#and give their entire staff paid leave for a year

[crehador]

somehow we are already only three weeks away from the end of some fall 2023 shows, so here's me more or less finalizing my list for winter 2024!

(undead unluck, sousou no frieren, dog signal, ragna crimson, and shangri-la frontier will be rolling over from this season for a total of 19 shows)

most excited for warumono-san for obvious reasons (asnm) but also of course really looking forward to dunmesh and cherry magic

high card, mashle, and synnoir are the sequels/continuation this season... they're all just fine enough for me to keep following, nothing outstanding. i'm surprised i don't like high card more, just didn't vibe super hard with the first season i guess

sengoku youko is an interesting-looking one to me, haven't read the source material but the manga scores look really good! what's especially interesting is the episode count is currently listed at 37, and i haven't seen a series that runs for three straight cours in ages

i'm just... worried...... because biscuit hammer (same mangaka) also had very high manga scores and got really just the most godawful anime adaptation you could imagine. it was BONKERS bad. i'm talking the manga has an 81% average score and the anime has 49% i do not know how you fuck up that badly

anyway... godspeed and good luck sengoku youko

we've had some fantastic shoujo lately (watakon) and i'm hoping next season's yubisaki to renren will keep that going

most everything else is either a cast add or a "this looks potentially funny" add, except bucchigiri?! which is a staff add for me (same creator as sk8 apparently)

i just wish bucchigiri were coming out like at least a season or two later, or had a different studio. mappa let your fucking staff go home jesus christ

AHEM anyway looks like a promising start to next year!

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I remember your submission about H and national security implications. So, with the new Boris revelation- that he had a talk about Harry just before megxit to convince him to stay- what do you think about this from a national security angle?

To me, it seems, that the uk govt also realised what the possible implications could be if Harry's loyalties landed on the wrong side. Do you think that is why, as a last resort, the then PM was recruited to have an informal chat with him? Obviusly harry is so thick and daft, that he would take any allegations of possible defection very poorly. But, surely that must have been a point of discussion at the palace as well as 10 downing.

It seems that everyone but Harry, took his leaving very seriously. And he didn't realise the repercussions until just recently. What else do you will could think might come out about megxit?

So first, the palace has announced that they never asked Boris to speak to Harry. I think what probably happened is one of the following two scenarios:

Scenario A: The Queen discussed Megxit with him in one of their weekly audiences and he thinks she’s asking him to problem solve this, so Boris steps in.

Scenario B: It was Charles/Clarence House that asked Boris to step in and not the palace, but Boris doesn’t know the difference. (Which is very plausible considering that he confirmed in his memoir he never read his briefing papers and often learned things from The Queen herself.)

Second, there’s no national security angle to this. It was made very clear that take away their demands in the Megxit Manifesto - which the BRF did at the Sandringham Summit - the Sussexes didn’t actually have a plan for what they were going to do. Where would they live? Were they going to lease/rent or buy? What would they do about transportation? How would they pay for their expenses? For childcare? For security? What would they do for work? Would they immigrate or just live there? What kind of visas did Harry need? Could they keep their diplomatic passports or did they need to get regular ones? Etc, etc. That’s probably how they got the 1-year trial period; there was no plan and the little plan there was wasn’t realistic.

The BRF was doing everything they could to make the Sussexes wake up to the reality that the grass wasn’t greener on the other side and that Harry, especially, was too dependent on the machinations of the monarch - living expenses paid for, generational wealth, do-nothing career, household staff, drivers - to be able to manage it exclusively and entirely alone without support. Since the Sussexes weren’t listening to the BRF, someone thought an “outsider” might be able to make them listen and Boris (who’s very much equally privileged and tone-deaf on similar issues) was chosen. Or self-appointed.

I think had the BRF called the Spencers in to help, they might’ve had a chance but it was still too late because once Meghan got Archie out of the country, she was gone and if she was gone, so was Harry. The opportune time to get the Spencers involved would’ve been Summer 2019 or right after Africa. But even then, I’m not sure that the Spencers would’ve been able to do anything; at that time, Harry wasn’t speaking to the Earl (he either no-showed or was NFI to Archie’s christening) and he was probably the only one that could’ve made the Sussexes happy, by allowing them to stay in Diana’s home. I know, Althorp wasn’t really her home but the association of Diana to the estate is really strong and probably would’ve mollified the Sussexes long enough for things to cool down but it doesn’t address the issue that Meghan hates the UK and desperately wants the golden glorious glamor of Hollywood.

Harry does seem to have better relationships with Diana’s sisters but I’m not sure they could’ve convinced the Sussexes to change their mind without being able to give them Diana in the way that only Earl Spencer could, as he is the current occupant for Althorp.

But for all I know, maybe they did call the Spencers for help and it just didn’t work. But I don’t think they did, because it would’ve leaked out. Maybe they tried to and Meghan blocked it because she knew once Diana was invoked, it was game over and she’d be stuck. Or maybe she had already invoked Diana to Harry and that’s how she convinced him to do this in the first place and now Diana’s sisters coming in with their version of Diana would undo her hard work.

Anyway. Not really a national security analysis. Personally, I don’t like doing hindsight analysis - where you take everything you know now and apply it to a situation years ago in the last - because then you’re making assumptions and assumptions end up turning opinion into fact. That’s not objective.

I prefer to focus hindsight analysis on “what we knew then” with “what we know now about what we knew then.” Specific to the January 2020 bro-chat, there isn’t much context for that. The only thing that changes is how much anger Harry had at the time, with revelations in all the royal books, towards not being treated exactly the same as William by everyone - his wife, the public, the family, the monarchy, etc.

I can’t comment on the national security aspects of why the PM may or may not have decided to speak with Harry about Megxit because at the time in January 2020, there weren’t concerns about defection or bought loyalty. Not publicly, at least. At the time, the public concerns were about Harry’s relationship with the press, and with that we knew that Harry was friendly with certain members of the press and liked speaking to them because they made him feel important. Remember, the interview with the Russian pranksters where the general public began to realize “wait a minute…” wasn’t until March 2020.

I don’t know that I have anymore predictions for Megxit. Obviously the biggest issue is whether Archie is “of the body” as there’s been a lot of speculation Megxit happened (partially) to obscure that. I’m not sure we’ll ever get the answer to that.

Some other guesses:

Exactly when, where, and with whom all the contract negotiations for their content deals (Quibi, Netflix, Spotify, The Bench, Penguin Random House, and Oprah) began. There’s a lot of very plausible speculation that these talks (and Netflix filming) began way before 2020.

The press lawsuits - who, what, where, when, and how. I want to know everything - who finally convinced Harry to sue? What role did Elton really have in it? Who’s bankrolling the lawsuits? Did Harry seek lawyers out or did lawyers seek Harry out? How much influence did Meghan have on the lawsuits? Were the lawsuits preemptive to get Fleet Street to stop investigating or talking about the inconsistencies in Archie’s birth?

The exact details and timing of how Megxit went down. Who stayed with Archie, and where, while the Sussexes were in the UK each time? Who financed their expenses? When did Trudeau learn that he was footing their entire bill and how long before he booted the Sussexes - was it immediate or was it only when the public began complaining? When did Meghan start complaining about Canada and began demanding they move to the US? When did Oprah and Tyler Perry come into the picture? How long did they really plan to stay in Canada before moving to the US? Did they take advantage of the Covid panic to expedite their US move or were they already in the US before the revenge tour? What did/does Dan Wootton know that he didn’t publish? What did/does Scobie know about Megxit? Was the BRF aware that the goal was always to move to the US? Did the BRF really believe it was the media that made the Sussexes quit? Did the Sussexes really quit monarchy or did The Queen actually fire them as speculated

[katy-l-wood]

deviantART, Twitter, and the Death of the Social Media Subscription (And why tumblr might be getting it right.)

Okay, so I've been thinking about making this post for the last couple weeks since Twitter started melting down, and now deviantART is melting down as well which adds an interesting new twist. This post isn't going to discuss AI art directly, but I will touch on userbase feedback/administrative response in relation to what happened with dA.

Firstly, a little background on me: I grew up on dA. It was my first social media site and for a long time my only one. I started using it without an account when I was around 10/11 and made my first account when I was 12 in 2007 (which, of course, involved lying about my age). From then on I LIVED there. I uploaded art, I joined and ran contests, I became a volunteer for the forums in my mid teens, I alpha and beta tested new features, I wrote detailed write-ups of new feature launches, I watched the site launch multiple new versions of itself, I filled out feedback surveys, and I paid for years of subscriptions before I got seniority from being a former volunteer. Hell, they even offered me a job once, but I was 18 and no amount of money in the world would make me willingly move to Hollywood where they were based.

Point is, I was tuned in. Immensely. So what I'm talking about here? It's from that point of view.

dA has had subscriptions the entire time I was a member. They were always relatively affordable and offered you features that made the site better, but if you didn't have them the site was still perfectly usable. The subscriptions originally got you stuff like using journal skins, putting custom CSS on your page, access to private subscriber forums and chats, more storage room, etc.. Perks, but nothing you couldn't function without. Over the years other things were added, like being able to schedule uploads or change your username, but, again, these were PERKS. The site was still totally usable without those features. Your art still got seen, people could still find your content in the search, people could still leave comments.

But here's where Twitter and it's current nonsense comes in: as part of a dA subscription you got a special symbol in front of your name. These symbols changed over the years and originally were just standard keyboard symbols. For example, as a senior, before the symbols changed to what they are now, my username looked like this:

^Katy-L-Wood (which was affectionately referred to as the senior hat.)

If I was staff, my username would have looked like this:

$Katy-L-Wood

There were other symbols as well for things like volunteers, deactivated/banned users, and regular users. Everyone had their symbol and it worked so well. It let you know at a glance if a member was a trusted staff member that would give you real information about something, or a volunteer that could help you with harassment in the forums, or a senior member that likely knew all the ins and outs of the website.

To me, it feels like that's more in line with what Musk should have done with Twitter. He should have left verification as it was, and then introduced a new symbol to denote subscribed users. A blue plus sign or something. If you were verified AND subscribed you'd get, IDK, a blue check with a white outline around the blue. (And, even then, an additional symbol wouldn't have really been necessary, but everyone just likes neat little badges. They're like stickers. Everyone loves stickers.)

Then give the subscribed users special features that ENHANCE the site, but don't serve as a detriment if you don't have them. Give them a more robust inbuilt scheduling system. Give them security features like inbuilt auto-deleting of older tweets. Give them larger upload limits for images and videos. Give them more profile customization. Give them a longer bio with multiple links. Give them the newsletter feature. Give them the monetization features.

Because you know what? It is totally valid for a website to offer subscriptions, to try and monetize themselves. It costs money to run a big social media site, and advertising as we know it is dying. Websites need to figure out other ways to bring in money, and a good subscription model can do that.

But Twitter did not choose a good subscription model. They chose one that caused chaos to the tune of billions of dollars across multiple major industries. They choose one that would have made the site totally unusable without the subscription, due to how it was supposed to push subscribed users tweets onto the main feed.

Then we circle back to deviantART. I could talk about the downfall and now death of deviantART for HOURS. But we'll focus on subscriptions here. Because their subscriptions are no longer worth it. The majority of the fun perks are gone. There's levels to the subscriptions now, and those of us like myself who were supposed to have lifetime subscriptions as a thank you for helping moderate the site are not at the topmost level, which feels like a kick in the teeth.

And the limited features the subscriptions do have now? Many aren't perks. They are major functionality aspects. You want to get any sort of analytics for your page? Pay for them. You want to be able to take commissions via the website for more than $100? Pay for it. You want to customize your page to suit you and your work like you used to be able to do with a subscription? Well, you only get a couple choices now, and no custom CSS.

Then there's Fragments. IDK why, but deviantART seems obsessed with coming up with weird little currencies that cause a ton of harm. Their first one, Points, tanked the art market EVERYWHERE, even outside the website, in a way that still has an effect well over a decade later. Now they've gone and added a second one on top of the Points, which are still there as well. This new one is called Fragments. Fragments can be used to purchase little badges that you can award to deviations you like, comments you enjoy, etc.. There's three levels and the third one, the diamond badge, is the issue here.

See. As a senior member I get gifted 300 of these Fragments every week by dA, and I get to use them to purchase the badges. A diamond badge, specifically, costs 300 Fragments, and if I give someone a diamond badge (and they're not subscribed yet), it ALSO gives them a free month of the lowest level subscription. So every month I can, essentially, hand out a free month of subscription to anyone on the site.

I just checked my account and, as I've never used Fragments, they've just built up in my account. I have over 18,000 of them right now, which is enough to award 61 months of membership. A month normally costs $3.95, so all told that's about $250 worth of memberships that I can hand out using just over a year's worth of fragments.

Clearly, dA is banking on people getting a taste of subscription and then paying to continue it. But they're still essentially handing every subscribed user a $250 check every year. 10 users and that's $2,500 they're not getting. 100 users and it's $25,000. For a company hemorrhaging money and struggling to hold on to its userbase, there are a lot better ways to keep users around that don't involve trying to coerce them into paying using underhanded marketing techniques.

It doesn't matter, though, because ever since dA launched their new "Eclipse" version of the site, and now this fiasco with AI, there are no recovery options left. They're done. They have exhausted all goodwill anyone had for them. They took away tons of subscription features, they took away tons of site features overall, and time and time again since Eclipse launched they have 100% ignored user feedback. AI is not the first time they asked "hey, how do you feel about this?" a few months before launching a new feature, and then completely ignored every single thing the userbase said and launched the feature anyway. Then, this time with the AI, they not only did that, they were outright rude towards those who rightfully called them out. During the live meeting with the CEO and concerned artists the CEO repeatedly talked over those who were present, dismissed concerns, and just outright acted like. Well. An asshole CEO.

All of this is to say: a subscription model CAN be a great way to keep a website alive, to not be beholden to a world of dying advertisers, but you've gotta do it right and you've gotta do it consistently. Twitter did it wrong, and it'll kill them. deviantART started out doing right, did a 180, and now it's going to help kill them.

But tumblr. Ah tumblr. Our little blue hellsite. They've dipped their toes in the water of subscriptions and, so far, haven't really gotten those toes chewed off for doing it wrong. And why? Because they've made it fun to give them money in support of the website. It's fun to get crabs or a shitty horse on your dash (or inflict them on others), it's fun to mock the Twitter downfall with the special double blue checks, but the site is still totally usable without these things. (Er, well, as usable as tumblr ever is, lol.)

I, personally, would like to see tumblr build a more robust subscription/monetization system, because I think it could be what saves this site we love so much. But they have to keep it fun. They have to keep it optional. They have to keep the site usable without it. They have to make people want to subscribe, not force us to because there's no other way to use the site, or because we've been tricked into it.

(Putting the words "Long Post" here so they'll stay attached even in reblogs.)

[caramelcleopatraa]

vi. SUIT & TIE

word count : 2.1k

x : hello hello hello beautiful people! it's finally starting to get good you guys! (lol) as always, excuse the errors you see, and leave comments.... I love comments. I do have a taglist! comment down below if you want me to add you <3

content: Mafia!Roman Reigns x Designer!Reader, suggestive themes, 18+

Your outfit for today 

It was a surprisingly quiet Saturday morning. Today your shop was closed, but your staff was still working tirelessly to finish the influx of custom orders. This was no uncommon flux however, it was that time of the year. La Mesa Alta’s annual ball was right around the corner, and people were coming to you so that they could scrounge together some outfits. You’ve been on your feet for a while, cutting at different types of fabric, sewing, perfecting, and repeating. This would be a vicious cycle, but you loved creating too much to be burdened by the workload and demand requested of you and your staff. If anything, that demand made you work harder.

A busy 4 hours later, you finally get the chance to sit down. It’s been a day already, and it's only noon. You were a little concerned that Mercedes didnt get back to you at 10, but you knew she would call you back at some point in the day. You open your laptop, and see a notification at the top from a name you didn't expect. 

! 1 Gmail Notification from dearrawashington@gmail.com

‘I know you’re fucking lying’

“Umm Gio! Mads! Here… and quickly!” They hurry quickly to your side and look at your computer. “What is i- what the fuck is that?” Gio says, pointing at the notification in the top right corner. Madison folds her arms across her chest and sits in her hip, rolling her eyes “I know that’s not who I think it is.” You hear Gio sigh and add on, “This bitch.”

“Calm down with the ad libs alright? Who is this girl anyway? I didn't know anything about her until she came into my shop.” You felt like you were missing out on some important information. Everyone knew about this girl except for you, and you know everyone. Usually. “Oh, I forgot, you weren't out here when she was acting a damn fool.” ‘Excuse me?’

“When was this?” You sit back in the swivel chair, looking at Gio. “While you had your appointment with Roman. She was looking through the clothes saying that her friend JT could make one design better than your entire rack.” ‘THE FUCK?!’ 

You didn’t stand for disrespect. Both of them knew that. So they knew that this wasn't gonna slide by you. “Lemme see what this email is about,” you say, typing in your password and opening up your Gmail. You were in no way excited nor looking forward to anything that this email was going to say.

Good Morning Ms. Semele,

Hello, I hope I'm not bothering you.

‘You are.’

I admired your shop and your staff so much! Working at your shop seems like such an honor.

‘This fake ass bitch.’

I was wondering how I can apply for a job there. I would like to work closer with the best fashion designers in the east coast, and you are deserving of the title.

‘Whaaaaaaat?!’

Please email me back at dearrawashington@gmail.com

~ With love, De’arra Washington

It was dead silent for the next minute and a half. She talks shit about your shop and then wants paid employment here the next day? You had seen all of it. ‘Maybe this can be helpful?’ With this influx of orders, you had been putting your staff through overtime. Maybe one more person could lighten the load for them. You didn't like the idea of her working at your shop based on what you had heard, but if she was offering help, you were going to give her a chance. You clicked the three dots and selected reply and typed a short response.

Hello,

Thank you. Much appreciated. Could you send in a resume please, so that I can look at your work experience?

~ Y/N Semele

“What the hell are you doing?” Madison looks at you with wide eyes. “Calm down, I don't plan to employ her, I just want to see if she’s any good. I already have another person who wants to work here that has a good resume.”

RING RING

Your phone buzzes loud against the counter and an unknown number displays at the top. You pick up the phone to hear a voice you had been waiting to hear all morning. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, it's Mercedes. I’m calling from my personal phone.” Fucking finally. “What happened to 10am?” She chuckled to herself and replied, “Got busy. Do you want the information or not?” “I paid good money, didn't I?” She sighs and says, “Fair.” I settled into the chair and put the phone on speaker. You told Madison to tell the other employees to take their lunch break while you three listened to Mercedes give a rundown on De’arra. She joins back with you and Gio and you tell Mercedes that you're ready.

“Alright. De’arra Washington, daughter of Kenan Johnson. He was one of the richest thiefs in the west coast. Specifically in California and Oregon. He stole everything from pencils to old paintings to jewelry. He was on the run for a while, so he fled to Florida and started his own family business and made that into a family mafia. Here in Florida, he met up with a prostitute and turned her into a housewife and had a baby girl while orchestrating robberies from the comfort of his home. De’arra is all kinds of spoiled. Barely got her high school diploma, and her father bribed the president of Howard University so she could study there. Got into a lot of trouble up there stealing shit.. Who would've guessed. And daddy was there to save her. After 2 years, she decided she didn’t want the college life and desired wealth, like her father and moved back to Florida. Speaking of Kenan, he's been eyeing Roman since he moved down here. That’s probably why De'arra is hanging onto him like a lost child. If I knew anything from my years in this business, I'd guess that they are the family trying to challenge Roman, or disassemble the Anoa’i family.”

“So you’re telling me that I'm dealing with a girl with a case of sticky fingers?” She laughs lightly and says, “Basically.”

! 1 Gmail Notification from dearrawashington@gmail.com

This must be the resume.

Of course! Here is my resume 

resume.pdf

~ With love, De’arra Washington

“Is she emailing you?” Mercedes asks, her tone laced with confusion, understandable though. “Yeah, I'm gonna see what she can do or if she can help me out here at the shop.”

“I've seen her resume before, it's forged. She’s only worked at minimum wage jobs. So anything that has to do with corporate jobs and fashion design is fake as fuck.” ‘What the hell is going on here?!’

“You still gonna give her a chance?” Gio says, reading the fake resume. “She’s not getting a chance, but I'm still gonna let her do a training session today so I can see what she is about.”

2:30 pm

You emailed her back and told her to come here at 2:30 pm to do a training session, which would technically be more like orientation. Both Gio and Madison knew that this could go sideways quickly if she tries something, but they also knew that you weren’t dumb. You knew how to handle yourself in bad situations. And you didn’t let anyone push you around. A red corvette sped across the huge display windows and disappeared into the parking lot on the side of the building. You took a deep breath to prepare yourself for the foolery you were going to face today. You fixed up your desk space and closed the file filled with De’arra’s personal information. 

 You heard the door open and saw two people walking in. “Ms. Semele?” You give her a polite smile and depart from your desk to shake her hand. There she was, wearing a pink crop top stopping right below her breasts and dark ripped jeans with pink butterfly strappy heels. She was hand in hand with someone you didn't know you would see today. 

“Hey Ms. Expert.” 

That made you genuinely smile. “Didn’t think I'd see you here again. Helping out the missus?” He smiles at you and slowly licks his lips, eyes drifting up and down your body. His eyes found yours and he focused all of his attention on you. “Yeah, I said I was gonna take care of her, and imma do just that.” De’arra gushes and latches onto his arm, but he doesn't budge; he keeps his eyes on you, smirking at you, adding the cherry on top. ‘Was he saying that to me?’ You briefly remember the last time you two spoke in person, and it seems like he was going to make good on his words. 

“Oh good, you're here, you can put your stuff in the faculty room. That ok Y/N?” Gio says walking in from the factory downstairs. “Yeah that’s fine. I need to talk with Roman anyways,” You reply, and Gio gives you a simple head nod. “What do you need to talk to him for?” You look at De’arra and she is already sizing you up. You laughed to yourself. There’s no way she’s really trying to pull these strings right now. “About La Mesa Alta’s annual ball.” You kept it short and sweet. Of course, that's not what you guys were actually going to talk about, but you needed to get her off your back. “Well my family is going to be added to La Mesa Alta too, so I should be a part of this conversation,” De’arra demands. “The only thing you should be a part of is your training session. Give me a second i'll be right there,” You fired back, shutting down her request. He trails behind you, but doesnt get far, due to De’arra’s small hand latching onto his wrist.

“You guys can just talk out here-”

“Hell no.” You were getting sick of this back and forth already. “Well why the hell not?” 

“Because it’s a private conversation about mafia business.” You could feel that she was already catching an attitude. “Well what type of mafia business involves you being in a room with him alone?” ‘This bitch..’ You turned around for the final time, and your face couldn’t hide the fact that you were fed the hell up. “The type of mafia business that doesn't involve you. Come on Roman.” He follows you into the room and closes the door. 

You wipe your hands across your face and catch him looking at you with a sly smirk. “Don’t look at me like that.” He walks closer to you and takes his hand in yours and holds it above your head, twirling you to face away from him. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind. You close your eyes and melt into his touch. You forgot how much you liked his touch. “That was so sexy.” His breath gave you tingles as he talked into the crook of your neck. “You missed me baby?” While he was luring you with his voice, his hands sneakily dipped into the waistband of your sweats. You turned your head to look at him and gently grab his chin. Your eyes shift from his eyes to his lips, and you lean in to kiss him, but his fingers teasing your folds stop you. “I didn't hear an answer.” He was already making you melt, and you were loving every single second of it. “Y-yes baby I missed you.” He was teasing you, getting close to your lips and then pulling away while rubbing at your sensitive clit. You couldn't stand it. You pull his chin closer to you, trying your hardest to kiss him, but he keeps pulling away still.

“Please baby, kiss me.” You wanted to feel his lips on yours so badly. Without warning his right hand clasps around your neck and finally attaches his lips to yours. His left hand was hard at work, pinching and applying pressure to your clit, while both of your tongues are fighting for dominance. You grind your hips against his hand, giving up on dominance for the time being and letting him take over. He takes his hands off of your neck to tug your tube top down to your waist, freeing your breasts. You moan into his mouth, feeling his warm hands grab at your breasts and the pressure building up between your legs. “Fuck baby that feels so goo-”

BANG BANG BANG

“De’arra decided she doesn't want to do her training session. She’s going to file a complaint to La Mesa Alta to have your shop shut down.”

‘Are you fucking serious?’

🏷️tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2

[never-goingtopostanything]

Eternyx headcanons!

Night Swan despite being a dictator does not actively rule Eternyx if an issue is brought directly to her she hands it off to Jack to deal with, she is too busy with her take over of the danceverses to rule over Eternyx.

There are very few police in Eternyx because of how much violent crimes there is and no-one wants to put there lives at risk when their families can hardly survive as it is.

There is a total of 5 schools, 2 primary schools and 3 high schools, in Eternyx they are all over filled and understaffed, Jack is trying and failing to get more staff in the five schools and more schools built, Night Swan refuses to give him a budget to do so.

2/3 of teens and children don't have parents and live either in shitty apartments or on the streets, half of them were abandoned because their parents couldn't care for them and the other halves parents are dead. Eternyx has no orphanages for parents to give up their children too.

The people of Eternyx can barely afford to live but Night Swan charges a ridiculous amount of money to travel by starship to a different danceverse so they can't even leave because they can't afford to pay to get on a starship.

Only 3% of people are able to get qualifications when leaving school each year, those qualifications are often low level qualifications, only one or two people will get higher qualifications and get decent jobs.

There is no way to pursue higher education in Eternyx, anyone who has left school and wants to continue learning will end up working for years just to leave Eternyx and that's assuming they aren't leaving to get their basic qualifications in the first place in which case they might never get a job in the first place and will therefore never be able to get qualifications.

There is over 5,000 prisons in Eternyx every one of them holds 1,000 people they are all filled, there is constant break outs because there is maybe 3 guards per prison, the prisons are constantly being raided by citizens because there is food it might be shitty food but it's food and the majority of people or starving they'll take whatever they can get, prison food is better than no food.

The only good thing about Eternyx is that there is free healthcare, it's a recent thing and it only happened because Jack was able to convince Night Swan that no one would pay for healthcare because of how shitty it is, so now people get free healthcare but they do need to pay for medication from pharmacies so she's not really loosing much.

Eternyx is the only danceverse that still has executions, they are very public events that citizens are forced to attend, there are at least 10 a day, if someone is caught not attending an execution then they will be executed so people will leave work, school and appointments just to be just the executions so they won't be in danger.

The public is unaware that Night Swan is kidnapping coaches as far as they are concerned the minions are wilfully working for Night Swan and they don't know she is planning to take over the other danceverses.

The public is also under the impression that Night Swan is working to improve their living situations, she obviously is not trying to fix the problems in Eternyx but the people don't know that. When Night Swan started to rule Eternyx it was in a much worse state than what it currently is in.

Underage drinking is a massive problem once Jack set up a volunteer run program where people would be paid to go into bars and clubs and try to find out the ages of the people there and kick them out if they are underage, it backfired because people would get their friends to sign up for it then they kick each other out get the money then they would go out to an other bar or club the next day, the volunteer system was shut down by the end of the month it was introduced. Mihaly and their friends exploited this system the entire time it was active.

Eternyx only has one large major city that is still standing which is a popular tourist place since it is considered the only place safe in Eternyx, Swan tower is in the centre of that city overlooking the whole city. The city itself looks gorgeous with pink and purple lights all over the place keeping the city bright at all times, Night Swan sends her minions to keep the city clean as well if you don't get distracted by the lights then you will notice that there are homeless people everywhere you look.

Eternyx has the highest poverty and homelessness rates out of all the danceverses by almost 40% more than the next highest.

there is a country side that is beautiful during the winter but no one ever goes to it because of how cold it gets during the winter.

Because of the eternal night Eternyx is always cold.

Cygnus city was destroyed when a factory exploded and caused dangerous chemicals to leak over the entire city.

The dark flow in Eternyx often causes people who don't have a high resistance to it to become incredibly ill and in some cases die.

[houseofbrat]

Have it on good authority that Angelina was known as crazy at the UN by many of the staff members, and the actual reason she left is because she demanded to be made a Diplomat instead of Goodwill Ambassador and gave them an ultimatum, make me a Diplomat or I will leave. They said no, and she left.

Angelina has such a long history of using her children in the press I can't believe more people aren't critical of this.

Not taking away from what a nightmare Brad is, obviously he sucks.

Thank you for bringing this up. I have heard similar things from friends working in international aid organizations often contracted to work with the UN. Also, remember all of the press and accolades she received due to her association with William Hague and how they created an Initiative for violence against women in conflict zones? It was basically abandoned shortly after its creation. Granted Hague retired so she shouldn’t shoulder the entire blame, but considering Angelina continues to receive special treatment as an actress who isn’t like the rest of Hollywood — sHe AcTuAlLy CaReS — I find it astounding that this has had no impact on her. If she needed to take a step back due to family or health issues, that’s okay! It doesn’t take a lot to do a handoff to other (more qualified and capable!) individuals and cut a check and continue to support with fundraising. But to have an independent governmental body say that you’re “letting down survivors” due to your inaction or lack of interest is absolutely something that deserves attention.

Here’s a Guardian article which gives a great summary: https://amp.theguardian.com/global-development/2020/jan/09/letting-survivors-down-criticism-for-william-hague-angelina-jolie-sexual-violence-in-war-zones-scheme

And here’s the report: https://icai.independent.gov.uk/psvi/

Also have it on good will that when she visited the Houses of Parliament she was a diva nightmare from hell, so there’s that too

Her move to the UN was motivated by public relations. She contacted them and pitched that she be a representative for Unicef, the UN agency that provide humanitarian aid children. The UN said no. Her image at that point wasn't what the UN wanted associated with children. So she ended up working for refugees.

Not surprised by this at all. I knew a few people who did international aid work in various places and Jolie was well known as a opportunistic fake who came, took pictures, and then returned to her 5 star hotel.

I know someone who knew Brad and AJ in similar circles and his biggest takeaway is how very “not bright” they both are.

I’ve posted about this before and most people don’t believe me but that’s ok .. Brad wanted the kids to be disciplined, in school, not be spoiled - and Angelina wanted to be their bestie, buying whatever they wanted and letting them do whatever they wanted. Now she just talks shit about him, brainwashing them into to believing he’s the devil. He’s not perfect by any stretch, but from what I know, she’s way worse than what is presented in the media. Very manipulative, calculating and nasty. Source: I’m an almost 60 year old woman who used to work in the entertainment industry and still have many friends in their circle.

Everything you say! I have two solid sources who are a-list and one of them works with her, the other share a team member. Shes a menace. Im team no one but their kids but truly she is dangerously manipulative. Perfect example she paid someone to build her fashion line, promised them co-creator credit and when it was time for it to be debuted in Vogue, called the editor and specifically said don’t name the main designer. The main designer found it and when confronted Angelina continuously denied and eventually pretended it didn’t even happen. Shes not all there. Source: been in industry for two decades and around these two quite a bit

This is essentially what I had heard as well. He had a more traditional approach to parenting, like set bedtimes, cooked family meals together, time-outs when the kids acted up, asking them to do their share of chores, etc. and she just didn’t believe in any of it. It was a constant source of friction. He was supposedly really unhappy that the kids ate a lot of junk and fast food as their meals. And yes, when things tanked between them, she worked on them to alienate them from him.

I used to work in the executive offices at Warner Bros in the late 00’s and this absolutely tracks with everything I heard about them from the other assistants and receptionists.

That seems like her PR spin though. I’ve heard (from reliable sources) that her refusal to set any kind of boundaries or discipline of any kind with the children was the main issue between them and ultimately was the match in the powder keg of the ugly airplane incident. Her older kids especially have no respect for authority. He wanted more structure and discipline. Now they are *gasp “troubled.” Who could have foreseen it? He “lunged at” the oldest kid (who is also “troubled” now) and Angelina jumped on his back. Not his best moment for sure but he doesn’t have a history of violence. Since then he’s been sober for eight years.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don’t Go Blindly Into The Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Meanwhile there is a darkness growing in Ketterdam, and it seems a killer may be stalking the streets of West Stave. An unknown evil is closing its jaws over the city, and it’s starting to feel like nowhere is safe.

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus @i-need-help-this-is-my-obsession @devoted-people-hater

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: implied trafficking references, implied violence, implied death references, threats, implied abuse references, abduction references, separation from family/loss of family

AO3 link

Chapter 56 - Nina

Even after mulling on her words for a few days and giving herself the time to assume that some smaller details may be over exaggerated or entirely fabricated, Nina was still feeling pretty sure that the rumours Siobhan had heard were complete and utter nonsense. Squallers flying, she’d said, and Tidemakers turning to mist? Please. Whatever this drug was, Siobhan had no name for it from whatever hearsay she’d picked up on, and however the story was being spun, this was not the truth. It couldn’t be.

Though the disbelief hadn’t stopped Nina from asking around, had it? 

Her contacts in Ketterdam weren’t extensive but they could be considered reasonable enough for her purposes; she was trying to start a conversation to find out whether anyone knew the whereabouts of Wylan’s friend Anya, anyway, so she reasoned that if she was already talking she might as well bring the rumours into it too. And people had heard of it, she started to realise. Jurda parem, they were calling it. She supposed it made sense if it had some link to jurda, the little blossoms were stimulants and to Nina’s understanding it sounded like this - obviously fictional, she promised herself - drug was as well, but it was that second word that bothered her. Parem. A Shu word, she knew. Without pity.

There was nothing solid anyone could really give her, so it was probably just some melodrama that would blow over within the month, but for some reason Nina couldn’t shake it. 

The hunt for Anya had been less fruitful. Anyone who had heard of her - which so far was only one Fabrikator from the other side of town, though there was a Squaller at another house on West Stave who’d said he knew someone in the Geldin District who might be able to find out more - could only tell her that they’d heard nothing of the girl since her indenture to Councilman Van Eck came to a somewhat seemingly abrupt end. That was hardly unusual around here; Nina doubted anyone would think twice about it. 

Nina could have just waited a few days to see if the Squaller’s contact managed to find anything for her, but she desperately wanted to be able to give Wylan news - even just of progress in searching, if not anything concrete. She thought he needed to hear something good. 

“The staff are mostly too well paid to bribe,” said Inej, speaking Suli, as the pair walked down East Stave together, “But I managed to gather a little gossip,”

It had been three days since the de Baal job, and the sun had briefly returned to Ketterdam in between the recent rain showers but the air was still cold and Nina was wrapped snugly into her coat. Inej usually, and to a casual onlooker would have done today, seemed resistant to the weather, but more than once on this walk so far she’d tugged on her long sleeves to pull them over her palms. Nina wasn’t sure if she was cold or if something was on her mind. She wondered if she should ask, but she didn’t want to pry. 

The ground was still wet and the cobblestones were slippery underfoot as they strolled, but Nina had been watching Inej with close attention for the past ten minutes and was yet to see her slip or struggle with her injured knee. Good. Inej had neglected to mention it since a few nights ago, the night of her birthday, when she broke into Nina’s room at the White Rose in tears. Nina still wasn’t sure if she’d seen anything in particular when she’d been scoping out the WIllow Switch, or if it was all just too much for her to keep it under wraps any longer. Hopefully, after what Nina had told her that night, Inej wouldn’t feel like she had to keep it buried anymore; if she wanted - needed - to talk, Nina would always be there. 

“Apparently there was quite a shouting match the day she left,”

Nina raised an eyebrow. 

She’d asked Inej after her fruitless initial attempt at tracking Anya down, if she could try to find out anything about Van Eck sending her away, only if she had time and only as soon as she had a chance. Nina glanced at her watch - it had been about ten hours. 

“All I could gather from the servants was that she and Van Eck were briefly alone, and then she ran out in the main hallway shouting for Wylan. They said that she tried to attack Van Eck and the guards had to pin her down,”

“She attacked him?”

“Well,” Inej shrugged, “The servants are also spreading that the reason Wylan left was because he got caught in a sweaty romp with one of his tutors, so I’d probably take their words with a pinch of salt,”

Still, Nina thought, that seems like a development. Nothing that happened in that house ever seemed to quite make sense. 

“Do you think…?” Nina hesitated, and glanced at Inej to see that she was staring up at her, patient but expectant, “He wouldn’t have… killed her, would he?”

Inej paused for a moment, her head cocked slightly to one side as she considered. They had both stopped walking for this moment, and Nina found herself rubbing the soft lining of her coat between her thumb and forefinger as she watched Inej’s mind turn. Inej had pulled her sleeve right up over her palm. 

“No,” she said, decisively, shaking her head, “No, I don’t think he would have. Where’s the money in that?”

Inej turned to make another step and Nina made to follow her, again trying to study the younger girl’s gate until she looked up and - catching Nina off guard - asked lightly: 

“Did you know that Elodie has ten siblings?”

Nina blinked. 

“Really?”

“Well, eight living siblings; five older, three younger. She was telling Jeluna about them,”

Nina frowned, nodding slowly. She wasn’t sure where Inej was going with this. 

“She’s never met the youngest, her mother was pregnant when she came to Ketterdam,”

Eleven children. Saints, some women were bloody stronger than Nina was. 

“I thought…” her voice drifted, thinking of what she had told Inej at the Slat when they’d spoken quietly about Elodie before. 

“Her parents?”

Nina nodded. 

“I think so. The way she talks about it all, at least, makes me think you were right. It sounds like she all but raised her younger sisters alone; a six year old and a one year old. They… they won’t remember her, will they?”

What was she trying to get at, here? Nina tucked her thumb inside her palm and began to work it against her skin in comforting, repetitive circles. Her earliest memories were all at the Little Palace in Os Alta; groups of small school children, raised by teachers and nurses and in a way each other, peering on tiptoe through the windows of the Palace to see the older Grisha rushing about below on their important missions. She remembered her early lessons, with Healers and Heartrenders alike in their little chairs where some were still so small their feet didn’t touch the ground. She remembered, at least for the most part though maybe the finer details would be lost on her, the dormitory she’d lived in before she was old enough to move into a double room, split with one other student when twelve and deemed an inappropriate age to make them stay with the tiniest of the others, or to have to change in the space shared with so many. She remembered the Civil War, the evacuation of the school to Keramzin, trying to calm the littlest ones from crying even as she had wanted to simply give in and start sobbing herself. She remembered the Darkling’s army finding them, and damn everything straight to hell if she didn’t remember the Shadow Fold. She remembered having her own bed chambers upon her return, and wondering whether she’d reached the age the school deemed proper for it or if there were simply less Grisha than rooms left over. 

But Nina didn’t remember the arms that had held her before she could walk. She didn’t remember who had fed her before she sat in a dining hall with dozens of other children. She didn’t remember who dressed her before she learned how to herself, or who gave her the clothes she had travelled in the whole journey to Os Alta. The journey, at least to her faded recollection and a little child’s mind, had been incomprehensibly long, and she had spent it - though this part she no longer remembers very clearly - sat on the bench of a carriage with her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around them as she glared over the top of her knees at the man and woman in the fancy, colourful coats. In her tiny fist she had clutched a handkerchief, someone from wherever she had come from must have given it to her, and with all her minuscule might she tried to keep it safe and secret. But as soon as she arrived at the Little Palace she was led to a small, strange looking room, given a pile of clean clothes, and told to change. She didn’t have a kefta yet, of course, and the children didn’t exactly have a uniform - though there were certain rules expected of them - but they were not allowed to keep the clothes they had arrived in. 

“It’s a plague precaution,” the woman in the pretty coat had told her, kneeling down so they were closer to the same height, “We just have to be safe, you understand that don’t you?”

Nina didn’t remember this by now. She didn’t remember nodding at the woman slowly, even though she didn’t really know what that meant. It sounded scary. Everything was scary today. 

“And look at these new clothes,” she’d smiled, holding up a blouse that was a crisper white than the one Nina wore beneath her cardigan, clearly much newer, “Aren’t they pretty?”

If Nina really searched her mind, she could bring to the surface some vague snippets of that day. She could remember that her cardigan was a thin, woollen thing, of comfy navy blue. When she took it off she did her best to fold it in front of her to lay it on the table, though it probably looked a mess, and she could remember the golden embroidered crest on the too-small-to-put-anything-in breast pocket. A school uniform, then? But surely Nina had been too small for that, yet? What else could it have been? 

She could remember, as well, the embroidered black stitches on the inner tag of the cardigan, that matched the tag of her blouse and skirt and the label inside her shoes; the letters of her name in neat, threaded lines. But she couldn’t remember who had sewn them. 

She’d washed all over and then dressed in the clothes that the woman with the pretty coat had left for her, and had then been walked hand-in-hand through the doorway to an entirely new world. That was when they found that she was still clutching her little handkerchief, refusing to give it up. She might have cried, she didn’t remember by now, but plague precautions were plague precautions, Nina needed to be a big strong girl now, and her tears were not appropriate for a future soldier.

“You are special, Nina,” someone had told her - the woman with the pretty coat? Someone different, in a different coloured coat? There were so many of them, all so tall and strong and busy. Nina had never felt smaller, “You are part of the Second Army, now. You are forever part of something bigger than yourself. Isn’t that special? Isn’t that exciting?”

Nina smiled, nodded, let them take her hand and lead her on. She trained and studied and dedicated her entire life to Ravka, to her home, to the country that would love her forever, to the Second Army of which she would now forever be one small cog in the grand machine. She was Grisha, she was special, she was a soldier of the Second Army. That meant something.

They took the handkerchief and burned it, along with the clothes that someone had embroidered for her. Someone for whom Nina had not even done the courtesy of a memory. 

“I suppose so,” she said quietly, without looking at Inej. 

It wasn’t like she hadn’t been happy at the Little Palace. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to be part of the Second Army. But for whatever reason this had been bothering Nina lately. The lack of the Before. 

“My little cousins will have forgotten me, won’t they?”

Oh. That was where she was going with this. 

Nina finally turned to see Inej, who was staring fervently ahead in what looked like an effort not to drop her gaze down and start studying her boots. She couldn’t really say anything. She just slipped her hand around Inej’s and squeezed it tightly. What could she say?

[noneedtofearorhope]

An entire Dollar General staff has walked out of their Wisconsin premises due to staffing issues and poor pay and conditions.

Staff allegedly didn’t want to leave their customers in the lurch, but their manager claimed they were underpaid and overworked, and wanted their work to be appreciated by customers and the company. A letter was also found near the entrance of the store, giving more details on the staff's decision to walk out.

"Take this as notice that we the team at store 20610 located in Mineral Point, WI, all quit! We can not and will not work for a company that does not stand behind in true honest form of what they want the world to see them as," it read.

"Although we love and adore our customers, we must take a stand for the community and not allow corporate greed to continuing [sic] preventing people in need of the help they need and could receive. Policies, processes and procedures need to change! Don't make claims about supporting and helping communities when the reality is that it's all about the bottom line and not about support or help!"

Trina Tribolet was the general manager in the store for around a year. She said: "This is something we've been talking about the last couple of months. Until Friday night when we walked away, this weekend was my first time off since Christmas."

She explained staff were underpaid and overworked, adding she'd been working seven days a week for months because she, as the manager, was only allotted so many paid hours to give her staff. She said staff didn't want to leave, but wanted their work to be appreciated.

"A lot of our regulars came in there every day, and it’s hard on all of us to not be able to see them every day because they brighten your day,” she said. Staff followed through with their plans by walking out at the end of the shift and leaving notes on the door to say would all be quitting.

With no staff, the Dollar General remained closed for about three hours before they could get enough team members in. A spokesperson for the company said the store has replaced the entire staff. They declared that Dollar General is "committed to providing an environment where employees can grow their careers and where they feel valued and heard".

One of the biggest issues that led to the walkout was the store's food donation policy as well as hours and pay. The former manager was alarmed by how much of the food they were ordered to throw out. Trina was one of six members of staff working at the Dollar General in Mineral Point, Wisconsin, when they all made the decision to walk out on Friday

Dollar General donates food to specific pantries, but there are strict guidelines the company follows, and only a portion of what’s available goes to helping other people in disadvantaged areas. “There have been tears that have been shed over the fact that we’re throwing away coffee that is not expired, but it’s close,” Ms Tribolet said.

“Or you’re throwing out a box of Lucky Charms that you know there’s a whole bunch of kids that would love to eat those, but you can’t donate them out because you’re supposed to throw them away," Ms Tribolet explained.

In response to Ms Tribolet's issues with the food donation program, the store’s public relations team said it is following guidelines laid out by Feeding America. Over 44 million people in America live in households that struggle to get enough food.

[...]

The Economy Policy Institute's Wage Tracker reports that 92% of Dollar General's 119,904 employees make less than $15 an hour. That's nearly double the number of employees making under $15 at Walmart (51%).

The EPI notes that companies like Dollar General are "notorious for poor working conditions" along with low wages while generating millions in revenue annually and often rewarding their CEOs "with hefty compensation packages."

[stardustshelb]

"Late Checkout" - Danny One Shot

18+. TW: Language & Sexual Content. Your name (female) + Danny. 9,544 words.

Part One

“Mr. Henry, I requested tomorrow off months ago,” you said as you shakily held this week’s work schedule in your hands. You had a good relationship with your boss since you’ve been one of the most reliable employees at the hotel for several years. You looked up to him as a father figure and old friend most days, but you suddenly wanted to strangle him after seeing he scheduled you to work on the one day you asked off.

“I’m sorry but I need you manning the front desk,” your boss said, not looking up from the computer screen. 

“I have a concert tomorrow night. I can’t work,” you said, fighting the lump forming in your throat. You had been looking forward to this day for months and you were not about to let anything or anyone get in the way of that.

“That’s exactly why I need you. The hotel is completely sold out tomorrow because of the concert. It will be all hands on deck,” he said, still avoiding your eye contact.

“I can’t miss that concert,” you said in a stern tone.

“Fine. Let’s make a compromise. Can you stay until after the check-in rush? You could leave around 6:00 p.m.,” he added.

“That doesn’t give me enough time to get ready,” you plead.

“I’m trying to make this work for us both. I know you need the extra hours and I know you can handle the influx of guests we’re anticipating,” he said.

“That’s true, but–” you began.

“If I can get you out of here any sooner, I will,” he said, interrupting you. You start to go through the timeframe in your head. If you brought your concert outfit and cosmetics to the hotel, you could get ready in the breakroom. The distance between the hotel and the arena wouldn’t take more than 15 minutes depending on how fast you could get an Uber. The opener goes on at 7:30 p.m., but you didn’t care if you had to miss part of their set. 

“As long as I am clocked out by 6:00 p.m., I can swing it,” you said with a sigh.

“I know I can always rely on you,” your boss said with a smile. “Who’s the band again?”

“Greta Van Fleet,” you said. Your boss’ puzzled expression made it clear he had no idea who they were.

“I don’t know what you kids today listen to,” he said as he waved his hand like he was shooing away a fly. “But since you’re helping me out by working tomorrow, I’ll fill you in on a secret.” He leaned in closely and lowered his voice. “Did you notice anything peculiar about the room reservations on the top floor?”

You hadn’t paid much attention to which rooms were occupied today since you clocked in; when you saw your name on the work schedule for tomorrow, that took precedence. You logged into your front desk computer and scanned the booking information for the 8th floor. You noticed every room was booked under the same reservation number. Yet, there were no guest names assigned to any of the rooms. As if your boss could sense your confusion, he leaned in closer.

“That band is staying here,” he whispered. You felt your eyes grow wide as if he just admitted his deepest, darkest secret. You turned to face him with a wild look in your eyes. You whispered, “Are you serious?” 

“Their people called months ago and requested a private entrance, booked the entire floor; the whole thing was hush hush,” he said as he mimed an imaginary zipper sealing his lips. 

You suddenly felt yourself begin to sweat in places you didn’t know could sweat. “When will they get here?” you asked. 

“They are set to check in around noon today, and they will check out the day after tomorrow,” he said in a hushed voice. “I’ve got our best housekeeping staff assigned to their floor as well as our kitchen staff on standby in case they order room service. But only you and I know who our special guests really are,” he said with a wink. You hated your boss 10 minutes ago; now you wanted to kiss him. You glanced at the clock and noticed noon was less than an hour away. 

“I am asking, begging, pleading–” you began with your hands clasped together. “Mr. Henry, please, please, please, let me be the one to deliver any extra towels, sheets, blankets, toiletries, whatever they need. Please,” you said.

“You aren’t even scheduled to work tonight,” he said with a laugh.

“I can. I can absolutely work tonight,” you said, continuing to beg.

“I’ll keep you as long as I need you, but no promises,” he said. Without much thought, you wrapped your arms around your boss in an embrace to thank him. He nervously laughed before patting you on top of the head. He was clearly uncomfortable by this sudden display of affection.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he said.

“I won’t!” you exclaimed as you released him from your grateful hug. The idea of potentially meeting the members of your favorite band made you feel lightheaded. You gripped the desk to make sure you weren’t going to pass out.

“I’ll need you to stay here at the front desk while I meet them around back to escort them to their rooms. They’ll be using the service elevator to enter and exit the building. They won’t mingle with the hotel guests at all,” he said. You couldn’t help but to feel bummed that you wouldn’t be part of the welcoming committee, but you decided not to push your luck. You knew you’d find a reason to go up to their floor one way or another. 

You practically watched the clock as it took its time to get to 12:00 p.m. You had already taken a smoke break AKA a break to go freshen up your hair and makeup before the boys checked in. Mr. Henry knew you didn’t smoke, but he didn’t object when you asked for a smoke break. He knew exactly what you were up to. 

Even though you weren’t going to be the one greeting them, you still didn’t want to risk not looking your absolute best. Well, as good as anyone could look in a work uniform. You glanced down at your khaki pants and your light blue polo neatly tucked in. This uniform certainly wasn’t doing your figure any favors. As you helped the line of guests checking out for the day, you saw Mr. Henry step away to take a private phone call. Was it them? Were they here? You struggled to pay attention to the guest in front of you because all you could think about was the idea of meeting the four men who changed your life. Breathe, you idiot.

“I’m going to assist our top floor guests. Call my phone if you have any issues. I’ll be back shortly,” Mr. Henry said to you in a hushed voice. You felt like all of the oxygen in the hotel lobby left with him as he went out the door. 

“Ma’am?” the man in front of you with tired eyes said.

“Yes?” you asked, suddenly aware of where you were.

“Can I get another copy of my bill, please?” he said as if he had already asked you once. Maybe he did. Your mind was elsewhere.

“Yes, yes, of course,” you said as you moved the mouse to print the tired guest a copy of his bill. A short line formed behind him and you tried everything in your power to focus on your job and not the idea that Josh, Jake, Danny, and Sam would be sleeping in rooms that you have access to. Wait, that sounded creepy. You’re not creepy. You’re just freaking the fuck out. Chill.

When Mr. Henry made it back to the front desk, you practically jumped on him. “What were they like? What were they wearing? Were they nice? What rooms are they in? Do they need anything? Who did you talk to? Did they make any requests?” you asked in a rapid-fire fashion.

“Relax, relax,” he said with his hands up like he was bracing himself for impact. 

“Tell me everything!” you exclaimed.

“The ones wearing sunglasses and hats are the ones in the actual band, I presume. They are in rooms 808, 809, 810, and 811. Their management people are occupying rooms on the other side of the hallway per the famous ones’ requests. The rooms in between are vacant, but booked to maintain privacy, of course,” he said. You burned the numbers 808, 809, 810, and 811 into your brain as you listened to Mr. Henry talk. 

“I gave them my cell phone number in case they need anything, so don’t hold your breath that they’ll be calling the front desk,” he said.

“Mr. Henry,” you whined.

“They seem to want total privacy, young lady,” he said pointing his finger at you. You sighed and rolled your eyes at his response. 

“That being said…” he began. “I will let you know if they need anything,” he added with a wink. 

Part Two

“You know your shift ended 34 minutes ago,” Mr. Henry said as he walked up to you at the front desk.

“Oh, did it?” you asked nonchalantly. Normally you’d be clocking out the second your scheduled time ended, but now you had a reason to stay. The guys checked in four hours ago but no sign of them… yet. 

“I can keep you on into the next hour, but then I’ll need you to clock out. You can linger here if you want, but I can’t pay you for it,” he said.

“Yes sir,” you said. Just then you saw the front desk phone light up with a room number that made your heart stop. You stared at the phone, stunned as if it suddenly grew legs.

“Answer it!” Mr. Henry commanded to break you from your trance.

“Hello?” You said in a panic, totally forgetting the customary front-desk-speech you’re supposed to recite each time you answer the phone.

The familiar voice belonging to the man in room 809 said, “Hello. Um, I know this is a strange request, but I was wondering if you could recommend the best local florist to me?” Oh great, he’s sending flowers to his girlfriend. 

“Yes, yes, I can compose a list of our best local florists and deliver it to your room, Mr.—?” you ask.

“Wagner,” the voice answered. It was Danny, but you already knew that. You recognized his sweet, sultry voice immediately. 

“Yes, Mr. Wagner,” you said, trying to keep the squeal out of your voice. “I’ll personally deliver this list to your room shortly.”

“Thanks, you’re an angel,” he said before hanging up. You hung up the front desk phone and took a deep breath. Did that really just happen?

“I’ll personally deliver this to your room shortly,” Mr. Henry mocked you in a high pitched voice. 

“I’m just honoring our guest’s request,” you said while sticking your tongue out. You turned your attention to your computer and opened a new tab to start researching the local florists. Surely Danny knew how to use Google… Why in the world would he need to call the front desk of a hotel for something like this? Oh well. You weren’t going to question it because now you had a reason for making your way up to their floor.

You finished compiling a list of local florists, sorting them from highly rated to lowest, and hit print. You grabbed a mint from the bowl on the counter–that of course was intended for guests only–and reapplied your lip gloss before grabbing the list off the printer. 

“Mr. Henry, I’m delivering this to our guest in room 809,” you said with a smirk. You made your way to the elevator and reminded yourself to take steady breaths as you hit the number 8 button. As the elevator moved up, you felt your stomach grow heavier. Relax. As if you had to command your legs to move, you forced yourself to walk through the open elevator doors. The short distance to room 809 now seemed to be a million miles away. Hoping your sweaty palms didn’t dampen the list of florists, you approached Mr. Wagner’s room and mustered up the courage to knock. As if your knuckles were made of glass, you lightly knocked on his door and waited for him to answer. Alas, the door opened and there in front of you stood a Greek God who came to Earth. You couldn’t believe he was actually there standing in front of you.

“Mr. Wagner, here is your requested list of the best local florists,” you stammered, wondering if you stumbled over any of your words in the process. You had no idea if the words that came out of your mouth were English. Hell, maybe you didn’t even speak at all. 

“There’s my angel,” he said with a smile as he reached for the list in your hands. His fingers lightly grazed yours unintentionally, or was it? You watched his eyes move across your chest, surely just eyeing your nametag. “My sister’s birthday is tomorrow, so I’m needing a bouquet of daisies delivered to the venue,” he added as if to answer your unspoken question of why he would need a florist. 

“Daisies?” you asked.

“Her favorite flower,” he said with a soft smile.

“She has great taste. That’s very kind of you,” you said while biting your lip to hide a relieved smile. “Is there anything else I can assist you with today, Mr. Wagner?” 

“Please call me Danny,” he said with a nervous laugh.

“Mr. Wagner, I–” you began.

“Danny,” he interrupted. You stood there tight-lipped. You knew it was part of your job to always address guests formally, but you also knew that Danny would correct you every single time. 

“Mr. Danny Wagner,” you said, finding a loophole, “is there anything else I can assist you with this afternoon?”

“Yes, actually,” he said. “Since I have you here, could you recommend what I should order for dinner?”

“Yes, of course. We have two wonderful restaurants on property that provide in-room service. Menus for both should be located on your dresser. Personally, I recommend the steak frites or the ahi tuna nachos,” you said.

“And would you be the one to make those deliveries?” he asked.

“No, sir. I will not be working this evening,” you said.

“So that means you are free to join me for dinner tonight?” he asked. Suddenly, you felt your body temperature rise. Your cheeks began to warm, showing a deep shade of red that no blush could ever create.

“Mr. Wagner, I–” you said.

“Danny,” he interrupted again.

“Mr. Danny Wagner, I don’t think–” you said.

“It’s just dinner. I’m going to put in two orders of steak frites and two orders of ahi tuna nachos to be delivered to my room by 7:00 p.m. I hope you will be back here to join me before then,” he said. 

Without thinking, you immediately nodded. “Yes, I’ll be back,” you said. Suddenly, the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen lit up his already glowing face. You swear his eyes even sparkled.

You went home to change out of your unflattering uniform and put on something that was both comfortable and cute. You freshened up your makeup, brushed your hair, and sprayed the expensive perfume that you always saved for special occasions on your neck. You stared at your Greta Van Fleet records and wondered if you should bring them for Danny to sign. Nobody was going to believe that you two were hanging out in his hotel room, and you sure as hell weren’t going to take a picture to prove it. But you wanted to remember what was probably just a fever dream forever, so you grabbed the records and put them in your tote bag. You gave yourself one final look in the mirror before walking out the door. 

On the way back to the hotel, you started to feel nervous. Was this just going to be a one-night-stand? How often does he do this? What if he tries to take it too far? You contemplated turning the car around but something in your head told you to keep driving. No matter how attractive you found him or how much you loved his band, you would not be pressured to do anything you didn’t want to do. You pulled into the employee parking lot–even though you weren’t there as an employee–and took a deep breath before exiting your car. Carrying your tote bag with your Greta Van Fleet vinyls in it, you walked through the automatic glass doors and into the hotel lobby.

“What are you doing back so soon?” Mr. Henry called from behind the desk.

“I was invited to have dinner with a friend,” you said smugly.

“A friend, eh?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes, a friend who is staying on the top floor,” you said, meeting his gaze.

“Please do not harass our guests. I told you about their stay in confidence,” he whispered.

“Mr. Henry, a friend who happens to be staying here invited me to dinner so that’s where I am headed,” you said as you made your way to the elevator. “I’ll call the front desk if I need you,” you added before leaving the lobby. 

As you hit the number 8 button inside the elevator, you nervously bit your lip as the doors closed. You gripped the strap of your tote bag tighter as you tried to remind yourself to stay cool. When the doors opened, you made your way to room 809 where you stood outside his door wondering if you made the whole thing up in your head earlier. There was no way this was real. If he answered the door and had no idea who you were because you made the whole thing up in your head, you would just make a run for it. You knew where all of the emergency exits were. Good plan. You lightly knocked on his door and awaited your fate. Suddenly, the familiar Greek God from earlier appeared in the doorway and was welcoming you inside his room. So it was real. Danny greeted you by name–good to know he wasn’t just staring at your boobs earlier–and you made your way into the hotel room that you knew like the back of your hand. 

“The food should be here in about 15 minutes,” Danny said as he grabbed the remote to turn off the television. You made a mental note that he was watching golf on ESPN. 

“I can’t wait,” you said as you took a seat on the small couch in the room. Sitting on his bed would just be rude.

“What’s in the tote bag?” Danny asked as he took a seat next to you. You could feel your cheeks start to blush as you pulled the vinyls out.

“I was hoping you’d sign these for me,” you said sheepishly.

“Oh hell yeah, of course,” Danny said excitedly as he grabbed the stack from you. “Uh, let me call and see if someone has a Sharpie.”

“It doesn’t have to be right now,” you added quickly.

“Well, I won’t forget. I promise,” he held up his pinky. You wrapped your pinky around his which made your heart beat faster. His big hands made yours look and feel tiny in comparison. 

“I’m so excited for the show tomorrow,” you said.

“What song do you want to hear most?” he asked with a smirk.

“I already know the setlist,” you said, matching his smirk.

“Well, setlists aren’t set in stone, ya know? Seriously, what song would you want to hear tomorrow?” he asked again.

“Well… One song I noticed that wasn’t on the list that I would kill to hear live would probably be ‘Talk On The Street’ if you want total honesty,” you added. Suddenly, Danny jumped up and made his way into the closet. 

“Uh, what are you doing?” you asked, feeling a little nervous. He grabbed a pair of drumsticks and made his way back over to join you on the couch. He turned his body to face you as he began tapping the drums on the sofa cushions. You recognized the beat instantly. He was playing “Talk On The Street'' flawlessly as if the cushions were his drum set. You watched his face as he concentrated on hitting the cushions; you couldn’t help but smile. Before he could finish his performance, a loud knock on the door startled you both.

“Here,” he said, handing you his drumsticks as he jumped up to answer the door. Your hands shook as you held his drumsticks in your hands. Signs of wear and tear were noticeable but they still held up well. You looked up to see Mr. Henry had pushed the room service cart into the room. Four covered dishes were neatly arranged on top of the white tablecloth, along with a bottle of wine and two long-stemmed wine glasses. You quickly met his gaze to give him a reassuring look that you were “ok” before he finished uncovering the dishes and arranging the polished silverware. 

“Would you like me to open the bottle of wine, sir?” Mr. Henry asked Danny as he presented the bottle like it was a newborn baby.

“Yes, thank you,” Danny said as he shot you a wink. You felt your body melt into the sofa cushions and prayed you’d be able to climb back out. As Mr. Henry finished pouring the second glass of wine, he turned to you one last time to make sure you felt safe. Then he turned his attention to Danny and asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you this evening, sir?”

“No, I think we are all set,” Danny said as he held what looked to be a 100 dollar bill out toward Mr. Henry.

“I cannot accept tips, sir,” Mr. Henry said as he put his hands behind his back.

“I insist,” Danny said, holding the bill out even further.

“As the manager, I am legally unable to accept tips. I do appreciate the gesture,” Mr. Henry said as he bowed to Danny. He grabbed the silver covers to the dishes and made his way to exit the room. You watched him leave and realized you were squeezing the drumsticks so tight that you were probably going to get a splinter.

“I just realized you probably eat food from here all of the time. I should have ordered us something else,” Danny said as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“No, I actually don’t. This is wonderful, thank you,” you said as you jumped up to join him near the front of the room. You held the drumsticks out to him but he held up his hand in protest. 

“Keep them,” Danny said.

“I couldn’t–” you said.

“You can pretend you caught them at the concert,” he said playfully. You held the drum sticks close to your heart as a way of showing how meaningful this gesture was. You put your newest prized-possession inside your tote bag when Danny brought you over a glass of wine. 

“Cheers to new beginnings,” he said as he lifted his glass for a toast.

“To new beginnings,” you repeated as you touched his glass to yours. You took a sip of the wine and watched his eyes linger on your face a little too long. He realized that he may have been staring and immediately cleared his throat before bringing the glass to his lips. 

You both ate and drank while enjoying the simple company of one another. Danny controlled most of the conversation but not in an arrogant sort of way. You almost felt like it was a Q&A because he was asking you so many questions about your life. You could tell he was genuinely curious about who you were, your hobbies, your family, and more. You barely had an opportunity to ask him any similar questions because he was always ready with the next question for you. However, you were curious what the other guys were up to. Were they staying in the hotel or did they go out? Were they hanging out together in another room? You didn’t want to pry but curiosity got the best of you.

“So do you guys normally spend evenings alone when on tour?” you asked as you swirled your second glass of wine around. You were thankful to have had a moment to put him in the hot seat where he had to do the answering.

“Honestly it depends on the city and how long of a break we have,” Danny said as he smoothed his palms over the top of his pants. “I think everyone just wanted some alone time tonight.”

“I get that,” you said. While others needed to be in constant contact with friends or family, you found yourself often wanting to be isolated. It probably stemmed from having a job where you were always having to interact with the public. You didn’t mind spending evenings alone, but it was nice to be in his company. Oddly enough, you were also fighting the urge not to clean the dirty dishes from the room. You had to remind yourself that you were currently there as a guest and not an employee.

“We’ll probably party tomorrow night after the show,” he said. You consciously took your time forming a response as you finished your glass of wine. On the one hand, you considered this as an invitation to spend more time with him. On the other hand, you weren’t sure if you wanted to cringe at the idea of having to clean up their mess after they left. 

“Don’t tell me you guys trash hotel rooms,” you said, covering your face.

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Danny said, grabbing your hands away from your face. You noticed he didn’t let go once he held them. You could feel the rough parts of his palms and fingertips–calluses from playing instruments. Your hands looked so small in his but you didn’t pull away. 

“I meant it when I said you’re an angel,” he said quietly.

“I got you a list of florists. That’s hardly angelic,” you said, staring at your hands in his.

“I could simply tell from your voice. I didn’t even know what you looked like. But then when you came to my door, I knew I was right,” he said as he lightly ran his thumbs over the top of your hands. 

“Do you normally call the front desk for things you could Google on your own in hopes of finding angels?” you asked playfully.

“I may have been influenced to call,” he said with a grin. Your bewildered expression caused him to laugh. “Your manager may have hinted that the girl working the front desk was a huge fan when he was escorting us to our rooms…” 

“Oh my God,” you said as you tried to pull your hands away to cover your face in embarrassment, but his hold on your hands became firm. You felt your body heat up and you weren’t sure if it was because you were embarrassed or because you felt a connection while he held your hands tighter. 

“It really is my sister’s birthday tomorrow. I really did need a florist,” he said laughing. “I just wanted to meet this huge fan for myself.” 

“I’m so embarrassed,” you said, closing your eyes. If he was going to keep you from covering your face, you figured you’d do your best to hide by not looking at him. 

“Don’t be,” he said as you felt him let go of your hands. Before you could open your eyes, you felt his fingers gingerly push a strand of hair away from your face. His touch sent waves of electricity through your body. You wanted him to put his hands all over you if that simple touch could cause such a reaction inside. You fought the temptation and used your better judgment, even though the combination of the wine and your attraction to him made it difficult to think clearly.

“It’s getting late and I have to be up early for work tomorrow,” you said as you watched the light in his eyes dim.

“Are you working tomorrow night?” he asked as if he were worried about something.

“No, no, I will be at the concert come hell or high water,” you said. “I’m bringing my outfit to work so I can change when I get off.”

“Where is your seat?” Danny asked.

“Oh, it’s not great but I’ll just be happy to be there,” you said.

“Can I get you a pit ticket?” he asked, grinning. You bit your lip to keep from smiling but the corners of your mouth gave you away. “I’ll pull a string or two to make sure I can see you from the stage.”

“That’s really not necessary, I–” you started.

“Please,” he said softly. You met his eyes and then realized he was being totally serious about wanting to watch you while he played.

“Yes, of course,” you said, not looking away from his stare as you studied his deep brown eyes. He jumped up again and went over to the dresser. You watched with curiosity as he returned back to you with a room key in his hand.

“I know you already have access to my room–wow, that sounds weird saying it aloud–but here,” he said, handing you the second key. “You can use my room to get ready in when you get off work. I have to be at the venue pretty early, so you’ll have the whole place to yourself. I’ll get a pit wristband somehow and leave it in here for you too.” The idea of not having to use the tiny breakroom to get ready for the concert was nice, but something about having one of his room keys made you feel a little nervous. “You can use it to come back to party with us after the show too,” he added. So it was an invitation earlier. 

“Are you sure? I’d feel weird being in your room when you’re not here,” you said.

“Just don’t go through my underwear. Or do, I won’t know,” he said, grinning.

Part Three

Now that you knew you were going to be up front at the concert, you started to wonder if the outfit you had planned was good enough. That being said, you had literally no other options and made the best of it. Mr. Henry was able to let you off work before 6:00 p.m., so you didn’t feel super stressed for time. You carried your outfit on its hanger and had your cosmetic bag in tow as you made your way to the elevator to get ready in Danny’s room. You still couldn’t believe he offered his personal space to you, but you were going to take advantage of the opportunity. You had an hour and a half before you had to call an Uber, so you made mental notes on where to start when you got to room 809. You scanned the key card and entered the room. Housekeeping had definitely been here because it was spotless; that is, unless Danny naturally kept his room that way. It could be a toss-up. As promised, an envelope with your name on it was sitting on top of the dresser. You put your stuff down on the couch and made your way over to open the envelope. You opened it to find not only a wristband but also a handwritten note that said:

Angel,

I can’t wait to see you tonight. 

-Danny

When you finally got to the venue, you could hear the opening act loudly from the lobby. You asked an employee where to go to get on the floor, and she directed you to the general admission entrance. You entered the pit and stood behind rows of hundreds of fans; yet, you noticed your wristband was a completely different color from theirs. Not like anyone but you would even notice. You found a clear area in the back of the pit and hung out on the side barricade, enjoying what was left of the opening act. You weren’t sure when Greta Van Fleet would go on, but you were glad that you made it with plenty of time. The openers played their last song so you knew you had a brief intermission before Danny took the stage. The simple thought of seeing him again made you feel like you were floating.

“Excuse me,” you heard a deep voice say. You turned to see a large man, who was clearly working for security, standing near you. “You can follow me,” he motioned with his hand.

“Me?” You asked.

“Yes, I’ve been looking for a bright yellow wristband all night,” he said as if he were annoyed with you. Confused, you made your way out of the back entrance and followed him along the right side of the pit. You could feel people staring at you but you tried to focus on following the large man. Even though he was three times your size, the man moved quickly. He stopped near the front section of the pit and let you in at the side, the furthest right on the barricade. You felt bad moving up to a space that was so clearly coveted by the surrounding fans. You gave the girls next to you a soft smile to which they just turned their backs to you. Lovely.

The music started to play from behind the curtains and you felt every ounce of energy in the venue radiate. After what felt like an eternity, the curtain fell and even though there were four men on stage, you were immediately drawn to Danny. You loved seeing both versions of him: The soft, kind man who had his hair pulled back in a clip yesterday and the rockstar version with rhinestones, eyeliner, and full luscious curls. You screamed as the four of them took their positions on stage to play “The Falling Sky” but your eyes were still fixed on him. As if he could sense you, he met your gaze and playfully stuck his tongue out. You felt your knees get weak and you fought to stay standing. You grabbed your phone to record bits and pieces of the concert. Every time you moved your camera on Danny, he’d go especially crazy, no doubt showing out for you. You didn’t realize it, but you were biting your bottom lip so hard that you started to feel pain. 

Once the guys started to head back toward the front from B stage, you realized why the security guard positioned you to this exact spot in the pit. You watched as Jake passed by you and felt your lungs almost give out when Danny personally handed you a white rose. Screams of fans enveloped all around you and you noticed many phones pointed at you too. 

“Holy shit, did you just get a rose from Danny?” the girl who ignored you earlier asked.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly as reality was still setting in. You continued to watch in awe of the band as they performed the last half of their setlist. Part of you wondered if they’d stick to what you knew was coming after Danny made the comment last night about them not being set in stone, but you had about all you could take. If they were to play anything else, you wouldn’t make it out of the arena alive. As long as you were buried with this white rose, maybe it’d be worth it. 

While you were watching the final song, you felt a tap on your right shoulder. You looked to see that it was the large security guard from earlier. Without a word, he motioned for you to exit and follow him. What the hell? The concert wasn’t even over yet. Not wanting to get on this man’s nerves any more than you inadvertently did, you slipped out the side of the barricade and followed him backstage. Even if he were to say something to you, the noise from the stage overpowered your senses. You couldn’t hear anything but the music. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, but you kept your rose and clear purse firmly clutched against your body. He finally stopped when he reached a small door in a dim hallway. The place kind of gave you the creeps.

“Danny asked me to get you out of there before it got too crazy,” the man finally spoke as he unlocked the door. Before you could say a word, he turned around and left you standing in the barren hallway. You entered the room and noticed a huge bouquet of daisies on the table in the middle of the room. No card, no note. His sister must have already taken it out before the concert. The local florist he chose did a beautiful job. You admired the soft petals before making your way to his vanity. You took a seat in the chair and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your subtle rhinestones in the corners of your eyes had held up surprisingly well. You took the lipgloss out of your clear purse and reapplied it when you heard the doorknob start to turn. You spun around to see Danny entering the room. His tall stature took up the entire space of the doorway. Clad in only a pair of shiny white pants, you gulped when he locked the door behind him. You admired his back muscles before he quickly turned back to face you.

“That was incredible!” you squealed as he made his way over to you.

“Yeah?” he asked like he didn’t already know. He took the rose out of your hand and stuck it in the bouquet of daisies. It looked incongruous sticking over the top of the daisies that you had to giggle. 

“As long as your sister doesn’t take my rose,” you said.

“Oh, those are yours,” Danny said, moving closer to you.

“What?” you asked.

“I may or may not have ordered two bouquets. That one is yours,” he said as he was now close enough to touch you. “You said she had good taste. I assumed they’d be your favorite flower, too,” he said sheepishly.

“Yes, they absolutely are, but–” you started to say.

“I wanted to give you a daisy tonight instead of a rose, but Josh told me no. Between you and me, I think he was just mad I was copying him to begin with,” he said with a shrug.

“Everything about tonight was absolutely perfect. I can’t thank you enough,” you said.

“The second I saw you, I immediately got nervous,” Danny said.

“Shut up,” you said while rolling your eyes.

“No, seriously. I never get nervous before a show, but seeing you made me feel like I was under pressure,” he admitted.

“You wouldn’t have felt like that if you had let me keep my seat in the nosebleeds,” you said sticking your tongue out.

“I still would have found you out of the thousands of people. You naturally glow, angel,” Danny said as he softly touched your arm. You moved your hand over the top of his and admired his rare beauty. You felt your heart race as he moved his body closer to you. Even though he already towered over you when standing next to him, now that you were sitting down, he looked even more intimidating in the best way possible. You held your breath as he seemingly removed any open space between you two. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked in the most faint of voice you almost wanted him to ask you again. As if every word you’ve ever learned escaped your brain, you nodded. He leaned down and put his soft lips against yours. You felt your body relax as his hands moved across your back, pulling you closer into an embrace. His lips pushed yours open and his musician’s fingers glided up your back until they reached your neck. You moaned as if you had never tasted anyone so sweet, so good in all your life. The noise that escaped you only seemed to ignite the fire that was already lit inside him. This kiss was becoming dangerous, and now you had a new reason why you weren’t going to make it out of the arena alive. As if he sensed the same need for caution, Danny slowly pulled away and left you wanting more.

“Now that was incredible,” he said in a voice so low you barely heard him because there was a loud, obnoxious knock at the door. You watched as he nervously situated himself to answer the door. You obviously weren’t the only one who got excitedly lost in the kiss. You watched as he took a deep breath and shook his head before opening the door. Without warning, Sammy entered the room carrying a bottle of tequila. 

“Are we partying here or taking it back to the hotel?” he loudly announced as he made his way into the room. He stopped moving when he noticed you sitting in the chair.

“Oh shit, was I interrupting something?” he asked with a nervous grin.

“No, no,” you said as you jumped down from the chair. “I was just leaving,” you said as you grabbed the vase of daisies with the tall rose sticking out the top. 

“You still have the room key?” Danny leaned in and asked you quietly.

“Yes,” you said.

“Will I see you soon then?” he asked as if he were holding on to your every word.

“Yes,” you repeated. He relaxed into a smile and rubbed your arm. 

Part Four

You called an Uber to take you home so you could put your new vase of flowers away before you Ubered back to the hotel where your car was. Before leaving the house, you stuck an extra change of clothes, your toothbrush, and a phone charger in a purse just in case you weren’t coming back home for the evening. You did have a key to a hotel room, after all. When you got to the hotel, you recognized concert-goers in the lobby based on the outfits. You blended right in with your rhinestones, glitter, and pearls. You wondered what these people would do if you revealed the band was secretly occupying the same space as them. Keeping that secret made you feel even more confident as you made your way up to room 809. 

You could hear music blaring from their end of the hallway as soon as you stepped out of the elevator. The security guard from earlier was positioned right outside the elevator doors. Like an old friend, you gave him a wave to which he ignored. He didn’t say a word to you as you walked around him. “Great talking to you again,” you said as you made your way to find where the music was coming from. Doors were propped open and you tried to ignore the safety hazards that were everywhere. You walked past rooms crowded with faces you didn’t know, scanning for the one that made your heart beat faster. Unlike the others, room 809’s door was closed. You scanned the key card and let yourself in. There you found Danny, Sammy, and another girl pouring shots. Danny called out your name as you nervously shut the door behind you. Danny introduced you to his friends when Sammy said, “We’ve already met, remember?” 

“Hi, I’m Josie,” the girl said, holding out her hand.

“This is my sister,” Danny said as he pulled Josie into a side hug.

“Oh! Happy birthday!” you exclaimed when shaking her hand.

“Thank you!” she said as she handed you a shot glass. 

“To another trip around the sun,” Sammy said as he held up his shot glass to make a toast. You touched your shot glass to theirs and threw back the liquid that burned all the way down. Trying to mask your disgust, you cleared your throat.

“Here,” Danny said, holding a can of White Claw out to you. “This will help cut the burn. Sorry, Josie insisted on us taking tequila shots for her birthday.” You took the can and was grateful for the chaser.

You panicked a little when you scanned the hotel room and noticed your stuff from earlier was nowhere to be found. Your cosmetic bag, work uniform, and shoes weren’t in the spot where you left them earlier. As if he could sense your uneasiness, Danny whispered in your ear, “Your things are in the closet.” You gave him a soft smile to show that he had read your mind perfectly.

You continued the evening party hopping from one room to the next with Danny on your arm. Every room had a different sound, vibe, and smell to it. You did your best to ignore the state laws being broken right in front of you when the boys blew smoke out into the hallway. You were a guest, remember? Not an employee. You silently prayed they wouldn’t trigger the smoke detectors, but you had a feeling they were experts at avoiding that by now. It was a surreal moment getting to hangout with your favorite band. Getting to see them on stage was one thing but getting to see them act natural in a relaxed environment was a whole different experience. 

As if the work day and concert was starting to catch up to you, you stifled a yawn that you tried to keep hidden. It was a little past 2 a.m. and the party showed no signs of stopping. Danny noticed your attempt at hiding your yawn and squeezed your shoulder before announcing to everyone in the room that he was calling it a night.

“What?” Josh yelled. “You can sleep on the bus all day tomorrow.”

“Not with your snoring,” Danny responded back. You made a mental note that Josh snores loudly. Then again, who would you have to tell that would believe you?

“It was so nice to meet all of you,” you said as you waved both hands to the dozens of people occupying the small space. Josie jumped up to give you a hug goodbye and you noticed a look you couldn’t quite pinpoint that she exchanged with her brother. You followed Danny out of the room where he took your hand and led you back to his room.

“You really didn’t have to cut the party short on my behalf,” you said as you followed him inside. 

“I can party with them every night. I want to spend more time with you,” he said.

“Well,” you said looking at the time, “you have a little under 8 hours until check out.”

“What if I request a late checkout? Do you know anyone who could pull some strings for me?” he said, pulling you into a bear hug.

“I would let you stay as long as you want, but I don’t think my say matters,” you said into his chest.

“You’d let me stay forever?” he said as his chin rested on top of your head.

“That’s certainly the latest checkout time I’ve ever heard, but I’d make it work for you,” you said. You felt him let go and you looked up to see him looking down into your eyes. He still had his concert makeup on, but then again, so did you. He quietly said your name and you felt your bones turn to jello. 

“Yes?” you responded.

“Would you like to stay the night with me?” he asked.

“What if I told you I had my toothbrush and a change of clothes already in my purse?” you answered his question with a question. His face lit up with that contagious smile. Suddenly, he picked you up and carried you to the bed. You squealed with laughter as he dropped you gently on top of the comforter. 

“Mr. Wagner, are we going to leave a trail of rhinestones in this bed?” you asked playfully as you propped yourself up on your elbows.

“I won’t mess up your makeup, angel,” he said as he stood over you.

“What if I wanted you to?” you asked with a smirk.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he said as he began to remove his clothes. You had already seen him shirtless earlier, but seeing his muscles again made you short of breath. You followed his lead and began to remove your top. He then started to take off his shoes where he held on to your legs for balance. Without removing his hands from your body, he moved his way up your thighs and lingered near the waistband of your shorts.

“May I?” he asked.

“You may,” you said, matching his tone, “such a  gentleman.” He slowly pulled your shorts down while you laid back on the bed. Danny smiled as he gazed over your matching bra and panty set–something you were mindful of when deciding what to wear tonight.

“My, my, my,” he said as he admired your body.

“I believe you’d be more comfortable out of those pants,” you said when you noticed the large bulge behind his zipper. He immediately began to unbutton his own pants and pulled them down. He now stood in front of you wearing nothing but a thin pair of boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination. You pulled your body up and moved your fingers over his chest that started to heave in anticipation. He moved closer to you and you felt his hands slowly move down your back until they met your bra. As if undoing a bra clasp was his area of expertise–and maybe it was but you didn’t want to think about that–you felt the straps fall in one swift motion. Your breasts were bare and when you met Danny’s eyes, you could see a shudder run through him. He gently pushed you back on the bed and traced his mouth over your right nipple before taking it into his mouth. You rubbed your fingers through his thick ringlets and couldn’t believe how soft they felt. 

His mouth moved from your chest as it kissed every inch of your stomach until he reached your panties. As if waiting for your permission, Danny lingered until you gave him another sign of approval by inching yourself up so he could remove your panties easier. His calloused fingertips traced your hips when he pulled your panties down, exposing the sacred part of you. “Fuck” he gritted out. You let out a giggle and wrapped your legs around his waist, moving him toward you. It looked like he stopped breathing when you pulled the waistband of his boxer briefs down and saw his large erection up close and personal. Wow. “You’re the sexiest man on the fucking planet,” you said as you gazed up at him. That was all he could handle. He climbed on top of you and you felt his hard erection rub against the top of your center where it rested on your stomach. He took you in mouthfuls at a time. His tongue parted your lips and you breathed him in. You moved your fingers back to his curls where you pulled fistfuls gently as you drew him closer. You heard him say your name as his lips moved to kiss your neck, nipping you lightly with his teeth. You arched your back and pushed your hips into him, signaling you were ready for him. Suddenly you screamed when you felt two fingers, that had once been so gentle against your skin, now sliding inside of you. “I want you so bad,” you moaned as he moved his fingers in and out of you in a rough, repeated motion. You could hear the sound of your own wetness and could only imagine what his dick would feel like inside of you. “Please,” you moaned. You weren’t one to beg, but the effect he had over you was hypnotic. You felt him slowly remove his fingers and when you looked at him, he put them inside of his mouth–not breaking eye contact. He reached inside the nightstand where he pulled out a shiny gold wrapper. You waited in anticipation as he slid the condom over himself. He returned back to your wanting body and grabbed fistfuls of your ass to pull you to the edge of the bed. You parted your thighs as an invitation for him to enter, and he slowly pushed his way inside of you. “Oh, Danny,” you moaned as you threw your head back on the bed. You felt him enter deeper, still taking his time to make sure you were ok. Your white knuckles clenched the comforter beneath you as the intense pleasure took over you completely. Now that he had made himself known, he went at you harder. You whimpered as he continued to deliver deep, hard thrusts that you hoped would never end. You couldn’t help but to scream as his primal instincts made you start to writhe beneath him.

“I’m going to cum,” you yelled as you felt your body tighten beneath him.

“Cum for me, angel,” he moaned. And as if you’d follow his every command, an orgasm shuddered through you. Your hands found his strong arms where you gripped his biceps, digging your nails into his flesh. He continued to hit deeper and you thought you were going to black out. “Oh my god,” you yelled out as you felt his hands tighten against your legs. He was at his breaking point–you felt him collapse on top of you breathing out a “holy shit” in the process. The once perfect curls that framed his face now stuck to his sweaty skin. He rolled over to lay beside you as you both struggled to catch your breath.

“Holy shit,” he repeated. You turned to face him, admiring the features of his beautiful face. You always had a soft spot for him, but the last two days have made you absolutely crazy for him. You knew this was only going to be a hookup; as much as you would love to lay next to–and especially under–this man every day for the rest of eternity, it would be impossible. You chose not to dwell on the fact that he could never be just yours, so instead you chose to enjoy the fact that you didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world at this moment.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as he studied your face. Your eyes must have given away your busy mind. You met his eyes that were once soft, then animalistic, and now concerned. 

“I’m thinking about how I wish I could be in every hotel you stay at,” you admitted. 

“You know, the tour is currently on its last leg of dates,” he said as he pushed your hair back from your face. “I’ll be free in a little over a month.” 

“You wouldn’t want to come back here during your time off,” you said, shaking your head. You knew he was only telling you things that you wanted to hear. You knew the closest you’d ever get to him again was going to be watching concert videos from tonight on your phone. 

“I would absolutely come back here. Those steak frites were incredible,” he teased. “Oh, I would come back for you too, of course.” You rolled your eyes and tried to turn away but he pulled you closer to him. He nuzzled his face into the nape of your neck. “Why do you smell like strawberries?” he said.

“My conditioner,” you laughed. 

“I love it,” he inhaled. “Use it again on November 20 when I check back into this hotel.”

“Shut up,” you said as you playfully hit his arm.

“Will you leave me rose petals on the bed?” he asked. “Is that something I can call and request before I arrive?”

“I’m sorry. That’s not a request we can accommodate, Mr. Wagner,” you said in your customer-service-voice.

“I’m sure the angel working the front desk will pull some strings for me,” he said as he squeezed you tighter.

“I’ll see what I can do,” you said as you enjoyed the moment in his embrace. He began kissing your neck and you felt goosebumps erupt all over your body. His kisses became more frequent and passionate, and you sensed he was ready to go again when you felt his dick harden against your thigh. 

“Again?” you said as both a question and an invitation.

“Good thing I have a late checkout,” he said with a smile as he pulled you on top of him.

The End

[doraminatook]

Uneasy is the Head (a fanfic)

Specifically, a Marvel fanfic.

Synopsis:

Wanda is on the run AGAIN. Following the destruction at Kamar-Taj and Mount Wundagore, she is doing her best to just remain alive in the safety of anonymity. That is until an old enemy walks back into her life with a proposition.

Words: 7,735

Rating: Teen and up

:::

Wanda knew what it was like to be on the run; if it wasn’t one form of government, it was another.  In many ways, this was nothing new to The Scarlet Witch, but the game had admittedly gotten significantly more difficult.  The longer she lived, the more enemies she seemed to amass and so with each year, her very existence became more and more precarious.  Where at first she was simply running from the corrupt politicians controlling Sokovia, now she had the added attention of the US government and the Masters of the Mystics Arts.  Of course, the latter was under the assumption that she was dead, and she wanted to keep it that way.  If they found out she had survived the collapse at Mount Wundagore, they would certainly make her death a reality.  And, truthfully, Wanda couldn’t really blame them.  

She wasn’t entirely sure what this new part of her life would look like; she’d burned so many bridges and had very few places to go.  It would have been easy for her to give into despair, and many times she did.  More than once, the pain had overtaken her again and she’d just laid down in the middle of the street, weeping uncontrollably.  Luckily, for her, Barcelona was a massive city with more displaced people than anywhere else in Europe.  When people saw a random woman lying in the streets, especially in the back alleys, they paid little attention.  Someone might attempt to rob her, but they only got as far as putting their hands on her before some strange magic came over them and they shuddered in silent pain.  The smart ones let go, but the idiots held on and soon joined Wanda on the ground.  Unlike The Scarlet Witch, however, they never got up again.  

After months of just wandering across Spain and Portugal, living off the charity of others and only occasionally stealing, Wanda had finally collected enough money to secure a tiny flat in the darkest corner of Barcelona.  It was a quiet, anonymous existence that included a part-time job as a waitress (where she went by the name Isla), trying desperately to learn Spanish as quickly as possible, and dyeing her infamous red hair a mousy brown every two weeks or so.  Once in a while Wanda would stick her neck out in order to break up a few human trafficking rings or surreptitiously send the abusive husband of her manager into a shark tank at Aquàrium Barcelona where he promptly drowned.  

Wanda had worried that Abril would be sad over the loss of her husband, as many victims of abusive relationships and Stockholm syndrome occasionally are, but time and a hefty life insurance policy in Daniel’s name proved to be good medicine for an aching heart.  Seeing her friend walk around with a newfound lease on life was almost enough to make Wanda forget…about everything.  Perhaps it was best if she did just forget; it wouldn’t have been the first time she’d attempted to leave Wanda Maximoff behind in favor of someone else: someone more normal and less complicated.  

But even if she had genuinely wanted to let it all go, the Darkhold’s stain across her hands were a constant reminder of who she was and what she had done.  She wore flesh-colored gloves whenever she was out in public and told elaborate stories about how she’d been burned in a car accident.  The gloves made her job at the diner difficult at times, but Abril and the rest of the staff had always been so courteous and accommodating towards “Isla” and her fictitious injury.  They were all so kind, and none of them had no idea what kind of monster she was.  

The only souvenir of her past life, save the blackened fingers, was a single photo: a precious relic that she only took out in her darkest of hours.  She hadn’t the foggiest idea of how, after everything, it had stayed both in one piece and in her possession, but she was grateful nonetheless.  While living on the street, Wanda had treated it like a holy grail, the single flame that kept her going merely because it reminded her of a simpler time when she had been truly happy.  Between The Blip, the Hex, and the Darkhold, it was sometimes difficult to sort out what was real and what had been magic, but the photo grounded her in many ways.  That had been real.  

It was taken in Prague: one of the many locations Steve had moved her to during Team Captain America ’s time as fugitives.  But the location was hardly the important aspect of the photo.  Yes, Charles Bridge was clearly featured in the background, but the focus was the bright-eyed and beaming Wanda with an arm wrapped around the torso of a tall, blonde-haired man who, in turn, had his willowy arm draped across her shoulder.  She was smiling winningly at the camera, held by a random stranger the pair had flagged down, but Vision’s gaze was entirely on Wanda.  It was one of those small moments one sees in movies: Vision sneaking an adoring look at the woman he loved.  To Wanda, they had just been posing beside some pretty bridge, but the man beside her had no interest in architecture.  The most beautiful thing in the world was Wanda, and he was unable to look away.  

Today, she needed to see the picture.  The night before had been plagued with the same old terrible nightmares and specters, and Wanda’s mental health necessitated a trip down memory lane.  She pulled open the drawer on her nightstand and dug a bit until she found the worn manilla envelope that served as the photo’s home.  She sighed with relief as she took in the image and ran a finger adoringly over Vision’s face.  It wasn’t just the fact that the print featured him but also that Wanda could clearly see the unaltered happiness in herself.  It all seemed like several lifetimes ago.  

This lifetime, however, would not wait.  She glanced at the clock on the wall and knew she had to go; Isla had work and Wanda had to be put aside for now.  

:::

Want to read more? Check out my Archive of Our Own page at the link below

[ghostofskywalker]

Closer Than Expected

Dieter Bravo/Fem!Reader

Words: 1,946

Summary: When a mistake at the hotel leaves you without a room for the evening, you're forced to swallow your pride and ask your boss if you can stay in his. What you don't expect is to end up sharing a bed with him.

Warnings: a sexual joke and one drug reference

Note: this is written for @pedrostories 1k followers celebration! i chose the prompts "i can't believe you just said that" and one bed :) the challenge is open until august 15th of this year, and you can check out the prompts here!

Dieter Bravo Masterlist

You were too nice, and now it was biting you in the ass.

If you were just a little more fearless, you might have returned to the front desk of the hotel and tried to push the staff to come up with a solution to your issue. And if you were successful, it meant that you would not have to sleep in the same room as your boss tonight. You would have done it politely and gently (because you knew they didn’t get paid enough, and frankly, neither did you), but you at least might have been able to get a room of your own. Instead, your only chance at having somewhere to stay was to take a deep breath and knock on the door to his hotel room, hoping that he would let you camp out on his chair or something.

The sound of bubblegum pop music filled the air as the door opened, and you stared at Dieter Bravo with what you hoped was a neutral expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked suddenly. “Don’t tell me I’m getting kicked out of the hotel.”

“No, but I might be,” you said.

“Damn, did you fight the bellhop or something?”

“No,” you huffed. You should have known he would find this funny. “But there was a mix up on our reservations and now the only room available is this one. I was hoping you’d allow me to camp on your chair for the night, and they said they could have a room for me tomorrow.”

This was so unprofessional, you thought, cringing internally as you spoke. Dieter wasn’t someone who always played by the rules, and he had never once made you uncomfortable in the entire time that you had worked for him as his assistant, but this was still a step that you didn’t like to take. You were always someone who wanted to prove to the world that you could do things yourself, and asking a favor of the man who pays you because of a mixup outside your control didn’t really fit into that vision.

“Of course you can stay here,” Dieter said, waving you inside as he stepped out of the way. “I don’t have a comfortable chair though.”

“That’s fine,” you said, a tentative air to your voice. “We can just call down and see if they’ll give us a cot or something.”

Dieter’s room was nice, but you found it a bit odd that there was no couch or armchair. But then again, you were here for the Academy Awards, and there were much higher-profile people currently in this hotel, so the places where Dieter might have gotten some special treatment before was now reserved for the likes of the A+ list presences that had also come to town for the award show tomorrow.

You placed your suitcase next to the desk and put down your messenger bag on the stiff plastic chair there. There was no way you would be able to fall asleep on that thing, so you really hoped that some other solution would present itself.

Dieter thankfully turned off the music so you could contact the front desk (Maybe it was because you knew he kept his slightly embarrassing music taste to himself, but you were still grateful). You were also grateful that he was allowing you to be here, even if you had nowhere else to go. It would be about three years next month since you started working for him, and although the two of you had a very strong professional relationship, but your personal one had never really progressed past “tentative friend,” mostly by your choice. He was really attractive, and you could see yourself falling for him if you weren’t careful.

And sure, now you’ve seen Dieter Bravo at his absolute lowest, and you knew that he was an absolute baby when he got sick, but you’ve also seen the way he cares about others and the things he tries to hide. You knew that he makes sure to stock all the snacks you like in his home for the days you spend the day there (usually when some kind of big thing was happening in his life), and you also knew that he sings in the shower when he thinks no one else is around. The media may have labeled him as this tough no-nonsense actor who might bite your head off and then get high two seconds later, but you knew the truth, that he wasn’t like that. Well, except for the drugs (he really did have a problem).

By the time you had gotten off the phone with the reception desk, you wanted to bang your head against the wall. “That bad, huh?”

A tired sigh left your mouth in response. “They don’t have a cot to spare. Apparently some director is having an orgy and that’s where they all went.”

Dieter’s mouth dropped open. “Damn, they told you that? And how can I score an invite?”

“It was heavily implied,” you said, choosing to ignore the second question he posed. “All I know is that now I have to sleep in that uncomfortable chair over there and I don’t know how I’m going to get any rest.”

“No, you need your beauty sleep,” he said, and then his face lit up with realization. “Why don’t you just share my bed for the night?”

Now it was your turn to look shocked. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What?” he asked. “It’s not like you haven’t slept over my house before, and I think I’ve known you long enough to be granted permission to see you in your pajamas.”

“That’s different! We slept in separate rooms when I stayed over your house.”

“Come on, it’s really not that big of a deal. The bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

You sputtered slightly before replying, trying to avoid the decidedly unhelpful image your brain was currently providing (of you and Dieter cuddling in morning light). “It’s still unprofessional!”

“Fine, then I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said.

“You can’t do that! You’re going to the Oscars tomorrow!”

“Well it’s either that or we share, because you’ll be sleeping in that bed tonight babe.”

“Fine, we can share,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just… never call me babe again. It’s weird.” No it wasn’t, you just didn’t want to deal with the way your heart fluttered as he said it.

***

That little pet name couldn’t hold a candle to the weirdness of actually laying in bed that night, knowing that Dieter was less than two feet away and laying under the same blanket. Your only saving grace was the fact that you were much too tired from the travel and the other issues of the day to deal with the worry in your brain, and you fell asleep rather quickly (these hotels did spring for the high-quality pillows after all).

But of course it only delayed the inevitable fate of waking up the next morning. Light filtered through the blinds, and you blinked your eyes open to realize that something was different now, compared to the way you fell asleep last night. The shock set in barely seconds after that.

There was an arm over your abdomen, and Dieter was holding you against him.

You craned your head to look at the clock, and it said quarter to six. It was still early, maybe you could wriggle your way out of his grasp and push him back towards his side of the bed. He had fallen asleep on set enough times for you to know that he slept like the dead, and you hoped that you had a good few hours before he would be actually awake. But just as you started to formulate a plan, you heard a yawn from behind you.

It was an involuntary response, the way you gasped and pulled away, which ultimately led to you tumbling off the bed, narrowly missing the nightstand with your head. You laid there on the ground and stared up at the ceiling, wondering how you could play this off now that you’ve given yourself away.

“Wow,” Dieter said, face appearing as he looked at you off the side of the bed. “I’m really that bad of a cuddler, huh?”

“No, it’s not that,” you said, standing up to face him as he sat on the bed.

“Then what is it? Because I thought everything was fine, and you throw yourself off the bed to get away from me. It can really put a dent in a man’s ego you know.”

“You don’t find this odd?” The words left your mouth before you could really pull them back, and you knew that you had opened up a can of worms as you got up and looked at Dieter.

“What are you talking about?”

“This,” you said, gesturing between you and him. “It’s unprofessional, I’m not supposed to be close to you like this.”

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable-”

But you cut him off. “No, it’s not that. But I’m your assistant, and you know how fast word spreads around here. I know you may not mean anything, but if this ever got out? We-”

Now it was his turn to cut you off. “What do you mean that you know I don’t mean anything?”

“Come on, you know. You go around making eyes at half of your costars on every movie, you flirt with all the waiters and waitresses you’ve ever had, and not to mention the way you practically propositioned your makeup artist on this last movie, remember? I know that this is your nature, but I don’t want to let myself believe that anything you tell me is true. It’ll keep me safe in the long run.”

“Is that really how you see me?” he asked, voice quiet. “As someone who will do nothing but break your heart?” You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept talking. “I flirt with people because it’s fun, like a drug. But I’ve never once flirted with you, because I know you’re too good for me, and no matter what I feel for you, I know you don’t feel the same way for me.”

“Dieter-”

“No, please let me finish,” he said, getting off the bed to stand right in front of you. You didn’t look down, but you felt him take your hand in his. “If you do have the same feelings for me, then I really want to give this a shot. If you don’t, that’s fine, and we can go back to the way things were. What do you say?”

Maybe it was the fact that this entire exchange was happening at the crack of dawn, but you lost control for a moment and did something that a more rational version of yourself would be shocked to see.

You leaned in and kissed him.

His lips molded to yours perfectly, and within seconds you could feel his hand leave yours, only to find a more permanent home on your waist. The kiss was needy and soft, gentle and passionate all at once, and you never wanted the moment to end.

“Was that a yes to giving this a shot?” he asked, just barely pulling away.

“Of course you idiot,” you whispered, smiling as his lips once again landed on yours.

“Good,” was his response. “Because it’s way too early to be thinking about anything, and we’re going back to sleep.”

This time, when you laid down and felt his arms wrap around you, there was not a single bone in your body that wanted to pull away. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[byuljoonie]

6 inch (heels) // jhs

She murdered everybody and I was her witness.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: one shot, angst, fluff, yearning, growing tension, friends to lovers, slight smut

word count: 4K+

warnings: mentions of mature topics, recreational dr!g use, mar!juana, cigarettes, club scene/celeb party, cunnilingus, dry humping bcs desperate, fingers ( in a few ways…), dom!sub, dom hoseok!sub reader, alcohol consumption, probably a good amount of swearing, and the most important warning of all: JITB era hoseok.

summary: your best friend convinces you to attend a launch party, without mentioning the presence of a certain someone. Inspired by the song 6 Inch from Beyoncé’s Lemonade.

note: I really don’t know how long this will end up but hoseok is going away soon and this is me coping. being delusional is the best way. we know namjoon is my soulmate but hobi…actually I’ll be quiet. sorry if this is too raunchy for you, I got some fluff coming soon. sorry for any errors, I suck sometimes. I hope you like it feel free to leave comments and asks. playlists in bio🫶🏾

“Y/N just give it a chance. You’ll never get out if you don’t actively try,” she pleaded. Here I am, still in bed reading the same book while listening to my best friend attempt to persuade me to leave the house. I know she’s right but I’d rather choke than admit how much I want to go. The thought of complimentary champagne and weed was the only thing lingering in my mind. Well, not the only thing but I’d rather not talk about him.

“I can see that sparkle of longing in your eye and I promise he won’t be there!” Aniase exclaimed dramatically. I almost missed the Cheshire grin that slipped past her lips. “I am not even thinking about him, I just have nothing to wear,” I said beaming with trepidation. I can’t put anything past her I don’t know why I even try. “The launch starts at 8, I’ll hang your dress on the door at 6,” she explained letting out a breviloquent sigh. I glanced at the white clock on my nightstand, zoning out slightly as the iridescent 4:46 swirled into unrecognizable shapes. I turned around to see Aniase walk out quietly shoulders heavy with burden.

I closed my long-forgotten novel and flopped my head into my pillow in despair. I don’t need everyone thinking they constantly have to babysit me. I know they only want what's best for me, but sometimes what's best for me is just me. The comfort in knowing I can’t get hurt right now is enough to appease my unstable emotions even if it means coincidentally being busy during events he could possibly attend. As much as I want to rot away in bed, my perspicacious ability warns me. Aniase’s intransigent attitude flashed through my mind.

I lept from my bed as the clock read 5:30, I’ve spent too much time moping about. I rush to my bathroom searching for my makeup bag catching a glance of myself in the mirror bringing me to a halt. Bags adorned my tired eyes, a stain-riddled t-shirt hung loose around my torso, all while a giant hair clip he gifted me held back my messy hair. Seems as if evening passing he’s somehow invading my everyday life.

“Hoseok. Jung Hoseok,” his name appeared suddenly in my mind. I don’t think Aniase is telling the truth about him coming to the launch but on the slight hope that he does, I can’t look like this! I’m a wreck and all because of a man whose smile can light up an entire universe. I’m so utterly in love with him that everything feels unfeasible without him. A radiant star even the moon smiles back when he bids a greeting, our first encounter on boundless repeat.

In my first year of graduate school, I received a paid internship from HYBE as a library assistant. I would run errands for the librarian, sort catalogs for upcoming meetings, assist in presentations, and my favorite help HYBE staff find the right read. I’ve always been a diffident individual, preferring to work or compete alone. Books and writing were my best friends, besides Aniase of course. Haruki Murakami is my favorite author, when a certain Kim Namjoon sauntered in with a bright Hoseok in tail looking for his newest release I was ecstatic, to say the least. Combating the harshness of reality while completing a Ph.D. is enough in itself, but combine it with continual yearning and you’re done.

“Hey Y/N! You already know what I’m here for,” Namjoon said cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear at me. “I sure do and I hate to say it but I may have read the first chapter already…” I trailed off with a guilt-filled expression. Namjoons boisterous laugh filled our ears as he grabbed the book from my waiting hand. “I knew you couldn’t wait! You’re such a sly fox and for what?” he playfully questioned with a raised eyebrow. “I can’t help but be myself,” I smirked, “also it’s just as profound as we thought.” I shot back gleefully. I glanced over at Hoseok suddenly getting chills when our eyes connected. His fluffy, black hair styled gracefully on his forehead, tan skin illuminated in the library spotlights. His expression of curiosity only peaking my interest further. He wore loose washed-out blue jeans and a short-sleeved black sweater with a single white strip near the neck and arms.

Namjoon stood knowingly glancing between us. He shook his head in disbelief at the awkward staring contest we were having. “Ah hyung this is Y/N,” Namjoon said signaling to me cautiously. He knew how hard it was for me to introduce myself to anyone. I’d grown close to the patient leader during my first few weeks at HYBE. He frequented the library even advocating for its renovation and new employment. I’ve spent countless nights with him arguing over our next read or what guitar riff is better in a song. He’s another constant in my life I will forever be grateful for.

I raise my hand in return as Hoseok reaches for it across my desk. “It’s nice to finally meet you Y/N I’ve heard so much about you, you can call me Hoseok or J.” he beamed. His delicate hand lingered in mine for a second too long, I watched as his golden bracelet slid down his wrist. “Likewise,” I stuttered out embarrassingly quietly. Namjoon could have sworn he saw sparks fly when my manicured hand slipped into Hoseoks.

“Y/N it’s time for your lunch break, take an hour and a half we have to stay late tonight.” The librarian said in passing with her lunch bag in hand. Before I could respond she was already near the door, exiting without another word. I let out a sigh of dread and started to say my goodbyes. “Y/N why don’t you join us for lunch, seems like you have some free time today,” Namjoon said looking at Hoseok. I went to shake my head no until I saw Hoseok waiting for an answer. “You know what, sure can we get tteokbokki please?” I asked fluttering my eyelashes at Namjoon knowing he’ll break. “Of course, hyung’s buying let’s go!” he said playfully rolling his eyes at me.

I snap out of my reverie grabbing my makeup bag from under my cabinet. I slip into the first pair of matching undergarments I find, not having time to waste. I don’t know what color dress Aniase bought me so I settled on a black smoky eye with cat eyeliner and a glossy lip. I made a scornful face at my reflection when suddenly loud knocking fills my bedroom. “Open up I have your dress and you’re going, I won’t take no for an answer-” Aniase halts in the middle of her sentence as she takes in my appearance.

“You look so fucking good oh my gosh!” she yells pushing past me into my room, the small black fabric in her hand catching my eye. I turned around wide-eyed as she smiles at me holding it up. “Is that-” I start to get teary-eyed as she passed me the dress I’ve been wanting for months. It’s this simple black Calvin Klein dress I saw on a runway with Hoseok months ago. It was a slightly above-the-knee body con with velvet black straps. I’d been telling them how much I’d fallen in love with it and that I needed to have it one day. “Yes it is, I love you and no one deserves it more than you,” she said closing the space between us and pulling me in for a tight hug.

“To be completely honest with you I also got the dress because I knew you had the perfect pair of shoes to match,” she admitted looking directly at the shoes in my open closet. “I fucking knew you were up to something, I’ll wear the shoes if you go roll a joint right now,” I said pushing past her with a frustrated huff, grabbing the sleek white box from the closet floor. “You got it, boss,” she said laughing as she walked out of my room. I crossed my room and set the shoe box on my bed. I slipped into the dress, taking a few minutes to admire my figure in the mirror. I glanced at the clock that now read 6:46. I put on a small silver cross necklace my parents gifted me for getting into grad school, I can’t believe I’m already halfway through my last year.

I opened the shoe box on my bed and gasped at how beautiful the shoes were. Hoseok gifted me a pair of 6-inch black Versace Medusa Aevitas, but instead of the usual golden charm he custom-made a silver sun and moon charm. One on each shoe, coinciding to make a gorgeous pair of heels. I never had the chance to wear them until now. I slipped them on and took a quick picture of myself in the mirror. Feeling my reflection come alive and ignite with a passion akin to madness. I felt irresistible and I needed someone to see.

I don’t know what came over me but in a flash I grabbed my phone, angling myself in a provocative pose in the mirror. I snapped the picture trying to come up with a clever caption to send Namjoon. “Hey Siri, play 6 Inch by Beyonce.” I typed out laughing at my cringe idea. I didn’t have time to react before I instantly got a notification.

Hobi ddaeng: “Wow..you look stunning baby.”

My eyes widened in horror as I read the recipient's name. I audibly screamed and I looked down in shock. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how I feel right now. I meant to send that to Namjoon I’m royally fucked. I have a plethora of questions but the main one being why did he respond so fast? I couldn’t stomach a response right now, I called Aniase into my room telling her I’m ready to smoke. My mind stayed fixated on Hoseoks' message through the night's progression. Aniase stared at me puzzled at my sudden mood change. “Is this because I made you wear the shoes?” she probed and passed me the joint. “No.” I simply stated, inhaling the plant to calm down.

At 7:50 I call a taxi to the apartment and we begin our 30-minute commute to the event center. I cross my legs hastily hoping the taxi driver didn’t get a peak under my short dress. His taxi smelled of cigarettes but he appears to be a nice middle-aged man. An email notification from my phone penetrates the stale air, making me jump slightly. The first thing I see is my professor's name and I audibly groan. “I’m so freaking tired of talking to my prof about my dissertation!” I exclaimed crossing my arms over my chest. Aniase laughed and didn’t spare me a second glance from her phone. “I thought Joon was helping you with that? Quit complaining and start worrying about the real problem!” she said. “Which is?” I questioned confused at her aimless outburst. “Your sex life,” she stated dryly looking up and laughing at the look of disgust on my face.

“You’re so gross just shut up please,” I begged while slapping her knee in embarrassment. I looked up noticing the taxi driver holding back laughter. I was quiet the rest of the ride and my nerves only grew worse. When we arrive at the building our driver opens the door for both of us and we are ushered inside by 2 security officers. As we walk through the labyrinth, the fluorescent office lights start to make me dizzy. I steady myself and give Aniase a look of reassurance.

“Here you go ladies, enjoy,” one of the tall officers says. He combs his hands through his gelled black hair and holds the door open. Aniase thanks, them as we cross the threshold into a sea of blinding lights. Blue, red, neons, and purple all flickered through the black-lit room. “Everything’s going to be alright Y/N, we can leave whenever you’re ready. Let’s go get a drink,” Aniase said pulling me through the small forming crowd on the dance floor. We spot the white-clothed table filled with champagne flutes and jello shots. “Isn’t this a clothing launch, it almost feels like a frat party,” I thought to myself. She handed me a glass of champagne and we downed it with solid cheers. This was Don Perigon 88, it tasted like heaven on the tongue and eased my nerves.

“Hey Aniase, Y/N!” a familiar voice echoed from the crowd. Kim Seokjin emerged from the crowd beaming at Aniase. I almost gagged when she sent a flirtatious wink in his direction. He grabbed her by the waist and gave her a bear hug. Sweeping her off of her feet because of their conflicting height difference. He then put her down and gave me a quick hug and lame pat on the back. “You suck Jin why don’t you two just fuck already?” I questioned causing him to turn red. “Hey you’re one to talk Ms.Jung,” Aniase struck back with funny intensity. “Fine, you win!” I said raising my hands in defeat. “Y/N about that…I’m going to steal Aniase for a while see you!” Seokjin said grabbing her hand and running before I could protest.

I grabbed another glass of champagne and walked slowly to a corner of the room. I can’t believe he just took her like that and she didn’t protest! I’m going to fight her later, she promised not to leave me. I nursed my glass for 20 minutes before receiving a text from Namjoon. Starting to feel the drinks I respond slowly.

Joonie Bear: “Are you going to the launch party Y/N/N?”

I nodded at my phone realizing he couldn’t see me. I held up my empty glass beside my face and took a quick selfie for him. Hoping he’d tell me he’s on his way or he invites me over. I received another notification while I’m thinking about leaving and going to get drunk with Namjoon.

Joonie Bear: *heart eyes* Great

I respond quickly this time, asking if he’s coming to the launch. Disappointed at his response and lack of enthusiasm, I wait 10 more minutes before I leave my spot. He left me on read and I am thoroughly pissed, 2 of my friends bailed on me while I’m tipsy and alone. I strut towards the drink table bumping into someone along the way. I down 2 more glasses and tipsily head to the restrooms. I needed to loosen up and I know just how.

I burst through the large door stumbling towards the countertop and clinging on. I grab my pen out of my purse and take a long pull, a euphoric rush of calmness invading me. I look up to see a blurred reflection in the large mirror. My eyes hung seductively low as the alcohol coursed through me. I could feel myself growing hotter as if a certain assailant was caressing my body. Flashbacks of his hands on my neck ravaged my mind. It’s never gone far enough with Hoseok and I need him.

Loud music starts blaring through the speaker to catch the attention of the guests. I check the time on my phone, it reads 9:00 pm adorning my wallpaper of Namjoon and me at a restaurant. I lingered in the restroom for an unprecedented amount of minutes, techno-pop music blasting through high-definition speakers as models walked on a stand-in runway. My heart is suffering with every beat, I have to leave. After I hear someone announce that the runway walk is over I check myself one last time and walk out.

Like the devil himself making a special appearance, I lock eyes with Jung Hoseok as I exit the restrooms. With the rhythm of the music matching my heart's beat, he smirks at me in surprise. I nod at him and run to look for Aniase. I can’t believe I just avoided him to his face, where the fuck is Aniase? “6-inch heels, she walks in the club like nobody's business. Goddamn, she murdered everybody and I was her witness…” Beyonce sings on as the hard bass palpitates through my eardrums.

I look over my shoulder in disbelief as Hoseok maneuvers his way through the crowd, gravitating toward me. I spare him a knowing look, beckoning him to follow me. I finally break out of the crowd leaving through the door behind the Dj booth. I walk down a long hallway and glance over my shoulder to make sure Hoseok is following me. A second later he bursts through the door eyeing me hungrily like well-marinated prey.

I make a right down the hallway and enter the first door I see. I blink rapidly as my eyes adjust to the bright dressing room light, being accustomed to the dark room making me overly sensitive. I notice a blue couch on the opposite side of the room facing the door, I hurry to take a seat because my legs feel numb. I grow more nervous with every passing second that I’m alone. Hoseok cautiously opens the door letting out a sigh of relief as we made eye contact. I took in his presence and outfit as he closed the space between us.

He wore a low-cut black top with baggy blue ripped jeans and a matching jean jacket. Luxury brand pins adorned his jacket and rings rested comfortably on his nimble fingers. He stared at me through his black cat eye shades, the brand matching the shoes I’m wearing. He set his glass of champagne on the small table next to me, not breaking eye contact as he invaded my space. Hoseok stares down into my eyes causing me to grow wetter with his every action. He takes off his sunglasses setting them in his jacket pocket before he finally breaks the silence.

“I feel like I’ve been chasing you all night,” he said lowly taking my hand in his and pulling me up. He spun me around and sat down in my spot, leaving me standing idle in front of him. He took in the sight of my outfit, eyeing my heels curiously. “Finally got you to wear them huh? Let me see you walk again doll,” He commanded nicely. I nodded and began walking away from him, smoothing my dress down in the front before turning swiftly on my heel and stopping. My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I watched Hoseok palm himself through his jeans. I could feel the heat between my legs growing embarrassingly persistent. I nearly moaned at the sight of him, his skin glowing like a fallen angel.

“Come here baby,” he growled and I sprung into action, quickly closing the space between us sitting on his lap with my thighs sprawled on either side trapping him. I brace myself by placing my head on his chest, feeling his heart palpitate with mine. Hoseok then gently grabbed my face bringing it up to his, “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time Y/N knowing you’ll come back to me,” he started while staring into my attentive eyes. “I think about you day and night, those gorgeous eyes, the last time I felt your soft hands, the way your lips felt around my-” he said ceasing because of my urgency to kiss him.

He was completely magnetic, the silkiness of his deep voice sending me into oblivion. I sighed against his lips irrevocably getting a taste of something I will never again relinquish. I felt his hands travel down the back of my dress, roughly grabbing my ass under my dress. The taste of his lips intoxicated me and dragged me deeper into my addiction. The mix of alcohol, drugs, and Hoseok was enough to make me feel weak. He pressed my body against his with unpalpable desire, pulling away to let us catch our breath.

He grabbed my hips guiding me to rest on his right thigh. “I meant what I said Y/N, I can’t let you go..” he trailed off breathlessly. Though our self-control has already failed us tonight, I saw a flicker of something sinister in his eyes. He grabbed my hands which lay idle on his chest and place them on his shoulders, he then pulls up my dress to make my movement more accessible. “You know what I want doll, ride my thigh like the desperate slut that you are,” he commanded voice permeated with lust. My breathing grew shallow as he picked up his glass from the table and took a sip, “go ahead now,” he deadpanned motioning for me to start. Placing his drink down, he captured the straps of my dress and slowly slid them down, making me remove my hands from his shoulders and let the straps fall. He then grabbed the front of my dress yanking it down, to stare at my chest with lustful eyes.

The air was heavy, my skin damp and feverish being exposed to him. The cold air caused my nipples to harden, he sensed my aching need and started massaging at the supple mounds. Mindlessly groaning as I start to slowly move. I ground myself on the denim fabric and whimpered at the sweet pressure on my clit, my panties only adding to the friction. I couldn’t last long, I craved him for so long the need to consummate our relationship consumed me.

No amount of masturbating or toys could make me drunk with lust the way Jung Hosoek does. He was as addictive as any gateway drug, as mesmerizing as a siren's song. I could feel my orgasm growing closer, desperately moaning for him to take me. I continued to circle my hips on his thigh, biting my already swollen lips to muffle my needy noises. “Don’t be quiet now Y/N, ride my thigh just like that. Tell me how bad you need me,” he said continuing his devilish assault on my clothed center.

“Talk to me baby, I don’t care who hears,” he growled grabbing a fistful of my hair and exposing my sensitive neck to him. He starts leaving sloppy, wet kisses up my neck until he reached just behind my ear. Earning a loud groan from me as he leaves a harsh love mark behind. Stars fill my view as my orgasm reaches its climax. Hoseok then abruptly stands up, placing me to the right of him on the couch.

“I’m sorry doll, you’re not cumming tonight until I’m inside you,” he states plainly as if this esoteric action is commonly known. I whine in displeasure as my orgasm blindly fades into nothing, my body still tingling with fervor. “Ya-” I began to whine and was forcefully stopped when Hoseok stuck two fingers in my mouth. “Oh now you want to talk,” he said smirking as I proceeded to suck on his pointer and middle fingers. I lean back on the couch, melting into a mess of libido and yearning. “Good girl, you look like an absolute sin right now.” he gushed as he pulled out his phone from his back pocket.

He angled his camera above me and snapped a picture, staring at his phone in awe for a second. He then pulled his fingers from my mouth and ran them down my front until he reached the top of my panties. “You want me here right pet?” he teased maniacally, making me whimper pathetically. “Use your fucking words Y/N or I won’t touch you,” he commanded taking my throat in his hand and giving it a light but serious squeeze.

“Please touch me, sir, I need you to fuck me so bad,” I cried out defeated and horny. “You know I love when you call me that doll,” he said while aggressively yanking my panties down. He then shoved them in his back pocket and gave me a sly wink. He spared me one last look before he dove in. He starts feverishly lapping his tongue at my pussy, consuming me like his last meal. I scream out in pleasure as he grinds his tongue inside me, slurping and giving off the dirtiest sounds I’ve ever heard. One of his hands snakes its way up gripping my right breast and massaging in torturously slow circles. I’m almost at my climax, rhythmically riding his tongue when my phone loudly interrupts our session of perversion.

A familiar ringtone fills the room but that doesn’t stop Hoseoks wanted assault on my body. He continues indulging in the sweet sounds that I emit all at his leisure. My phone stops ringing earning a sigh of relief from Hoseok, sending a vibrational wave through my core. It starts again causing me to groan in annoyance, grabbing my phone from my discarded bag somewhere on the couch. I push his head away trying to pry him away from me, but he grips my thighs harder and hungrily laps at my pussy. I yelp in surprise moaning at the sudden pressure increase.

“Ho-Hobi she called twice, it has to be important,” I stutter out still trying to push his head away, tears slipping from my eyes as he stares into them. It feels so divine, but I aggressively answer the phone anyway. “Y- Y/N,” Aniase gurgles out, I could hear the drunken stupor in her voice. “Can we go home please, I don’t feel so good,” she slurred, “Hey! Y/N it’s Jin, Aniase may have taken a few too many shots,” he confessed nervously into the phone. I gave Hoseok a concerned look and his brows furrowed in confusion as he pulled away. “Seokjin you know she can’t drink that much, why the fuck would you let her.” I seethed into the phone, pulling my dress straps back over my shoulders. Hoseok rose from the floor and plopped on the couch next to me, mouth glistening with bright eyes. “I’m sorry I can’t help but do what she says, I love her..” he gushed at the end causing me to gag into the phone. “Whatever Jin, both of you better be waiting for me when I make it outside the main room door.” I passively said on the phone. I ended the call and stood up to fix my dress. Hosoek reaches for my hand pulling me back down to his lap.

“Trouble with the old married couple?” he playfully questioned igniting an uproar of laughter from both of us. I nodded and told him that I need to leave, standing up again and stuffing my phone in my purse. I turned to leave and Hoseok quickly stood up capturing me by my waist from behind. He let his right hand slowly trail up my body and stop on my neck, “don’t think I would let you get away that easily dollface.” he threatened squeezing my neck once more. “After you get home and settled, I’ll be downstairs waiting for you Y/N,” he promised, letting go of my neck with a chaste kiss.

I turned around and kissed him one last time before I departed the room. I run to a nearby restroom hoping I don’t get lost on the way back to the main room. I grow wide-eyed at my reflection in the mirror, my hair was a mess, my eyeliner is smeared from crying, my pupils are blown, and lastly 2 prominent marks decorate my neck. I try to make my hair as presentable as I can, removing my eyeliner smudges, and putting in clear eyedrops for my bloodshot eyes. Once I’m decent I stammer out of the restroom almost falling in my heels, again.

As I’m making my way down the hallway mindlessly thinking of Hoseok I can hear Beyonce’s voice echo through my mind. “You’ll always come back to me…” she sings dreamily causing me to a halt. His face projected in my mind once more, bringing a small smile to my lips. I walk through the Dj door, slipping past everyone before someone stopped to question my whereabouts. I burst through the main room entrance seeing Seokjin stroke Aniase’s hair as she rests her head on his chest.

“Where the hell have you been Y/N Belgium!?” he said frowning at me. “Nowhere I got sick on the walk back sorry, come on Aniase let’s go,” I said apologetically walking up and taking her hand. She drunkenly said her goodbyes to her boyfriend, and we walked outside to the driver Seokjin had ready for us. The drive back to our apartment felt like an eternity.

I woke up Aniase on arrival and help her up to our place, thank god for the elevators because our last apartment was a death trap accompanied by stairs. Aniase protests me putting her to bed, becoming inquisitive about where I was the entire night. After fighting her to put her pajamas on she finally gave in and fell asleep on my bed.

I haven’t received a text from Hoseok yet and I’m starting to think he’s not coming, or worse he’s changed his mind. My heart aches for a second, letting the somnolent atmosphere creep in before it's all ripped away with the sound of a text notification. I smile in my bathroom mirror as I finish retouching my makeup. I leave Aniase a note on my bedside table with 2 Tylenol and a coupon for a breakfast delivery service. I check my phone as I walk towards our apartment door, the text from him sending a shiver down my spine. I race to the elevators with my overnight bag in tow and a cheesy grin on my face.

My sunshine: I’m downstairs dollface come on, I have some joints already rolled ;)

THE END

[girl-next-door-writes]

I've Gotta Go Away

Characters: Steven Grant x Reader

Summary: Just a cozy Christmassy date with the lovely Steven Grant.

Word Count: 1068 words

Prompt: #2: Drinking hot cocoa in a small café

The darkness was punctuated by the flurries of white that danced within the harsh winter breeze, illuminated by the streetlamps and shop windows creating a strange and mystical ballet which nobody paid attention to. People on the street scurried by, heads down and collars pulled up against the elements, eager to finally find a respite from the frightful weather. Pavements became damp slush with banks of murky snow lining the edges, preparing themselves to freeze overnight and prove hazardous to any early morning pedestrians.

From the warmth of his seat, Steven stared out at the snowflakes creating intricate patterns on their way to the ground. His damp coat and scarf hung on the back of the wooden stool, the smell of wet cloth covered by the aroma of coffee from the counter and vanilla from the various reed diffusers strategically placed around the shop. It all mingled with a hint of pine, which was strange as the overly decorated tree in the corner with the soft twinkling lights was entirely made of plastic. Perhaps that was one of the mysteries of Christmas, how just the image of a tree could conjure up the familiar smell, like a sense memory. 

His hands were wrapped around a half full mug of hot chocolate, tiny marshmallows, half melted, bobbed around on the surface happily. Steven had placed them there himself. He always felt a little awkward asking if the marshmallows were vegan whenever he went to a coffee shop, not wanting to put anyone out or make things difficult. He definitely didn’t want to be one of ‘those’ vegans and they had already been so kind to make his drink with almond milk. Instead, he had taken to carrying around a small pack of marshmallows on the off chance he might want a sugar hit.

He had managed to snag one of his favourite seats, sat at the high bench in the window. It was ideal for people watching, but as the sky grew darker the glass changed from a window to more of a mirror. He could see the twinkle of the fairy lights over by the counter, the flicker of the candle on the table in front of him was twinned, and then there was his own reflection staring back at him. Steven had to admit that he looked tired, and quickly shifted his gaze, uncomfortable with the look he was giving himself.

“You sure you don’t want a top up?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts as you returned to your seat beside him.

“No, thanks love. I’ve got half a cup still left.” He gave you a soft smile, still not quite believing that you were really here with him.

The two of you had been trying to meet up for a few days now, and he had resigned himself to yet another year of almosts and near misses. You had not been so ready to give up on the Christmas miracle yet though, and he had been pleasantly surprised when he looked up from the gift shop counter and saw you standing there. Turned out, you had managed to get the afternoon off work and wondered if he wanted to go for a drink when he’d finished. Of course, he had immediately agreed and the end of his shift couldn’t have come soon enough.

That had been three hours ago, and neither of you showed any signs of leaving yet. Steven had even been looking for any indication that you might, that he was boring you or you had realized you’d made a terrible mistake, but there had been none. In fact, you seemed to be enjoying yourself as much as he was. The conversation was easy, although Steven did find himself nervously stuttering over a few words every now and again. The butterflies in his stomach had calmed somewhat. There was still a nervous energy, but the anxiety that had laced that feeling had dissipated.

Time seemed to fly by, and before he knew it the staff were indicating that they wanted to close up for the night. Checking his watch, his eyes widened when he saw the time.

“Oh, I am so sorry for keeping you so late! How are you getting home? Will there still be a bus running?” He looked at you with such concern, feeling that he had somehow made your life difficult and now you would be less inclined to meet up with him again.

“I’ll just get an Uber, it’s fine.” You assured him with a warm smile. “We can share one if you want, that way you’ll know I got home okay. And I will know you got home okay too. Plus, it means we can keep hanging out a little longer.”

“Y-yeah?” It came out more of a question than a statement but you had simply nodded and pulled out your phone to open the app.

“I’m gonna need your address though, to book it.”

Steven gave you his address and it wasn’t long before the two of you were standing in the doorway of the café, staring at the small screen as you tracked your lift. The wind had picked up outside, the flurries of snow now creating mini hurricanes in the air, and neither of you really wanted to brave the cold until you really had to.

When the car pulled up, you had grabbed Steven’s hand and carefully crossed the soggy pavement, a gesture he didn’t fully comprehend until the two of you were safe and warm in the backseat and your hand remained in his. That wasn’t something just a friend would do, that meant you liked him, didn’t it? At least a little. He couldn’t help but let hope grow within him, perhaps this had all gone so well that you might be open to a more obvious date scenario.

All too soon, the car pulled up outside your home. “Well, Steven, it’s been lovely. We should definitely do this again” You said softly, leaning a little over and pressing your warm lips against his cold cheek. The action caused his brain to short circuit for a moment and before he could regain his senses you had been climbing out of the car and into the snow. His fingers pressed against his cheek, the ghost of your kiss still lingering there. Yes, he thought you should definitely do this again.

[angelfrommontgomery]

Pls explain the Michigan football thing more

For you I will try. I am not the most versed scholar on the topic but the background you need:

The Michigan Ohio state rivalry is rooted in an actual dispute over land (the toledo war)

From 2012-2019, Ohio state won every year

Since 2015, Michigan has been coached by Jim harbaugh, former Michigan quarterback

In 2019, tensions are high. Harbaugh has never beat Ohio state. Tensions are so high in fact, Michigan players attempt to take off an osu players shoe.

In 2020, Michigan has a TERRIBLE season and cancels the osu game, citing covid, but many are skeptical about the real reason

Jim Harbaugh gets a NEW CONTRACT. With a pay cut. He goes from highest-paid head coach in the conference to eighth. But if he starts winning, there’s incentives in his contract to win.

2021 Michigan wins

Credit where credit is due, Michigan had a good team. No suspicions are raised

2022 they win again, after coming back in the second half. Lots of rumors about them “stealing signs”

The deal with sign stealing: to call a play, teams have signs for the coaches to communicate with players. The nfl has technology in their helmets to avoid this problem btw. It’s not illegal to have somebody scout the other teams signs during the game, but it is illegal to send somebody to another game to scout signs “in-person”. It’s also illegal to record the other teams sideline like that. This is because it would give bigger teams a big advantage while smaller schools can’t afford to bankroll spying.

OCTOBER 2023: it breaks that Michigan had a staffer stealing signs. most people assume this story will amount to nothing. It’s hard to prove sign stealing.

THEN it comes out that this Michigan staffer bought 30 tickets over the past three years (since…2021… when they were better…) in his own name on his own credit card. His venmo transactions are public and he appears to be paying others to go to the games and record for him.

Rumors on message boards confirmed:

Many people suggest he could have been a lone actor, who decided to do this on his own, which would lessen the penalty.

THEN it comes out how crazy this guy is. He wrote a 500 page plan to become Michigan head coach in 15 years called his “Michigan manifesto”. He also includes other buddies of his that are coaching staff at other schools.

We all think it’s over, this guy is crazy and did this by himself. How sad for all the Michigan haters

Just a few hours later, the news drops that Michigan computers had detailed budgets and schedules of the sign stealing operations.

So not only was this guy crazy and wrote a Michigan manifesto, the entire program was participating in the cheating with him at the lead. It’s the best of both worlds for a hater like me

Many other rumors are still out there waiting to be confirmed, like the rumor that Michigan shared their knowledge of Tennessee’s signs so their opponent could ruin their championship chances.

Among the rumors

Is the cheating staffer on the sidelines of a Michigan state game???? It certainly looks like it

Note that he hides his face during the tv broadcast. And he wears shades at a 7pm game

How much crazier can this get? Will Jim Harbaugh leave? How much did this effect the 21/22 championships? Did they share the illegal signs? Will Michigan have to vacate their 2021-2022 wins? That would restore Ohio states winning streak… but we won’t know until the end of the season. Michigan hasn’t played since this news broke, but they are back this weekend. We will see how they look. This is the best thing that ever happened to a Michigan hater like me

[melis-writes]

THIS REQUEST OMFG MELIS

So one day Michael says he’s going away for a few weeks for business. Obviously by this time, Victoria and Sonny have a fully fledged relationship and affair that nobody has caught onto or figured out about.

Connie is away to NYC with Sandra and their kids. Vito and Carmela are away on vacation with Giuseppe and Ludovica and the guards are off as well while Fredo is dead perhaps and Victorias brothers are in NYC and that Niccolò and Verona joined their grandparents on vacation. The catering and cleaning staff and chauffeurs are off as well.

That leaves the Lake Tahoe compound and estate completely empty for other than Victoria and Sonny… Sonny excuses himself from going to NYC saying he’s going to do some things round the house yknow men things and Victoria’s parents tell her to have some chill time to herself without the kids there and some relaxation without Michael there too…

As the security is away, Victoria knows how to defend herself thank you very much, she and Sonny continue their relationship and affair openly at Lake Tahoe as nobody is there to notice or find out…

They have sex in the living room, dining room, kitchen, pool, yacht, gardens, the cellar, all the rooms in both Victoria’s compound and Sonny’s compound and there is obviously no cameras or security there to catch them… they have a few rounds in each place over those few weeks… they can be as loud as they want and even walk around naked…

But they also have a few rounds in VICTORIA AND MICHAEL’S MARITAL BED 👀🔥👀🔥👀🔥👀🔥

Ofc not long after those sex and love filled weeks together alone, Victoria finds out she’s pregnant and smiles knowingly at the fact it’s undoubtedly Sonny’s baby…

Down astronomically bad for Victonny… WOW. 😶😶 This is as scandalous and steamy as it gets, ESPECIALLY the marital bed part. 😈🙏🏻

Embroiled in your secret affair with your brother-in-law for well over a year, there’s no part of you that wouldn’t use the opportunity for privacy and to get away from hecticness of life and work just to be with Santino.

Even  just standing there and hearing the words you’d been anticipating for weeks to come out of Michael’s mouth telling you; “The Molinari family is expecting Tom and I for business in California. It will be only be for a few weeks as their guest, however…” The rest you completely drowned out.

It was the tingling rush of excitement and relief going through you at the sound of Michael’s absence—not because you had no love or respect for your husband despite your affair you’d never second guess or give up on, but because every part of you yearned and ached in desperation to be with Sonny without all the extra precaution.

Despite sneaking away, pretending to be busy and meeting up elsewhere among the many things you and Sonny did and do to savour every moment spent with one another, not a single soul has even caught wind of slight suspicion about the two of you.

Rarely does it ever align that you and Sonny are completely left alone at the Lake Tahoe compound, but with less family on the grounds of the estate also means less security and enforcement.

Of course, your regular patrol and security will be around the perimeters of the estates closely, but their concern does not lie with the privacy of the residents inside and what they do.

Your own family lives in Long Island and visits periodically every three months for a week whereas Vito and Carmela also spend half of the year back at the Corleone mansion in Staten Island as well.

Newly married to Leonardo, Connie spends most of her time in New York City with her husband frivolously shopping, dining and travelling most of the time and the twins are equally spending time with both of their grandparents while Michael is away.

Naturally due to the lack of family at Lake Tahoe, there’s a paid break also provided for the chauffeurs and catering staff, leaving almost the entire compound empty.

You’ve always been insistent on not having staff do everything around the estate at least for your family, seeing no need for a private chef or chauffer either but none other than Sonny know as to why your insistence on not having them near you much at all has grown more demanding.

Sonny himself would accompany his wife Sandra and the children to visit their in-laws for a few weeks back in Hell’s Kitchen, but excused himself with his own work and being left in the charge of the estate during Michael’s absence.

“Peace and quiet, eh?” Sonny smirks, leaning against the doorway of the study. “Not somethin’ we get so often here like you’d think.”

“Just the way you like it,” you tease back, walking out of the study.

Sonny smacks your ass firmly just as you walk past him, following you. “Just me and  my wife here for the next three weeks like nobody’s business, huh. Except now…” Sonny embraces you from behind, chuckling. “She wants to play hard to get and tease me.”

“I do no such thing,” you purr, leaning your head back and stealing a wet kiss from Sonny’s lips. “You came prepared.”

“You have no idea.” Sonny breathed hotly over your shoulder, looking down the hallway with you. “I got this whole place to my damn self with you. It ain’t a damn fantasy anymore.”

“A-anywhere…” Your breath hitches as you gaze down to see Sonny’s hands roaming up your blouse, squeezing your breasts through your bra.

“I’m gonna take my time with you.” Sonny whispers against the nape of your neck, inching your bra down your chest. “Get a good taste and feel of that sweet pussy… Mike’s car barely took off and you were back in the bathroom suckin’ me off in a heartbeat. Think I should reward you for that.”

“Oh, please.” You whine softly, pressing your back against Sonny’s body only to feel his erection poking against your ass. “I’m yours. I’m all yours, baby. Fucking take me wherever you want.”

“Anytime Mike wants to enjoy a cigarette by the window or sit on the couch—” Sonny squeezes your face, giving it a little shake. “He’s not gonna know I fucked his pretty little wife here and there, is he?”

“Never,” you moan back quietly, feeling Sonny’s free hand toying with your hardened nipple.

“Everywhere, baby.” Sonny’s quick to pull his hands off of you only to snatch down your pencil skirt off your knees before pulling you back.

“Do it.” You gasp out breathily, giggling and turned on by Sonny’s sexual aggressiveness and insistence on stripping you down bit by bit himself.

“For the next three weeks you’re gonna be walkin’ around with me completely naked.” Sonny roams his hands down your thighs, pushing off your skirt and panties by force. “I wanna see every bit of you whenever I want. You got this—” Sonny smacks both of your ass cheeks harshly, “fine fucking ass and these—” his hands then move to squeeze your breasts, fondling them. “Tits and they’re all mine, baby.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes!” You whimper, practically squirming from arousal in Sonny’s grasp.

With nobody, not even your private hired security to gain suspicion as to how long Sonny and you spend in Michael’s estate, moving from there to Sonny’s back and forth for the next few weeks, everything is set in perfection.

Every ounce of sexual frustration and heated desire built up in the two of you is released in every corner of the house both of you only teased and imagined each other fucking in; nothing is off limits.

“O-Oh my God, YES! Y-yes!” Stuttering from the overstimulation, you shriek out a load moan as you bounce up and down on Sonny’s cock—held in a full nelson position. “YES!”

With Sonny’s arms over your thighs and gripping the nape of your neck, your legs are fully spread and up in the air as you’re helplessly fucked on the leather couch you spent so many evenings cuddling up with Michael on.

“You fuck so good, you know that?” Sonny growls in your ear, pounding upwards into your pussy ruthlessly. “Mine, your pussy is mine, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes, yes!” You nod frantically, unable to stop the quivering in your thighs from edging back your orgasm multiple times.

“Wanna cum on this cock already, huh?” Sonny grunts, smacking your thighs again and again.

“I-I want to, I want to!” You pant, feeling your skin redden from the spanking and your ass slapping back down against Sonny’s waist. “P-please let me—”

“Tell me how much you fuckin’ love this cock.” Sonny pulls a fistful of your hair back, maintaining his swift and quick thrusting. “I know you want it more than Michael’s, don’t you?”

“I do, I—yes, yes!” You squeal, curling your toes from the waves of immense pleasure coursing through you. “I want you m-more—more than Michael. More! I want—” You shakily glance down at Sonny’s thick cock, all ten inches ramming into you. “I want your cock so much!”

Sloppy fucking only continues over the dining table barely three hours later with neither of you having enough.

Keeping one thigh up on the mahogany table and clutching onto the corner, Sonny kept one knee planted firmly on one of the dining tables and a perfect view and angle of your ass.

“I’ve never wanted someone as badly as you.” Sonny breathed over your back, having you completely pinned down on the table. “So fuckin’ much, baby. God, you drive me crazy.”

“Sonny, S-Sonny—” Your voice quivers with each rough thrust in your ass and Sonny shoving three fingers into your dripping pussy. “Oh my God, yes… Like that—right there. Oooh!”

Switching back and forth on both holes, your body gives into Sonny again and again, careless to squirt and let your cum drip off the wood.

“Keep cummin’ baby. Show me how much you fucking like it,” Sonny grins devilishly, spreading your ass open. “Don’t waste a single drop for me.”

Just as Sonny licked up the mixture of his and your cum out of your dripping pussy, he made you watch himself lick the rest of the mess off the table too before tongue kissing you sloppily to let you taste yourself.

Even pumping you full of his cum with no regard to any chances of pregnancy, Sonny refused to let a single drop go to waste over the kitchen counter.

“Deeper, yes!” You screamed out in pleasure, pushing your hips back to meet every inch of Sonny’s cock again and again.

“If it was up to me, I’d never come out of your pretty pussy.” Sonny exhaled sharply, obsessed with the way your tight, wet heat contracts over his shaft. “Take it in like a good girl, yeah baby, every single inch. Fuck, yes!”

Just as nowhere is off limits to fuck and please each other limitlessly, there’s nobody and nothing to stop neither you nor Sonny from using Michael’s silk ties as a blindfold on his and your own marital bed.

Pumped with three rounds of cum, squirt and cum seeping into the bedsheets, thrown off blankets and wrinkled duvets, you’re all the more turned on and severely aroused from having a blindfold over your eyes as Sonny fucks you into bliss.

The sore, aching sensation in your pussy from spending the remainder of your day fucking by the poolside and on the coffee table in the yacht only intensifies your rushing orgasms coming out back to back and provides more stimulation altogether.

“I wanna taste that sweet, heavenly pussy—” Sonny abruptly pulls his cock out of you after spewing another load of his hot sticky seed inside your pussy.

“Sonny—” You gasp out as he shoves you back down on the bed and lifts your thighs in the air before burying his face into your pussy.

With your thighs shaking uncontrollably against Sonny’s head, you clasp both of your hands over your mouth to stifle out the screams of how heavenly it feels to have Sonny’s warm tongue slobbering over your engorged, aching clit.

Sonny hungrily licks and suck his own cum out of your pussy, letting his tongue in and out of you before drooling excessively against your clit and shaking his head between your legs to stimulate you further with his stubble.

With his and your cum dripping off of Sonny’s soaked chin, Sonny’s quick to pull your thighs back down and let his hips meet yours all over again.

“YES! FUCK! FUCK!” You grip onto the bedsheets with every bit of strength left in you as Sonny’s cock impales your pussy again.

“I know he doesn’t fuck you like me here—” Sonny pants heavily, putting your legs over his shoulders but continuing to push and move in further so that your knees touch your shoulders and your pussy is fully angled up. “I’m the one who fucks you so good, baby. Isn’t that right?”

Having never been fucked in a position like this and right over the side of Michael’s bed, you squirt out more cum helplessly as you feel the outline of Sonny’s cock burying itself inside of you.

Your pussy convulses against Sonny’s cock and with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the even louder sound your pussy squelching from cum and dripping wetness, the scent of sex emancipates in your bedroom and is pure music to Sonny’s ears.

Having had the best sex of your life back to back in those three weeks, it was no doubt as to why you constantly had Michael take you in the same position upon his return although both you and Sonny knew it would never be or feel the same.

You still maintained a healthy, normal sex life with Michael before and certainly slept with him before the day of his lengthy business trip arrived so none took it as a surprise weeks later to find out you were pregnant once again.

Only you and Sonny knew the truth, secretly smiling at each other behind everyone’s backs at the announcement.

Two and a half weeks later after the fuck fest around the compound, you rest your hand over your stomach and know without a doubt that you’re carrying Sonny’s first child.

[leam1983]

Oblivion

So. Tomorrow, we're flying back home.

Seven days. A week spent with a small legion at my beck and call, bending to Walt's every whim, acceeding to Sarah's every request. One massive kitchen divided between four dining rooms, serving up everything from Americano-Mexican tentpoles to recomposed would-be Taino dishes, with a buffet where passable is the order of the day. Mornings were bland Continental breakfast affairs, but the evenings shone brightly, capstoned with the best cigars I've had in the last three years and the best damn Cappuccino in a decade.

Seven days realizing that an army is re-making my bed, giving me clean sheets every morning and fresh towels on the dot, showing extreme deference for my walker-using ass. A little cohort of maids paid Cheap Labor wages to smile, respond to everything with Es mi placer, señor, and pushed into treating USD tips in the single digits like they're Godly gifts.

You can bet that Walt was so appalled by this he starting leaving twenties. "These poor girls - cleaning up people's shit and vomit after the douchebags three doors down the hall spend the evening getting plastered on Mojitos - and not an ounce of gratitude!"

People started asking questions. Our passable Spanish led to us forming basic bonds with the staff, and turned our little bungalow in the Adults Only section into the talk of the resort. People with less manners started asking for drinks delivery and had to handle polite rebuffs, where we got the sense that the Room Service people were starting to network with the Pool Bar guys to figure out our schedule of preferred drinks.

Eventually, what had to happen happened. My feet were so swollen I couldn't put on my closed-toes shoes for the evening, as the dress code requests, but the staff didn't bat an eyelash when i wheeled in, looking like someone's favourite Math teacher, with socks and sandals. A Karen whose husband had completely overlooked the dress code was shocked.

"Why does he get to head inside dressed like this, and my husband can't?"

Yamilet, 23, born and raised in Santo Domingo and using the thankless job of the French Cuisine-oriented dining room's maître d' to pay her way through nursing school when she's not in church, gave her a Crest commercial-worthy smile.

Is un especial guest. Disculpe - see his legs. Mira?

For once in my life, I was happy to be singled out as disabled.

What really emerged from this is how gratitude really is crucial, when you're travelling. Everyone I heard who spouted variations on "having paid for the right to do whatever they wanted" received piss-poor service. Everyone who lowered their voice in a corridor, who showed basic deference and treated the staff like human beings received distinctly improved treatment. It wasn't just us - we noticed several other cultural groups in the resort, and I was actually thankful to draw a clear line between the nice Americans - and the douchebags.

In open spaces like the buffet, it's kind of impossible not to eavesdrop. If you're on vacation and you're still griping about your Democrat neighbours when you're halfway across the hemisphere from your point of origin, you're coloring your entire stay. The Trumptards who demanded service came in pissed off, stayed ornery and left irate. Anyone else, from anywhere else in the world, who politely asked, language barriers be damned, got what they asked for.

The Semester-Enders were hard to miss, too. Sixteen kids in total, barely in their twenties, who'd clearly pooled cash to rent swim-up suites together, and who turned the All-Ages section of the pool into a nightmare. There wasn't an inch of it that wasn't their private Football Toss area, and no resort-provided pool float that they just didn't claim for themselves.

It allowed for a sense of liminality to settle in. On one end of the more or less football-field-length of pool, you had pure chaos. On the other, placid waters, where the Adults Only club and our bungalow was located. I recovered the float I'd bought for myself, one of the Spring Breakers giving me a florid-faced and pleading look.

"Come on, bro!"

I gestured towards the back. "You've got seven other floats, over there, plus an inflatable mattress. I bought this one and brought it here. As it's my possession, I'd like to use it."

He chuckled meanly. "Nobody cares, man."

Christopher, 27, from Bàvàro, gave the guy a level look while climbing down from his lifeguard chair. "Everything okay, señores?"

"Me? Oh, everything's swell, Chris. It's the gentleman over there that's operating under weird delusions."

Chris nodded, his facial language obvious. Another one of those, huh? I nodded.

He smiled. No te preocupas, amigo.

The kid's response stuck with me. Nobody cares. Is this why some people work so much, hustle their way to a therapist and then book a week off to someplace where there's palapas, Afro-Cuban covers of Celine Dion classics and drinks that would make a medicated diabetes sufferer scream in abject terror? You put your ass to the grindstone and your only hope of recovery is to find a place, however theoretical, where nobody gives a shit?

Walt, Sarah and I brainstormed. We planned ahead. We rested aplenty, sure, and napped even more than we do back home - but this place energized us. We were free to create, and spent a week being the best versions of ourselves that we could possibly be.

For other people? It's apparently Adult Daycare. You get up at nine past the breakfast buffet's closure, complain that you can't get any service, throw yourself on yesterday evening's pizza, knock back cocktails starting at 11 AM and end up throwing up in the kiddie pool by 5 PM. You throw a fit because the pool boys had the gall to lift your limp ass out of the wading area before you could drown yourself while passed-out in a puddle-sized expanse of water. Because you're in your twenties, your brush with death is all but forgotten by 8 PM, and you head to the lobby's bar to knock back tequila shots with your fellow jabronis. The wee hours see you treating the public hallways like your personal hangout space, exchanging football huddle cries with equally-inebriated kids with no sense of their own mortality.

To all this should be added the resort's sense of liminality. If you forget your optimal route to your room, you'll end up in an entirely different resort. Pools look the same, everything's connected, and everyone feels transitory, obviously. It's the ersatz of a place. It's as impersonal as a hotel, except the staff are all stuck under a pall of fake-ass exoticism they can't shed. The equator line being so close means days are blisteringly hot and painfully short. By 7 PM, the sun's all but gone - and we're in May.

Nobody stays. Nobody leaves an impression. I've regaled Yamilet and Christopher with tales of La Banquise and of Schwartz' smoked meat or the bagel bakeries on St-Viateur - but I'll forget their faces just as they'll forget mine. We spent a week treating one another like culturally Latin brethren - Québécois deference having always meshed well with Cuban and Dominican confidence - but we won't remember one another in short order.

Single-serving friends, as Pahlaniuk once said.

I might as well head to the gift shop, swallow my pride and see if there's a tee-shirt on offer that reads I went to the Carribbean, and all I got for it was a lousy sunburn.