleidoscope of Andy Warhol’s playhouse (Jones was a regular in both scenes), “Bumper” became a crucial track for American dance music while pushing boundaries of raw sexuality. —Molly Beauchemin