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440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

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Eight Years

Pairing: Dean x Reader. Other Characters: Sam x Eileen, Jody x Benny (not a vampire), Meg (not a demon) x Castiel, Rowena x Gabriel, Donna x Doug, Charlie x Stevie.

Word Count: 4995 (whew!)

Warnings: Mutual Pining, a smidgen of angst, mostly fluffy though.

Prompt: “Life is like a box of chocolates.”

Summary: Reader goes to Kansas City for a ‘Girls Weekend’ with her friends, while the guys decide to have a weekend of their own in the bunker. But, the guys get bored and decide to join the girls, which has everyone paired up except for Dean and the Reader. Will true feelings finally come out, or will it be Friend-Zone City?

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Jeans. Flannel/Hoodie. T-Shirts. Shorts. Swimsuit. Boots, just in case. You ran through the packing list in your head to make sure you didn't forget anything. The bag for your toiletry items was under the sink, so you put your toothbrush and other bathroom stuff inside. The last bits you needed to pack were the book you were reading and your phone charger. Once they were in your bag, you zipped it and threw it over your shoulder as you exited your room.

Sam was sitting at the map table, reading a book when you dropped your bag onto its surface. "All packed and ready to go?" he asked.

"Yep. Kansas City's not that far away, should you guys need any help with anything. Plus, I'll be with the 'Ladies' Hunting Contingent', so you'd have plenty of back-up," you chuckled.

"Nah, we're going to take the weekend off too. Dean said no hunting this weekend, so he invited the guys to come here," Sam replied.

"Really?" you asked incredulously.

"S'all your fault, you started it. Donna will be with you, which leaves Doug with nothing to do. Dean told him he should come here and hang out. In fact, you and Doug will probably pass each other on the highway," he grinned.

"Well, whatever. Y'all better behave yourselves," you warned.

"I'm sure we'll behave ourselves about as much as you girls are going to," Sam smirked.

"Ha ha, very funny. So, are you gonna miss me?" you asked.

"Nope, it'll actually be quiet without your snoring. But I bet Dean will," Sam countered. He knew about your feelings towards Dean, and figured out that the current ran both ways. Sam was convinced his life would be even better if only you and Dean would get past your self-doubts.

"'Dean will' what, Sammy?" Dean inquired as he pulled up a chair to the table.

"You'll miss her this weekend while she's gone," Sam clarified.

Dean then noticed your packed bag on the table. "Oh, that's right, this is your, uh, 'Girls' Weekend' in Kansas City," he replied. "That should be fun, all of you chicks together," Dean remarked.

"Yeah," you answered. But you didn't exactly answer the question, Dean...."I should probably get going. Got a decent drive ahead of me," you mumbled as you reached out to pick up your bag again.

"Here, I've got it, let me help," Dean picked up your bag and threw it over his shoulder.

You started to follow Dean up the stairs to the garage, but Sam called you back. Dean kept walking, so you said you'd meet him in the garage.

"C'mere, kiddo," Sam said as he pulled you into a hug. "Of course I'm going to miss you this weekend. And just because Dean didn't say so doesn't mean he won't miss you too. Maybe you should tell him--," Sam started.

You interrupted, "Wow, look at the time, I gotta go." You moved towards the stairs then turned to face Sam. "I'll miss you guys too. Have fun, you deserve it. Hell, we all deserve it," you chuckled softly. "Bye, Sam," you called as you made your way up the stairs.

Dean was waiting by your car when you entered the garage. "I put your bag in the trunk, I hope that was where you wanted it," he informed you.

"Oh sure, no problem. You didn't have to carry it up here for me, I would've managed okay. But thank you, Dean," you remarked.

"S'no problem, what are best friends for?" he replied, bringing you in for a hug that seemed a little tighter than usual. He pulled back abruptly and nervously cleared his throat. "Anyway, you should--ah--you should probably get going. Got that drive ahead of you, all by yourself. Drive careful," Dean said with a smile.

"I will. Have a good weekend with the guys, Dean. See you soon," you murmured as you ducked into your car. You turned the key and brought to life the rumbling engine of your 1968 Chevy Nova. With a slight wave of your hand, you backed out of the garage and drove out of sight.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You popped in an Aerosmith CD and cranked the volume as you tore down the highway. Dean certainly didn't approve of your decision to update the audio component for your classic car. But, driver picks the music, and you wanted more to choose from than the same 5 cassette tapes all the time.

Best friend, you muttered to yourself as you drove. After eight years, it's probably all I'll ever be to Dean. Even though he means more to me than I can ever put into words to tell him....

A pit stop at a Gas-n-Sip for fuel, snacks and a change in music to an 80s CD, and you were back on the road. After another three hours, you had reached your destination. It was an old ski lodge on the outskirts of the city that had been remodeled but without the ski lift. It had seven bedrooms and a wide open floor plan. The lodge came complete with a large kitchen, dining room and a common area with plenty of seating.

When you pulled up to the lodge, you saw Donna's truck, which brought you a little relief at not being the first one to arrive. She must have heard you drive in, because she came flying out of the front door over to your car.

Wrapping her arms around you, Donna nearly squealed with delight that you had finally arrived. "Oh, it's so good to see you!" she gushed. "I only got here about an hour ago, and I already picked out my room. Now that you're here, you get your pick!" she exclaimed.

You laughed as you retrieved your bag out of the trunk, linked arms with Donna then you both walked back into the lodge. She poured you a margarita as you unpacked your bag for the weekend. You sent Dean a text message to let him know you had arrived safely, then stowed your phone in your pocket.

By the time you came back out to the common area, Jody, Meg and Eileen had arrived. They gave you a hug in greeting, then went to stake their claims on the remaining rooms. Rowena and Charlie with Stevie rounded out the rest of the weekend's participants.

"Okay, everyone has a drink, right?" Donna asked. The ladies all nodded in agreement. "Good! Let our 'Girls Weekend' officially commence!" she declared. "Let's go 'round the room and give everyone an update. You know, say what or who we've been doing," Donna grinned mischievously.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back at the Bunker.....

Dean watched as you backed your car out of the bunker's garage, gave him a halfhearted wave, then drove off down the highway. He was mentally kicking himself for not giving you a better sendoff than a hug and a 'drive careful'.

The two of you were alone in the garage and he had you in his arms. It was a comforting feeling, like coming home, and he never wanted to let go. You idjit, he thought to himself. That would've been the perfect time to tell her how you feel....if only you hadn't chickened out. Dammit.

Shortly after you left, Doug arrived. He entered the bunker with Dean and noticed that Benny, Castiel and Gabriel had also made their appearances. Sam introduced Doug to the new arrivals then showed him to his room for the weekend. Once Doug had finished getting settled, he came out to the common area in time to hear Benny ask, "So what are y'all drinking?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the lodge.....

Most of the ladies had given their update on their activities over the past month, leaving just you and Donna to spill your secrets. Charlie and Stevie were working together at a tech firm, but not for much longer. Between them, they almost had enough money saved and/or investors to start their own consulting business.

Rowena and Gabriel were seeing each other off and on, both trying to stay out of trouble. Sam and Eileen were still going strong, texting each other, and meeting for dates whenever possible.

Jody and Benny had started dating, having been introduced by Dean. Benny moved to Sioux Falls and was hired on as a bartender at the local tavern, where he fit right in with the locals. He and Jody tried to see each other as often as possible, depending on their schedules.

Donna and Doug were back together, with their relationship picking up where it had left off. He had finally come to terms with the whole 'monsters are real' thing, and had even gone on a couple of simple cases with Donna.

Finally it was your turn. "Nothing much to tell, really," you shrugged.

"What about that guy you went out with a couple of weeks ago, what was his name?" Eileen asked.

"I think his name was 'Mr. Not Dean Winchester'," Meg snorted.

"Aren't they all named that?" Rowena chimed in.

To everyone's surprise, you chuckled lightly. "Yeah, I suppose you could say that. Maybe I'm a sap for holding on these past eight years, but I can't help it. I love him," you replied softly.

"The heart wants what the heart wants, even if the head says something else," Jody interjected.

When Donna walked back into the room, you realized you didn't even notice she'd left. "So, I just got off the phone with Doug. The guys are bored, so they've decided to head up this way. I might have said they could stay here with us," she explained hesitantly.

The color drained from your face, because you knew what this meant. Everyone would be paired off, except you and Dean. You looked into your glass and drained what was left of your margarita. "I'll be right back, I need a refill," you remarked as you exited your chair. Every eye followed you as you left the room.

"Okay, girls. I think y'all know what we have to do about her and Dean," Donna whispered conspiratorially. Each woman nodded in return, signaling a readiness to do her part.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the Bunker....

Dean was sitting at the table, eating the last slice of a cherry pie you had made him yesterday. Damn, am I glad that woman can bake, he smiled to himself.

He thought back to the day you made him that pecan pie, when you had decided that a frozen crust wouldn't do. You probably didn't know, but Dean watched as you made your own crust. You had even incorporated some finely crushed pecans into it.

Dean followed your movements as you cut the butter in with the flour, then added the water and the rest of the ingredients. He was mesmerized as you worked everything together and rolled out the crust, singing to yourself. The entire time, you had this smile on your face, and he couldn't recall the last time he'd seen you so content.

Ever since the two of you met eight years ago, he'd always thought you were beautiful. Not just on the outside, but to him, your beauty radiated from within. You showed it in how you made sure that everyone's needs were met, usually before or instead of your own. It was in the way you interacted with people, especially children, and in how they responded to you.

Even though he'd sometimes flirt with you, often just to see you blush, there was truth behind his words. You'd captured his heart all those years ago. Now, if only he'd had the strength or courage to tell you....

Sam poked his head into the kitchen to see his brother taking his dessert plate to the sink to rinse it. "Hey, Dean? Doug was just talking to Donna on the phone, and he came up with the perfect idea. You know, something other than watching movies and drinking," Sam explained.

"Oh, but Sammy, movies and drinking does sound like a good idea," Dean retorted sarcastically.

"I think you'll like this idea better, though," Sam persisted.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine," he huffed. "What is this 'perfect idea'?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On the road:

The girls sent you into town to pick up some extra supplies, since the guys would be joining you tomorrow at the lodge. You still weren't sure that this was a good idea, but if the girls wanted to see their guys, you weren't going to stand in anyone's way.

You stopped at the meat counter for some burgers, hot dogs and thick-cut bacon. After grabbing a couple of onions, you headed for the canned goods to pick up some baked beans. Your recipe called for the addition of bacon and onions, and you knew at least Dean wouldn't mind.

Once you picked up some cold cuts, you wandered over to the snack aisle for potato chips. When you saw the graham crackers, you remembered that there was a fire pit outside. S'mores would be awesome, you thought with a smile. So, you added the chocolate bars and marshmallows to your cart.

At the lodge:

"Ladies, I checked the weather report, and tomorrow's going to be a perfect day to head out to the lake and go swimming," Charlie announced.

"You sure, hun?" Stevie asked.

"Of course I am, babe. Can't wait to see you all smokin' hot in that red bikini I know you packed," Charlie winked, causing Stevie's cheeks to get warm.

Jody wandered in to the common area, eyes glued to her phone. "Okay, I texted Benny for him to make sure everyone has swimming trunks packed," she remarked.

At that moment, you stepped through the kitchen door with grocery bags in your hands. "A little help, please?" you called. Everyone pitched in to transport the supplies from your car to the kitchen, then helped put everything away.

"Marshmallows, graham crackers--wait, are we making S'mores?!?" Donna squealed.

You nodded. "There are benches around a fire pit out there, might as well put it to good use. I also grabbed a couple of rotisserie chickens, some noodles and sauce for Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo." Your announcement was met with a chorus of appreciative groans from your friends.

"It's a wonder those boys haven't gained, like, a million pounds, if this is how you cook for them," Meg chimed in. "Especially with as many pies as you bake for Dean," she added.

"They work it off by chasing after or running away from monsters," you chuckled.

"Or through other activities," Eileen signed. You translated for the group and joined in the raucous laughter that ensued.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the Bunker, Next Morning:

"Rise and shine, Sammy! C'mon everybody!" Dean belted out as he knocked on Sam's and all the other doors. Dean had packed the night before, because he didn't want to waste any time in the morning. He poured some coffee into his travel mug and made his way to the bunker garage.

Some time later, they stopped at the gas station on the way out of town for fuel and snacks, then it was back on the road. Doug, Benny and Sam went back to sleep in the car, leaving Dean time to think. He knew that with his friends and brother pairing off with their girls, that was going to leave the two of you together.

Questions raced through his mind about whether or not he should confess his feelings for you. So much could go wrong that he wasn't sure if he should mention anything to you. Sam stirred in the passenger seat next to him.

"So, are you going to tell her?" Sam asked.

"Tell who, what, Sam?" Dean countered.

"You know what, and you know who. Are you going to tell your best friend that you are in love with her," Sam clarified.

"I've been asking myself that same question for the past 50 miles. So many 'what-ifs'. What if she doesn't feel the same is a BIG one. What if we get together then fall apart six months from now? What if something happens on a hunt and she get hurt, or worse? What if--" he stopped.

"Dean, you can't do that to yourself. That stuff could happen whether you confess or not, no one knows the future. You have to take life as it comes at you," Sam remarked.

"Life is like a box of chocolates, brother," Benny drawled from the back seat. "You never know what you're gonna get or what the future holds. At least with her, though, you know you've got a good woman who loves you."

"Dude, did you seriously just 'Forrest Gump' me in the middle of my love crisis?" Dean asked, which drew everyone's laughter. Even Dean laughed before turning serious again. "You really think she loves me?"

"Oh, ya, Benny's right, Dean. Anybody can tell by looking that she loves you," chimed in Doug. "I've seen the way she smiles whenever you enter a room, or how she blushes whenever you 'accidentally' brush her hand," he replied.

"Huh. I never noticed that. Guess I'd better do something about it, then," Dean remarked as he continued down the road to the lodge. A smile tugged at his lips as a plan formed in his mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the lodge:

You were the first one out of bed in the morning, which meant you got first dibs on the hot water for a shower. On your supply run yesterday, you'd picked up bagels, cream cheese, muffins and some croissants for breakfast. A pot of coffee was started, and you filled a teapot with water for those not wanting coffee. You set the breakfast table with the baked goods, along with plates, cups and silverware.

At the counter, you started making the food for the picnic lunch by the lake with the guys. There were some sandwiches with ham, some with turkey and some with both. You even made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, just in case.

By the time the coffee had finished brewing, you had finished making the sandwiches. You put them in the fridge to go into the cooler later, and poured a cup of coffee. You tinkered with it until it tasted the way you wanted, then sat back in your chair to relax.

As you sipped your coffee, your thoughts wandered to the elder Winchester. Dean and the other guys were due to arrive any time, which excited and frightened you at the same time. You were excited to spend time with your best friend. At the same time, you were scared as hell that he would see past that, right through to where you hid your feelings for him. But then you thought, what if I didn't hide them this time?

Unfortunately, you didn't get a chance to answer yourself, because you heard the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine. Coffee cup still in hand, you rushed to the front door to greet the boys. You opened the door and leaned against the door frame as you watched the guys pile out of the Impala. You put your finger to your lips to indicate that everyone else was still sleeping.

Dean was the first to reach the front door. "Morning, sweetheart," he greeted you with that sexy grin of his.

"Morning, Dean," you replied quietly, returning his smile. "Come on in, but please keep the noise down. Everyone but me is still sleeping," you said. "If you guys are hungry, there's breakfast stuff on the table, help yourself."

Suddenly, you felt someone take hold of your free hand as you walked to the kitchen. You turned and saw that it was Dean, which caused a warmth to bloom in your cheeks. Instead of letting go, your smile grew and you adjusted your hand so your fingers were laced with each other.

"Where can we put our bags?" Sam asked.

"For now, just leave them by the patio doors. Should be out of the way enough until you can each locate your girlfriend's room," you teased.

Dean leaned in close to your ear. "So, where does that leave me?" he rumbled, his breath hot against your skin.

"Um, well, I can show you to my room if you want to store your bag in there for now," you replied. "There's only the one bed, though, so....," you murmured.

"I'm okay with sharing....as long as you're sure you're okay with it, darlin'" he said smoothly.

You could only nod, because the power of speech momentarily eluded you in that exact moment. A shake of your head seemed to reboot your brain and return your voice. "My room is at the end of the hall, to the right, if you want to put your stuff away," you remarked.

Dean squeezed your hand before letting go and headed for your room. You quickly ducked into the bathroom to try and gather your wits about you. "Get it together," you hissed, pointing at your reflection. After splashing some cold water on your face, you went back out to join the others.

One by one, the girls trickled into the kitchen for coffee and whatever else for breakfast. Castiel and Gabriel had recently appeared and were saying hello to their girlfriends. Dean had returned as well, and took your chair just before you could sit down. Before you could walk away, he grabbed you around the waist and sat you down in his lap. "Comfy?" he asked with a smirk.

"So far, so good, Winchester," you countered with a wry grin. He wrapped one arm around your waist and hooked the other across your lap then gave you a squeeze in response. From the time you left the bunker to when the guys arrived, something seemed to have changed with Dean. You decided to go with the flow and see where it would lead.

In between bites of bagel, you explained the plans for the day. "We're going swimming at the lake, then we have stuff for a picnic lunch, with burgers, beans and hotdogs for dinner." Dean's eyes lit up at the mention of burgers. "And, since we have a fire pit, I got the stuff to make S'mores!" you added enthusiastically.

"You know, Dean is somewhat of an expert at roasting marshmallows," Sam threw in slyly.

"You are?" you asked as you gazed into his perfect forest green orbs.

"Oh yeah, sweetheart. I have it down to a science now," he boasted.

"This I've got to see," Meg replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The day could not have been more perfect for swimming and a picnic at the lake. You chose to stay on shore, relaxing with your book. Most of your reading is lore for whatever case you're working, so time spent reading for fun was golden. Every once in a while, your eyes would drift over to your friends, who were laughing and having the best time together.

A soft smile crept across your lips at seeing everyone so happy. You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you didn't hear Dean sneak up behind you. He leaned close to your ear. "You have a lovely smile. I've always thought so," he whispered.

You gasped in surprise at the proximity of his voice. "Thank you," you whispered back as your smile returned.

Dean sat down, cross-legged, on the blanket in front of you, while your eyes were still on your book. He gently pried the book from your hands and replaced your bookmark. Then he hooked his finger under your chin and tilted your face upwards to gaze into your eyes. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you," he started.

"Oh? What's that?" you asked, your voice wavering a bit as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

He nervously cleared his throat before speaking. "Well, you see, I--" he started.

"Hey you two, we're starving for some burgers and hot dogs! Can we please head back to the lodge to get cleaned up?" Meg broke in.

You put your hand up. "Wait a minute. Meg, can you guys give us a minute?" you implored. She shrugged and started walking back to the car. "What were you saying, Dean?" you asked.

Dean shook his head. "S'okay, we probably should head back anyway," he mumbled as he picked up the cooler.

Inside you were screaming at Meg for interrupting your conversation with Dean. You made a promise that if you and Dean were alone again, you'd ask him to finish his thought.

Dinner was a rousing success, with the juicy burgers and hot dogs, plus your kicked-up baked beans. As Dean was grilling the food, he was talking with the guys and laughing at their jokes. On the outside, he looked like he was having fun, but you were dismayed to notice that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

After dinner was done, Benny and some of the others went out to start the campfire and to make sure they had a good seat. Dean stayed behind to help you with the dishes, even though you told him he didn't have to, since he cooked. The two of you worked in a comfortable silence, even though the events of earlier were still on your mind.

Several rounds of S'mores later, everyone started to head off to bed, one couple at a time, leaving you and Dean alone again. There were still some marshmallows in the bag, so you grabbed a couple and held them up for Dean. "Okay, Winchester. Time to show me your marshmallow roasting secrets," you grinned.

Dean grinned back as he plucked them from your fingers and skewered them on the stick. "Now, if you're not careful, these will flame up and you're left with a blackened, charcoal mess," he began. He walked around the fire pit, trying to find the best heat source for the marshmallows. Once he found one, he moved so he was sitting on the other side of you on the bench. "The trick is to use the embers. That's where it's hottest, but you're less likely to 'flame out', as it were," he explained.

You watched his movements, completely entranced by his concentration and softness in his voice as he continued. "You kinda have to keep turning it, so it gets golden brown, but not torched." From the side, you could see a reflection of the flames, dancing in his eyes. "A few more turns, and voilà. The perfectly cooked marshmallow," he remarked.

Dean pulled the stick from the fire and carefully slid the marshmallow off of the end. You tried to take it from his fingers. "Ah ah ah, open up, sweetheart," he smirked. You did as he asked and he gently placed the marshmallow on your tongue. A groan of appreciation escaped your lips, as you broke the delicate crust that gave way to a melted but not molten center.

"Perfect," you whispered.

He slid the other marshmallow off the end of the stick and popped it in his mouth. A little of the melted center somehow ended up on the corner of his mouth. "Oh, wait a second, you've got some--um--some marshmallow on your--here, let me," you stammered.

Without thinking, you dove in and meshed your lips with his on the spot where you'd seen the marshmallow. When it seemed he didn't respond, you leaned back and broke the kiss. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean--I should go," you stood up from the bench to head back into the house.

Dean grabbed hold of your wrist to stop you from leaving. "Wait, I need to tell you something," he pleaded.

"No, it's all right, Dean. I get it, I made a mistake. You don't feel the same, and that's okay. Just please let me go inside," you whispered, tears threatening to fall.

"Aw, to hell with this," he growled as he closed the distance between you until you were mere inches apart. "I'm gonna finish what I started to say earlier. Then if you still want to run back inside, I won't stop you. Okay?" he asked sternly.

You nodded slowly. "Okay," he said more softly as he brushed the back of his knuckles on your cheek. "You and I have been best friends for the past eight years. Somewhere along the way, things between us changed. For me, anyway. I can't believe it's taken this long to tell you, but sweetheart? I am in love with you," he declared.

Tears of happiness streamed down your cheeks. "I've waited so long to hear those words. Wasn't sure I ever would, but I never gave up hope. I love you, Dean Winchester. Always have, always will," you replied. You placed one hand alongside his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

Dean gently brushed your tears away with his thumbs. Then he slipped his hand around to cradle you behind your head and inched forward until your lips met yet again. This kiss was different, because you felt the depth of his emotions contained within it. The friendship between you, his fear of your rejection at the offer of his love. And finally, his acceptance of your love for him.

When the kiss was broken, you pulled back a little from each other enough to rest your foreheads together. "I love you so much, baby," Dean whispered.

"I love you too, Dean. C'mon, let's head inside to my--our--nice and cozy room," you suggested.

"Right by your side, sweetheart. Forever and always," Dean added. He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, then you both walked back into the lodge.

Donna and Doug were in the kitchen with Jody and Benny, getting some water. "Goodnight, all," you and Dean called over your shoulders.

Jody smirked at Donna and held out her hand, into which Donna slapped a $10 bill. Donna rolled her eyes and said, "Shut up", which caused Jody to break out into laughter.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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fuckyeahstephensondheim · 4 years ago

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Rick Pender knows his Sondheim from A to Z

If the word “encyclopedia” conjures for you a 26-volume compendium of information ranging from history to science and beyond, you may find the notion of a Stephen Sondheim Encyclopedia perplexing. But if you have ever looked at a bookshelf full of book after book about (and occasionally by) the premiere musical theatre composer-lyricist of our era and wished all that information could be synthesized and indexed in one place, maybe the idea of a Sondheim encyclopedia will start to make a little more sense to you. It did to Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, an independent publisher that’s made encyclopedias such as this one of their calling cards, offering tomes on everyone from Marie Curie to Akira Kurasowa. Several years ago, they approached Rick Pender, longtime managing editor of the gone but never forgotten Sondheim Review and now, after years of research, writing, and pandemic-related delays, the The Stephen Sondheim Encyclopedia is finally hitting shelves. I sat down with Rick (via Zoom) to chat about this unique, massive project.

FYSS: I want to really focus on the new book, but we should start with your history with Sondheim and The Sondheim Review. How did you become so enmeshed in this work?

RP: As a teenager, the first LP that I bought was the soundtrack from West Side Story, and I didn't have any clue about who much of anybody was, particularly not Stephen Sondheim. But I loved the lyrics for the songs, especially “Something’s Coming” and “Gee, Officer Krupke.” These are just fabulous lyrics.

Then, of course, in the ‘70s it was hard as time went by not to have some awareness of Sondheim. I saw a wonderful production of Night Music in northeast Ohio, and I again just thought these lyrics are incredible, and I love the music from that particular show. Fast forward a little further in the late ‘80s, I was laid up with some surgery and I knew I was going to be bedridden for a week or two anyway, so I went to the public library and grabbed up a handful of CDs, and in that batch was A Collector's Sondheim, the three-disc set of stuff up through about 1985, and I must have listened to that a hundred times, I swear, because it had material on it that I didn't know anything about like Evening Primrose or Stavisky. So that really opened my eyes.

Later, my son had moved to Chicago. He's a scenic carpenter and a union stagehand. He worked at the Goodman Theatre, and I went to see a production when they were still performing in a theater space at the Art Institute of Chicago, and they had a gift shop there. And lo and behold in the rack I saw a copy of a magazine called The Sondheim Review! I thought, oh my gosh, I've got to subscribe to this! This would have been about 1996, probably, so I subscribed and enjoyed it immediately. A quarterly magazine about just about Stephen Sondheim struck me as kind of amazing.

In 1997-98 the Cincinnati Playhouse did a production of Sweeney Todd in which Pamela Myers, all grown up, played Mrs. Lovett, and so I wrote to the editor of the magazine and said, “Would you like me to review this?” That started me down a path for a couple of years of making fairly regular contributions to the magazine. Then in 2004 that editor retired, and I was asked to become the managing editor, which I did from 2004 to 2016. It went off the rails for some business reasons, but it lasted for 22 years which I think is pretty remarkable.

I tried to sustain it in an alternative form with a website called Everything Sondheim. We put stuff up online for about 18 months, and we published three print issues that look very much like The Sondheim Review, but we were not able to sustain it beyond that.

FYSS: How did the Encyclopedia project originate?

RP: The publisher asked me to write an encyclopedia about Stephen Sondheim! I envisioned that I would be sort of the general editor who coordinated a bunch of writers to put this together, but they said no, we're thinking of you as being the sole author. They had done a couple of other encyclopedias particularly of film directors, and those were all done by one person, so they sent me a contract asking me to generate 300,000 words for this book, and after I regained consciousness, I said all right, I'll give it a try.

It took me about two years – most of 2018 and ‘19 – to generate that content. I sent it off in the fall of ‘19, and then, well, the world stopped because of the pandemic. It was supposed to come out April a year ago, and they had just furloughed a bunch of their editors and everything stalled. But now it's coming out mid-April 2021.

FYSS: What was the research and writing process like?

RP: This project came about in part because the publisher initially approached another writer, Mark Horowitz, who's at the Library of Congress and who had done a Sondheim book of Sondheim on Music. Mark and I had become quite close because he wrote a number of wonderful features about different Sondheim songs for The Sondheim Review. When I heard that that he had put my name out there, I went back to him after I had agreed to do this and said, Mark, could we use some of that material that you wrote for the magazine about those songs? And he said, sure do with them whatever you wish. And I was glad he said that, because they were really long pieces, and I've reduced each of them to about 1500-2000 words, which I thought was probably about the maximum length that people would really want to read in a reference volume.

But other than that, I generated everything else myself. I relied upon plenty of material within the 22 years of back issues of The Sondheim Review. Another great resource was Sondheim's own lyric studies, the two-volume set which provides so much information about the production of shows and that sort of thing.

Of the 131 entries I wrote for this, 18 of them are lengthy pieces about each of the original productions, so again Sondheim's books were certainly useful for that, and other books like Ted Chapin's book about Follies.

I also spent some time in Washington, D.C. at the Library of Congress, and Mark loaned me a quite a bit of material that he had collected – not archival material but scrapbooks of clippings that he put into ring binders of stuff about Sondheim's shows.

I came back to Cincinnati with about four or five cartons of materials, and I could really dig through that stuff as I was working on these. And then I have, as I'm sure you and lots of other Sondheim fans have, a bookcase with a shelf or two of Sondheim books, and those were all things that I relied upon, too.

I actually generated a list with lots and lots of topics, probably over 200, and I knew that was going to be more than I could do. Eventually, some things were consolidated, like an actor who perhaps performed in just one Sondheim show wasn't going to get a biographical entry, but I would talk about them in the particular show that they were involved in. So, I was able to collapse some of those kinds of things. But as I said, I did end up with 131 entries in the publication, and it turned out to be 636 pages, so that's a big fat reference book.

FYSS: Who is the intended audience for a work like this? RP: The book is really intended to be a reference volume more than a coffee-table book. It does have photography in it, but it's black and white and more meant to be illustrative than to wallow in the glories of Sondheim. There is an extensive bibliography in it, and all the material is really thoroughly sourced so people can find ways to dig into more.

FYSS: Sometimes memories diverge or change over time. Did you come across any contradictions in your research, and how did you resolve them?

RP: I can't say that I can recall anything like that. I relied very heavily on Sondheim's recollections in Finishing the Hat and Look, I Made a Hat because he's got a memory like a steel trap. Once in a while I would email him with a question and get very quick response on things. I really used him as my touchstone for making sure of that kind of thing.

I also found that Secrest’s biography was very thoroughly researched, and I could rely on that. But I can't say that I found a lot of discrepancy, and some of those kinds of things were a little too much inside baseball for me to be including in the encyclopedia.

FYSS: For figures with long and broad histories, how did you decide what to include? George Abbott, for example, is the first entry in the book and he worked for nine decades! How important was writing about an individual as they relate to Sondheim vs. who they were more generally?

RP: To use George Abbott as an example, I would say that the first things that I did was to go back to the lyric studies and to the Secrest biography and just look up references to Abbott. I mean, it was George Abbott who said that he wanted more hummable songs from Sondheim, so you know that was certainly an anecdote that was worth including because, of course you know, it becomes a little bit of the lyric in Merrily We Roll Along.

So you know, I would look for those kinds of things, but I also wanted to put Sondheim in context because Abbott was well into his career when he finally directed Forum which, since it was Sondheim's first show as a composer and a lyricist, is significant. That was very much the focus of that entry, but I wanted to lay a foundation in talking about Abbott, about all the things that he had done before that. I mean, he was sort of the Hal Prince of his era in in terms of his engagement in so many different kinds of things – writing plays, directing musicals, doctoring shows, all of that.

FYSS: Did any entries stick out to you as being the hardest to write?

I think the most complicated one to write about probably was Bounce/Road Show because it's got a complicated history, and Sondheim has so much to say about it. And because it's not a show that people know so much about, I wanted to treat it appropriately, but not as expansively as all of that background material might have suggested. So I kind of had to weave my way through that one. It also was a little tough to write about, because how do you write a synopsis of a show that has had several incarnations quite different from one another, and musical material that has changed from one to the other? With shows like that, I particularly tried to resort to the licensed versions of the shows.

FYSS: I haven't had a chance to read the book cover-to-cover yet, but I did read the Follies and the Into the Woods entries to try to get a sense of how you covered individual shows, and both of those are shows that had significant revisions at different times. And I thought you made it very clear what they were and also where to go for a reader who wants to learn more.

RP: Let me say one other thing this is not directly on this topic, but it sort of relates, and that is that in writing an encyclopedia, I didn't want to overlay a lot of my very individual opinions about things, but with each of the show entries I tried to review the critical comments that were made about the show in its original form, perhaps with significant revivals and that sort of thing, and then to source those remarks from critics at those various points in time. And of course, my own objectivity (or lack thereof) had something to do with what I was selecting, but I thought that was a good way to represent the range of opinion without having to make it all my own opinion.

FYSS: Did you feel any responsibility with regards to canonization when you made choices about what to include or exclude? What made the First National Tour of Into the Woods more significant than the Fiasco production, for example? Why do Side by Side by Sondheim & Sondheim on Sondheim get individual entries, but Putting It Together is relegated to the omnibus entry on revues?

RP: I guess that now you are lifting the curtain on some of my own subjectivity with that question. I tried to identify things that were particularly significant. I mean with the revues for instance, several of those shows – you know, particularly Side by Side by Sondheim, the very early ones – they were the ones I think that elevated him in people’s awareness. So, I think that to me was part of what drove that. And then shows that that were early touring productions struck me as being things that maybe needed a little bit more coverage. I think the Fiasco production was a really interesting one, but with the more recent productions of shows I just felt like there's no end to it if I begin to include a lot of that sort of thing.

FYSS: I mean it's so subjective. I'm not the kind of person who clutches my pearls and screams oh my goodness, how could you not talk about this or that. But I was surprised to see in your Follies entry that the Paper Mill Playhouse album was not listed among the recordings, for example. I imagine that once this book hits shelves you're going to be bombarded with people asking about their pet favorites.

RP: Oh, I'm sure, and maybe that will be a reason to do a second edition, which I’m totally ready to do.

The Sondheim Encyclopedia hits bookstore shelves April 15. It’s available wherever you buy books, but Rick has provided a special discount code for readers of Fuck Yeah Stephen Sondheim to receive 30% off when you order directly from the publisher. To order, visit www.rowman.com, call 800-462-6420, and use code RLFANDF30.

Celebrate the launch of The Sondheim Encyclopedia with a free, live online event featuring Rick Pender in conversation with Broadway Nation’s David Armstrong Friday, April 16 from 7:00 to 9:00 p.m. Eastern. More information and register here.

#Stephen Sondheim #Rick Pender #The Stephen Sondheim Encyclopedia #The Sondheim Review

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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The Loud House Valentine’s Day Double Feature (Back in Black and Stage Plight) or My My My Once Bitten Twice Shy

What is up my Loudites? And while I am returning to the Loud House I do have some sad news to get out of the way first.. i’m ending regular coverage of the Loud House. I don’t like doing this.. but when I picked up the show, I didn’t really have a set schedule.. and that was a bad thing as I didn’t get nearly everything I wanted done. Now I have one and honestly it’s been great: it allows me to stay focused and if I end up not feeling what I was going to do that day, provided it’s not a comission or specfically needed that day, I can swap things around a bit easier.

The reason I bring this up is Nick’s way of scheduling means I CAN’T reasonably put the show on the schedule. They often don’t announce airdates until the wee before, which isn’t a bad thing WATCHING, and isn’t unresonable for a children’s network. But for someone who likes to have a concrete schedule at the top of the month, still flexable and able to make changes if they come up but at least some idea of what i’ll be doing and when, that’s a non-starter, as not knowing when a show’s going to be there or not really messes with things. In contrast Disney puts up their entire programming schedule for next month towards the end, so I know if a show’s coming back, and thus that it’ll probably be around for next month’s too. And if it goes away a week earlier than expected then super I have that space for other sttuff. But I just have too much other stuff, paid and on my own time, to keep friday’s open in perpetuity.

I will however still reviewing the show infrequently as I still love it, Season 5 will probably have plenty of episodes I want to talk about, already it has Leni running for mayor which sounds like one of my wonky spinoff ideas and I love it all the more for that, and ther’es tons of episodes I have and haven’t seen to dig into. So like Lori I won’t be in the house on a daily basis but i’m still going to show up a lot. I already have an April Fools special planned, as well as a retrospective ready for some time in the future. And of course if more Sam and Luna episodes show up, you know i’ll be on those as fast as humanly possible so yeah not leaving the show.. just not coveirng it because I like having some control of my schedule, it’s a thing with me.

Good then we can get to why your ACTUALLY reading this unless you’ve already scrolled past or scrolled up to this. Next Sunday is Valentine’s Day, and so to continue Valnetine’s Shenanigans on this fine blog, i’m doing some romantic style episodes of the loud hosue for you. I did intend for this to be bigger, but frankly i’ve been running behind on reviews and running out of steam lately, so I paired it down to the two I wanted to do most. So for today we’ll be covering two of the show’s couples: One they badly need to bring back and I question why they haven’t, and one that I feel has gotten a lot of flack for things that aren’t it’s fault. Both are really adorable so expect some awkward blushing, bats, blood, and other stuff rhyming with B under the cut!

Back in Black: So we begin our double feature with Lucy

Yeah I have not covered this adorable harbinger of death enough on this blog, and intended to do this one, among other lucycentric episodes back in october.. and the fact I didn’t is a good argument for why I have a schedule now ain’t it? But sometimes your plans not panning out right at the exact time you planned them works out for you. Not getting to do Plan 9 From Mission Hill during Pride Month meant I got to do it on comission later. And not getting to do this one at Halloween means it still works fine just fine for valentine’s day.

So we begin the episode with Lincoln working on his science project, with Rusty coming over to help.

Shockingly though not only is he not just taking a nap or hitting on Lincon’s sisters while Lincoln works but actually helping, he’s actually good at it. I’m as suprsied as you. Though this is early in his characterization, so he hasn’t’nt been established as horribly sucking at everything or his friends being done with his bullshit QUITE yet. Give him time. This is an interesting moment in the character’s history though, as it’s the episode that firmly establishes him as a close friend of Lincolns. While he was already turned from a member of a random violence gang to LIncoln’s buddy in the span of season 1, this episode cements him as one of his closer pals simply by him coming over and the two being fairly familiar with one another. Granted by that same token Girl Jordan should be in the group.. and I have nothing to add to that. Add Girl Jordan to the Lincrew. Just do it.

Anyways Rusty brought his brother along. And you’d expect me to be terrified as there’s now three of them. But.. nope I like Rocky. He’s a chill kid and his personality goes together well with Lucy’s as while he’s a more typical kid, he’s still very subdued in his emotions like she is. Also he mentions both parents so my divorce theory.. is honestly still valid as this was three seasons ago and I could buy their mother left during that time.

And yes Lucy’s in love.. and stalking him a bit as she follows him around the house sighing while he wonders who did that.. though it is a nice clue their compatible. When you can sense the presence of someone whose big running gag is showing up out of nowhere to scare the crap out of people that means something. And it’s either that you’d really get that person or your Wolverine. Or one of his kids. Or his clones. Or clones of his clones. What i’m saying is Rusty’s mom banged the wolverine and his family tree is really weird even by marvel standards.

But I do give her a pass as she’s not trying to be creepy or obsessive, she just doesn’t know how to talk to him as he’s your average kid and she’s a creature of the night. It’s just a kid being shy which is very refreshing both because pre-savnio being fired the show had some very messed up ideas about relationships and gender politics at times, the latter of which actually crops up here, and because having grown up with the cartoons of the 90′s and 2000′s.. I had to put up with things like this.

Full Disclosure: I DO ship sonamy.. but only after around Sonic Chronicles, where Bioware and then Sega decided to not make “Constantly harasses sonic despite him clearly not being interested and saying so vocally” and “Obessess over him to a point I worry she’s going to break his legs so he’ll never run away from her again”, as well as aging her up from 12. Still find her ungodly annoying at best and terrible at worst before that point, Sonic CD and Sonic Advance excluded. And yes I am that huge of a nerd, damn proud of it too.

What i’m getting at is that a little girl unable to talk to a guy and only being kinda creepy because that’s what she does is LEAGUES better than “IT’S NOT CREEPY WHEN A WOMAN DOES IT”. Given this episode was written by a woman that probably helped a lot if not entirely but I don’t blame her for that.. more on that later.

Point is she’s smitten but her first attempt to talk goes back as he rushes to leave after she tries talking to him.. and also appears out of nowhere to spook him. Come on man, your better than that. YOu sensed her before why not now? Up your game. But yeah Lucy’s depressed while Lincoln talks to her about it, about them leaving and once Lucy confesses she’s into rocky asks what he’s into. Lincoln.. has no idea as he’s barely been around Rocky. He’s just an average kid he dosen’t quite understand. Normal is the word he uses and Lucy ponders that. We next see the three most traditionally feminine sisters, Lori, Leni and Lola, all pissed someone stole their stuff, though Lori does suspect Lola at first because let’s face it, this fits her MO of being an entitled brat and not being above petty theft. But no the culprit is Lucy who genuinely apologizes and understands that their mad but the other girls are fine with it given the context, which Lucy explained, and are happy to make her over. This is where the problem I was hinting at comes in: ALL the girls are on board with this makeover plan. the problem is.. only the three who came in in the first place make actually sense making Lucy more tradiotnally feminine. Lori loves fashion and is a control freak who has troubles with empathy at times especially at this point in the series, Leni while not INTETIONALLY hurtful is kind of ditzy and thus can miss some cues, and Lola has a yawning starless void where her soul should be. For these three? Yeah this plot actually makes sense they wouldn’t think of Lucy’s feelings and actually help her use who she is to get rocky or tell her it doesn’t matter she’s beautiful as she is.. then presumably bring the wrath of god down on that poor child before things were cleared up. The issue is more dragging the other sisters into it. It only fits the three above to really give a shit about making Lucy more “normal” and “Girly” and “Other stereotypical bullshit”. Luna is very chill and empathetic and would be the first to say “Wait maybe making her the opposite of herself isn’t a good idea”, Luan is likewise empathetic though I could possibly see it she really doesn’t need to be in this plot, Lynn ENTIRELY doesn’t fit as she prefers sports and getting dirty and what not and is the closest to Lucy out of the sisters and thus would probably be the most defensive about her not changing and that could’ve actually been interesting, Lana would be the same minus the being closest and Lisa is coldly detached a lot of the time and wouldn’t care about any of this on a good day. It feels HORRIBLY offensive and out of character to have them all suddenly be “nah your not girly enough”. These girls don’t give a shit about whose more feminine than who and it’s really bad to pidgeonhole them as that. However.. I dont’ blame episode writer Gloria Shen entirely for this. She wrote it, she gets some of the discredit.. but she didn’t DIRECT the episode and a LOT can change from page to screen. No THAT was series creator and known sexual preadator Chris Savino. And i’m not just blaming him because he’s a creepy asshole, but because the seasons he directed, seasons 1, 2 and most of 3, had a bad habit of having episodes where all the girls acted as a group and often to weak ends, like the green house, the one where they all fought, the gender swap episode or heavy meddle.. which is a headache for another day. Point is it doesn’t surprise me he didn’t fix this or even genuinely cared to differentiate them and it’d be until next season where the show fully became an ensemble piece. SO yeah I blame him on this not for his horrible history, but simply because it sounds like his writing style and as director, and a producer on the show, he had the power and responsibility to fix things and did nothing. So if it wasn’t directly his fault in the first place , he certainly didn’t fix it, call it out in storyboarding or well anything. So yeah shared blame all around.

So after a makeover montage, Lucy is uh... well I can’t describe the abomination they’ve created.

I mean.. none of it works, and I think that’s very much the intent, dosen’t make it any less horrifying. Nothing about this is right: makeup REALLY shouldn’t go on a child in any circumstace so the blush on her cheeks is creepy and makes her look like one of those creepy porcelian dolls that i’m 100% sure either are planning to kill us all one day or were made to keep the souls of the damned trapped inside forever. The ear rings just look creepy and again are a bit much for an 8 year old, and the blonde hair just brings it all together. The pink outfit is fine.. I guess but the face is just so unsettling I can’t process the rest of her outfit and i’m not even going to try.

Point is she looks terrifying, and not in the fun way she usually does, and Rocky dosen’t know what to make of this. Oh and if your wondering why he’s here Lynn just.. took a hockey stick to Lincoln’s project to get the Spokes Boys back over here, and Lisa mocked him for pointing out the obvious holes in their plan despite being 4 and LIncoln having a girlfriend at this point. Granted his relationship with Ronnie Anne at this point is also kinda effed up, but given you all pushed him in this direction, Lisa still has no room to talk and they amicably broke up at some point once the writers decided “Let’s pretend like this never happened and they were just friends, despite her being introduced with a crush on him and us still replaying episodes with said relationship in play, instead of actually dealing with this directly”. You may be easily able to guess what hte retrospective’s about at this point. So Lori comes in for phase two .. WITH BOBBY!

Just.. I cannot tell you how much I needed my boy to calm me down after the last two scenes of horribly off character writing and ... that thing up there. He dosen’t do much this episode but every episode is better with Bobby and that’s a scientefic fact. So Lori claims they had a double date fall through which Bobby barely follows along with.. and it does kinda feel pressurey to kinda force Rocky’s hand here but her intentions ARE good, and a group date is a good way to relive presssure. It just ends up falling through becaue Lori wants her to act intentionally helpless, which makes no sense both for Lori’s personality given how driven and controlling she is and how Bobby clearly knows both things and likes the first and she worked on the second for him. So yeah the golf date falls through and Lori apologizes for being a bitch about all of this, as they all do, which again. .has me questioning WHY we needed the whole sister group instead of just Lori and co. Or even just Lori. The show REALLY needed to learn character ballance and while it is struggling on occasion, as seen with how lincolncentric this season has been so far, this episode reminds me it used to be MUCH worse.

But Lucy thanks them because their intetnions were good, i’m going to need a citation on that given it came off as them wanting her to change because they found her weird nad not because they genuinely wanted to help her, and goes off to sulk about being alone. Lincoln dosen’t know what to do till the next day where, again suprisingly, Rusty had the right idea and had them come over to his place. We also find out he’s scared of blood.. which.. I can relate to. Seriously i’ve only insulted the guy once the whole episode

But we find that out because Rocky made his own because he actually found Lucy’s really cool, what a kid. So Lincoln gets the brothers over to his house by damaging the project himself then claming they need to go back and once he sees Lucy’s around has Rocky go into the kitchen to get them some sodas which he agrees to because why not.

So in a nice little change-up on the running gag Rocky shows up startling Lucy and we get a really fucking cute scene as they hash things out. They have a normal conversation, finally getting past their shared awkwardness, in part because he admits he prefers her as herself. As it turns out Rocky wasn’t scared.. he just thought she was too cool for him and felt intimidated and like Lucy had no idea what to say. The two then blush and after my heart melts and I freeze it back into shape in a few hours, the two decide to go look at her coffin collection and the next day proudly show off their perfected fake blood.. which destroys the project one more time. WAH WAH WAH. Oh rusty... I knew I could count on you to fuck up at least once.

Back in Black Final Thoughts: First off Black in Black: Weird Name. I mean it kinda gives the game away, not that fans would thikn horrifying mistake lucy would stick but still, and dosen’t really fit. Call it “Why Do Ghoul’s Fall in Love” or something like that or something related to makeovers. Makeover Mistep. Don’t Make Me Over. Makeover Your Case... okay that last one sounds more like the Legally Blond equilvent of Cobra Kai but the point is it’s just weird. Outside of the parts I already went in detail about why their dreadful.. this ep is pretty good. That one bit isn’t enough to derail the episode, merley take it’s goodness down a notch, and Lucy is genuinely fun to watch and her heartbreak is hard to watch, and Rocky was an engaging new character with lots of potetial. A large part of why I did this episode. is to ask WHY he hasn’t come back. Rusty’s now a major character, to the point he’s co-headlining an episode next week with Zach... why Zach’s getting an episode, a SECOND one at that I have no earthly idea but the point is the show’s getitng comfortable enought heir giving lincoln’s friends starring episodes without him too, as Liam got one , if alongside Lynn the power couple of 2021 I tells ya. My point is, besides when is Stella getting an episode dammit, that Rocky really should make a come back as he both provides another character for Rusty and the rest of the lincrew to bounce off of, and he and Lucy had genuine chemstiry and now she has her OWN cast there’s an easy story there about her friends reaction to her dating a non goth. There’s a lot of story potetial with this precious boy bring him back. But overall Pretty in Black is a decent episode, worth checking out if you haven’t seen it and rewatching even if you have.

Stage Plight: So we open with Luann, whose one of my personal faviorites along with Leni, Luna, and Lucy. Granted I haven’t checked out her yearly bouts of going ax crazy on her family yet, but we’ll see in april. But outside of that, which is easy enough to isee iven it’s three episodes out of 214 where she’s like this and she gets her compuance, I find her precious, awkward, and entertaining, from her habit of saying “Get it “ to her love of puns, to the fact she’s essentially a wholesome version of the batman villian the ventriloquist..

Yeah in case you forgot about this gag, she often talks through her dummy Mr. Coconuts.. who functions as her sounding board and helps her figure things out, talks like he’s from the 40′s or 50′s, and in general is a delight. He also once or twice, including this episode acts of his own free will so I don’t know if this is a Child’s Play situation and a dying comedian put his body in her dummy and she’s just rolling with it, if she somehow put a piece of her soul in a dummy or what the hell’s going on here. Compared to the series recently what with it’s mayoral campagins, children murdering guys, and actualy factual spies, this is mildly sane. MIldly. This may also be a serious and untreated case of Disociative Identnity Disorder, but given it’s not framed that way, and Coconuts just seems to be Luann’s way of talking with herself, for now she has’nt gone full vintriloquist. Thoguh givne her april fools day behavior and her profession as a comedian, she probably WILL become the new joker at a some point.

So the two are talking about Luann’s crush on Benny. Benny was introduced back in L is for Love and is one of the only three love interests there to actually return, and along with Sam the only onen to get multiple episodes about their relationship with their respective loud and a full personality. He was also MASSIVELY hated. For those who joined the fandom more recently, Luann was massively shipped with Maggie, an emo girl who showed up in Luann’s second spotlight episode and one where she didn’t torment her entire family, one I still need to see but have read about. It was pretty cute and nothing was wrong with that or the opposites attract dynamic. But said fans got REALLY and understandibly upset about his introduction and were presumibly none too happy he got to return and got his roll expanded. And I.. genuinely like the kid. I have nothing against Maggie and in fact poly ship her with both Luann and Benny, as both seem like they’d be open to that and her dour demanor creates a nice contrast between the chipper luann and the somewhat chipper but also chill benny in the middle. I just feel he’s a very likeable character, sweet and awkward and very much on Luann’s wavelength. Like Sam he’s SIMILAR to his love intrest, having Luann’s love of puns, mime and the theater, but is also not quite as giggly about it and as I said has a bit more of a chill to him, in contrast to how sam is slightly more energetic to Luna’s near constant calm off stage.

I also like him because he’s voiced by Sean Giabrone, an up and coming voice actor who I first met watching the Goldbergs as Adam. His other biggest role so far has been playing Jeff on Clarence, though he’s currently picked up another lead voice roll as Yumulack on Solar Opposites, easily one of the best parts of that show, and has done othe rminor and recurring work, but I feel he’s got the potetial to have a long and fruitful career in voice acting if he wants it. I mean he’s far from the first former ABC star or former Ron Stoppable to make a long and successful voice career of himself. Be the next will fredle man you can do it.

But yeah I like him and think their cute together and feel demonizing a ship for one that had a low chance of happening isn’t fair, especially when you know, we’re in a fandom where incest runs rampant and is STILL a recurring problem to this day. Pick your fucking battles for god’s sake. As I mentioned you can put maggie in with this relationship or Still ship luaggie regardless.

So back in the episode Luann and Coconuts notice Benny signing up for the school play and decide to join him.

Yeah i’ve noticed that a LOT of school set plots are about one of the mains joining a play to either be near or play romantic lead with their crush, or romantic hyjinks happening anyway. Seriously i’ts a lot. I DID think most of them were around romeo and juliet, and Proud Family, Pepper Anne, and Ned’s Declassified all are probably why, it’s actually way more diverse and i’m happy to give credit to shows and movies for that: Jimmy Neutron used Macbeth (IN SPACEEEEEE), American Dragon Jake Long used Antony and Cleopatra, as did the comic strip Foxtrot (That one I remembered), Daria used the canterbury tales, Arrested Development used Much Ado about Nothing, and one of my faviorite instances is the film Get Over it. It’s a cheesy as hell early 2000′s high school pg-13 comedy, that I loved as a teen and nos nostalgicaly love but am aware it has issues and some stitled acting as an adult where our hero joins the high school play in order to win his ex girlfriend back from the douchebag she’s seeing now and ends up falling for his best friend’s kid sister instead. They do a mid summer’ night’s dream, which is not only awesome SOMEONE thought to use that one , as the film has given me a special affection for the play.. but it’s a cheesy musical version written by the gloriously over acted director of the play played by martin short.

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My faviorite part of it is the boy band style number about Hermia. Yes really. And I didn’t even get into the fact Siquo is one of the main character’s best friends, Kristin Dunst had to reshoot a scene while making the first rami spider-man , our heroes weird parents who are sex therapists and have no real filter AND offer Coolio a threesome on their advice show, and yes the actual coolio and yes that was an actual person that existed, or best of all the douchey rival who stole our heroes girlfriend, whose not only a former boy band member whose band peformed the song love scud, but also threatens our hero with nunchucks at one point.

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Just see this movie.. i’ll hopefully talk about it some day.

Point is this kind of plot is stock.. but it’s the good kind you can do a lot of twists and turns with as every example mentioned, even the ones using the crush thing, had some clever twist or turn. And this one is no exception as we’ll see.

So we meet Ms. Berardo, the schools HAMMY as hell drama teacher who gives herself an entrance and is just wondrously entertaining throughout. She’s played by Grey Delise Griffin, which I could recognize immodestly and man does she bring it. Seriously bring her back. Wonderful character. So our heroine and her leading man audition and in a refreshing change of pace they do not get the lead rolls, instead a modern valley girl and a jock who writes his stuff on his arms do so instead. But since Bernado’s a bit nuts, she decides to have the Montagues and Capulets practice separately despite tha not making a ton of sense, to drive up tension and what not. I mean isolating an actor to drive up tension is a vallid technique but even having not read Romeo and Juliet since high school, over a decade ago, I can tell you they have several scenes together and this is a logistical nightmare. However our heroine finagles her way over to swapping camps so she can talk to Benny since honestly given the whole thing was a way to get to spend more time with him, she might as well quit otherwise. It also.. isn’t a bad tactic. She wants to know him before asking him out properly, which is fair and a good way to go, and they already know each other and are friendly, and it’s something she likes doing anyway as they were both involved with a play in his first appearance and her liking theater makes sense as she’s a comedian, and while she clearly prefers standup, it’s often a natural evolution to go fromt hat to acting in comedy stuff or making your own show, so it’s not a bad idea to learn that side of the buisness too.

So Luann FINALLY gets to talk to Benny.. after fast ball specialing mr coconuts in the way of someone trying to sit down

But we get a really cute moment as the two just.. talk like two dorky teenagers; They talk about the real mimes of la, which I want badly to be a show.. even if it’s just to find out what the Mime from Animaniacs is up to now. Where DID that guy go? Did the anvil finally kill him? These are the kinds of things that keep me up at night.. which is probably why I’m finishing this at 4 in the morning. But the two have genuine chemistry with Luann offering him her banana, phrasing, and making a pun he chuckles at. It’s adorable as all hell.

And Bernardo notices, and since her leads have no sparks she regretfully demotes them.. though their reaction is hilariously realistic as both are just happy to have less lines and walk off. She decides to cast Luann and Benny despite being freshman which would never happen but eh this is a unvierse with a snakebird and spies trying to destroy cherries with a death laser why I do I care two seasons later if two freshman got the leads in the play. Still I love the twist: our hero wasn’t trying to get the lead to creeiply force intamacy or anything.. the two just had natural chemistry and the director noticed that and wants to use it.

But while this should be great.. it isn’t as Luann keeps dodging actually kissing Benny when they rehearse the kiss. The reason.. is really frigging endearing. Luann simply hasn’t kissed anyone before, this will be her first.. and naturally she’s REALLY nervous about having it in front of a crowd or Benny thinking she’s a bad kisser. And I mean... while I had no personal experience at that age in kissing, most media and personal accounts detail it as awkward as fuck. But that’s the irony: she dosen’t KNOW it’s always awkward and thus is putting a ton of pressure on herself like anyone her age.

So she breaks under the pressure despite the reasurances of her Dummy/Possible Sign that she needs therapy and while she finds a way out the next Day Benny has aburbtly quit because of “chess club”.. which he’s not in. Luann finds him and talks to him about it, worried it’s her fault.. and she’s right, though Benny bowed out because she clearly wasn’t comfortable with him and didn’t want to make her kiss him when she clearly wasn’t comfortable with it. What a man what a man what a mighty good man. Luann TRIES to explain.. and then lets Mr Coconuts do it. Which usually in high school would lead to humilating rejection. instead Benny brings out his own puppet Mrs. Appleblossom.

Just those eyes.. black and souless.. like a doll’s eyes.. because htey are a doll’s eyes. So yeah Benny also has a puppet he uses to say the things he’s too nervous to say. Which is endearing even if again , KILL IT. KILL IT. I mean i’ts like tha tone guy from victorious if the puppets were actually charming and one of them looked like it was about to play hide the soul. Mrs. Appleblossom explains that Benny is also nervous and with the air cleared and the two realizing theyw ere nervous about the same thing... the inevitible happens

So that fades into the kiss happening on stage, with Luann’s family cheering her, our heroes take a fookin bow and Coconuts and Appleblossom look on.. and talk somehow...and somehow got in the seats on their own.

Stage Plight Final Thoughts: This episode.. is one of the series best, with great pacing, a low amount of repetition and a relatable conflict, while building up Luann’s love intrest to be a wonderful and engaging guy, and giving us a hell of a guest character and Mrs. Gerardo. This episod eis great, the chemistyr between Gambrone and Pucelli is fantastic. This one is just awesome and worth a look especially if the ship contrversy had hit you hard. It really is good. And there’s always room for benny. Until the next rainbow it’s been a pleasure.

#the loud house #lucy loud #luann loud #benny stein #lori loud #leni loud #lola loud #lincoln loud #rusty spokes #rocky spokes #valentine's day #animation #nickelodeon

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grandhotelabyss · 4 years ago

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A little fin-de-siècle music for your audiovisual Monday. The British music magazine Q once described Portishead’s Dummy as “music to drown yourself to,” which compelled me to run out and buy the CD back when I was 16. I draw this trip-hop dirge out of the archive because I am making the absolute last revision of my as-yet unpublished novel, The Class of 2000.

I’ve been writing and revising the work since May of 2015, which is absurd considering that I wrote Portraits and Ashes, a longer novel, in five months and revised it very little. Portraits and Ashes came to me as an overwhelming dream, whereas I slowly pieced The Class of 2000 together like a mosaic out of my memories. I wanted to write a realist novel; I wanted to write about the landscape of my youth; I wanted people to feel now what it felt like then. About 75% of what happens in The Class of 2000 happened to real people I knew in my childhood or adolescence—except that in the novel it all happens to a small cast of characters in only a few months, which creates, I hope, the air of realism at its very limit, at its burning edge.

Since the novel is set very definitively in the late ’90s, I did put a few songs in. I usually don’t do this or enjoy it when other writers do. I hesitate to put a song in the reader’s head when my prose should be the only audible music. But for a period piece, evoking the music of the era legitimately adds to the overall texture. “It’s a Fire” plays at the novel’s blazing climax.

(Why do my novels always end with everybody drowning or almost drowning, or burning, or almost burning, to death? As I replied to a similar self-interrogation about why my books and stories always feature mutilated female intellectuals—The Class of 2000 has a bisexual philosopher-witch with a below-the-knee amputation—ask Herr Doktor Jung. I just write what I see and hear in my head. As for “the responsibility of the writer,” it’s an overrated and even dangerous Soviet type of notion, no matter what kids right here on Tumblr told you back in 2013. My responsibility is to write the most fun, crazy, brilliant books I can. And why not? I assume my dreams come from the same place yours do.)

“It’s a Fire,” ironically, has lyrics more appropriate to my pandemic novella The Quarantine of St. Sebastian House:

’Cause this life is a farce I can't breathe through this mask Like a fool So breathe on, little sister, breathe on Ah, so breathe on, little sister, like a fool

Yet I feel an urgency to publish The Class of 2000 precisely as the pandemic recedes from our consciousness; I don’t want my most recent book, no matter how timeless-untimely I made it, to be ripped from last year’s headlines. Still, watching the deluge of Covid books spill out of the corporate publishers, I am gladder than you can imagine that I wrote mine to the anxious minute and published it when the feelings were still completely raw, over a year ago. And the truth about the virus gradually coming to light shames even my melodramatist’s imagination, as the sainted national physician appears more and more akin to his near-namesake, Faust. I loathed that smiling man by instinct the second I first laid eyes on him; but it’s time to move on, in literature if not in life.

The last book was hypercontemporary—I literally folded the day’s news into each chapter—but the new one asks, How did we get here, anyway? To recount that story, we have to go back to the end of history, to the lurid autumn of 1999 in an American suburb about to explode with all its concealed violence, as its visionaries look forward to a millennium of permanent peace and plenty in cyberspace. The virtual comes alive as the real goes up in a millennial conflagration.

Should I submit The Class of 2000 to a few small presses? I may. If anyone reading this wants to publish it, please get in touch (johnppistelli at gmail dot com). People do buy my books, and more people would buy them if we had an advertising budget to work with, so you wouldn’t be wasting your time. I preemptively posted the most cancellable chapter here, so you’ll want to read that before taking a chance on anything that could attract the social-media Red Guard’s annihilating attention. If not, I will, as ever, do it myself, like the aforementioned Walt Whitman before me. If it’s good enough for Walt—

Look for it in late summer or early autumn.

#literature #fiction #creative writing #portishead #fiction writing

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daggerzine · 4 years ago

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Sunday Runners.....the Corvair interview.

The music of Corvair fell into my hands recently thanks to Heather Larimer, who makes up one half of the band. The Portland duo, comprised of Larimer and her husband Brian Naubert (and drummer Eric Eagle for the recordings) haven’t been around for too long but being together a lot the past year or so gave them plenty of time to work on songs. I was a big fan of Larimer’s previous band, Eux Autres, and wondered if they were still around (see the first question) so was anxious to hear Corvair. I really liked what I heard. A healthy dose of all things 1970’s, 80’s and 90’s and not quite new wave, note quite indie rock but 100% deluxe. The S/T record, which was released in February, was a co-release between their own label and WIAIWYA label in the UK. Read on and find out the history of the band, where they’ve been and where they’re headed. Oh and make sure you listen to their music.

Heather and Brian and Brian and Heather

Tell us about the end of Eux Autres. Why did that band end?

It actually has not officially ended. While Sun is Sunk was coming out, we left SF because it felt like that city as we knew it was dying—all the artists we knew were moving out, and I moved back to Portland and Nick to LA. Then I had a baby and then Nick had a baby and then soon we each had another baby. With 4 little kids among us, it became really hard to fly back and forth to work on new material. We tried it for a couple years and then one day we calculated that at our pace, the record we were making would take 5 years. So we just kind of gave each other permission to prioritize other projects. Nick is working on some songs I truly love right now. They’re a real gut punch.

…and about the beginning of Corvair. How/when did the band form?

We had known each other for many years and then we got married three-ish years ago and suddenly neither of us had other musical projects going on. So we kind of shrugged and said, what if we worked together? We would sing in the car or while cooking or whatever so we knew our voices sounded great together. Then it was just a matter of figuring out what sort of project it would be. We went into the studio with a session drummer (Eric Eagle) in late 2019 and then a few months later, the pandemic suddenly gave as a LOT of time to make progress on the tracks. So the creative center of the record was defined in a weird apocalyptic bubble. But it was helpful to have that break with reality as we knew it, because we’ve both made a lot of records, and I suppose that could have somehow blunted our ambition or our edges. But we just hit the “fuck it” button and gave ourselves over to it completely. We were very nervous to mix, because no one else in the world had heard it, and we thought it was great, but we also could have been in a shared hallucination. Really, we’d be the last to know.

The debut....

Who came up with the name? I have always loved those cars.

Brian’s mom drove a Corvair with a hole in the floor. They would drive it on the special outings to the beach, the weekend adventures. So it was a very romantic car, and the name is just very nice to say. It makes you feel good. Both of us had been in bands with names that were a nightmare to tell someone in a crowded club, or really anywhere (Eux Autres and Ruston Mire). You’d have to repeat it 3 times, then explain it, and then they just kind of shrug with pity. We vowed to have a band name anyone could understand the first time.

Did the WIAIWYA label approach you about releasing the record (or co-releasing it)?

John had approached Eux Autres right after our second record and so we did an EP (Strangled Days) with him and then we were on his label ever since. Late last summer, I posted a picture of Brian and I holding the CD Master on my Instagram and John said, what the hell is this? And then I emailed him the record and he wrote right back: “It’s RAD Heather!” I’m not sure if he was making fun of me by saying “rad”--probably, actually. I think I used to say it a lot. But he immediately wanted to put out the record. Nick and I had some really great times in the UK and Europe thanks to John and he has a very devoted audience, so Corvair felt it was a great fit for us.

Is the Pink Room your own studio?

Yes, it is literally a room in our house that is pink. Brian has been making records at home for most of his life, since he was about 14. And despite having done fancier stuff like making studio demos for Columbia several times and recording with Peter Buck in a nice place, he really prefers to work at home because he likes to spend a ton of time on overdubs—they’re not even really “overdubs,” more like a second wave of writing for him. And I had found being in the studio very stressful in the past because I’m not a technically proficient musician and that makes me self-conscious. So I was grateful to be in the privacy of my own home, in my soft pants.

Single from last year

Did the songs on the album come fairly easily or did you feel like you labored over them?

The initial writing of them came very easily and fast. Brian did a couple of 30 day writing challenges where he wrote several songs a day. But then once we laid down the basic tracks, we spent a ton of time building them and experimenting with them. We actually recorded probably twice as many parts as we ended up using. And half of what we did in the mix was kill things. In fact, we cut five totally finished songs from the record.

Tell us about making those videos? Were you freezing?

Consistently very very cold, yes. Ironically, the one in the snow (Green Mean Time) was the warmest because we were properly dressed. But the ocean ones were just brutal. Especially Sunday Runner. The video was Brian’s idea, he had a very specific vision and made it sound all easy: OK, just go down to the beach and dance for 90 seconds. And I was like, huh?!? And then I kept falling down and got absolutely soaked to the bone. When we finished shooting, I couldn’t feel my hands or feet and he was steering me down the beach with his coat wrapped around me and these little kids were staring horrified, like, Mom what’s wrong with that lady?

Prior to the pandemic had you played out live much? Done any tours?

We have never ever played live as Corvair. Which is just wild. We will likely be recording this next album before we even have a line-up for performing. But we are very excited to play together. Likely this fall. Hopefully John will bring us to England soon so we will have a great excuse to get it together.

What are your top 10 desert island discs?

Brian:

David Bowie - Ziggy Stardust

David Bowie - Low

Nada Surf - Let Go

Brian Eno - Another Green World

Pink Floyd - Dark Side of The Moon (yeah I know, but I don’t care)

Heather:

GBV - Alien Lanes

Kinks - Village Green

Elliott Smith - Either/Or

Radiohead - Kid A

Ruston Mire - Steady Jobs and Flying Cars

Who are some of your favorite current bands, local otherwise?

HL: I’m interested in the Dry Cleaning juggernaut. And I really dig Deep Sea Diver, Cloud Nothings, Courtney Barnett, Big Thief/Lenker. And then, I’m also very ready to embrace a new angry band whose music makes you think your stereo is broken when you play it--I’m taking suggestions.

BN: Alt J, Elbow, Doves, Metric, Foals, Snail Mail

What’s next for the band?

HL: We are recording this summer and trying to put some sort of live outfit together ASAP. Trying to stay out of the ocean for a while.

Closing comments? Words of wisdom? Final thoughts?

Thank you so much for having us!

www.corvair.bandcamp.com

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randomvarious · 4 years ago

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Moby - “Bodyrock” Crossing All Over! Volume 10 1999 Big Beat

You all know who Moby is. He’s one of the most successful, talented, and eclectic electronic music producers of his generation. He’s the American who made big beat and sample-laden dance tracks achieve popularity in the US at the turn of the century. He’s an electronic music chameleon; he’s techno, he’s downtempo, he’s big beat, he’s ambient, and he’s even punk and alternative rock. He’s had a long, storied career, with plenty of hits and questionable decisions that have resulted in some really high highs and equally really low lows.

By the time Moby released his fifth album, Play, which ended up becoming considered by many critics to be one of the greatest albums ever recorded in the history of music, he thought it was his final album. Just four years prior, he had released the critically acclaimed Everything Is Wrong, which Spin named its album of the year. He ended up selling a respectable 250,000 copies of the record worldwide, but for the amount of praise it received, and for being on a major label (Elektra), it was a mediocre showing. From jump, that appeared to be Moby’s curse, as it was for most electronic talents: good music, but bad sales; a niche market conquered, but little else beyond that.

Whatever likability Moby had accrued since the UK success of his 1991 techno track, “Go,” which sampled music from Twin Peaks, nearly disintegrated into thin air with the release of his fourth album, 1996′s Animal Rights, which saw him ditching dance music for a blend of alternative rock, hardcore punk, and ambient music. Fans and critics both hated this turn and washed their hands of him almost entirely. It appeared that everyone was just about done with Moby, and that Moby was just about done with himself. Animal Rights turned out to be an album that brought him within an inch of career suicide.

But by 1999, he had decided to go back to dance and electronic music and the result was Play. However, no one seemed to want to give Play any play at all. Moby shopped it to a number of big record labels, but at that point he was regarded as a has-been; a guy who’d run out of good fortune because of his uncompromising strong will and his insufferable need to be an artist. But Richard Branson’s V2 label, which was only three years old at the time, decided to take a chance on it.

From a quote in Rolling Stone:

First show that I did on the tour for Play was in the basement of the Virgin Megastore in Union Square. Literally playing music while people were waiting in line buying CDs. Maybe forty people came.

Most of the critics adored Play and saw it as a work of contemporary creative genius; a real mover-of-the-sticks kind of album. No one, at least no American, had ever made an album quite like it before. It was uptempo, it was downtempo, it had blues samples, it had breakbeats, it was more than danceable, and it was also quite emotional and vulnerable. It was an amalgamation of a lot of different things, and it was a beautiful representative mess of the post-modern, recently-formed digital age, which, at the time, appeared to be bringing the world closer together than it had ever been before, at least from a cultural standpoint. It was music that had a little something for just about everyone. But that was what initially appeared to have ben its fatal flaw, too. See, Play didn’t fit into any pre-defined, carefully crafted, easily marketable categories; It wasn’t rock, it wasn’t pop, it wasn’t hip hop, and it wasn’t R&B. So radio and MTV passed on every song. The album certainly had no home in America, and it didn’t sell all that well in the UK either.

So Moby decided to sell the album out, literally. He licensed every single song off of Play for commercials, TV, movies, and video games, which were all industries that were more receptive to the varied sounds of the album. People would be exposed to Play through other indirect and less conventional means. And with every track licensed and songs appearing in nearly every medium that had audio, except for radio and MTV, Play, almost a year after its release, started to finally gain some commercial traction.

Here’s an illuminating Moby quote from that same Rolling Stone article:

Almost a year after it came out in 2000 I was opening up for Bush on an MTV Campus Invasion Tour. It was degrading for the most part. Their audience had less than no interest in me. February in 2000, I was in Minnesota, I was depressed and my manager called me to tell me that Play was number one in the UK, and had beat out Santana's Supernatural. I was like, :But the record came out 10 months ago.” That's when I knew, all of a sudden, that things were different. Then it was number one in France, in Australia, in Germany—it just kept piling on. [...] The week Play was released, it sold, worldwide around 6,000 copies. Eleven months after Play was released, it was selling 150,000 copies a week. I was on tour constantly, drunk pretty much the entire time and it was just a blur. And then all of a sudden movie stars started coming to my concerts and I started getting invited to fancy parties and suddenly the journalists who wouldn't return my publicist's calls were talking about doing cover stories. It was a really odd phenomenon.

Play only peaked at #38 on the Billboard 200, but it sold two million copies in the States alone. It was on charts across the world for several fucking years. And it finally brought dance music to the American mainstream.

There were two songs that almost didn’t make it onto Play though: “Porcelain,” which Moby hated, and “Bodyrock,” which Moby’s two managers hated. His managers complained that “Bodyrock” was a total ripoff of Fatboy Slim, which...fair..., and that it was tacky. But Moby wanted to keep it on there. He had sampled a classic hip hop song by Spoonie Gee and the Treacherous Three for it called “Love Rap,” which held sentimental value for him, and is the only vocal sample on the song (”Non-stop y’all, to the beat y’all, the body rock y’all...”).

At the top of this post, I called Moby an electronic music chameleon, and “Bodyrock” is the song that saw him almost seamlessly morphing into a god of the big beat sound, somehow briefly placing himself among the ranks of The Prodigy, The Chemical Brothers, and of course, the aforementioned Fatboy Slim. And he managed to do it with just one fucking song. For “Bodyrock,” Moby basically took all the things that got those three big beat acts constantly lumped into the same category, as well as all the things that made them stand apart from each other, and then he mortared-and-pestled it all to death, reducing it all into a fine powder that he could re-arrange and re-apply into his own stunning creation.

“Bodyrock” is a song that’s layered wonderfully and fuses sounds from many different instruments and genres to make something that’s intense as hell, especially for a mainstream audience, but still highly enjoyable. It’s a perfect fusion of rock, hip hop, and dance music, all packaged together into one, solidly cranking song.

Moby starts with the drum-and-vocal sample from Spoonie Gee and The Treacherous Three and then adds two layers of guitars, one with an acidified, throttling, crunchy funkiness, a la Fatboy Slim, that’s inspired by Gang of Four’s 1981 track, “What We All Want,” and one with a thin and whining kind of wah that’s also a bit funky, and which later on becomes an integral part of the chorus. Then Moby infuses the track with some hardness, with heavy drums and bass, as well as hand-claps. Rapper Nikki D, who released an album on Def Jam in 1991, then proceeds to appear out of nowhere for the chorus, pretty clearly trying to sound like MC Lyte’s nearly-forgotten 1996 jam, “Cold Rock a Party”. And along with Ms. D comes the most important piece of the recipe, the bow and ribbon that ties the whole song together, the streaming and high-pitched cinematic strings, which replace the Gang of Four-styled guitar, and are underlaid with a rumbling, motoring, thick bassline that also plays along to the string melody itself.

Two unique and brief pieces then come later on, one that sounds like a combination of clean and dirty aquatics, with a brief, pleasant keyboard melody that sounds submerged in water, but still near the surface, and a swampy and swishy, mud-in-your-galoshes type of rhythm beneath it. Then, before the song’s final push, the other brief piece appears, which sounds like those frequencies you might hear from a hearing test machine, laced with Nikki D’s vocals, the drum break from Spoonie Gee and The Treacherous Three, and some bounding bass.

To close out the masterpiece, Moby lets the chorus ride, and then adds the “Love Rap” vocal back in. You’d think playing two vocals concurrently would clash and make the song unlistenable at that point, but somehow, they don’t. They happen to work really well, and when played together along with everything else, they yield the most intense and enjoyable part of the song.

Play ended up having a total of twelve music videos and a quarter of them were for “Bodyrock”. The first two have a similar theme of British guys, all of whom except for one are white, dancing terribly, but also passionately:

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The second one features a car explosion at the end!:

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And the third one, which has a Run-D.M.C. cameo (!), shows Moby donning special sunglasses that allow him to see talented dancers everywhere:

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Even almost a year after Play was released, it appeared that it was going to be Moby’s swan song and the death of his career. But the decision to license changed all of that, and if ever there was some kind of universal music award for “comeback artist of the year,” Moby would have absolutely won that thing. But in the immortal words of LL Cool J, “don’t call it a comeback,” because while the original best hope for Play was to return to the similar sales and critical appeal of Everything Is Wrong, it managed to far exceed that wishful and shortsighted forecast. Moby was comeback artist of the year and damn near MVP also. It was a wild, totally unexpected, and fantastic turn of events for his career and wellbeing. He almost stopped making music, but now he can’t stop making music. He released an album just this year.

I wholeheartedly agree with the critics who list Play as one of the greatest albums ever made. Not only is it fucking tremendous on its own, but It marked a much-needed turning point for Moby’s career, which undoubtedly kept him going, and still keeps him going today. And one of the many amazing songs on that album that makes Play what it is, is that consummate, brief bit of big beat greatness, that banger of a cut that almost didn’t make it onto the album, the one and only “Bodyrock”; a song that still manages to bop as hard as it did when it originally came out 20-plus years ago.

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years ago

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Crimmis chat log #1, 12/24

Alastor and @hiss-and-vinegar have a conversation following up on their phone call a few days ago. It turns into an argument but then it de-arguments and it’s sweet. Gifts are exchanged. Nog is had.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 ARE YOU ABLE TO RECEIVE THESE AGAIN?

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Yes, hello hello! I'm back in business!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 THAT WAS QUITE A BIT YOU DID THERE TO PURSUADE VAGGIE! I COULDN'T HELP BUT GRIN BEHIND MY HAND AS I READ THROUGH IT.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I can only hope it was more entertaining for you than it was embarrassing for me! Hah! But it's over and done with now.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 WELL I'M GLAD FOR IT ANYWAY. CALLING SEEMED TO NOT WORK OUT BETWEEN US, DID IT?

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Didn't it? I suppose only being able to reach me while I'm at the hotel is a restriction—but it's still a problem now, I'm just on the hotel computer instead of the hotel phone. But I'll be wireless again soon!

🎶 And in the meantime, yelling into the nearest radio still works!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I DON'T REALLY WANT TO YELL INTO A RADIO.. IS THAT PRIVATE???

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Unless there's another Radio Demon running around who hasn't admitted they're copying my skill set! Most radios, you see, aren't designed to transmit! They work as ears for me and me alone.

🎶 On an unrelated note, what does G2G mean?

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 THERE ARE SO MANY OF YOU RUNNING AROUND, I'D HATE TO CATCH THE WRONG ONE... BUT SINCE THE TELLY PHONE DIDN'T WORK OUT AND MY LETTERS ARE TOO STUFFY, THEN PERHAPS IT'S ALL I CAN DO.

🐍 GO TO GOD? GET TO GOING?

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 What was wrong with the telly phone, did the hotel have a bad connection? I'll give you my number when I get a replacement.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Hm! Maybe "get to going"! I don't know. You should ask whichever one of your eggs just sent me a few unauthorized messages, I'm sure it would know.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 WHAT

🐍 I'LL DEAL WITH IT LATER........

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 OwwO

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 AS FOR THE CONVERSATION, I GET THE FEELING THAT YOU DID NOT WANT TO TALK TO ME AFTER ALL. IT FELT VERY STIFF, TENSE. I MUST HAVE DONE SOMETHING WRONG BUT I COULDN'T FIGURE OUT WHAT IT WAS.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 What? No! No no no, I was—pleased. To hear from you.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 WERE YOU?

🐍 IT WAS FUN JOKING WITH YOU, I ENJOYED IT, BUT. IT FELT LIKE YOU DIDN'T WANT TO TELL ME ANYTHING.

🐍 USUALLY YOU TALK SO MUCH!!

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Oh. No, I just... I suppose I didn’t think of enough to say in time. And you got off the line so soon.

🎶 I would have stayed on another hour if you had.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I ASKED IF THERE WAS ANYTHING ELSE!

🐍 IF YOU WANTED TO SPEAK LONGER, THEN SSSPEAK UP!!

🐍 VAGGIE MENTIONED YOU LOOKING AWFUL AFTER THE CALL, AND DURING IT, IT FELT LIKE YOU COULDN'T WAIT FOR ME TO HANG UP

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 You said you were getting off unless I had something else. That’s not a “do you want to keep talking,” that’s an “I need to go, last call for any important business you need to share first.” And I didn’t have anything important to share. You wanted to go, I wasn’t going to ask you to stay just for the sake of staying.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 WELL EXCUSE ME FOR NOT KNOWING THE INS AND OUTS OF PERFECT CONVERSATION, ALASTOR. I CALLED YOU! WHY WOULDN'T I WANT TO TALK?!

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Vaggie talks too much. And I—don’t know why it felt like that. It shouldn’t have.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I don’t know, when you got off so soon I thought you’d called to ask about my singing and then make small talk just long enough to be polite. I figured you had other things to do.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I THINK YOU SPEND TOO LONG DECIDING WHAT I'M DOING AND NOT ENOUGH TIME ACTUALLY GETTING MY SIDE OF THINGS!!

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 WHY BOTHER CHATTING WITH ME AT ALL? YOU ALREADY HAVE THE WHOLE THING SCRIPTED OUT I GUESS!

🐍 NO NEED FOR MY SIDE OF THINGS!!!

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 You decided I couldn’t wait for you to hang up without getting my side of things.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 WELL FUCK ME I GUESS.

🐍 FINE.

🐍 I'M JUST MAKING THIS WORSE!

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Don’t—don’t. I’m not trying to accuse you, here, I’m just—

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I’m sure you didn’t think you were deciding for me, did you? You thought you were picking up the signals I was sending! Why would you ask me to say “hey there, my friend, I don’t actually want to talk to you!” out loud if, from where you were sitting, I’d already said it plenty of other ways? Of course you didn’t ask me.

🎶 Of course I didn’t ask you.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 I'M NOT GIVING OUT ANY SIGNALS!

🐍 I'M TELLING YOU, THIS IS ME TELLING YOU, THAT I LIKE TALKING TO YOU AND I WANT TO TALK TO YOU

🐍 THOUGH AT THE MOMENT I AM RATHER WORKED UP AND AM GOING TO TAKE A BREATHER

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 All right.

🎶 I’ll be here.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 CAN'T WE JUST MEET?

🐍 IN PERSON.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 Of course. Name the place.

hiss-and-vinegar

🐍 MY ROOM AT THE HOTEL, UNLESS YOU'RE BUSY.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I’ll be right there.

Alastor

Sir Pentious said meet in his hotel room, Alastor is in his hotel room. Immediately. Just teleports straight in.

He’s the only one here.

And the room’s dark.

Oh. Okay. He... sits on the bed to wait.

Sir Pentious

The hotel doors open with Sir Pentious slithering in, past the concierge and going up several floors until he came upon his room.

Unlocking it, he enters in to see Alastor's glowing face, and his hood FLOOPS out in surprise.

"FOR GODSSAKESSSS MAN, YOU SSSSTARTLED ME." Grab the lights...

Alastor

He stands the moment the door opens. “Oh, good, you’re—sorry about that—I forgot to ask how long you’d be! I was starting to worry I’d come up to soon and missed some follow-up message.” Weak laugh. Yeah he just, kind of, sat in the dark the whole time, full of dread.

Sir Pentious

A little bit of a look away, he's slithering his entire body into the room before he's even able to close the door.

Once that is done, he comes on over into Alastor's personal space, and offers both of his hands, palms up.

Alastor

Alastor stands there stiffly, hands clasped behind his back, as Sir Pentious comes into the room.

Until Sir Pentious offers his hands. Alastor freezes for a split second, then immediately bolts forward to hug Sir Pentious.

And just as quickly jerks back. “Wait! No, wrong, that wasn’t what you—!” He takes Sir Pentious’s hands. “This! I’m sorry, that was—“ HUFF. “Sorry.”

Sir Pentious

His hood floops again, startled once more by the JERKING sudden movements...

A journey of the face is had as Penny attempts to understand what must be going through Alastor's mind. Well, he wanted a hug, right? Then that's what they'd do!

Squeezing those hands and then pulling him into a *tight* hug.

Alastor

Oh! Okay. ... Okay.

He hugs back, then tightens his hug. Then *melts.*

Sir Pentious

Penny holds fast, but he's not that tense... Well a little tense. He figures he ought to speak before assumptions are made.

"ARE WE OKAY?"

Alastor

"Of course! Of course we are." The suggestion that they might *not* be is enough to get him to hold tighter. "We both misinterpreted a few innocent comments, that's all. It's nothing we can't talk out."

Sir Pentious

A slow nod.... He can't shake the feeling...

"HAVE YOU REALLY SSSTOPPED SSSINGING AS MUCH? I KNOW WE TALKED ABOUT IT BUT...." Frown... Worry...

Alastor

"I honestly never thought about it until you asked." He sighs. "If I'm trying to recall—yes, I think I might have? But it's not... I wouldn't have even noticed myself if you hadn't brought it up."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious sighs as well, putting his head on Alastor's. Flomp.

"VAGGIE ISS CLEARLY TRYING TO MENACE ME INTO WORRYING ABOUT YOU, I'M SURE OF IT."

Alastor

"Vaggie enjoys making unflattering posts about me." He sounds VERY disapproving.

Oh, comfy. He closes his eyes and presses his face against Sir Pentious. "... Her perspective's probably skewed." He's half mumbling. "I know I'd been playing more than usual these last few weeks. She pointed that out, too."

Sir Pentious

"I'LL.... I'M SORRY FOR NOT BELIEVING YOU. I GET SSSO USED TO THINKING PEOPLE ARE LYING TO ME, THAT I GO WITH MY GUT." Another sigh, "AND MADE ANOTHER MESSSSS OF THINGSSSSS."

Alastor

"She's probably right. It just... hasn't been on my mind." Weak shrug. "It's fine now, isn't it?" They've been hugging for SEVERAL minutes straight. Alastor's hard pressed to think of anything more fine than that.

Sir Pentious

A slow nod... Penny's not interested in letting go. Letting go means they go back to talking, and talking means he's gonna give off signals and Alastor is going to give off signals.

But that's just panic, isn't it? He sits in his coil, and straightens Al's bowtie.

"YESS, I BELIEVE SSSO."

Alastor

“Good.” Then he’s going to just, stay here. As long as he’s allowed to.

Sir Pentious

After a few more moments... He reaches into his jacket to pull out something wrapped up. Distinctively bottle shaped.

"HERE, ALASSSTOR. FOR THAT OBSSSSCURE GIFT GIVING HOLIDAY."

Alastor

Startled flinch! “Oh—damn, I haven’t wrapped yours yet!” He opens a portal, tugs out a bookstore bag, fishes out a book—“That one’s mine.”—and offers the bag to Sir Pentious. “Here! Pretend it’s wrapped.”

Sir Pentious

OH-- Pentious is also startled. All of his eyes are 👀!! Hmmm... book? No, not for him. Tongue flick as he takes the bag into his hands and peeks inside...

Alastor

Inside are two DVDs—a musical and an old black-and-white movie—a CD, a historical fiction novel, and... a volume of manga.

“Remember a couple months ago when you asked if any musicals or films were made about you, and I offered to find some from my universe. Well, I finally made a trip to the mortal realm! Obviously they’re not about *you* you, but, you know, it’s all fictionalized anyway! Look!” He points at the manga. “Absolutely no historical accuracy by *any* universe’s standards in this one, it has you raised from the dead to attempt to take over Japan in the 2050s! Heaven only knows *why,* but I thought it was funny! And they give you a person-shaped robot to stomp around in!”

Sir Pentious

..... OH.....

*OH...!* His eyes are ENORMOUS as he regards the presents... Stuff... stuff for him about him. Not *him* him but it was clearly... Sir Pentious, Supervillain Original! HE LOOKS AT ALASTOR WITH THE MOST WRIGGLY OF SMILES AND THE HUGEST, GHIBLIEST TEARS.

Alastor

Alastor’s smile turns a little self-conscious. “I take it you like them?”

Sir Pentious

Guess who's getting ANOTHER tight hug? Alastor. Also, with added. COILING. *SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE.*

Alastor

If he gets out of this with all his bones in one piece, it’ll be a miracle. He hugs back tightly, beaming. “... Let me read the comic book sometime, I’m honestly curious about where they go with it.”

Sir Pentious

Big cobra purrs. He pulls out a handkerchief to wipe his tears AND blow his nose into it. PHOOOOOOOOOOOFFFF. A nod.... "YESS, YESS OF COURSSSSSE. OH, I WASS OVERCOME WITH INTENSSSSE EMOTION!! YOU CAN'T POSSSSIBLY UNDERSSSSSTAND HOW MUCH IT *HURTSSSS* TO NOT BE REMEMBERED OR, OR TO BE UNRECOGNIZED..."

Alastor

Oh—that’s a sentiment that hurts. “I’ve got a little bit of an idea.” Sympathetic back pat. “It’s not quite the same thing, but—over here, nobody’s forgotten you. I can promise you that.”

Sir Pentious

Sniff. "THAT'SSS GOOD TO KNOW... I THINK EVERYONE IN HELL ISSSS JUSSSST TIRED OF ME AT THISSS POINT." He rubs his eyes, "TIRED OF HEARING MY GRANDIOSSSSE SSTORIESSSS. JUSST DISSSMISSED AS SSSSENILE *GRANDPA*." More eye rubbing, "BUT YOU BROUGHT ME SSSOMETHING VERY NICE. THANK YOU."

Alastor

*Oh.* That hurts in a different way. “You know *I’m* not tired of you, right? I could never get tired of you.”

Sir Pentious

Penny nods and hugs tight. "I KNOW YOU ARE NOT! YOU'RE ABOUT THE ONLY ALASSSSTOR THAT LIKESSS ME!" A deep inhale, and his head rests on Al's again. "YOU'RE THE ONLY ALASSSTOR I LIKE, TOO. I LIKE TALKING TO YOU AND I DON'T EVER GET THE FEELING THAT YOU ARE JUSSSST HUMORING ME."

Alastor

“Because I’m not! You are, bar none, the most fascinating man I know.” They’re getting cozy again. Nice. “And I’m damn lucky you let me stick around.”

Sir Pentious

Tongue flick.... cobra breathing.... He constricts Alastor a little tighter. Enrichment. Sir Pentious bumps his head clumsily with Alastor's, though it's affectionate regardless. "WELL, I APPRECIATE IT. I'VE GOTTEN TERRIBLY USED TO YOU, I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HANDLE IT IF YOU DIDN'T SSSSTICK AROUND."

Alastor

Head bump! “Then I’ll just have to keep pestering you, won’t I?”

Sir Pentious

Prrrp.

"ARE YOU GOING TO OPEN THE GIFT I GOT YOU......"

Alastor

“OH! Yes! Right!” He pulls back and looks around for the wrapped bottle-something, where did that go?

Sir Pentious

Buwop. Penny is just watching him like. Cmon. He's gonna check around, too, but without moving...... and also not constricting Alastor as hard.

Alastor

There! He picks it up and eagerly unwraps it.

Sir Pentious

It's a bottle of Habushu! The same drink they shared on their second get together. The dead snake inside has kept very well. Sir Pentious is smiling brightly, hands behind his back as he watches. *Please don't give it back to me,*

Alastor

Well! Doesn’t that look familiar! And a much more welcome sight than the last time he saw it. His smile’s so bright it’s practically glowing. “I hope you know I’m never going to drink this! This one’s for *keeping.*”

Sir Pentious

"WHAT?? YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DRINK IT???" Blink blink!!

Alastor

“I can drink another. This here is a beautifully preserved snake arranged prettily in a bottle—and a Christmas gift, to boot!” He taps a claw on the glass, “This one’s getting displayed!”

Sir Pentious

HMMM..... He taps his cheek in thought. It *did* look pretty for that, and the snake wasn't going to decompose.... A nod.

"ALRIGHT, I SSSSUPPOSE IT ISSSS RATHER, AS THE KIDSSSS SAY, DOPE. THEN! WHAT OUGHT WE TO DRINK FOR OUR VISITATION?"

Alastor

A pause to think. “Eggnog would be fitting!”

Sir Pentious

Oh! Look at that SMILE! Why, he's practically BEAMING! "EGG MILK PUNCH? OR WITHOUT THE PUNCH? NYA HA!"

Alastor

"It'll have to be light on the punch—I've got to spend most of the night cooking, I can't be out of commission!"

Sir Pentious

"AH, YESSS, I SHOULDN'T GET BLASTED EITHER... VALERA WOULD NOT BE IMPRESSED." Sheepish. He's gonna move to sit on the couch. "EGG MILK IT ISSS!"

Alastor

He teleports in some premade eggnog and a bottle of rum—all the better to mix it to their specifications—and plops down on the couch. “Here!” Sir Pentious is given the containers so Alastor’s hands are free to summon up a couple of glasses.

Sir Pentious

He is holding these now, one in each hand. HMMM. Tongue flick.... Smelling both. Blelele.

"YOU KNOW, I HAVEN'T HAD EGG MILK PUNCH IN *DECADESSSS*! PROBABLY SSSINCE I SSSTOPPED CELEBRATING CHRISSSTMAS. I TEND TO PUT UP A TREE FOR THE EGGSSSS, BUT, DRINKING ALONE ON THAT DAY ISSS RATHER PATHETIC."

Alastor

“I’ve always liked it! I don’t mix it up *every* year, but most years! I didn’t last year, but I did...” He trails off. He stops. He thinks. “Hm. It’s been longer than I thought.” Shrug!

They’re out of hands, aren’t they? He sticks one glass between his knees so he can take back the eggnog, untwists the lid with his teeth, and pour it into the cups. “It’s better made from scratch, but unfortunately I’ve only got so much time to prepare so many foods, and a cocktail is lower on my list than, say, an extra side dish! Here,” he holds out a glass, “add however much rum you want.”

Sir Pentious

Bigger blelele. Sir Pentious takes the glass, and then briefly sweats. He doesn't have knees, he can't put it there.... Time to wait for his tail tip to get here so he can wrap it around the rum.

"OH, YESSS, I KNOW SSSO. I WOULD MAKE IT FROM SSSCRATCH MYSELF!"

Alastor

He. He thought. He thought that Sir Pentious was going to open the rum and pour it in and *then* take the glass... Neither of these men need alcohol, their combined ability to plan is already rubbish. Alastor reaches over to try to unscrew the lid for Sir Pentious.

“Did you! I wonder how our recipes differed. We could do a compare and contrast sometime!”

Sir Pentious

~~Listen I may have misread.~~ Penny allows Alastor to do his best and unscrew the lid. Oh look, his tail is here. He's very careful, and pours a dab of rum in. There! Punched!

"I DOUBT IT'SSSS AS GOOD AS YOURSS. I JUST FOLLOWED MY MOTHER'SSSS RECIPE."

Alastor

“I follow my uncle’s. No offense to my uncle, but I’d trust a mother’s recipe any day.” He takes the rum and adds just enough to ensure he’ll be able to taste it.

Sir Pentious

Alright, caps screwed back on, and placed safely out of the way, he takes his glass from his tail and cheers it to Alastor's glass.

"HAPPY *HISSSSS*MAS, ALASSSTOR."

Alastor

Alastor laughs. “Happy Hissssmass!” His attempt to copy the hiss end up sounding half like white noise and half like surf washing on a beach.

Sir Pentious

Oh, what a sound! He does like that sound. Time for sips.... Glad that things no longer seem awkward!

Alastor

Sips!

And things are not-awkward enough, for the moment, that he even leans over against Sir Pentious. He sorta unconsciously feels like he did a good enough job to earn that much.

Sir Pentious

SNORT. Oh yeah, that happened here. Penny taps his chin, "I DON'T PLAN TO DO ANYTHING. MY PLAN ISS TO DO NOTHING, THAT ISS! I WOULD LIKE TO SSSSTAY IN WITH MY WIFE, RELAX AND BASSSSK. AND YOUR PLANSSSS? MAKING TROUBLE I ASSUME?"

Alastor

“Hah! If by ‘trouble’ you mean ‘far too much food’! I’m making lunch for the hotel and for as many of the duplicates I’m currently in correspondence with as care to accept my invitation!” A thoughtful pause. “Which might segue *into* ‘making trouble,’ we’ll have to see.”

Sir Pentious

"YOUR DUPLICATESSSS? ABSSSOLUTELY, THERE ISSSS GOING TO BE TROUBLE! NO *DOUBT.* PENTIOUSSSESSS ARE CONTENT TO REMAIN IN DOORSSS FOR THE HOLIDAYSSS, BUT I VERY MUCH DOUBT IT WILL MEAN THE SSSAME FOR YOUR LOT!" Prrrrr. He's grinning wider, "YOU'RE ALL ON THE SSSAME *FREQUENCY!!!* NYAAAA HA HAAAAAAA!"

Alastor

He laughs ruefully. “Oh, I don’t go out much on Christmas. Unless I’m invited somewhere! But otherwise, usually I’m content to remain indoors, too. Some years this is a holiday I’ll just... sleep straight through.” Shrug. “But you know what happens when set a bunch of microphones and speakers too close to each other, the feedback just starts building—so maybe we’ll feed off of each other, hah!”

Sir Pentious

"ONE CAN ONLY IMAGINE." He says that like he's hoping for some chaos. He leans over to plant one (1) sniss (snake kiss) to the top of Alastor's head.

"YOU'LL HAVE FUN THISS YEAR, I'M SSSCERTAIN OF IT."

Alastor

Please hold, a stray firework explosion scattered Alastor’s brain halfway across the multiverse and he’s got to collect it again before he can reply. “... Yes!”

Smooth.

Sir Pentious

SNORT.

Alastor

Have mercy. He clears his throat and takes a gulp of eggnog. Which, as it turns out, isn’t the kind of beverage that’s very helpful at clearing one’s throat. “Well, it’s already off to a better start than most years!”

Sir Pentious

"IT *ISSSSS* ISN'T IT!" BIG Cobra purrs. Sir Pentious takes another big gulp, and rests his head against Al's again.

"HERE'S TO MORE LESS THAN AWFUL YEARSSS, I HOPE."

Alastor

“Cheers to *that.* Fingers crossed. Knock on wood.” He takes another sip.

And then, tentatively, leans his head on Sir Pentious’s shoulder? Is this okay? Is it alright for him to do that? Please tell him it’s alright to do that.

Sir Pentious

It is very alright for him to do that. Penny doesn't stop him or tense up.

Alastor

Good. Then he does that. And he’s gonna stay right there as long as he can.

#hissandvinegar #chat log

7 notes · View notes

agustdomain · 5 years ago

Text

sorry I’m a bad boy

unrequested drabble about the bad boy back in town, aiming to keep his promises to his girl. Is it too late?

Warnings: Language, Suggestive content

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

“You know who’s looking for you, right?”

Your friend was fresh with youth, it seemed. That, or ignorance. All day, everyone you came across in this nosy ass town buzzed about you like bees, the same name filling your ears. You didn’t expect your best friend to be just another bee attracted to the honey.

“Yes, I know. Yes, he’s back in town. Yes, he’s looking for me. No, I don’t care.” That was a lie, but you needed to put on a brave face. You hadn’t seen Changbin in six months; the least you could do is pretend you didn’t care.

Rosé gave you that famous look of hers, the one that told you she knew exactly how afraid and lost you were feeling. “Seems like you’ve heard that way too much today.”

“I have.”

“Why don’t we get out of here then?”

And that’s how, instead of going to your 4:30 class, you skipped it to grab a burger and fries with your favorite person on Earth. You know it was only a matter of time before Rosé stopped being generous by filling the silence. Her fidgeting was her tell: she was dying to know where your mind was at.

How were you supposed to feel when the boy you were in love with your entire life reappeared after months of being M.I.A.?

His stupid promises filtered into your head as you drowned one fry in ketchup, dunking it over and over as each sentence rolled through your head.

I’ll come back for you.

I’ll always love you.

I’m always going to be bad for you, don’t forget that.

I might be leaving, but I’ll never leave you.

You can trust me.

I won’t ever change. I promise that.

Sorry I’m a bad boy.

You scoffed aloud, your attention finding the fry that had long been broken in half. How symbolic.

“Do you think… he knows about you and Jisung?”

You gave her an unamused look. “What’s to know? I don’t like Jisung like that.”

Rosé bit into her burger and chewed slowly before saying, “Yeah, but you know Jisung is going around telling everyone you’re his girlfriend.”

You knocked your head back and groaned. “I told him to stop doing that shit! I’m not going to date him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s delusional. Has been since we were kids.” Rosé really looked worried about you, and because of that you couldn’t look at her. She added, “Chances are, he’s heard about it.”

“Of course he has. In this shithole of a town, gossip travels fast,” You felt bad for calling your home that, but you were in a bad mood and it doesn’t mix well with the familiarity of a small town.

Rosé looked thoughtful again as she sipped from her soda before her eyes grew wide, “Oh my gosh. This isn’t good. They hate each other.”

“I know.”

“Once Changbin hears, he’s going to go apeshit. And when Jisung hears he’s back, he already knows he lost you to him. It’s a lose lose.”

“Why would he care? He’s the one that left me in the first place.”

You ignored her disapproving look, wanting to wallow in your despair. She never let you have your moments, though.

“You know that’s not true. The two of you were absolutely in love. He would travel the galaxy for you. You said it yourself, the only way he was going to escape bad influences is if he left.”

“But…” It bubbled over then, and you hated it. You thought you had escaped it, had managed to chase it away. It had only settled and waited until it was time to erupt. “But he said he wouldn’t leave me. He said he was leaving, but vowed to keep in contact with me. He said it would be like he never left. Tell me why I haven’t gotten one phone call, one text. Nothing. I mean nothing to him.

“He commanded my heart with the flick of his wrist. I was played by him, and I should’ve known better!” By now, you were yelling, your face red and the burger joint silent, likely eavesdropping to spread your outburst across town. “Changbin is nothing but a walking cliché. A stupid bad boy who had nothing better to do than go around seeing how many hearts he could break. Worthless promises, nothing but worthless words from his mouth. Am I supposed to jump for joy now that he’s back? Please, I’d rather date Jisung than face his bullshit again.”

Rosé stared for a moment, her mind working to figure out how to make things right. She couldn’t, but you loved her for trying. Slapping money down on the table, she grabbed your wrist. “I was wrong. Your favorite meal isn’t enough to cure this despair. Let’s go.”

Tugging you out of the burger place, complaints fell past your lips, not really paying attention to your surroundings. Coming to an abrupt stop in front of you, you slammed into her.

“Hey! What’s your problem-” Stepping around her, the reason became as vivid as the figure in front of you. Sleek black Impala parked, the same one you had spent way too many nights in doing way too many unspeakable things. Leaning up against its trunk, the boy with all the promises he couldn’t keep, his eyes shining as he looked at you.

Was his hair darker, or was your memory poisoned? Were his eyes warmer? His clothing was just as dark as you remembered, though he looked a lot more filled out.

He was perfect. Still, he managed to wring your insides tight, making it hard to breathe. If possible, it hurt even more seeing him now than it did when you had to watch his back as he walked away from you the last time.

“Y/N.”

“Let’s go, Rosé,” You thought you were in control. Quickly, you realized you weren’t.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Your heart dropped as you saw the apologetic look on your best friend’s face, “He convinced me to bring you here. I think it’ll be good to talk to him. I’ll be inside.”

The betrayal that twisted your heart stung your eyes. Really, you knew it was because you couldn’t handle being around him again. All these months, you ached to smell his scent, his body wash and him. You wanted to smell that stupid air freshener in his car, hear that stupid CD he replayed over and over. You wanted him.

Now that he was here, you wanted everything but.

You closed your eyes as the streetlights shut on, his heavy footsteps nearing until they stopped in front of you. Was your mind playing a trick on you or was his actual scent reaching your nose? The tears spilling from your closed eyes were embarrassing, so you squeezed your eyes tighter. Clenched fist, aching heart, crickets crying for their mates, you wished deeply this wasn’t happening.

It was too soon for you to realize all you wanted was to fall into his arms.

“Oh Y/N,” No. He wasn’t allowed to be in pain. Who gave him the right to waltz back in and out whenever he wanted?

You flinched when his fingers brushed a tear away. Peeking to see his hurt expression, you turned away. “What do you want, Changbin? Come to laugh in my face?”

His face scrunched up from the corner of your eye. “No. That’s bullshit and you know it. You know why I’m here.”

“Why?” You faced him, courage slowly but surely building as your eyes trailed to meet his. His courage faded as he stepped back, resolve crumbling as he had to stare the outcome of his actions in the face. “You think I’m just going to accept you back with open arms? You think I’m going to come running when everyone tells me you’re back? Jumping for joy?”

He was frowning but you continued, needing to or else you would implode.

“If you’re so big and bad, why are you here? Why aren’t you sporting some brand new girlfriend to rub in my face? I’m sure there was plenty, considering you never reached out to me. How’s that for a cliché? The bad boy makes promises he can’t keep. Well, news flash. I’m not the stupid girl who falls for your lies again.”

“Y/N…”

“And I don’t want to hear any insincere apology that I know you’re waiting to say. You expected me to wait for you. You expected me to hang onto your every word, hang onto this fantasy that you loved me. I’m better than that. I’m better than this.”

“Y/N, would you listen to me?”

“No. You don’t deserve that.”

“Oh, I don’t?”

“There’s nothing you could say that would make this right. So you don’t.”

“How would you know that?” His eyes were narrowed now, annoyed. How dare he.

“Because I do.”

“Stellar answer. Wouldn’t expect anything else from the Hotheaded queen herself.”

Inhaling heavily, you searched your mind for anything to say. Instead, you couldn’t help but swear at yourself as your eyes lingered on his face. He was still as stunning as he was in the past. You were such a fool. And he? A snake.

“What do you want from me, Changbin?”

At the sound of his name, you caught how he had an intake of breath. You ignored the pang in your chest. Your eyes trailed down. He was still wearing the silver car-wheel necklace you had given him a year ago. You wanted to rip it off.

“I want to hear your voice.”

You laughed. He ignored you.

“I want to hear every single detail of your days. I want to know what shows you’ve been watching, what music you’ve been listening to, if you continued on using that detergent you decided to try out. Are you still using the same body spray? How’s Galaxy? She was a kitten the last time I saw her. Bet she’s still causing havoc.”

Was it a trick of the streetlight or were his eyes glistening?

He stepped closer, you looking down at him from the edge of the pavement. He was in the road, blocking a parking spot but that was the least of his concerns as he stared up at you. Laughing forcibly, you held your breath as his fingers cautiously skimmed the back of your hand. You let him.

“I want to lie next to you again, watch the expressions you make when you sleep. I want you to wake me up in the middle of the night and pepper my face with kisses when you have a bad dream, and hug me from behind when you know I had one myself. I want to hear your laugh. I want to make your coffee, even though I always mess it up. How many times have you watched Good Will Hunting without me? I know I always complained, but I loved it just as much as you did.”

He was inches away from you now, and you uncontrollably drew closer. He was magnetic, glowing like the angel he was. A few lies from his mouth and he was an angel again. Were they lies? You didn’t know, but you could feel yourself slipping.

“I told you I was coming back for you. I never left, not really, not when the best part of me is still here. I can’t change who I am, and how I needed to get away to become better. I need to be a better man for you. I did what I had to. I’m sorry for not reaching out to you. I know I can’t make it up to you in a day. I’m bad, always have been. But I did what I had to in order to keep from running back. Trust me, I would have the second I heard your voice.”

How were you supposed to be mad at him when he was speaking to you in that tone, when his fingers were on your skin, when his presence was surrounding you?

“Y/N,” he sang your name now. That’s how it always sounded, since the moment he introduced himself and stole your heart. You remember when you were fifteen, the first time he really caught your attention in school. How his flirty smile always felt a little different than the others. He really had you since the moment you met.

“Changbin.” Even you were giving in. You couldn’t help it, not when he was this close. This close in six months.

He waited, hands comfortably on your waist and head tipped up as he looked at you. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, brushing them off before fiddling with his collar. Your fingers skimmed across his neck, and you watched as his lips parted, a look you knew all too well washing over his eyes.

Heavy lidded, he waited.

Hands gripping your waist, he waited.

Your fingers were massaging the back of his neck, thrilled at the same effect you had on him. The heat was closing in, the light fading away as you were washed away by the ocean you were drawn to since you were a girl.

Just as your lips grazed his, blinding headlights and a car horn startled you out of his grip as you jumped back. Changbin was less affected, annoyed as he looked over his shoulder at the car trying to pull into the spot he currently occupied. You pulled him up onto the sidewalk, but not before noticing the look building on his face as he waited for the driver to get out of his car. He was pissed.

And you? You were scared.

You recognized the car all too well.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking all over for you! I was going to take you home after class!” Jisung was all smiles, but you didn’t miss the lingering look on Changbin.

“Hey Park. It’s pretty fucking obvious what happened,” Changbin barely waited for Jisung to finish.

The smile disappeared so fast from the happy boy, it was unsettling. “Was I talking to you?”

“No, but I figured I would do you a favor and spare you the embarrassment. You always manage to make a fool out of yourself.”

Jisung slammed his car door shut. You began sweating, the danger on their faces spurring you into action as you stepped between them. That didn’t break their staredown.

“I don’t appreciate your attitude. Given the fact that you ran away from home like a little bitch, I wouldn’t go around acting like a tough guy.”

Changbin laughed stepping closer. Placing your hand on his chest, you pressed firmly and waited for him to look at you. His anger disappeared as he regarded you, a lingering sadness swimming in his face. You needed to do something.

Turning to Jisung, you said, “Jisung, please. Go.”

He frowned. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t make this harder.”

His voice cracked, the pain seeping through. “You’re really going to choose him? After leaving you? Breaking your heart? You’re still going to choose him over me?”

You didn’t know what to say. You wished you could take away his pain. Before you could say anything else, he was in his car and went as quickly as he came. You were in Changbin’s previous place now, facing the parking lot and wondering where your place was in this town. All you had been was a shell of your past self these last few months, and it was all because of Changbin. Is that who you were? Just Changbin’s girl?

No. You were more than that.

This time, when his hands found yours, you pulled away. You ignored his pain as best you could as you shook your head. “I can’t just forget what you did. You destroyed what we were when you vowed you wouldn’t. You know how hard it was for me to trust you. You used that against me, made me fall in love with you, just so you could shoot me in the heart.”

“I-”

“No. No, Changbin. You’re not who I thought you were. And I’m not the Y/N I once was. And I won’t put myself through that again. I will always love you, but I love myself more. So let me breathe.”

He took a step back, the defenses you had spent years breaking down building up right before your eyes. If you had known how easy it was to keep from loving him, you wonder if you would have gone back in time and stopped anything from happening.

Figuring it was done, you turned away and headed for the entrance to the burger joint. Just as you reached the door, his words stopped you in your tracks.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I would be back for you. And when I knew I had to be a better man for you the next time I saw you. I’ll respect your wishes. But I will prove to you that I will love you right for the rest of my life. I will always be yours, Y/N.”

You only looked at him one last time before going inside. When you sat across from Rosé and got the courage to look out the window, that Impala you knew all too well was gone.

And as the sensation of his lips lingered on your own, you answered your own thoughts.

No, you would never go back in time and erase everything you had with him. No matter the outcome, he will always be the boy that taught you how to love.

Coming back for you, huh?

You’ll believe that when you see it.

#angelo works #angelo drabbles #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #changbin scenarios #changbin angst #changbin fluff #changbin drabbles #sk #sorry I'm a bad boy #siabb

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medea10 · 5 years ago

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Medea Plays Pokemon Sword (&Shield): Part VI

Okay, it’s been several months since my last update with Sword & Shield.

Mostly because as soon as you finish the main story and the side-quest with Tweedle Dick and Tweedle Balls, what else is there? Just fill up the Pokedex and have a go at the Battle Tower.

I just took some time to go through the Shield game (since Sword is kinda my main game this time around).

I would just like to say, Allister is the cutest little fella.

Maybe it’s because of the episode of Pokemon Twilight Wings that just aired a few hours ago here, but Allister is such a sweetie.

And of course we have Thick-Chick Mama, Melony.

I knew going through her gym was going to be a pain in the rectum, just like Gordie’s. I was right. Her gym is on par with Wallace’s gym in Ruby & Sapphire.

But thanks to some Youtube videos, I managed to avoid falling through the ice pitfalls.

Sorry, she set me up for this joke.

Then in January, we got a taste of what to look forward to when the Isle of Armor expansion hit.

Like catching the odd-looking Slowpoke and meeting new rivals like Klara and Avery.

And I could tell then and there that Klara was one of those psycho, pink-haired bitches and Avery was Robert’s psychic cousin. Will that theory let up once the expansion hit? Let me think about that while I chow down on some Slowpoke Tail curry.

Itadakimasu!

Then a month passed and we were introduced to Pokemon HOME and Professor Oak’s other relative from some weird timeline where Macho Man Randy Savage and Jiraiya did the fusion dance and merged into the Grand Oak here.

A place where you can transfer all the pokemon you’ve caught throughout the years and STILL not transfer them to Sword and Shield.

And then Animal Crossing came out and we forgot about Pokemon’s existence.

Three months later and here we are!

At your arrival, you get an update to your Pokedex.

Don’t get too excited. We get SOME old pokemon added. Not all. Just some.

It’s nice that pokemon like Poliwag and Bulbasaur aren’t illegal in Galar anymore. But um...Ampharos? Dragonite? FRIGGIN’ BLAZIKEN?!

Whatever, take your time, dudes!

After the upgrade, you are met by Klara (in Sword). In a mistaken identity story line, she mistakes you for some other wank for joining the dojo nearby.

You battle her (or Avery in Shield). You wallop her.

OH, YUP! YUP! Look at that! Crazy bitch alert!

Anyways, this rival will try by any means to keep you away from the dojo by enticing you with a style card (which gives you exclusive hairdos and clothes).

But because I like to move this story along, I’m gonna go to the dojo.

Up yours, skank.

The dojo is headed up by an old fella named Mustard. And you’re met up with Mustard’s dotting wife...

I am not kidding.

His wife is named Honey.

And she’s a MILF.

Like I give a fuck about you, Yuno Gasai-Lite. Sheesh, maybe Avery isn’t this much of a cunt like Klara.

Oh, go shove a bent spoon up your ass, you watered-down looking Alucard, mother fucker.

Oh and if you’re wondering, I actually hate Bede, Sordward and Shielbert more than these two. I just feel like being mean since Tweedle Dick and Tweedle Balls aren’t around for me to poke fun at anymore.

Once inside, you’ll meet the master of the dojo, Mustard. He gives you a uniform and then we get down to the three tasks.

Task one:

Catch three speedy Slowpokes.

They took Avery/Klara’s dojo uniform and it’s up to you to catch them.

Just don’t expect a thank you from the Slutty Succubus of the South.

Task Two:

Find the Max Mushrooms.

These babies are the key to unlocking certain pokemon’s potential in Dynamaxing. So in case you keep getting your ass kicked by these special pokemon at raid dens, here’s your chance at getting the Gigantamax pokemon.

So after going through this twisted forest and nearly going insane by getting lost, I’m not about to have this little tramp steal my findings.

After you beat Klara/Avery in a battle again, you get the Max Mushrooms. But they come back with the mushrooms too and insist on cooking them instead of the ones you found.

For once, you did me a favor. I can use this for my Cinderace.

Task Three:

Fight Klara/Avery.

Now this might be a little tricky. Because at the beginning of the battle, Klara and Avery do something sneaky.

Before you could start, Klara sets up Toxic Spikes, causing immediate poisoning for your pokemon. At least Avery only had mist surrounding the battlefield. This bitch intentionally poisons your pokemon.

Just use a Steel type when going up against Klara.

After these three tasks, you get the secret armor of the dojo.

Kubfu.

You will get a Kubfu from Mustard. But that’s not all folks!

While you’re on the Isle, you are now able to have the first pokemon on your roster walk around with you.

Good that you bond with the Kubfu before you go to the next part. Also, all of those XP candies you earn in Max Raid Dens are going to be your best friend.

Okay, time to do what I love to do in Pokemon games.

FUCK YEAH! MISSY GETS TO TRAVEL BESIDE ME!

Anyways, once you bond with Kubfu and you’re the best of friends and train Kubfu to a decent level, then it’s time to take on the Tower of Water or Tower of Darkness.

You can only choose one. If you choose water, Kubfu will evolve into a part water type. And if you choose darkness, Kubfu will evolve into a part dark type. And the tower you do not choose will be closed off to you forever.

You’ll fight a few trainers with one pokemon each. Suggestion is to have your Kubfu past level 70 and know moves like Aerial Ace, Zen Headbutt, and/or Thunderpunch.

At the top of the tower, you are challenged by Mustard. And once you defeat him, you can evolve Kubfu.

By staring at a wall scroll.

I’ve seen stranger ways of evolving a pokemon. I’ll just sit back and accept it for what it is.

After this part, there’s a baby side-quest you have to go through in order to have this fella take part in the Dynamax process.

Apparently, this pokemon is picky about his food. But some Max Honey will make the Max Mushroom soup taste pleasant.

And that’s when Hau 2.0 comes in! And once again, we go through a three-tasked mission in order to get some Max Honey.

Task One:

Reunite a mother Lilligant with it’s baby Petlil.

Back to that twisted-ass forest again.

Some friendly advice, don’t use your bike to get back to Hop when you find Lilligant. Lilligant will get lost and just go back to where it originally was. Just walk.

Task Two:

Chase an Applin.

Task Three:

Go to the special tree.

Hop will tell you to shake it to get the attention of a Vespiquen.

...

ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE HOP?! It is 2020, the worst year on the record. I am not about to be stung by Pokemon’s answer to the fucking murder hornet. And what do I do next?

I shake it like a Polaroid picture.

So I’ve chosen death.

*snorts*

No you didn’t, Pokemon.

You didn’t do this!

-___-

I can’t EVEN...

Anyways, you’re taken to a Max Raid den and you take out a Vespiquen.

Fuck you Hop. Just fuck you.

Now that those three tasks are taken care of, you can feed your picky pokemon some Max Mushroom Soup. And now you can battle Mustard in a six-on-six.

After winning...

Can I please shove her off a cliff?

I know, I shouldn’t be mean to Klara and Avery. But I am. Klara tried to be a pop sensation and only sold 8 copies of her CD. And Avery is the outcast of his family with the least psychic energy. So maybe I’ll cut them both some slack.

I’m just not over Klara poisoning us at the beginning of the match with absolutely no warning.

And that’s the end of that story line.

But there’s still plenty to do around the Isle of Armor.

Catch pokemon for the updated pokedex.

Catch an actual level 80 wild pokemon!

No joke, friggin’ Wailord is level 80.

Also look out for Sharpedo in the water. They’re so fast that you won’t finish the Jaws music score fast enough before Sharpedo bites you in the ass.

Help this fool find his 151 Digletts.

At least he gives you gift pokemon for your hard work.

Like Alolan Meowth, Alolan Raichu, etc.

Combine four items to get a special item or pokeball.

So this nightmare fuel takes four items and can combine them into a pokeball, a TR, or a special item (depending on which four items you use to combine). And now that Apricorns are back, you can use them to make those special pokeballs you’ve been only able to get one up to this point.

Help the MILF around.

Welcome to the daunting task of getting Watts. Honey will not be fulfilled until she gets her hands on at least 2,000,000+ watts. Yes, I said that. But it’s to help put special things around the dojo like vending machines, a hair stylist, food for the fridge, and other essentials. But then there are other incentives you get for helping Honey out including battling with Honey and getting rare league cards.

Best method of gaining watts, find Digger Pa and Digger Ma. The digging brothers have parents. Pa digs for watts as long as you give him special ores. And Ma finds the ores (as long as her stupid shovel doesn’t crap out).

Now was buying the expansion package to Sword and Shield worth it? I don’t want to be premature in my thoughts since the second part of the expansion package isn’t out yet. So I’ll save it for later. This has been a fun side-story and it’s been able to take my attention away from Animal Crossing for just a little while. I know there will always be special events with Max Raids. I just hope we can add more pokemon from the National Dex when we can go to the Tundra later this year.

But if you’re one of those folks that’s National Dex or bust, maybe wait off on purchasing the package until we get more info about Tundra.

Okay, see you in a few months!

#pokemon #pokemon sword #pokemon shield #isle of armor #kubfu #mustard #honey #klara #avery

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faythelyse · 4 years ago

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Joji x Reader {female reader} Apocalyptic setting. Part two.

It had been about a week since I had invited the two new men to our community. Tending to George became a regular part of my day. Cleaning the wound and dressing it atleast 2 times a day. He has slept through all of it, I wonder when he will come to. Ben and Ashlee have been going out every day for a supply run. We haven't been this stocked since everything shut down.

Ashlee had grown close to Ben already, they go out frequently on supply runs, and spend most of their waking time fixing up the truck that is now currently running. To top it all off we haven't seen any infected near the community in 3 days. On my way to now to what is basically George and Bens room. I think they might end up living here for a long time. The thought of that made me smile.

I walk in medical bag in hand ready to dress up his wound. He was actually sitting up with his legs crossed. He appeared groggy, but smiled as I entered. "Did you sleep well?" I asked in a happy tone. Sitting next to him I open up my bag and start getting stuff ready. George starts to try and rip at the medical tape around his bandages.

I reach out and stop him with my hand. "Here let me help" I take a cotton ball and soak it in baby oil and wipe it all around the edges of the tape. He watches quietly.

"Let that sit a bit." I got up to throw the cotton ball away and his eyes followed me around the room.

"Thank you" he says as I sit back in front of him. "Where is Ben? "How long have I been out?"

"Ben is out in the garage with Ashlee, unless they have left already. They are heading out to get stuff to build up our walls a bit more, and you have been out for about 5 days. Did you dream?"

He rubbed his eyes "Um. Yeah, I did." He watched as I pulled out new clean bandages and tape. I start to softly pull off the tape around his ribs and chest. "You've been taking care of me all this time." I nod and continue to remove everything.

He winces as I clean his injury. Its healing. "You are lucky. It seems to be healing up great."

"Thanks to you.. We were lucky to stumble across you. I don't even recall what your name is."

"It's Y/N, if there's anything else you need just let me know" Right as I was close to the door he speaks up again.

"Can you just stay a moment with me. Ben and I haven't seen any others in months. It's nice to just be around someone who isn't infected."

"I understand. The girls and I who make up this community were getting restless not having anyone else to communicate with besides the raiders who come by to give us a hard time and steal our food."

"Raiders come and steal your food?" George looked genuinely worried knowing we really weren't in a good position to fight back.

"They killed Elenas fiance awhile back. We have tolerated them ever since." You look away not knowing what else to say on the subject. You couldn't yet explain to him that one of the raiders was especially infatuated with you and you had no choice but to go on tolerating it with no real way to fight back.

You change the subject "SO what did you do before the world shut down?"

"I made music. I still make music really. Just no ones around to hear it.. " He scratches the back of his neck nervously. "I heard you singing the other day when you came in to clean up the room."

You immediately blush. You don't sing in front of anyone.

"Don't be embarrassed" he laughed so casually "Y/N you sounded beautiful."

You smile nervously still not able to say anything. You could feel your face get hot as he just sat and stared at you for a moment.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to secretly listen in, I just didn't want you to stop.."

Ashlee opens the door "Y/N! We kind of have a small emergency." She motions for you to follow her. Before you leave you grab a pen and some paper from the desk in the corner of the room and lay it on Georges lap. "To write music." You say and smile before leaving the room.

George feeling great about finally having someone else to bond with besides Ben is immediately struck with inspiration and starts writing. George glances over at the green coat he had been injured in and has a flash of memories about the night he had met you. The tone of your sweet voice bounces around his head. Your messy hair, soft eyes and pouty lips had immediately drawn him to you. He wanted to know you.

Ben bursts in and plops down whilst shoving an immense amount of potatoe chips into his mouth. "They have ramen" he says with a mouthful. George rolls his eyes and smiles at his friend. "Yeah Im doing fine, thanks for asking dickhead."

"Aw come on, I knew you'd be fine, you've literally eaten a hair cake and survived." Ben laughs and shoves more chips in his mouth.

"You keep bringing that up like it's some life achievement." George manages to stand up and leans up against the wall next to the window. Ben walks over and gazes out the window with him. Ashlee and Y/N are outside trying their best to catch a mean goose that had laid her eggs in Elenas garden. They had plans to catch and breed her for food. George and Ben laugh quietly while watching this go down. "So what do you think of the girls? They seem great right?" Ben watches Ashlee, he is clearly into her.

"I actually completely agree with you on this one. They are great.." He says while thinking of you. "What if the people who gave me this" he points out his woind" find us here. Then we are putting them in danger."

Bens expression turns serious. "How are they going to find us? Besides if I see those fuckers again I'll be prepared this time."

"They found us last time, and we barely escaped.."

"That was last time, this is different. Have trust." Ben slaps George on the shoulder and starts to leave " Besides, we owe these girls. It wont hurt to stay awhile."

"And your dick has no alternative motivation for this?"

Ben smirks "Of course not, I have no idea what you are implying. " he shuts the door behind him.

George still by the window looks over the area for a moment. A garden was out in the right corner of the yard where a young woman was planting seeds while talking to

Y/N, who was sitting on a nearby stone bench. She appeared to be writing. George thought for a long time on if staying here was the right choice but something about Y/N made him want to linger a bit longer.

He walked outside, and stood behind y/n for a moment before making her aware of his presence. She was so immersed in her writing she didn't hear him walk up.

"You have nice handwriting." George spoke softly but his gentle voice made y/n jump even higher. "Jesus, you scared me. Also its rude to spy on someone who is so obviously journaling." You slam your book shut hoping he hadn't read to much into what you were writing. His big dark brown eyes lightened slightly in the sun. "Could I get a tour of the place? We can talk about how to pay off my debt to you. I really owe you my life." He was serious. You stand up and glance over at Elena. Elena looks up and waves her hand at you giving you the okay to leave her to her garden. "Sounds good, I'll show you around." You lead him out the gate into the front yard. You turn around and show him the full outside view of the house. "This is where we lived before we combined the house behind us, we decided it would be better to have a larger space, and fenced in both backyards, even cleared the second house. Now we have plenty of room in and out without having to worry about infected." You both walk back in, you lead him around the kichen and show him to all the rooms. "Where is your room?" You are starting to get the sense he could be flirting with you. You open the last room revealing your space. It was filled with old cds, books and papers, a bed with maybe too many blankets, and couple game systems hooked up to a tv that was plugged into a generator. "Homey" he says as he walks in making himself comfortable and plopping on your bed.

"You seem comfortable." You smile taking in his small gestures and goofy smiles as he gives your room a good look over. "Okay we can move on to the -" he interrupts you "Whats this?" He picks up a wrinkly piece of paper. It was a suicide note you had written a month or so ago after the raiders had killed elenas fiance and deemed you their new play thing. You didn't want to live in a world where you were trying so hard to survive only to get used whenever they decided to come back. Which was about twice a month. Sucked it up though. You care to deeply for all of your friends. You couldn't leave them to a worse fate. "I don't plan on doing that anymore. It's not a big deal." You whisper while looking down out of embarrassment. He walks up to you and pulls your chin up to meet his gaze. "Y/N I'm here to help if you need me." He pulls you into an unexpected hug. You relax in his arms. That was the moment he decided he didn't want to leave. He wanted to hold onto you and this peaceful place as long as possible. This felt like a dream to him. Ben and George had been wandering with no real home for atleast a couple years now. This felt like it could be home. "I'll pay my debt by helping you get rid of those assholes who think they can come by and take whatever they want." You push away from him. You knew this was dangerous, thinking about standing up to them at all made you sick to your stomach. We couldn't continue living in fear though. You nod your head in agreement. And you both walk back outside where everyone was circled up talking.

#jojixreader #george miller #jojifanfiction #fanfiction #jojifanfic #romance

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mininky · 5 years ago

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Nefarious Intentions

Summary: Life sometimes sucks. You’ve been stuck in that strange world that is adulting, questioning everything about life as you’ve gradually grown harder and harder to everything until one bland date brings you to a small record store and you meet him. Min Yoongi. In his very words, ‘not a good guy’ but he’s just too tempting to ignore. And safe, careful, planner you finds yourself wrapped up in the storm that is Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi X Reader

Genre: Smut, possibly the longest sex scene I have ever written, with bits of introspective romance?? I guess?

Word Count: 15.2K

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (F giving and receiving), spanking, a hell of a lot of dirty talk, and as always from me, plenty of swearing.

A/N: This isn’t complete. You’ve been warned. It doesn’t leave off on like...a cliffhanger or anything, but I’ve had this bad boy sitting around for ages and I’m just too busy to finish any of my projects at the moment but a lovely friend of mine reminded me about this particular bad boy Yoongi fic and I felt that I owed all of y’all who’s stuck around my very long bouts of radio silence a holiday present. Merry Christmas, you filthy animals.

You can still clearly remember the first time you fell in love. It wasn't anything amazing or special, it wasn't some wonderful whirlwind romance always portrayed in stories and movies. But you can remember the butterflies, the way your skin warmed uncomfortably any time you held hands, the way your breathing grew uneven just from the smallest of hugs or stolen glances. Soft kisses when others weren't looking would send your head into the clouds. You can also remember the heartache, the way it felt as though everything had come crashing down when he moved on and you were stuck trying to pick up the pieces of your life. But you would eventually, and if there's anything that you've learned as you've gotten older it's that love changes entirely. Not just with each partner but also with wisdom. Where you once could talk about the innocence of love now it was sex, marriage, children, careers, half-assed dates, trying to decide if you could see yourself living with that person or if the relationship wasn't going anywhere after just a few months.

Love used to just be. It just came one day, crept into your heart like a thief in the night but instead of taking anything it just took up space. Ahhh, what a way to live. Youth holds far more innocence than people realize. Growing up is a pain, the world becomes crueler and you start analyzing everything instead of just living. When did that happen? When did love become a strategic game rather than just an effervescent thing swirling around in the depths of your soul? When did you start worrying so much about keeping up with others around you?

You weren't always all this doom and gloom. In fact, most people will say that on the outside you seem to be a very positive, kind person. A bit of a pushover. Always there to help. Some might say otherwise, that sure you're nice enough but you seem to have a wall up. Is that such a bad thing? Is it bad to want to protect yourself from the inevitable pain of having to move on? If you were to answer honestly, wholeheartedly, you probably started feeling this way a few years ago. After you watched your best friend walk down the aisle. So beautiful. So happy. And you were so fucking alone. Miserably alone. And you felt like a complete bitch for watching such a beautiful moment happen all while thinking selfishly about none other than yourself. And then everyone else moved on. They got married or moved in with their partners. They had children. Your siblings all got married. And then there's you. The forever bachelorette. The workaholic.

If we remain on the topic of honesty, you aren't even sure you know what love is anymore. You can vaguely recall the innocence of days past. The earnestness of loving simply because you couldn't control it. But you can't describe it. How does one describe love? If you had asked the you of yester-year...fine, yester-decade...you would have said, "It just is. It's there one day and it strings you along for a wild ride and you just try your best as the shotgun driver to help steer this whole thing along." But the older, hopefully, wiser you? Well, now you see love as something more akin to a good game of chess. It's a strategy. A battlefield, a place where good plans should hopefully get you across the way but where other plans can foil you. Fucking Pat Benatar had it right, who would've guessed?

You glance back up at your date, drawn out of your internal ramblings as the waiter passes by. This guy isn't the worst. He certainly isn't the best. On paper he's got everything going for a good future. He's a doctor, he seems nice enough, he has his own home. For fuck's sake, he even works at a free clinic one weekend a month just to help people. And he's obnoxiously handsome. It's your third date with him. But why is it that you just don't feel a spark with him? Maybe you should sleep with him, see how that pans out. That's one thought. On the other hand whenever a waiter passes by you desperately want to grab the check and run back to your sanctum away from this boring hell.

"(Y/N?)" You blink back up at Shownu, giving a small awkward smile.

"Sorry, I guess I didn't get enough sleep last night. I'm a little tired."

He nods kindly, grabbing a passing waiter and paying the check before he resumes speaking with you. "It's okay, you just looked a little bored. I'm sorry I'm sure that cardiovascular disease is probably a boring topic to most."

"Oh no, it's fascinating." Lies. It felt like he was trying to read to you from a textbook. "I'm just a bit out of it. I have a new client who's been more than a bit difficult and I've had to work almost around the clock to try to figure out what'll make them happy."

"What do you do again?" Looks like you aren't the only one snoozing off when the other person's speaking. That's not a good sign.

"I'm a graphic designer. This client, in particular, is a local coffee shop, they're rebranding themselves but apparently, the two owners are having a hard time agreeing with what direction they want to go in. I'll get a green light from one and a red light from the other and it's been almost a week of this now." You ruffle your hair aggravatedly before stopping. "Sorry, I didn't mean to talk so much about work, I'm sure it's boring."

"A bit." My god dick, take a hint. You were trying to be polite earlier and here he is just openly calling your work boring. "But that's okay. You've got a lot on your plate. You drove here right?"

"Yup, I guess I'll talk to you later." Another lie. You have no intention of contacting him again. Even if he is hot and a doctor. Your friends would call you crazy to not be interested in him. But is it so wild to want to enjoy your time with the other partner? When did the world become about saving face and looking good? Was it always this way and you were just ignorant? No. Naive would be a better word for you. You needed to grow thicker skin.

Shownu doesn't even walk you to your car, not that you're bothered by it. You wanted to escape just as much as he did. Looks like you'll have to keep looking. Or maybe you should give up. Be a spinster. Widdle your days away in your work and be the fun aunt who comes around to steal stop signs and do dumb shit with your nieces and nephews. Yeah, that sounds a lot more like you than some boring marriage. Maybe. Or maybe you're just giving up. You can't tell. Maybe it's just the last glass of wine you had talking.

You look around before getting in your car, your eyes spotting a small record store across the street. You've lived in the city for ten years, yet you've never seen this tiny little gem before. It's tucked away, a small poorly lit sign simply saying 'records.' It looks so unusual here, in the posher side of town. But ten years ago this place hadn't been gentrified. It's like this one little building is holding out, refusing to conform. Unwilling to yield with the times, refusing to be aesthetically pleasing for some woman who owns a teacup poodle and drinks overpriced syrupy coffee who needs perfectly paved roads and has to speak to the manager. And before you can understand what you're doing you're jaywalking your ass right over to it.

It's cramped, wall to wall, row after row it's filled with vinyls of all colors. There's a few teenagers looking around, clearly affluent based off of their clothing but rebelling. At least that's what you're assuming based off of the designer clothing mixed with cheap hair dye and piercings. Ah, you remember those days. Except your clothes were hand-me-downs and goodwill finds. Maybe vinyls are cool again. You can remember thinking you were hot shit to finally get a walkman at a garage sale. CD's were already mainstream then but they weren't cheap. The kids at school didn't have pity on you for that. Not that it mattered to you, it felt like you finally had the whole world of music available to you whenever you wanted.

It feels nostalgic to go through the records. You can remember the way your oldest brother would begrudgingly take you with while he flirted with girls in a different record store. It was the spot, where only the raddest kids hung out. And now here you are almost three decades later in another record store late at night with just a bored employee and two rich kids who think they're hot shit for being in on something that others aren't. Ah, youth.

One record, in particular, pulls at you. You stop for a moment, thumbing it before gently picking it up. Christ, does wine give you all the yearning for nostalgia or are you just getting old? You'll go with the wine, it's a much more comforting thought than confronting your age right now. You want to hang this up. Remind yourself of who you were. Who you are. You've been losing sight. Maybe. It's hard to tell, life moves too fast the older you get. Or maybe it's that pesky malbec. The fact that you only had two glasses isn't important. You need a scapegoat for tonight. A way to ease this growing uncomfortable feeling in your chest. Like the world is falling apart and moving on and you're stuck somewhere. You aren't sure where. But you do know that you need this. So you march up to the register, the two brats in the shop trailing behind shortly after.

The boy, no that's definitely a fully grown man, lazily gazes up at you before taking the record and scanning it. You'd call him cute, but his eyes look a bit too hardened for that word. He looks like he's seen some shit and doesn't hide it from the world. Like he's ready for a fight at all times and probably sleeps with one eye open just in case. He'd be the type to survive a zombie apocalypse. "I didn't realize we even had any Atmosphere records. Wow, that takes me back."

"Ant really was ahead of his time. I mean, don't get me wrong, Slug is a great rapper, but the real key to their music was how Ant produced everything. Their new records are great too, but this one? This one's just a real gem."

"Hmmm, look at you, corporate hotshot getting her panties in a twist over some nineties backpack rappers." His words drawl lazily, a sardonic smile curling up and showing the gums of his teeth as he places the record in a bag. "The world is full of surprises." You aren't even sure what to say as he hands the bag over to you, standing there with your mouth agape before he nods his head. "You gonna move lady? I've got other people waiting." The teens behind you snicker, and you harden your eyes for just a moment before grabbing the bag and marching out. What a dick. A total dick. Tonight's not your night. Christ, what were you even doing there? You don't even have a record player.

You don't realize it until you get home twenty minutes later, still fuming as you pull the record out, that he's left behind his phone number on the receipt. "Call me when you're bored, Ms. Corporate." When did the fucker even get the time to do this? The little shit's fast. He didn't even give you his name. Why does that bother you so much? He was a dick. You shouldn't want to know his name. You go to rip up the receipt but for some reason you find yourself tacking it up on the fridge. Maybe you'll save it for a lonely, no scratch that, angry night. Reem his ass out for fun and then you'll tear it up. Yeah sure, that's why you're keeping it.

---------------------------------

A week's gone by and you still haven't taken down that stupid receipt from your fridge. You haven't gone back to the shop either. You've been too busy, surviving off of ramen and egg sandwiches while working painfully long hours until you want to tear your hair out. You finally reach some semblance of agreement between the two owners, and you've finally finished working on their project. You got it done faster than anticipated, you just wanted them out of your life. But now you have only small projects in the meanwhile. And that's dangerous. Because free time keeps allowing your brain to wander back to him. If you're Ms. Corporate then he's Mr. Dick. You kind of wonder what his dick looks like, if it's big enough to back up his ego or not. You'd rather die than admit that. Shit, what are you thinking? If you've got time to fuck around then you've got time to pick up some more clients.

---------------------

You aren't sure how you wound back up here, but suddenly you're back in the same vinyl shop with Mr. Dick behind the counter again. You refuse to acknowledge the inner glee at seeing his face again. You barely even look in his direction, instead, you start rifling through the records before picking out a few more. Once you start digging through you find your brain focusing more on the artwork, on the way how everything comes together, nostalgia blossoming as you thumb through familiar covers. Radiohead, The Roots, Sade, Maxwell. Lord, you can remember your first boyfriend putting Maxwell on while making out with you in the car. You called him an old man, said it was probably what your parents put on to have sex. He was dejected, you thought it was funny but sweet. He didn't see it that way. So it goes.

You quietly walk up to the counter, a soft smile playing on your face as you carefully place everything before the look on your face is wiped back to a careful blank slate when you see Mr. Dick cocking a half-grin at you. He looks like the type of guy that high school girls used to cream themselves over, they probably still do. The kind that always has a cigarette in hand, definitely used to be a skater, probably has a secret love child on the other side of the country, maybe did some minor time for a couple of DUIs. You almost want to laugh at the way you're trying so hard to picture his life. The poor dude's probably just totally normal, or maybe you hit the nail on the head. What does it matter, he's just some random dick.

"Ms. Corporate, you're back I see."

"I am."

"Always a pleasure to see a pretty gal in here, but especially when it's you." You roll your eyes and he grins at this, you hate the way how your defenses almost momentarily break at just how cute he is when he smiles, really smiles. Here you were trying to figure out if he's done time or not and suddenly you're wanting to pinch his cheek. Christ, you need to get out more. And you don't mean back here either. "I'm a little sad though, you never did give me a call."

"I never got bored. Besides, what was I even supposed to do? Call you up and go, hey the dick behind the counter at the record store, I'm bored?" He laughs at this, a full belly laugh before he cocks his head to the side.

"You're an interesting one Ms. Corporate. Here I was trying to figure you out, and you've thrown me for another loop. I wasn't lying though, I was disappointed that I didn't hear from you."

Your eyes narrow for a moment, trying hard to fight the heat that so desperately wants to rise to your cheeks. "Like I said, I wasn't bored. And I'm not interested in speaking to random nameless douchebags."

He nods his head, sliding your credit card and humming for a moment before the machine chirps and he hands over your bag and receipt. Before you can turn around he's speaking again, "Yoongi. Min Yoongi." You stare at him for a moment before he continues, "Now I'm not a nameless douche."

"A named douche doesn't fair any better in my books. I suppose I should've said that first."

"Fair enough, but at least I don't buy old man sex music in the middle of the night." You can't help but laugh at that, Maxwell really is old man sex music so you can't blame him. In fact, some twisted part of you is elated that he thinks so too. Not that you'd admit that to even yourself.

"Have a good night, Min Yoongi." He looks startled for a second, he's almost transfixed on the way you laugh. You can't feel his eyes trailing you as you walk out the door, you're far too focused on trying to calm the strangely warm fuzzy feeling trying to take over you to notice.

-------------------------

Life is strange, no matter what age you are things will pop up that you can't explain how exactly it's happened, or why it's happened. The trick to being an adult is looking like you know what the fuck is going on, but the honest truth is no one does. Maybe they think they do, maybe they really do more often than not, but no one does one hundred percent of the time. That's the honest truth. The entirety of humanity is a mass of dumbasses pretending to look like they know what's going on. You are indeed one of those dumbasses, another fish in a large school trying not to be eaten but having no clue what lays beyond the school of fish ninety percent of the time. Your predator goes by the name of Min Yoongi. Perhaps he doesn't even see himself as a predator nor you as prey, but that's exactly how you see it. It's been over a month since you last stepped foot in his workplace. There should be no need to go. You now have five vinyls and still no record player. Most would call them poor financial choices and an odd way to splurge. You've thought about it more than you can count though, going back to see him that is. That stupid fucking receipt is still hanging up on your fridge, and it's taken everything in your willpower to not call him randomly.

Min Yoongi. You wonder, far too often for your own good, who he is. What he likes, dislikes. What makes him tick. What gets him off. You blame him. It's the way he looks at you. Cold eyes, analyzing you to your very soul. Sneering at you one second, taunting you smugly, before switching to the sweetest smile you've ever seen. You've only seen him twice, no longer than a few minutes at a time. You don't know if you can even say that you've ever had a real conversation with him. He doesn't even know your name. And yet he runs through your thoughts on repeat. You would love to be able to settle on a normal human. A good guy, someone like Shownu. Safe, stable, traditionally handsome, a great career. But your stupid fucking brain feels nothing around a guy like him and then suddenly it sparks and rewires itself around a douche named Min Yoongi who you actually wondered if he did time or not. Life is strange. So it goes.

It's thoughts like these that are your downfall. Late at night, all alone in bed. Pondering what he's doing, who he's doing. You're sure a deadbeat like him has a slew of girls at his beck and call. He certainly acts like it. But that shouldn't matter to you. After a month of wondering, going back and forth, staring longingly at the fridge, you're picking up your phone and slowly entering in the numbers. One digit takes you nearly thirty seconds, the last time it took you this long to call someone was when you were staying at your grandmother's house using her outdated rotary phone as a child. And here you are, a grown woman, terrified over some dick who works at a record store. Life is strange, you can't help but think as you delete the numbers and enter them back in. Should you, shouldn't you? What's to gain? What's to lose? Life is about strategy, isn't it? Does he offer you anything? Perhaps temporary release is all you need. But can he actually offer that? Maybe. Hopefully. Maybe not. Who knows. It's a risk. Not a calculated one either. In fact, odds are heavily stacked against him. And the adult in you says to not bother. That's what vibrators are for, if all you're looking for is a release. But there's another voice, something longing for this. There's something about him that plays on repeat in your head. Something that stirs up oddly sentimental feelings in you when you think of him. Which is strange, you don't know him. So how can sentimentality be tied to someone you just met? Maybe it's just part of his trade for soon to be old spinsters like you, you guess.

You take another deep breath, staring at the screen as you sink down to the floor of the kitchen and finally hit the dial button. Shit. Fuck. What are you doing? This isn't like you. You haven't thought out every exit strategy yet. Christ. Oh god. "Hello?" His voice is deeper over the phone. You won't explain how that makes you feel, it's a bit embarrassing honestly.

"Yoongi?"

"Ms. Corporate?"

"...Yes..." That's right, you never told him his name. There's garbled background noise for a minute, you hear him telling someone to shut the fuck up before it's eerily silent for a moment and then you hear a breathy chuckle. And oh god, you are so so so fucking screwed.

"Holy shit. I didn't think you'd actually call. Just when I thought you forgot all about me you actually call."

"I was bored." You bite back a smile, head resting on your fridge as you stare up at the ceiling. Jesus, you should dust more often, is that a spiderweb?

He gives a sing-song laugh, and that strange tipsy feeling in your gut bubbles back up again. You feel oddly nervous, kind of giddy. When's the last time you felt this way? You don't know if you ever did. "Holy Christ. I'm sorry, give me a moment, this just...makes me weirdly happy. Fuck. Shit. -I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO HOME. Sorry, not you Ms. Corporate. Just uh, a friend. He's a dipshit. A bit drunk. Having girlfriend troubles I guess. Dunno why he came to me. I uh...I dunno why I'm telling you this either. Christ. Are you still there?"

"I'm here." You don't know what to say. Fuck. Why did you call?? It's been nearly thirty seconds and you've already lost all confidence in saying anything. This is why you need a plan, a strategy. When you don't know how to proceed the only option is to deflect. So deflect you shall. "How did you know it was me?"

"I've answered nearly every unknown number asking if it was you for about six weeks now if I was very honest. Not that you needed to know that." You swear you can hear him give an awkward chuckle. How unexpected. Perhaps staying behind the counter gives him an odd confidence boost. Or maybe he's been drinking just like his friend and is being a bit too honest. You're not sure why, but that doesn't feel like such a bad thing to you. The lack of snark is as startling as it is endearing.

"Well, I've kept your stupid receipt pinned to my fridge for the last six weeks. Not that you need to know that." You smile at the way he laughs this time, mentally visualizing his gummy smile. Maybe you should have face timed him. But then he'd see you looking like a full damn mess in the middle of the night. You'll just have to imagine what he looks like.

"You're really cute Ms. Corporate. Really obnoxiously cute for someone who has the strangest taste in music. I mean you went from Atmosphere to Radiohead to Maxwell. I'm sure it branches out even further than that and hopefully to a few other decades. I'm curious."

"About what? My music tastes?"

"Well yeah. And a lot of other things about you. Like I said, I've been trying to figure you out. You run around in my thoughts all day lately. That's not fair Ms. Corporate. Not fair at all. At least you can think of me as the douche with the name. But all I've got is Ms. Corporate with weird music tastes."

"Hmm...."

"What do you mean hmmm? Isn't this your cue to, oh I don't know, tell me your name?"

"It's fun this way. Safe. Now I don't have to worry about you looking me up and finding my place and chopping me up into pieces."

"Pretty sure I would've done that beforehand if that were the case, you know, cover my tracks and not leave my number behind or anything. Come on Ms. Corporate, you're killing me. I want to know if your name is as pretty as your face."

You give it a moment, relishing silently in the exasperated sighs you hear over the phone, his feet shuffling loudly against pavement before finally, you speak up. "(Y/N). My name's (y/n)."

"(Y/N)." The way he says your name slowly has tingles running up your spine, your cheeks heating up at the way it almost feels like he's savoring your name. Christ, what is it about this cheeky devil? One second he's captain douche and the next second he's adorable and then suddenly he has your toes curling just from the way he says your name. He has 'bad idea' written all over him in big bold letters and yet here you are, sitting on your kitchen floor grinning like a fool. When's the last time you smiled this much? Shit, that's a depressing thought, let's not think about that. "That's a pretty name. It fits you."

"You sure do seem to be all compliments tonight. I'm wondering when sir asswipe will come out."

"I save him for the store. Customer service will do that to you." That's...fair enough. But still. And why does that make you laugh? Why is it that everything just seems so easy with him? "(Y/N)." He pauses for a moment, you hear a lighter clicking in the background before he takes a drag. Well, it looks like you got one thing right, he's a smoker. Ashtray tongue, not that great. You bet he makes it look hot though. "I wanna see you."

You don't respond, breathing halting for a moment before you hum. You want to see him too, that's the honest truth. You want to get to know him, explore him. Open him up and examine his thoughts, lay in bed and talk for hours, maybe throw on that Maxwell record and see what happens. Wait...what the fuck are you thinking? You can't help but burst out laughing, stopping when you realized that you probably sound absolutely insane and rude. Insanely rude. "Wait, no I wasn't laughing that you want to see me, it's just...I don't know why but that stupid Maxwell album popped into my head." You pause, terrified that he'll be angry or upset or realize that you're a bumbling idiot but instead, he gives a sing-song laugh. God, you want to see his face too.

"Okay, real talk though, why did you buy old man porn music?"

"I felt like I had to, I don't know, buy it to repent for my sins?" He's wheezing now, his laughter becoming infectious until you find yourself cracking up with him. Why is it so easy to talk to him?

"What in the fuck does that even mean?"

"I feel like at this point, it's better without explaining. But I will anyway. When I was in high school I was dating this dude who broke up with me because I made fun of him for putting on a Maxwell tape when we made out in his car. I told him it was old man sex music, and when you said it when I was checking out it confirmed that while I was right, I owed poor Maxwell my money I guess. I don't know. I'm not making any sense am I?"

"Kind of? Not really? I get the feeling that I'll always still be wondering a bit with you though. Not that that's a bad thing. You're weird (Y/N), but good weird. I certainly didn't expect this from a corporate hotshot."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Well, you look like you work in an office. You don't?"

"Nope. I own my own business, I'm a graphic designer. But I was on a date the first time I popped in, oh and the second time I popped in I had just finalized some things with a client in person."

"You...you wore a business suit on a...date? I don't mean to be rude but um...how old exactly are you (Y/N)? Like what era did you come from?"

"Ah, Monsuire Jerkwad appears again. I'm 30 for your information. Which is an old biddy in my mother's eyes."

"Whaaaat? I mean I figured from your music choices you were about my age, but wow. Look at that, I'm just one year older than you. I guess that makes me whatever the fuck the male version of an old biddy is. Say though, (Y/N), why for fuck's sake would you wear a business suit on a date? You didn't answer that earlier." Huh. So he's just a year older than you. You thought that he was younger actually. Man, asian really don't raisin. You briefly wonder what his skincare routine is. Or maybe he's one of those bastards that just uses Irish spring soap for everything and still magically looks great with no idea that there's a difference between moisturizer and lotion.

"Ah...well, I went on the date after meeting with a client. But I mean, it was like a hot librarian suit right?" You can tell by the laughter that you were way off the mark. "Yeah...okay so it was just a normal suit. But whatever, I didn't feel a need to get dressed up for him."

"What, is the guy a slob or something?"

"Nah, in fact, it couldn't be further from that. But I dunno I just didn't really jive with him."

"But you went on a date with him anyway?"

"I told you Yoongi, I'm an old biddy. I'm drying up over here. Eggs ticking or whatever. At least according to every single family member, even the extended ones I rarely talk to."

"Being a chick must be rough, I feel like they nag you guys extra hard. But I get it, my folks are always pestering me to get married. Settle down, find a career, have kids. Shit, at this point they don't even care what order it happens. If I came home with some random baby I think they wouldn't even be angry they'd just be like 'finally, little Mins.' It doesn't help that my brother and his wife don't want to try for kids for another couple of years so suddenly all the pressure's on me."

"God, I felt that in my soul. Why can't they just let us breathe? It's like my life revolves around finding someone to make my parents happy all of a sudden. I don't even know when that happened. Or how, or why. But it's like, I've gotta keep up with everyone else you know? I feel like somewhere along the line I got left behind."

"Did you though?" He takes a long drag, and you swear you can practically smell the cigarette through the phone. You bet he's a clove kind of guy, he's too weird to go for menthols. "I mean, did you really get left behind? Life happens for everyone at different times. What's so wrong about that? Trust me, I get the pressure and the nagging and the bullshit. But at the end of the day, this is your life. Live it without regrets. Why settle just because other people tell you that you should? That seems boring as fucking hell."

Life really is strange. Who would have guessed that some random dick in a random record store you'd never been to before a shitty date would suddenly be the one lifting the burden off your shoulder as if it had never been there? Everyone else was always telling you that it would happen, that the right guy would come along and soon enough you'd be married and having kids and all would be grand. But the honest truth is...that's not what you want. You don't even know if you want kids. And marriage? Man, that just seems like something you don't need in your life right now. When did you get so wrapped up in feeling like you'd been left in the dust that you felt you had to do the exact same things to keep up?

Somewhere, in the core of your very being, you probably knew right then and there that you were getting into way too deep of territory for someone you had just met. But you had dropped your guard, refused to acknowledge any warning signs. How could you when someone finally was telling you that it was okay to just live? He told you the words that you needed the most without even knowing it. You can feel tears threating to rise but you gulp everything down and instead just give a quiet thanks. You just hear the drag of his cigarette again before he responds with an equally quiet no problem. It feels like the world could stop, right there and then. As if it was just the two of you, frozen in your own separate corners of earth while quietly listening to the static from the phone and all would be well. It felt safe. Dangerously safe.

"Fuck, I need to charge my phone it's about to-" With that, the call drops and you stare at your phone for a moment. Maybe it was for the best that his phone died, who knows what you would have said to him if you stayed on the phone any longer. You just practically spilled your guts to a virtual stranger from your kitchen floor at one in the morning. And yet, for the first time in a long time, all you can do is stare happily at your phone before finally forcing yourself into bed.

The next morning you may or may not have squealed like a complete buffoon upon reading the text you missed from him after falling asleep. "Sorry bout that. Next time tho, I wanna see you in person. That way there's no worries about my phone dying." Shit. It's too early for this kind of attack. You'll blame being half-awake for why you responded with just a simple "K." You only have your own neuroticism to blame for your internal freakouts that constantly reoccur over the next few days when you don't hear anything back. Maybe you were a bit too dry. Okay...you most certainly were too dry. Christ, if there's ever been a dead fish version of a text, that would be it. Maybe you should have expected to fumble this badly. Maybe it's a good thing. He didn't seem like the type to really be interested in anything other than playing around. Not that you were expecting anything. Right? Okay...well maybe you did kind of really want to make out with him. Which is strange, because honestly, you can't remember the last time you even thought of wanting to make out with someone. University years maybe? But now's not the time to be thinking about that! Nows the perfect time to throw yourself into work, it's the best scapegoat for avoiding emotions you'd rather not explore.

----------------

"Wow, your boredom intervals are quickly decreasing. Do you not have a lot of work right now or?" Jesus what in the fuck are you even thinking, dragging your ass in this stupid fucking store in the middle of the night for a third time. And you still don't have a goddamn record player. God, you pray he never finds that out. He'd probably never stop making fun of you.

You can't help but shoot a glare in his direction, but your nerves falter the moment you see the shit-eating grin on his face. You swear you can feel your breath hitch in the back of your throat and trap itself. It's suffocating. Blinding. It's not fair. He's so handsome. Dark disheveled hair partially obscuring his coffee-colored eyes, gummy grin, obnoxiously white teeth for a smoker, milky pale skin that's always at stark odds with his typical black t-shirt, veiny hands. This isn't good. This isn't fair. You really want to kiss him.

"What, cat got your tongue or something Ms. Corporate?" He's leaning across the counter, head cocked as he openly ogles you. It's not fair. You've been a wreck for the last few days, waiting around for some sort of a response and this fucking shrimp is acting like you never spoke. Like nothing changed. Like he didn't tell you he wanted to see you in person. It's probably just your own stupidity or neuroticism peaking through, but when he called you Ms. Corporate it felt like that perfect paradise on the phone was all a mirage. As if it never happened. It's infuriating how he can act so calm. Before you can continue overthinking and turning around in circles you march up to the counter and grip his shirt in your hand, pulling him in for a kiss that he reciprocates unusually quickly. You can feel his tongue slide across your lower lip, asking for entrance when the sound of the door chimes pull you quickly away. Damn these stupid kids buying records in the middle of the night. Don't they have a curfew?? Fucking rich kids trying to be edgy when they should be at home, in bed, not fucking interrupting this not so Hallmark moment.

"Stop fucking calling me Ms. Corporate, you colossal idiot." You can distantly hear him sending you off with a hoarse 'goodnight.' Everything in you wants to turn around and see what kind of a face he's making. Is he just making fun of you? Is he as hot and bothered as you from a kiss? It felt like electricity ran up your spine like everything was floating for a moment, the world just goes away when you're with him and all that's there is the two of you. Fuck. You like Sargeant fuckface from the record store. And even though you have a feeling that all of this is a terrible idea you can't help but grin to yourself the entire way home. Hey, at least this time you didn't waste more money on records you can't play.

You aren't sure if it's the place, or Yoongi, or your increasing age that your mother likes to remind you of constantly (not that you'd ever admit that) that makes you feel so nostalgic, so sentimental. But whenever you're around him it hits you hard. When did love lose innocence, when did it stop simply being about selfishly, greedily wanting to learn everything about the other person and staying by their side? When did it grow to be a chore, a thing that you did because it was another step on the ladder of life? And why is it that when you're around him all you can feel is those same simple straightforward feelings? Fuck, you want to kiss him again. His lips were so soft, and you were right, he tasted like Djarum Blacks. You wonder how he got them, you're pretty sure that there's a ban on them now. Ashy, a bit of clove lingering on his lips. Lingering on yours. God, it's almost infuriating how happy that makes you. Almost. But right now, you're too wrapped up in glee to be annoyed. You hope that somehow, someday, you'll manage to wrap him around your finger the way he has you so effortlessly wrapped over his. Not that you're complaining. If you're going to be wrapped around anyone's fingers, you're okay with it being his. Not that you've been staring at them whenever he handed you your bags or anything. Nope. That definitely wasn't the case. Maybe.

When you get back home you try your hardest to stay busy, but your thoughts keep wandering back. Jesus, you think it would be easier to control your brain. It isn't until your phone clatters off the counter that you realize Yoongi's calling you, and for a moment you squint at the phone before hastily picking it up and answering. Shit wait, act cool. "'Sup Colonel nitwit?" Fuck, wait that wasn't cool. Christ, why are you like this? What are you, a twelve-year-old boy? You should probably seek counseling for your stupidity. Or maybe not, because when you hear that sing-song laughter reverberating through your ears it suddenly makes everything feel okay again.

"You're something (y/n). A real piece of work. I mean you called me an idiot earlier, no wait, a colossal idiot and now I'm Colonel nitwit?" He laughs again, and once again you find yourself sliding down the fridge onto the floor, blushing as you blink up at the ceiling. Dejavu. "Ah, this is bad. I should have texted you. Hearing your voice makes me want to see you in person."

"Foul. Out of bounds. That's not fair play. You aren't allowed to say things that cute."

"You fouled first, who just marches up to someone and kisses them at their place of work?"

"It's not like anyone else was there." You're glad he isn't here to see your face, you're already grinning like a fool and you have a feeling that he'd tease you mercilessly if he could see you right now.

"Until those damn brats showed up." Ah, it makes you painfully happy that he was just as annoyed as you were. "I don't know what it is about you, but you just run around my thoughts all damn day."

"So why didn't you ever text me back?"

"AH! About that, I realized after I hung up that you said you were out on a date that first time and I suddenly started feeling like a homewrecker. I mean, I know you said that you didn't seem interested in him or maybe that was me just hoping I heard that I dunno everything feels kind of fuzzy now. My memories are hazy I just-"

"It was just a date, not a boyfriend. I'm not the type to talk to others when I'm sincerely dating. Although I'm also not the type to call up guys who leave me their numbers on receipts. I guess the world is full of surprises."

"God, this is really bad, I really wanna see your face. And you can't tell me that this isn't fair play when you basically just called me special."

"I'm sorry, but what language were you thinking I was speaking that that's what you came up with? Because I'm pretty sure I didn't come close to saying that."

"No no, it was totally there. In the subtext. It's all about the subtext you know. I mean you said that you aren't the type to call guys who give you their number on a receipt and yet you still called me. That makes me special."

"Bwa-what's with that. You dork. Shit, now I wanna see your face."

"Where are you? I'll come over to you."

"I'm at my home. Scary. Maybe you are a serial killer and that's really your goal. You know, to chop me up in little pieces or some weird shit."

"Wanna take the risk?"

"Kind of."

"Only kind of??? What's with that lukewarm response? I'm clearly not a serial killer. But I won't act like I don't have nefarious intentions." You can hear the clicking of the lighter, and you can't help but take a deep inhale at the same time as him. God, you bet he looks hot smoking. Wait no, smoking is bad. Very very bad. "Where'd your thoughts go right now, (y/n)?" It's not fair. He has you wrapped around his finger. You want to see him, you want to inhale his scent, run your fingers through his hair, taste him, touch him, fuck him. Fuck. When's the last time a guy got you this hot and bothered from merely existing? Has this ever actually happened? You aren't sure.

"I'm curious, describe these nefarious intentions please."

There's a pause, another drag of his cigarette. "Alright, I'll start with the less deviant things. I can't get the feeling of your lips outta my head. I want to kiss you, hold you, touch you. It's weird, I'm not normally the type for soft fluffy things. But the world is strange, as you said. You do weird things to my brain (y/n). You run around my thoughts night and day. When the door chimes at work I turn into Pavlov's dog and hope it's you." There's another long pause, for a moment all you hear is the thudding of your heart rushing into your eardrums and the soft staccato of static coming from your phone.

"Those don't seem very nefarious to me."

"Interesting, so you DO want to hear my deviant thoughts."

"Well, calling your intentions nefarious is a rather interesting way of putting it. It makes it sound more sinister and less...I dunno...sexual? And then when you explained it all seemed rather, I don't know...innocent I guess."

"That's because I don't wanna scare you off, Ms. Corporate."

"Again with that stupid name?"

"I wanna fuck you." Shit, you weren't expecting him to be that straightforward, especially after he seemed to be beating around the bush earlier. And why are you now a mix of happy and horny? That's a new mix for you. "I want to see what kind of faces you make when you cum. I want to taste you. I want to see you under me, on top of me, I want to hear you beg, I want to hear you scream my name. I want to ruin you until all you can think of is me. Until all that satisfies you is me, because right now all I can think of is you. All I want is you. And it doesn't feel fair to not see you in that same boat. So what do you say, (y/n)? Do you still want to see me tonight?"

You want to tell him that you're also in the same boat, that really the two of you have been going in circles with the same thoughts for probably just as long. Both of you are so greedy, wanting and thinking of nothing but ruining the other. But ruin seems an unfair word, it seems to scratch only the surface. The honest truth is that you just wholeheartedly want the other person, you want them under your thumb to declare them yours. Maybe. It's strange. You were always the kind of girl to take things slow. You never did one night stands, you never had fuck buddies or booty calls or anything even close to resembling that. Sex was always something that came far later in a relationship. But this? You aren't even sure what it is. You can't exactly say he's a friend, you don't really know him. You can't say that you aren't on the way to becoming lovers, but then again he might be thinking of things from a strictly physical standpoint. You aren't sure. Maybe you should ask. Someday perhaps. If you were frank though all of this excites you. Fascinates you. Terrifies you ever so slightly. But all you can think of at this moment is that it elates you to no end that he wants you just as much as you want him. How absolutely greedy. "I do. I probably shouldn't, but I do."

"Yeah," the dark chuckle on the other line brings heat up to your face, your breath catching in your throat. He suffocates you even with the simplest of things, even with a laugh. "Yeah, you probably shouldn't. You strike me as a good girl. The type to always please others before pleasing herself. The type to not rebel. I don't know why, but I feel I should at least tell you this. I'm not a good guy, I'm not the guy you take home to your parents or the kind of dude you can gush about to all of your friends. But I am at least confident that I can give you a reprieve. It's gotta be stressful, being good all the time constantly working for others, constantly pleasing others. But who tries to please you, understand you, allows you to just be selfish every once in a while? I can be that for you. I want to be that for you. Which is really weird because I usually hate when chicks want that from me. And here I am offering myself up on a silver platter to you. Man, the guys would think I've gone crazy if I told them this. I don't even get it, but there's just something about you that makes me feel...I dunno something."

It's strange, how little he knows you and yet he says the things you need to hear the most. When is the last time you did something simply because you wanted to before he stumbled into your life? Did you ever? Here you were hot and bothered before and now you want to cry big fat ugly happy tears. Yoongi gives you emotional whiplash with just a few words. It's not fair. "I want to see you. Tonight."

"Okay." Another drag, another chuckle. "Okay, then send me your address."

You fumble with the phone, texting the address over to him quickly, your heart jumping out of your throat the entire time. The anticipation has your heart soaring and nerves dropping deep into your belly, you're a mess of a multitude of emotions all at the same time.

"Wow, would you look at that. You're only about ten minutes away from me. I'll be over soon." Before you can respond he hangs up, and you're left staring at the ceiling wondering momentarily what you've just gotten yourself into before you're scrambling off the kitchen floor and into your bedroom. Shit, shit. You don't have much time. The house is presentable, barely. Whatever. It'll have to do. You brush your teeth, comb out your hair quickly, and do a quick once over. He'll have to just deal with your bare face, but hey at least you shaved in the bath earlier. The doorbell chimes right as you throw an oversized sweater over one of your nicer lace bras you quickly changed into. You nearly knock into every door and corner on your way to the front door, slipping slightly at the entrance before taking a deep breath and opening it.

He's painfully good looking, but his trademark blase pokerface has you ever so slightly annoyed. Here you were rushing about, a bundle of nerves and energy, and he looks remarkably indifferent to everything. As if he didn't just tell you that he has, and you quote, nefarious intentions. But that thought runs right out the door the moment he narrows his eyes on you and gives you one of his award-winning gummy grins. You're so fucked. You're such a sucker for him already. "You okay?"

"What, yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You open the door wider, motioning him to come in before shutting the door gently behind him.

"Because you look nervous. Relax, I'm not here to eat you. Eat you out, maybe. If that's what you want. I'm only here to give you whatever you want." He narrows his eyes on you again, his gaze sweeping over you before looking directly at you. It feels like he can see right through you, right down to your very soul. It's comforting, terrifying, it's like everything that comes with him is a euphoric blend of polar opposites leaving you to drown somewhere in the in-between. He makes you feel like you're in the eye of the storm but precariously close to being tossed into the chaos raging all around you.

"I hate to say this, but that sounds almost too good to be true. What's in it for you?" You tilt your head, analyzing him as you lean back against the door while trying to feign nonchalance.

"You. And oddly enough, for once that's enough for me." He shrugs at this comment, although his eyes narrow a bit as if even he can't even believe that he just admitted this.

"What if I said I didn't want more? Or what if I said that I wanted no strings attached if there is more? Or if I said-"

"-I want strings attached. No, I need strings attached." You can't help but blink owlishly back at him as you try to digest this information. You pegged him for a wham-bam-thank you ma'am but I'm never calling you again type of man. "Call me crazy, I mean this is totally out of my typical wheelhouse but I realized that I was jealous when you said you were on a date right before you first came into the shop. If we're going to do this I want strings attached. Call it whatever you want, but whatever this is it's just me and you babe. No one else."

"No one else on either side?" Greedy, selfish, but fair. You're over the moon that for whatever reason he's just the same as you. At least, when it comes to this situation. God, you want him. All of him. You want to sink deeper into this, drown yourself in him, lose yourself in all that he has to offer you. That's dangerous. But you don't care, you're already too far gone. You can feel your stomach tighten, mind halting as he stalks closer to you, his breath hot on your ear as one hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"No one else on either side." His eyes travel down from your eyes to your lips before slowly wandering back up. God, you just want him to kiss you already.

"Deal." Why do you feel like you might have just made a pact with the devil? And why is it that you still really don't care, as long as it means you get to finally taste him again. Fucking hell, you're pretty sure all of your sanity flies right out the window when he's involved. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips, just a few centimeters away from your own. So close, so close. It's like time has stilled. As if the world has fallen away and yet again all that's left is the two of you. Falling, falling. Sinking. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. Into a chasm of euphoric insanity of pleasure.

Slowly, painfully slowly, you move your hand to his cheek the other hand winding up the firm planes of his chest. That surprises you, you thought he'd be more delicate. He certainly seems delicately built at first glance, but looks can be deceiving. His eyes never leave your own, his sights set squarely on you. Refusing to look away. Refusing to run. A deal has been made with the devil, and the devil is letting you know you aren't about to leave his crosshairs. "Kiss me, Yoongi." That signature lazy half-smile of his appears for just a fraction before his lips are on yours. He's spicy, ashy. That damn clove has your toes curling, sighing, melting into his touch. Fucking hell. You're already wet, thighs trembling, hands curling his shirt into a ball, as he licks into your mouth.

The beat of your heart sounds painfully loud in your eardrums. Every sound is fuzzy, staticky as if you're still on the phone. Your own groans almost sound distant, his sighs sound so soft. So content. It feels like the two of you have been dunked in molasses. Time has slowed down for both of you. Moving so slowly, tenderly. Almost as if you're starstruck lovers who have just one night to cherish each other. As if you've known each other's bodies forever but have never been allowed to explore them. It feels like a fragile spell, moving too quickly might break the magic and the devil will run home with his nefarious intentions long forgotten. His hand grips tighter for a moment before wandering down, palming and massaging your ass before picking up your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He takes the small change in stature to detach from your lips, both of you watching with glossy eyes as a thing string of saliva breaks. "You're beautiful (y/n)." A hoarse whisper, kind words from a man with a crass mouth. It makes you want to be feral, it makes you want to slow down. It makes you want everything. Nothing but him. He drives you to the brink of insanity with all these diametrically opposing wants and needs.

A long low moan tumbles out of your lips at the feeling of his tongue gliding across the prominent vein of your neck before sinking his lips down. Soft petals of pinks and red appear in his wake, a trail of cherry blossoms in spring-time painted on your skin leading up to your ear before his teeth gently press down on your lobe. Shit. That feels way too good. Toes curling, fingers wrapping into his hair and his tongue tangles skillfully around your ear until suddenly he's off, his eyes boring back into your own as your breathing tries to slow back down. "Tell me what you want, (y/n). What do you want from me?"

If any other man would have asked you that, with such a knife-sharp gaze, you surely would have clammed up. You've never been the vocal type. But you're too far lost in his eyes to care. There's a part of you that desperately hopes your own wants will please him, that he'll sink deeper with you into this chasm of pleasure with you. "I want to suck you off."

The admission seems to catch him off guard for a moment, there's almost an innocence to the way he blinks back at you but that's gone quickly enough that you almost imagine if you really saw it or not. Replaced by a wolfish grin, desire bubbling across his features, infecting your skin, your core. As if the madness is catching. "Well well well. Who knew little Ms. Corporate had that in her? I can't say the idea of you on your knees hasn't been in my mind before. I also can't lie and say that it isn't one of the most exquisite things I've ever thought of. But I thought I told you that this was about you? About your pleasure? Are you sure that's what you want?" Your brain processes his words slowly, you're far too focused on his growing erection pressing against your inner thigh to think clearly and quickly.

"I told you, Yoongi. I want you. I want you to lose yourself just as much as me." That's right, you want to watch him fall into pleasure just as you have. You want this madness, this desire, this sin to grip him tightly just as it has gripped you. You're greedy that way. And right now the greatest satisfaction you could receive is seeing him out of control, and you in it. You might be on your knees for him, but he'll be under your spell.

You unlatch your legs slowly, trembling slightly as you lace your fingers through his and pull him along to your bedroom silently. All you can hear is the hum of the A/C and the sound of your shallow breathing when you push through the bedroom door and lead him to the edge of the bed. Before you can move, his hands are quickly pulling off your sweater and tugging down your leggings until you're left in just your underwear. "I'm not about to have you finally blow me and you're still dressed." His fingers gracefully move around your back, unlatching your bra and tossing it behind you. It's feverish, the look he sends you. All you can think of is that you want more. You want to see him look at you like that all day. As if you're the only woman he wants. As if he needs you. You can't even respond, too lost in the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you whole. So instead you move forward a step, tugging his t-shirt over his head and staring for a second at his bare skin.

He has those skinny boy abs, the kind that you always felt weren't fair because it comes naturally from stupid fast metabolisms and not hard work. But you aren't going to complain right now, not when he looks so good and he's yours. All yours. Whatever this is, he made a deal, no one else. You can be as greedy as you want because he's just the same. You sink down onto your knees, your eyes locking onto his as you unbuckle his belt and toss it off to the side. You aren't sure if it's just your hopeful imagination or if you really do hear his breath catch in his throat as you slowly unzip his jeans before letting them fall to the floor. He's a briefs kind of guy, thank god. You've always hated how boxers look on men. He takes a moment to shuffle out of his pants completely before prying off his tight black briefs, and your mouth instinctively waters at the sight.

He's thick, veiny, and you're happy to report that he keeps everything well-groomed. Thank god, no pubes will be stuck in your teeth tonight. Heat rises up to your cheeks at the way he looks at you with carnal anticipation. Suddenly you aren't so sure about all your earlier internal bravado about being the one to make him sink deeper into pleasure with you. He's looking at you like a predator stalking his prey. As if a meal has just presented itself to him on a silver platter. But you'll change that, you want nothing more than to watch that mask fall off. You want him to break. To fall. To tremble underneath your touch the way you shake with anticipation and euphoria under his watchful gaze.

It's with an unwavering determination that you finally grasp his dick in your hand, staring up at him as you pepper soft kisses around his tip. He's salty, tangy, drooling with precum. Delicious. Sinful. Perfect. You refuse to move your gaze off of his eyes, you want to watch him. You want to see how he falls apart. It only takes one long lick from the base to the tip to start seeing the signs, the way his Adam's apple bobs and his gaze clouds over ever so slightly. It's minute, but it's there. God, you want him. More than you've ever wanted another person. Greedily, in hopes of breaking him, you pull him into your mouth. Inch by inch, until your nose is pressed firmly against his dark patch of hair and his hand is fast to wrap around your hair and grips you tightly until a slight sting can be felt in your scalp. You didn't know you were into that, but the sensation leaves your core throbbing. Aching. Shit. You pull back up, licking around the tip with one hand jerking in slow steady motions as the other one holds his balls in your palm. Rolling them gently until you finally dive back down. There's a dull ache in your jaw already, and you have to steady your breathing to take him whole. He's just long enough to reach past your uvula and activate your gag reflex if you aren't careful. But the way his thighs flex and the guttural groans you hear are enough to have you wanting more. It's beautiful, the way he unravels. Just for you. Only you. You made a deal with the devil after all.

"Holy fuck, you're good at this." His head is tilted back, the veins on free arm popping as it curls into a fist. You can see a thin veil of sweat covering his chest and his breathing sounds uneven, small groans and grunts breaking the rhythm. It spurs you on, moaning slightly at the way his dick pulses and throbs in your mouth. "God, (y/n). You're too fucking hot. It's not fair, shit, how someone can look that good. You look like you were made to be on your knees, fuck. God, you don't even know how much I've thought about this. I've been like a goddamn high school kid, jerking off to the thought of you every night." You finally close your eyes, concentrating harder on his words and his dick. Shit, have you ever had a guy be this vocal before? It's such a turnon. God, you want him. You want him so badly you feel like you could burst. It's not fair, how even when he starts falling apart, his composure finally going out the window, you're just a bigger mess. Both mentally and physically. You feel like you could wring a gallon out of your panties, your thighs are already drenched. You can't remember the last time you were this wet. Have you ever been this wet? Fuck, what is Yoongi doing to you?

His thighs tremble and flex in spasms, his groans increasing and you open your eyes back up to see his sight's back on you. He looks so fucked out, hair a mess and cheeks flushed. You wish you could take a picture of this. No man should be this pretty, it almost isn't fair. You can't help but moan as his hand yanks your head further down before his grip relaxes. "Shit, shit, sorry, but I'm going to, fuck, cum. So if you don't want it-" You manage to silence him by putting his hand back on your head and slacking your jaw. A silent permission to use it as he wants. He understands your nonverbal command instantly. He gives a dark chuckle as he shakes his head. "Fuck. You really are too good to me, (y/n)." He doesn't waste time, nor is he gentle. You aren't sure if he's too far gone to think about your gag reflex or if he doesn't care, but it would be a lie to say that it doesn't turn you on. The way he uses you, the way he loses himself in thoughts of nothing but the pleasure your mouth can bring him. It isn't long before he's unraveling, groans turn into the most beautiful moans you've ever heard. Husky, deep, feral. And then you finally taste it, thick sticky white ropes of his salty, tangy cum. He stills for a moment, groaning as he softens inside of you before pulling out slowly, watching intently as he smears cum across your lips. "Be a good girl and swallow for me."

You blink up at him, pausing for a moment before pursing your lips and swallowing everything back as his thumb swipes the remnants from your lips before forcing it inside. This time you really can hear the hitch in his breath as your tongue swirls around the pad of his thumb before swallowing back again and opening your mouth up as if to show that all is clean. There's a dark chuckle from him, but the look in his eyes doesn't reflect that sentiment. He's looking at you fondly, warmly. As if you didn't just perform one of the lewdest acts of your life for him simply because it made you melt when he called you a good girl. "Well would you look at that, you really cleaned up, didn't you?" His words give you a thought, and you reach out impulsively to follow through with it. Your lips latch onto his now softening cock, licking gently, slowly so as to not overstimulate what's now very sensitive skin as you clean off every last drop. You can feel Yoongi squirm, his hands are quick to grab your hair again and pull you up to your feet with a force that has you moaning. He's certainly stronger than he looks. "Jesus Christ, you're going to be the fucking death of me."

Before you can even think of responding his lips are on yours. Distantly, somewhere in your sex addled thoughts, you can feel some sick sense of euphoria at the thought of him tasting his own release on your tongue. He's so different from any other man you've ever had. When had sex stopped being fun and became a chore to keep your partner satisfied? You can't remember the last time you felt this much pleasure, this much satisfaction. And you haven't even been touched yet. Shit. You're in for a wild ride with Min Yoongi. "You know, for normally being a mouthy little thing you haven't said very much." You blink up at him, confused at the loss of contact with his mouth, instinctually seeking the warmth of his skin as you curl up closer to him for a moment. Truth be told you've never been very vocal. You aren't sure what to say, where to start. But you don't want to say that and get laughed at by him, or worse yet, called a prude. But then he shoots you that look, the one that feels like he can see straight to your soul and suddenly you're talking.

"I've never been very vocal. It's embarrassing." You look away as you speak, your cheeks heating up at your admission. You wait for the laughter, for the teasing, but instead, all you feel is his hand cupping your chin and forcing you to look at him.

"What's so embarrassing about having your partner know what you want? What you like? I want to please you, I want to watch you fall apart. I mean for christ's sake you just licked my cum off my dick without a second thought. As if it was the most natural thing in the world for you. It was the hottest goddamn thing I've ever seen. I want to make sure that you feel just as much pleasure. So tell me, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to eat you out? Finger you? Fuck you? How do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to ride me, do you want me to take you from behind, do you want me to take your ass, or fuck you raw? What exactly do you want?" His free hand ghosts over your body as he holds your face firmly in place. You can't look away, even if you wanted to. It's like he's put you under a spell. Fuck. God, you want him. More than you want anything else. If you were locked in a room with this man for an entire day you'd use every single second to explore his body, to have him explore yours.

"I want you to eat me out." You're rewarded with a Cheshire cat grin, he looks like a villain who's just been handed the world. And suddenly your thoughts are running back to what he said on the phone. *'I'm not a good guy.'* God, why does that have you so hot and bothered all of sudden? It's like he was put on this earth just to wreck you.

"Good girl, was that so hard?" Before you can respond he's pushing you onto the bed and prying your underwear off. "Jesus Christ, I don't think I've ever seen panties that wrecked before. Seems little Ms. Corporate enjoys being on her knees. Not that I'm complaining, I consider it an honor to see you enjoy something so filthy with me." You pull yourself up a bit on your arms to see him better, and you tighten at the sight of him prying your legs apart. He's looking at you like you're a delicacy, the finest meal that's ever been presented and he's a starving man. "Do you like that, do you like when I talk to you like this?"

God, more than you ever thought you would. "Yeah." He chuckles, blinking up at you and shaking his head before hooking your legs over his shoulders and dragging you to the edge of the bed.

"Another lukewarm response. Maybe I should just stop." He's teasing you, at least you're hoping he is. Because he's so close now, you can feel the warmth of his breath on your clit. But he isn't moving, he's just staying there. His eyes locked on yours as if waiting for more. Christ. He's waiting for you to respond. And you can tell by the amused look on his face that he could wait all night if need be.

"I..." You pause, take a deep breath and close your eyes. It's too hard to say it while he's looking at you like that. "It turns me on when you tell me things like that."

"Things like what?" Son of a motherfucker, he's really not going to let you off the hook. He's enjoying this way too much. Fucking sadistic little shit. But the annoyance has you riled up enough to be defiant, to say it.

"I like it when you call me a good girl. I like it when you call me filthy. I like it when you praise me. I like it when you tell me what you want to do to me. It makes me feel wanted." You almost want to cry, it makes you feel so vulnerable to admit this to him. It's strange, how just moments ago you were so confident and now you suddenly feel so unsure. But when you finally open your eyes back up the look he's giving you makes everything feel alright. Like it's safe. It's safe to be honest with him. To be vulnerable. As if he'll protect you, hold you. You don't know if he actually will, but when he looks at you so tenderly, so lovingly, it's impossible to think that he won't. But it's the smile he gives you, all gums and pearly whites, that make it worth it. Christ, you're flying a million miles an hour on this emotional rollercoaster.

"What a good girl. You are wanted, so wanted it's terrifying." Before you can even think about the meaning behind his words, the subtext in the empty spaces, his mouth is latched onto your clit. The sensation brings a jolt of electricity up your spine, your legs latching around his face as a long garbled moan drags out of your mouth. Shit, when's the last time you were touched like this?

"Holy fuck." You can feel him smile, and the low chuckle he gives you reverberates through your body. You aren't sure what to focus on, the tantalizing image of his face buried in your wet heat or the sensation of his tongue as it moves in hungry circles around your clit. Just as you grow used to the dizzying, tingling feeling of his mouth you feel one finger slowly ease its way inside of you. It's odd, how frenzied his mouth is, but how gentle his fingers are. It's easy to sink into this feeling, to relax under his touch. God, he's good. Just as he works in a second finger you can feel yourself unraveling. "Oh my god, don't stop. Please, please don't stop." You've never cum this fast before, but the release is imminent. So close. Maybe it's because you've been so aroused for so long that even the slightest of touches turn you into a mess. You're just over the horizon, legs trembling around him and toes curling as needy whines leave your lips. His tongue moves faster, fingers scissoring into you until all you can see is blinding white. It's almost an out of body experience, everything feels too intense to process. Your body writhing under Yoongi, trying to fight his hold around your legs as your hips lift up and your moans tumble out one after another. It's blinding. Brilliant. It makes you feel whole again. As if all is right with the world when you're here underneath him. But maybe that's just your delirious post-orgasm brain talking.

Somewhere, it almost feels like it's on another planet, you can hear Yoongi cooing, smiling as he looks down at you with your essence still smeared across his face and fingers still lodged deep inside your pussy. "What a good girl. Do you want to taste yourself?"

You blink back up, still slightly out of sorts as you nod slowly before finally managing to say, "Yes, please." If you were more coherent you would have probably lost consciousness at the look Yoongi gives, drenched in desire. His nefarious intentions are written on his face. The epitome of deviancy. Sin incarnate. It feels so empty when his fingers pull out with a pop, and both of you watch with rapt attention as he pulls his fingers apart and watches the strings of your release break. God, you always thought he had beautiful fingers but it should be illegal for them to look that good while covered in your essence. You lean up on your forearms, opening your mouth and watching as his fingers slowly enter your mouth. You'd do this a thousand times if it meant getting to see that look on Yoongi's face, the way he watches you with complete and utter satisfaction. As if the only thing in the world he wants to see is you at your lewdest. The guttural groan that leaves his mouth sends waves of pleasure through you as his fingers leave your mouth with a pop.

"Jesus, you really are going to be the death of me. Or that pretty little mouth of yours will be."

"At least you'll die happy." You shrug, laughing at the glare he shoots you before giving you a gummy smile. It's odd how comfortable it is to be around him. As if everything is right with the world and the two of you aren't in the middle of outright debauchery that involves you consuming a hell of a lot of cum. It shouldn't be legal for him to give you such a warm and fuzzy smile.

"Nah, I won't die happy until I've fucked you." He really is the king at giving you emotional whiplash. At this admission you look down to see that he's hard again, leaking precum once more. You've never thought a dick was pretty before, but his is. A dusty shade of pink, thick, twitching in the air with need. You can feel your own core pulse with need as you look at him. Fuck, you want him. More than you've ever wanted anything. Who knew you'd still be this greedy, this needy, after already achieving what was arguably the best orgasm of your life.

"Then fuck me." The words come out of your mouth in a low timbre, each syllable dripping with want. Yoongi doesn't verbally respond for once, instead, he just repositions you, gently leaning your head against the pillow as he shuffles your thighs over his hips. You can feel the velvety soft tip of his cock tap against your clit, and the soft sensation has you sighing underneath him.

"Are you sure that's what you really want babe?"

"I want you to fuck me, Min Yoongi. Please, fuck me." For a moment he pauses, his Adam's apple bobbing. You swear that for a half-second he almost looks like he's contemplating everything as if he's questioning the validity of the situation before he's spitting into his palm and wetting his dick.

"I won't be gentle. That's not in my vocabulary."

"I don't want you to be gentle. I want you to fuck me, make me see stars." You reach out to touch his cheek, your hand wandering down his chest for a moment before gripping his dick in your own hand and guiding it to your greedy entrance. He watches for a second before taking over, snapping his hips into yours and sliding in all the way in one go. The burn is tantalizing, the stretch leaves you feeling utterly full and before you can even think of relaxing fully into it he's snapping his hips again.

"Well Ms. Corporate, you can't say I didn't warn you. I want to see you beg, cry, scream my name. I want to see you fall apart on my cock, over and over again tonight." He emphasizes by picking up pace, his hips smacking against your skin with loud thwacks. It's disorienting, tantalizing, the way he fucks into you. Each time he's fully inside you you can almost touch the stars. You swear his dick is made of magic, the way it takes you out of your own overgrown thoughts and into the present. All you can think of is him, of the pleasure he brings you. It's like your nerves are on fire, it's almost pathetic how quickly you melt underneath him. Teeth clacking, his name spilling out in a broken mantra of whines and moans. Thank god he said he wanted strings attached because all you can think of is that once won't be enough with him. Shit, you're pretty sure you could fuck him every day and you'd still want more. So greedy, so needy. Just for him. Only for him. The devil has you in his crosshairs, but you don't want to leave. "Look at you, already falling apart." Such crass praise. You can feel yourself pulse around him at his words, and the moan that leaves him has your back arching. You wish you could turn his moans into a song, you'd play it on repeat. Such a beautifully filthy sound.

You can feel another release looming over you when he picks your hips up and fucks into you harder. Christ, how does he have the stamina for this? Not that you're complaining. "Yoongi I'm going to, fuuuuck, right there, keep going, right, fuck!" Somehow he seems to understand your garbled incoherent rambling, because he grins down as he fucks into you harder, pulling you into a heated kiss that you try hard to reciprocate in between broken moans. It's electric. It burns you up from the inside out. It raises goosebumps across your flesh and has your eyes rolling the back of your head as you writhe around him. If Yoongi wanted to ruin you then he's already won. You're positive that sex will never feel this good with anyone else. He slows down for just a moment, fucking into you shallowly as you try to get your breathing back to normal. It's hard to do anything though, you feel like you're floating on a cloud. As if your consciousness is only barely connected to your physical body.

"You still with me, babe?" You can't even look up at him, it takes a painful amount of effort to just nod. You can hear his own groans and grunts better with your eyes closed. What a sinful symphony, skin against skin, mewls of pleasure from two lovers, or at the very least strings attached deal makers, lost in the throes of passion. He twists you underneath him until you're on all fours, shakey legs barely keeping you up and arms failing as your face plants into the pillow and your ass hangs in the air. He gives one test swat to your ass, and your scream of satisfaction and clenching pussy must be the answer to his unsaid question because his hand comes down harder this time. Surely leaving a pink park in its wake, and before you can process a third loud smack rings through the air. Jesus christ mother mary, you could drown a man right now with how wet he has you. Before you can even say anything he's fucking into you again, taking you from behind as his hands twist into your hair and pull you up until your back is flush to his chest. The sting in your scalp has you clenching around him, you're a mewling drooling mess at this point. And you're too far gone to care, euphoria is the only thought on your mind.

"You've been such a good girl for me. Do you think you can cum again, do you want to cum all over my cock for me?" A stuttered yes hangs in the air for just a moment before his mouth latches onto your neck and his hand leaves your hair to tug at one taught nipple while the other dives lower until it's rubbing circles around your clit. Yoongi isn't the only one who would die happy after this, but you can't seem to get the words out. Shit, you can't seem to get any words out. It's taking everything in you to just breathe at this point. Every sensation is too much for you to handle, you're far too sensitive after your last orgasm but you're greedy. You want more. You want to please, you want nothing more than to be good for him. Especially if that means that you'll find only the greatest of pleasures in the process. This third and final orgasm has you spasming, bucking against his chest as broken cries wail out in unison with his own sweet groans of pleasure. God, you wish you weren't in this position, you wish you could keep your eyes open. You wanted to see his face when he came, but then again, there'll be a next time. Won't there? All yours after all. Greedy. You never thought you'd be this greedy.

You can still feel him bucking into you shallowly before finally moving you back onto a pillow and pulling out carefully. You can feel exhaustion seeping deep into your bones. It takes more effort than you want to admit just to roll over and look up at Yoongi, but it's worth the exertion to see his face. His pale skin is flushed to a pretty petal pink and shining with a thin sheen of perspiration, damp hair sticking to his forehead and his eyes are glazed over in a state of numb content. Handsome doesn't really fit him, he's more pretty you would say. Beautiful really. But you won't say that. You figure most dudes wouldn't take too kindly to being called something so feminine. So instead you just watch him quietly, drink in the sight of him as he ruffles his hair and shuffles over to your bathroom to clean up. He has a surprisingly nice ass. Christ, you really do like everything about him.

"Do you have any baby wipes?" His voice sounds hoarse, and a part of you wants to get up and grab a cup of water for him but you're too tired to move.

"Yeah, in the cupboard closest to the toilet I think I should have some." You hear him rummaging around before he comes out with one wipe and silently cleans you up. It feels oddly domestic, and somehow that makes you feel more awkward than when you were having sex. Christ, you've never been good at these kinds of things. But when you look at Yoongi, the way he just hums to himself as he wipes away any last remnants that have trickled onto your thighs, it's hard to not have your heart melt. He's like the human form of catnip for you, everything feels upside down and yet strangely addictive with him around. "Thanks. Are you going to spend the night?"

He pauses for a moment, his movements halting and his eyes not meeting your own. That's okay, you're used to this. You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. "If you're okay with that, that would be nice. But I tend to sleep late, I don't want to bother you if you have to get up early."

Well, that certainly wasn't what you were expecting. You can't help but blink up at him, words failing before manic uncontrollable giggles come tumbling out of you. You finally manage to stop long enough to wipe some stray tears out of the corner of your eyes before finally responding. "Nah, I set my own hours, we're good."

You watched him take you in curiously, a small flicker of a smile ghosting his lips before he turned around to rummage through his jeans and grab a lighter and cigarette, about to light up before he turns around and raises an eyebrow, a silent question.

"Go ahead, but I don't have any ashtrays so you can use a cup or something." You point to the empty water cup by your bed before slipping under the covers, watching him take a deep drag and shut his eyes. The silence would probably feel unbearable with anyone else, but for some reason, it's soothing with him. You have absolutely no clue what you've gotten yourself into with him. Strings firmly attached to whatever the fuck this is, as per his rules. And yours too. You did agree. You want to break this all down, pick it apart and analyze this entire rendezvous piece by piece to make sense of it. You've never been this type of girl before. Impulsive, brash, hedonistic, quick. That's the only way you can describe this. No you were always slow to act, but quick to think until Min Yoongi snarked his way into your heart. And yet it feels so right. Shit. What does that mean? You wish you could think about this more, but the moment you feel his long fingers brushing your hair soothingly you're lulled into sleep.

That night you dream of his lips on yours, sweaty skin sticking to sheets and the orchestral sound of his groans mixing with slick skin hitting skin. Christ, you're so screwed. Having sex with him isn't enough, not even in your dreams. You aren't sure why he's so all-consuming, but one thing is for certain: he isn't the only one with nefarious intentions.

#yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #suga smut #suga fanfic #suga fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts reader insert

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baileesbff-2024 · 5 years ago

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Hey it’s been over 6 months since the last time I’ve updated tumblr sorry about that. I’ve been really busy. Here’s the rundown on everything that’s been going on lately.

I’m still at Panera. I’ve been there for 2 years and almost 2 months august 4th now. I’ve come a long way since beginning to work there. I know a lot of positions. I know cash, bakery opener which includes setting up the bakery and slicing breads (which I don’t do anymore) it was only temporarily until they found another opener, dining room, carhop (curbside), barista, dish, some prep and some line (salads, sandwiches, soups etc.) I love working there for the most part. Sometimes my anxiety gets bad along with my stress but I ask to go in the back and calm down. I get along with almost everyone there and have hung out with a few co workers there. They’re my friends and family. I love the management. There’s not a bad thing to say about working there. I want to be a trainer someday there and learn more prep and line. I have a crush on one of my co workers. Hey I can’t help it. Overall it’s the best job I’ve ever had so far. Potbelly the job I worked at before there closed the one I worked at. Oh well there’s still plenty I can get to by bus. I still have the same phone the purple 128 GB IPHONE 11. I love it a lot so far I have 18 cases for it and I have 4 more cases coming in the mail. All Ariana Grande themed. One I customized on Casetify. I also got a acer laptop that my co worker helped me get, my iPod touch I’ve already had, my new Apple Watch and my new iPad Air with Apple Pencil. I gave my iPad that was almost 2 years old to Bailee. And I got heather a Fitbit. I still have sassy and babe. They’re great cats and I love them. Sassy is 2 and babe is 17 years old. Oh I almost forgot I just got a new canon digital camera I threw the old one from my ex away. I also got a new cordless vacuum and microwave. I went grocery shopping today and got a lot of things I needed and healthy food as well with Dr Pepper. I got cleaning stuff and toilet paper and toiletries. Also shampoo. I’m getting 2 pairs of new glasses in 2 weeks one is pink and one is purple. I got a eyeglass cleaning kit and then some essential oil stuff. My birthday was great. I turned 33 last Saturday 2 days ago. Bailee came over for the whole weekend. Friday we ate dinner, colored, took snap chat pictures, watched lady and the tramp live action, ate a snack, she took a shower, we relaxed and went to bed despite the storm. Saturday morning I opened my present from her, her mom and roommates. I got 2 cards, a ice pack from them, chocolate from Bailee and a self care kit with a bracelet from her mom. We got up and got dressed. We went to Panera for breakfast and had chocolate chip bagels with strawberry cream cheese. I got a gift of a rose decoration from my co worker. Then we went into the mall and first went to Spencer’s and she got 2 hats and a pin, we went to a photo booth and too pictures, we went to caribou and Sephora and got my free gifts there then we went to Claire’s and she got me stuff and I of course had to get a phone case and pop socket. She got me a eye sleep mask, half of a sharing best friends necklace and a cable buddy. Then we went home. We watched some sailor moon and then ordered dominos pizza for dinner with wings. We ate that with milk and garlic dipping sauce. Then more sailor moon. Then we played on our iPads after getting our pjs on. We went into my bedroom and turned on my fan and went to bed after 1. Then yesterday morning I got up at 7:45 and did my laundry and other cleaning while Bailee slept in. Then we did more cleaning and Bailee Marie condo’d my apartment especially my clothes. I am donating 2 bags of stuff to goodwill. All of my clothes are in my dresser and the only things hanging in my closet are my hoodies, work clothes and dresses. The drawers are for memories and pictures and relaxation stuff and one drawer has my laptop in it and my cds are organized and also my slippers. We did a good job. My mom came over and dropped of a gift for my birthday I got some cards and waiting for more in the mail. Then me and Bailee had Mac and cheese while watching more sailor moon and also made jello. Then she went home.

And then I relaxed and I watched YouTube. Nothing else is new really. Saving money really well. Spoiled myself a lot and still have money saved. Paying bills and getting stuff done. I’ve paid my medical bill and 2 out of 3 credit bills off going to pay the third off when I get it in the mail. Keeping to myself. I have a few friends in the building that I trust. And I have way more outside of here and all my co workers are my friends too. I hope to have a bf soon too. I’ll update soon or in 6 more months lol

Lisa

Here’s a Ariana Grande GIF JUST BECAUSE I LOVE HER AND SHES THE BEST❤️❤️❤️ also my favorite pictures of me and Bailee 😊

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technicolortheshow · 5 years ago

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BOHREN & DER CLUB OF GORE

My Bloody Quarantine part 1

The last six months have been pretty shit, hey? It looks like there is no future anymore... global warming, COVID-19, Australia on fire, wars... shall I go on?

ANYWAY, we are not here to talk about a stupid government led by a buffoon with a mop in his head (ops!) but to praise one of the bands who kept me company during this bloody quarantine of mine: BOHREN & DER CLUB OF GORE. This German act, in fact, hung out with me during the several nights of insomnia, which, trust me, were devastating, loooooong and cold. Cigarettes after cigarettes, wine after wine, I thoroughly enjoyed the discography of the quartet and I thought it was time to write something about them.

Because of the slow-moving and nocturnal nature of their music, a doom jazz plenty of end-of-the-world ballads, or, in their words "unholy ambient mixture of slow jazz ballads, Black Sabbath doom and down-tuned Autopsy sounds", I happily matched their records to these apocalyptic months. Just like a dark noir by Leo Malet, or a Terry Gilliam dystopian movie, Bohren & Der Club of Gore managed to convey, over the last 25 years, a deep sense of ethical abandonment and claustrophobic imprisonment. There is no future in the music of the German band, no escape from reality, which is doomed and looped into an endless limbo. A not long time ago - which now seems AGES ago, to be honest - I went to the White Cube for the latest Kiefer’s exhibition. I believe that the combination of BCG music and Kiefer’s artworks pretty well.

Over the last months, while listening to them, between a Medoc and a Nebbiolo, I was picturing the band in a smoky “bar at the end of the world”, channelling some kind of��Tom Hillenbrant’s dystopian political setting or a Lynde Mallison’s grey cold painting. The best description, though, comes from the band website: “Dear friends of nighttime drives, remote bridges to nowhere and empty multi-storey car parks”. Club Silencio state of mind, indeed.

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The ensemble has constantly been releasing high-quality records since 1994, with the first doom jazz album called MOTEL GORE - albeit the first release was a 1992 cassette filled with post-hardcore noise published under the name of Langspielkassette. MOTEL GORE is, as someone brilliantly described it “audio pointillism”. I think this similitude is accurate: the band did draw tiny dots of obscure, eerie, music on canvases of sound. “Die Fulci Nummer” drives me mad, with its spectral adagio: it’s so good it would’ve been great in the Fulci’s masterpiece Non si Sevizia un Paperino. “Cairo Keller” is charming and evocative, reminding me of a possible soundtrack for Lovecraft The Nameless City. Extra points for the brilliant reference of the cover.

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in 1997 BCG published MIDNIGHT RADIO, two hours of lynchian-LA-night-driving-without-a-destination soundtrack. if it is true that its predecessor "Gore Motel" is more song-oriented, and therefore a lot easier to listen to - it’s evident that Midnight Radio is more rewarding in its own special way: it’s a journey in the darkest corner of your mind. Yes, because the journeys BCG offers are not only external but often internal. The band has developed over the years a therapeutic dialogue between the listeners and their consciousness. Jungian jazz music anyone? LET’S DEBATE!

By the way, while writing this article, I’ve realised how difficult is to talk about BCG music without quoting several cliches - everyone always ends up referring to the same stuff:” car parks”, “night drive”, “Lynch”. But I have to admit, in this case, it’s definitely true! Listening to BCG can really inspire these topics under our skins, as trivial as it sounds! The point is: they do it better than anyone else, they have been doing this forever and they represent the top in this particular sub-genre. With the results of a cinematographic component in their music that leads to these night drive scenarios, post-modern inner state of minds. Bravo!

Let’s go back to Midnight Radio, to BGC and their discography. It’s undeniable that their music fits perfectly in the set of the SLOW TV/MUSIC/YOUTUBE movement. From The Norway train to this 1986 Canadian TV show called “NIGHT WALK” (which, by the way, looks freaking awesome), from Andy Warhol’ “SLEEP” to Kiarostami or Tarkovsky cinema, the slow movement has left an imprint to contemporary culture. Arguably, BGC, with their long holistic records, is part of the movement. Calming the listeners and bringing them into a meditative state of mind, without being mindfulness - luckily. The point is: BCG makes you think about yourselves, finding out that you are someone you should be scared of! Know yourself, fear yourself!

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All that Jazz came in 2000 with the thrilling “SUNSET MISSION”, thanks to the help of saxophonist Christoph Clöser. In this record the band opened up the sound, literally letting some fresh air to enter their music, easing the claustrophobic moods of the previous albums. A hint of lounge-ness came in, due to the mellow, yet sophisticated, sax of Mr Clöser. It is still quintessential BCG, with the nihilism of the band raising up form the bass. Slow, reiterated bass lines are running through the record, giving to Sunset Mission a gloomy, hypnotic cadence. The liner notes include a quote from Matt Wagner's Grendel comic book, which reads: "Alone in the comforting darkness the creature waits. As confusion reigns on this hellish stage, the deafening grind of machinery, the odious clot of chemical waste. Still, the trail of his ultimate prey leads through this steely maze to these, the addled offspring of the modern world.

According to many people, 2002 ‘BLACK EARTH” is BCG masterpiece. I don’t know yet, as I REALLY like them all. What I can say is that Black Earth sounds a lot more accessible, with an even more developed sense of ‘lounge-ness’ which was not so evident in the previous records. Blach Earth is a good record. Perhaps the trick here is the balanced tempo of the saxophone. Perfectly played within the songs at the right time, Christoph Clöser’ sax conveys an open jazzy sound. One of my favourite directors ever is Jean-Pierre Melville, his movies are everything I like in term of style and plot. Noir a là Dashiell Hammett, but French and without hope - give me more of this, Hollywood, please! Enough of fucking Marvel heroes, give me noir hard-boiled movies!

Black Earth could have easily been the perfect great soundtrack for Mr Melville’s movies - especially, IHMO, Bob le flambeur. Think about it: a french man, with a cigarette in his mouth, gambling his life for a young woman, in a dirty Marseille, with the BCG slow tempo doomed jazz. yasss please, give me more. Or a glacial Alain Delon killing his lover for money.

Black Earth was followed up, in 2005, by “GEISTERFAUST”, which is considered a slower than ever version of the former album. In Ghost Fist (this is the translation) Bohren & Der Club of Gore has stripped down its sound to the bone, becoming more gentle and less aggressive without any compromise. 5 songs only, named after the 5 fingers of the hand, for an hour of dark jazz. Again, excellent quality.

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I have been buying BCG on CD, I think this music on vinyl does not sound perfect UNLESS you have an extremely high-quality sound system, Like some classical music issue, where you need to hear the pianissimo of the piano and single notes, BCG music deserves a very clean medium, I would say CD is the best.

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Jazz de nuit again on their seventh album “DOLORES” published in 2008. This record is pure Badalamenti, pure Lynch in the night. Within the ten songs of Dolores, the core idea of slow-music is even more highlighted, with no guitars at all on the whole album and a sedated keyboard-based mood. In 2009 the band released a 10 minute EP called “MITLEID LADY”. it is strange, because, albeit recorded just after Dolores, it sounds way more gloomy and somehow different. It is BCG but has another level of sophistication compared to the previous record. This step further in the direction of stylistic accuracy is confirmed two years after, in 2011, with another EP, this one named “BEILEID”. The cover of the record is a reference to the famous Edward Gorey, or at least I believe.

The record includes the cover of "Catch My Heart" by German heavy metal band Warlock, with vocals from Mike Patton. I believe this is the only song with a singer in the entire catalogue of the band. Beileid is a cinematic mood-changer composed of pained saxophone solos, and ghostly string sections, an album that will sweep your mind away into dreamland. A must-have IHMO.

In 2013 the ensemble released “PIANO NIGHTS” probably the warmest record of the band. The Piano obviously helps a lot in making the sound softer and brighter - candle lighted rigorously. A German Gothic feast, with a touch of Teutonic expressionism - who remembers the movie The Hands Of Orlac. BCG should definitely play the soundtracks of this movie. A twisted, dark, thriller with Gothic and expressionist elements. After many years, the band introduces the

Finally, in 2020, the band published “PATCHOULI BLUE”. A pristine, unique, summa of their work, which manages to sound similar to other releases of the band, yet unique, with something different, like a small accent. 50s noir glam, Badalamenti, German Gothic, Slow-Movement philosophy are all elements we can find in this record, but there is something else: a hint of electronic, which can possibly open new territories to the band. I am curious to see if they will become a techno ambient act in the like of Gas (joking).

Aristotle once said that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. I guess this is the whole point in BCG’s music. The synergy the band has been consistently showing over the last 3 decades, and the constant refinement of their own skills.

VIVA BOHREN!

#bohren #bohren & der club of gore #gothic #german #noir #leomalet #melville #alain delone #jazz #ambient #doom jazz #angelo badalamenti #lynch #mulholland drive #gas #grendel #nightmoves #anselm kiefer #expressionism

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falloutfiona · 6 years ago

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new man- bucky barnes

new man

Summary: female reader’s ex-girlfriend has a new boyfriend, and you think he’s not the right kind of guy for her. The Avengers tend to hear this conversation and they understand your strife, so it didn’t come as a surprise to you when Bucky Barnes offered to be your fake boyfriend to show your ex how much you upgraded. Turns out, it was all a plan to get you two together- for real.

Pairing: bisexual female reader x bucky barnes

Song: New Man by Ed Sheeran

Warnings: angst, this is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written so PLEASE know it is NSFW and you should be 18+ to read this!!!!, jealousy, cheating, choking, alcohol

It was game night at the Tower, a night you and all the Avengers had looked forward to twice a month. You all loved destroying your friendship while getting super smashed, and you valued that bonding time after your longest relationship ended a few months ago. The Avengers had been nothing but supportive, and though game night was pretty brutal, everyone sprinted down to the common room the second the clock struck 10 pm. You would often stay up all night playing Monopoly or another long-winded game of Cards Against Humanity, and it was a much-needed break from the drama and the lingering pain you still felt. It gave you an opportunity for your stomach to hurt from laughing instead of crying. That was, until, your phone suddenly rang. It was your ex-girlfriend.

You stood up, backing away from the coffee table, not sure if you should answer the phone.

“Oh my God, is that Allie?” Steve asked you. You nodded, groaning and tossing the phone back and forth in your hands before you finally swiped to accept her call.

“Allie, why are you calling?” You asked in a passive-aggressive sing-song voice, spinning around in circles. “Oh, right. It’s Friday, so it must be Ladies’ Night at the strip club your new boyfriend goes to, so you’re alone in the apartment regretting everything you messed up with me?” You began, attacking the conversation with words like knives.

“Allie, your new man is a douchebag. He literally buys designer jeans and goes to the gym at least six times a week, if not more than once a day. He wears Sperrys without any socks and he bleaches his asshole, and you can’t even eat anything anymore because he’s on that stupid diet and you’re doing it with him. He literally has a tribal tattoo on his bicep. You’ve got to be kidding, right?” You spoke, irritation in your voice.

All the Avengers were listening, so you got up from the couch and rolled your eyes at the group in reaction to Allie before walking further away. They all stopped their game of Monopoly and were eavesdropping on you, and you knew it. Your ex-girlfriend situation had been painful, but hilarity ensued when you found out who she had downgraded to.

“Well, Allie, if you’re really into this guy, you wouldn’t be calling me up trying to fuck!” You exclaimed with a laugh, finding her unbelievable. “I KNOW he doesn’t want to find out about me, so you shouldn’t call.”

Upon this statement, Tony Stark quietly handed you a shot that you downed while listening to Allie’s response. They had dragged you back to the Monopoly table, egging you on to put Allie on speaker, but you knew that was a bad idea considering how you were going to respond.

“Allie, it’s a damn lie that the dude that owns every single Ministry CD and carries a purse he unironically calls a satchel can do it better than I can! I know you’re missing this kind of loving, but that doesn’t mean that you can call me and make it all better. You cheated on me for him, so there’s nothing I owe you, and nothing you’re entitled to. Actually, you owe me a lot. So, if this guy makes you happy, then cool, but don’t fucking call me telling me about your new man, then ask me to come over! I’m hanging up cause I literally have to vomit. Thank you, next, babe.” You responded, hanging up your phone and tossing it to the side.

“Holy shit!” Bucky exclaimed, every other Avenger knowing they could finally react. They were well aware of what had happened, and were completely involved in all the drama.

“You came for that man’s life!” Steve exclaimed, unaware you had that kind of mouth on you.

“Yes, because he’s literally a human disaster!” You defended yourself. “And she can’t just cheat on me for this dude, then cheat on this dude for me.”

“Does he really wear Sperrys without any socks?” Natasha asked. “Is everything you said true?”

“Unfortunately.” You sighed, finishing off your drink and making your move on the Monopoly board.

“I don’t know if it’ll stop her, but you should show up to a place where they’ll be with some sexy beefcake and show her how good your rebound is compared to hers. Plus, it might make her leave you alone if she knows there’s not a chance of redemption.” Wanda suggested, taking a swig of her vodka cranberry.

“There are plenty of sexy beefy dudes here. Or, I’m sure you’ll make the same point if you go out with one of these ladies. I mean, you’ve got your pick of fake rebounds.” Clint pointed out. At first, you thought they were joking, but they were entirely serious and after a few moments of thought, you knew it could possibly work.

“You’re right. Does anyone want to volunteer?” You asked the group.

“Oh, we all want to do it. But some aren’t reasonable or believable, so we have to narrow it down.” Natasha spoke. “For example, Thor is just a little bit too inconspicuous for the fake rebound thing to pass. He’s way too sexy for that, and everyone knows he’s a god. So, sorry Thor, you might not be the best candidate.”

You leaned back, listening to Natasha, because she obviously had some insight you didn’t.

“Steve? Now Steve is a good candidate. He is so nice, people get tattoos of his face they love him so much, he’s got his shit together, could kick your ex’s ass. Steve is definitely in the running. Clint’s got a wife and kids, so he’s out. Bruce is in love with me, so the chemistry won’t be believable if he were to be your fake rebound. Tony is the least inconspicuous of them all. Everyone would know it was fake. So that leaves you with me, Wanda, Steve and Bucky. What do you think?” Natasha explained, then turned it over to you.

“Well, Wanda looks too much like Allie, so Allie would think I was just trying to find another version of her.”

“I didn’t think about that. Good point. I personally think Bucky should be your fake boyfriend. You guys have legitimate chemistry, and he’s got all the qualities you need for this plan.”

With that statement, Bucky nearly choked on his drink. He had stayed very silent for the whole conversation, and for a reason. He wanted to hide his crush as best as he could, but he knew that everyone knew an would put him into the place of your fake boyfriend.

“You okay there, Buck?” Steve asked with a smile.

“I’m good, I’m fine. Sure, I’ll be the fake boyfriend.” He agreed, and everyone toasted to that.

“Hey, does Allie still follow you on Instagram and Twitter and shit?” Tony asked, after everyone had a couple more rounds. They were all pretty smashed, and for enhanced humans, that said a lot because they had all had enough to kill a normal human being.

“Yes, she does, and I only follow her so I can creep on her Instagram a little bit.”

“I have an idea. In order for this whole thing to be believable, we need to start now. Give me your phone,” Tony asked, and you unlocked it, giving him the device.

“Great!” He exclaimed before putting his hand on your shoulder, turning you around and sitting you down on the couch next to Bucky.

“Tony, what are we doing?” You laughed nervously.

“Acting normally for a candid romantic picture on game night.” Tony stated as if it was obvious, but you and Bucky hadn’t quite mastered being candid or romantic. Tony rolled his eyes, put Bucky’s arm around your shoulders, turned you towards each other and lifted one of your knees over the other to cross your legs so yours would be against Bucky’s. Tony kept taking pictures until he found the right one where Bucky was smiling down at you and your hands almost covered your mouth in a laugh. Tony posted the picture with the caption “he owns my heart and my properties #gamenight”

All the Avengers had immediately liked it, leaving cute comments that would make it even more believable. The problem was, Bucky wasn’t sure how good he could be at being fake.

You all continued your game through the night until Tony won, per usual, but you had continued the drinking and were all absolutely blacked out. You woke up on the couch next to Bucky, not sure where all your clothes went, until you remembered that when the game began getting heated, it quickly became drunk strip monopoly. Game night had never been this intense before. You knew that Tony already had a picture of you two sleeping on the couch together, barely clothed, but what’s done is done. You had fully committed to this fake relationship.

You swung your legs over the side of the couch and stood up, trying to find your clothes and every memory of last night, but Bucky woke up at the same time you stood up and your scantily clad butt and lace thong was right in front of his face. His eyes shot open wide, not sure what to do. You turned to him after you heard him groan, meeting his staring eyes.

“Do you know where my clothes are?” You asked, your voice raspy and hungover. Bucky couldn’t even form words at the sight of you. You sorted through the clothes that were strewn all over the floor, having to figure out which clothes belonged to eight other people, but there came a point where you didn’t care whose clothes you donned, as long as you got a shirt on. You put on Bucky’s black tee shirt and moments later you found your loose running shorts.

“I’m gonna go vom for the rest of the morning, so swing by my place if you wanna visit later.” You spoke to Bucky, who was still speechless, before you walked back to your room and regretted drinking for the whole night for the entire morning. Bucky did stop by later, he lightly knocked at your open door. You knew you were going to be in your bathroom all day, so you kept your door open to air out the smells as well as leave it open for Bucky.

“Come on in, Buck. I’m good, what’s up?” You asked, gagging a little more. He waited to respond until after you were done gagging. You wondered what exactly you had drank you make you feel this bad, but then you remembered that you all drank everything. Thor’s Asgardian alcohol that kills people, beer, wine, liquor, mixed drinks, shots, you guys really went off for this one. It was outside the norm, which was good, because you were miserable.

“I just wanted to stop by and check on you,” He began, not making himself comfortable in your room. He didn’t sit down or really look at you in the eye. Your stomach sank, a different feeling than the vomit you were dealing with all day, knowing he wasn’t here to tell her something good.

“Listen, we were really drunk last night, all of us, and I don’t know if you remember everything that happened, but it was a lot and I kind of wanted to talk about it when we were sober.”

You wiped your mouth and stood up to face him.

“Bucky, I get it if you don’t want to be my fake boyfriend. Or, I’ll try to understand.” You responded with sadness in your voice.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say, even though the way I said it it kind of sounded like I was going to. But I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page about it. I’m your fake boyfriend and you’re my fake girlfriend so we can get back at your ex.” He confirmed. “Do you want boundaries for our fake relationship? I know that Tony’s taking pictures and posting things and I know we’re going to go out in public, so I just want to be clear about the things you don’t want to happen.”

“Nothing comes to mind, I’m down for anything.” You answered. “How about you?”

He hesitated.

“I’m not sure if it’s the best idea for us to kiss, because I think then it crosses the line in to real.” He spoke, and your heart jumped, not sure how to feel about that. Especially after your breakup, it felt like there was something wrong with you, or undesirable. You nodded, biting your lip and hiding your emotions badly.

“I have to continue vomiting, so if you’ll excuse me,” You said, closing the bathroom door behind you, letting your empty stomach continue to hurl, and you heard your bedroom door close upon Bucky’s exit.

From that night on, Tony was in charge of your Instagram account, posting pictures he secretly took of you two throughout the weeks. It hurt a little more knowing that it was all fake and Bucky wouldn’t kiss you, and you were nearing the time that you had planned to go out in public and face Allie and her new man. The team knew this too, and they asked the question when they knew Bucky couldn’t run away.

“So, in two weeks you guys are going out to the club and I’m all out of pictures.” Tony stated, leading into the next conversation.

“Everything has been believable so far, Allie is subtweeting you and Bucky on Twitter, she’s adequately jealous, but now that I’m out of stock on pictures and each one has been kind of similar, we need something else.”

Bucky knew where Tony was going, and he didn’t like it.

“We need you guys to kiss.”

“Tony, we kind of agreed not to.” You answered in the least awkward manner you could find.

“Um, why?” He asked, utterly confused.

“Bucky thought it would be too real for a fake relationship.” You answered.

“Huh.” Tony hummed quizzically.

“I’ll do it for the picture, if that’s what you need.” Bucky answered.

“Oh, thanks for sounding so excited about it.” You answered, a little hurt at his delivery of that message. Everyone simultaneously felt a yikes pass around the room.

“If you guys could just stand by that big window with the natural light,” Tony spoke, trying to move on and cut the tension by getting it over with as soon as possible. You and Bucky stood face to face, making eye contact that you could only describe as hostile.

“Okay, this isn’t a hostage situation. You’re telling me after all these weeks of insane chemistry and disgustingly real romance, you guys don’t know how to kiss?” Tony asked.

“We get it, Tony.” Bucky stated, and he quickly put a hand on your back as he leaned down and gave you the driest, least interested, grandma kiss you have ever gotten in your entire life before you grabbed your phone from Tony and ran off, flustered.

“Bucky, can I talk to you for a second?” Steve asked, but it was more of a command. He grabbed Bucky’s arm and led him out into the hallway.

“What just happened there, Buck? What’s going on with you? What do you mean it would be too real to kiss her? You’ve liked that woman for months and haven’t said a word, and you get the chance to kiss her and don’t kiss her in the ways you’ve told me you want to?”

“Yes, Steve, because this is a fake relationship that exists solely for the purpose of revenge, and if I kiss her like I mean it then I’m afraid I won’t be able to bring myself back. Then, I’ll be humiliated for getting to into it and putting my feelings into a fake, set up arrangement. I won’t lose anything if I don’t ever give anything.”

“Bucky, you’re the stupidest person I’ve ever met. You have dumbass disease, and it’s incurable. The whole idea of a fake relationship was so we could set you guys up finally. It’s been long enough, and you’re so stupid to think she doesn’t feel the same way towards you. You broke her heart just now, Buck. It’s meant to be real, Bucky, and you just ruined it.”

You didn’t speak to Bucky until it was the day you were supposed to go out with him and meet your ex, Allie. You had spent the whole day considering if it was even worth it to go out, if all the weeks you spent “pretending” with Bucky were just trash. Was it worth it to just make Allie jealous? You thought you should cancel the outing as you questioned if it was all worth it.

Nat and Wanda invaded your room to style your hair and put you into a pair of suede Louboutin boot heels and a red miniature two piece set. You looked the best you ever had, but you felt like absolute crap.

“I’m not sure if I want to do this, guys.” You told Nat and Wanda.

“Why not, darling?” Nat asked.

“Because I knew I was really going to fall for him. I knew that I couldn’t keep it fake this whole time, and I let my emotions get the best of me. So now I’m hurt that he doesn’t feel the same way.”

They laughed out loud.

“You sound like Bucky.”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s literally what he said to Steve. You both don’t think the other is interested. He’s so crazy about you.”

“Then why did he kiss me like I was gross?” You asked.

“Because he’s an idiot, but also because he didn’t want to reveal how he really felt to you since he thought you didn’t feel the same way. So you’re gonna go to this club, show Allie who’s boss, get your ex off your back, and then finally get into bed with Bucky.” They explained.

“Oh my god, I’m not even sure if I still even want to go out tonight! Let’s take it slow.”

“You won’t be saying that after he kisses you like he really wants to.” Wanda responded, and it was time for you to head out to the common room to meet everyone, and Bucky. He was wearing a white shirt with a few buttons undone with his cuffs rolled up, tucked into black slim pants and leather shoes. His hair was tied back into a bun with two long pieces hanging down around his face. It was high-end club, and there was a dress code. He couldn’t stop staring at you, making you wish you weren’t doing this even more. You hadn’t talked about your first kiss where he really didn’t want to kiss you, and now he was basically drooling like a hyena over you. There was a lot of unspoken tension, and your outing wasn’t going to make it any better.

“You look great.” He spoke to you, finally able to form words.

“Thank you. We should get going,” You responded plainly. He knew you were still hurt, so you drove in silence to the club in one of Tony’s Ferraris. The Valet took care of the car while Bucky walked around to your side and opened the door for you, extending his hand so you could step out with ease. You took his hand for the moment before you let your hand fall, and you walked up to the door together. The bouncer let you both in, and you stood at a tall table while Bucky headed to the bar. He got you a vodka soda and a gin and tonic for himself, because he liked disgusting drinks. The music was loud but you still weren’t talking to Bucky. You were looking for Allie, and you knew she had to be around because you saw her car pull up a few ahead of yours. You became frustrated not being able to find her, but then a server approached you with a tray and sat down a rum and coke on your table.

“From the woman in VIP.” He explained. Bucky was confused, but you knew.

“Rum and coke is Allie’s favorite drink. She sees us but we can’t see her. It’s like a calling card, she’s toying with us.”

“Well, the server said she was in VIP, so let’s go find her.” Bucky suggested, feeling like that was the best option, and he started walking in that direction. You followed close to him, turning a corner and finding Allie lounging on a velvet couch in a silver dress. She waved to the VIP bouncer and he let the pair in.

“Allie.” You stated, not sure of what you were going to say.

“Baby, come sit!” She said, trying to entice you over to her.

“She’s good, thanks.” Bucky answered, snaking his arm around your waist and immediately becoming protective over you.

“Oh, so that’s real! I was sure it was fake.” Allie spoke in response, pointing between you two.

“Yes, it is, and you should back off, considering you’ve got a new man.” Bucky answered.

“I’m just shocked it’s real. I didn’t think she could get anyone after me.”

“I loved you so much and you hurt me so badly, so get off your goddamn high horse, thinking that you’re a god.” You answered, hurt in your voice.

“So like, is this thing serious with him or is he just a rebound?” Allie asked with an evil chuckle.

“It’s serious, Allie. We only just recently made it public, and you shouldn’t be looking to get her back when you’ve got somebody else. You must have wanted him so badly you cheated on her, right? Stick with that. You’ll never get my girl back.” Bucky responded. “And if you try, I’m going to come for you and your new boyfriend so hard, you’re going to regret ever getting close.” Bucky growled, leaning forward more towards Allie.

“Oh, do you promise?” Allie responded, biting her lip.

“Okay, we’re done.” Bucky stated angrily, pressing you close to him and walking away.

“She’s pretty shitty, you know?” He spoke, once they were far away from her.

“Yeah, I know.” You spoke, feeling dejected.

“But, the good news is, she’s with someone equally shitty. Her new boyfriend is making out with that blonde.” Bucky pointed out. You saw him, and the random girl.

“It’s a match made in cheater heaven.” You spoke with a hint of a laugh, knowing that you were better off without Allie, despite how much you loved her to your core before she ruined you.

You decided to get the words you wanted to say off your chest, so you blurted them out. Bucky knew it was coming.

“Bucky, why do you not want to kiss me? I know this is supposed to be fake, but I get this feeling that I’m not pretty enough for you to want to kiss me, and I feel like I’m reasonably attractive, but you just seemed revolted at the idea of having to kiss me.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you. It’s the fact that in that moment, I couldn’t kiss you like this.” He answered, not caring that you were both in public before his hand sunk deep into your hair that Wanda and Natasha spent an hour styling, and his other hand grabbed your ass and pulled you against him. He kissed you as if his life depended on it. He broke the kiss when he realized that you couldn’t breathe, and he took the moment to clear the air between you.

“I know we agreed on doing this as a ruse, but everything I feel is so damn real and I want to be with you so badly, it’s killing me.”

“Then don’t let it kill you and just be with me.” You answered. “It’s been a long time coming. Everything I’ve felt has been as real as it can get, and I know everything you’re feeling is real, because I can feel it too.” You spoke, pointing out the fact that he was holding you tightly against him and you could feel his bulge against your leg.

“Yeah, we should go home.” He smiled at you. You both headed outside and waited for the Valet to bring Tony’s car around, and since you were both sober, it was a fight for who was going to drive back. He held you against him as you stood in front of him, a hand strategically placed on your hip.

“You drove here, so I’m driving back! I think I can work the gearbox better than you can, too.” You argued, running around to the driver’s seat when the car arrived.

Pulling off quickly, letting the engine roar, Bucky waited until you were on the freeway to head home to unbuckle his seatbelt, lean over and put his hand on your thigh as he kissed your neck. You missed a gear change in your distraction, but quickly fixed your mistake that Bucky chuckled at. Trying not to get caught for speeding, you went as fast as you could without getting a ticket and it wasn’t long before you were back at the Tower. You tossed the Ferrari keys up on the wall of the garage, and Bucky couldn’t run fast enough to the elevator button. You were both getting impatient at the agonizingly slow pace of the elevator that had to operate on 50 stories, so you grabbed Bucky and pulled him over to the nearest car hood to wrap him back up in your embrace until the elevator got to you. Once you both heard the chime and the doors opened, it was a sprint to get upstairs in time before clothes started coming off in places they shouldn’t.

Bucky pushed you to the corner, his hand running up your thigh as he continued the work he started on your neck. He grabbed your butt from underneath your skirt, his fingers finding the lace of your underwear.

“If you’re wearing something under this dress that is like what you wore for game night, you’re gonna kill me.” He groaned into your skin.

“You’re in luck, Bucky. I’ve got that and more.” You responded, and you knew that all it did was get him harder. He knew you were teasing him, so he teased you right back and slipped a finger into you. You let out a small sigh of pleasure, but it was cut short when the elevator stopped at your floor. You both took a second to regain your composure before stepping out, not sure who was still around to see you. Bucky called out to the empty floor, and got no response. You picked up a slip of paper on the table and showed Bucky.

“They’re all out for the night.” You smiled, handing him the note.

“Thank fuck-” He exclaimed before setting it aside and resuming your close contact you had moments before. He wrapped his arm around your waist and threw you over his shoulder, getting to his room as quickly as possible. You laughed at his methods, but were suddenly brought back to the moment when you finally understood why you were thrown over his shoulder in the first place. He only had to adjust you slightly so you were straddling his shoulders, facing him. He pushed your skirt up to reveal your lacy lingerie and thigh garter, and he could get off easily by just seeing you in that.

Finally in his bedroom, he laid back on his bed and he kissed the insides of your thighs, the lace brushing against his face. As much as he loved the lingerie, they had to come off and he carefully removed them as he ran them down your legs and tossed them aside. Grabbing your thighs, he used his mouth in a very different way than when you had kissed.

Eventually, you both lost all of your clothes and were left in your underwear, or what was left of it. Your bralette was a sheer lace, and he was able to see through it. As sexy as it was, it was gone in the blink of an eye. You grabbed his hair and gave it a strong yank, pulling his chin up so you could kiss his lips. You were straddled against his hips, and you knew that both of you were just about dying the longer you waited to just get to it. Though he was playing rough, he dialed it back a little bit and took it a little easier when you were getting used to him. Once he knew everything was good he flipped you over on the bed, your hair cascading in all directions across the pillow, and his hands traveled up from your waist to your neck and cheek to hold your face as he kissed you. You looked him in the eye as you moved his hand just a little lower on your neck. He was taken aback just a bit.

“Okay, before I choke you I need you to know that the last time I choked someone, I was doing it to kill them.” He warned.

“Good. Don’t choke me so hard I die, but I don’t want to be sure I’m going to live, either.” You instructed. “Ease up when I start turning blue.”

Taking your instructions, he nodded and eased his way into it, not wanting to go too hard too fast. He was worried he was going to hurt you, but he could read you like an expert and was able to know what you needed before you said it. He threw your leg over his shoulder and made you see stars, and not from the lack of oxygen. There were things that only he could do, and only he could do to you that you’ve never experienced with anyone else.

It wasn’t long before you could even remember the pain of being hurt, and Allie wasn’t even a thought in your mind. It was just you and Bucky, alone in his apartment and nothing else mattered except for the way he touched you. It took a surprising amount of time to wear each other out, and the sun was rising by the time you both hit your complete endpoint.

“Not bad for a fake boyfriend, right?” Bucky laughed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Best sex I’ve ever gotten from a fake boyfriend.” You responded, taking a pause before the words you were thinking about just fell out. “But how about you be my real boyfriend?” You asked. Bucky didn’t have to think about his response, but he smiled when he heard you.

“Damn, now I have to earn the title of “best sex for a real boyfriend”? That’s a lot of pressure!” He exclaimed.

“Nope, you’ve already won that title too.” You responded. “Don’t worry.”

Soon, the morning was approaching the afternoon, and the rest of the Avengers still hadn't been back. You got a call from Natasha just as Bucky was bringing you a Gatorade. He tossed you the bottle and laid back down on his bed as you answered the call. Bucky reached over and put it on speaker, so he could chime in, too.

“Hey love, how are things going? Just wanted to call and check up on you.”

“Things are going great!”

“I hope you’ve been taking the time alone to your advantage.” Natasha spoke, trying to get you to spill the details without asking for them. Bucky responded in his deep voice,

“Natasha, I’ve done things that should land me in jail.” He stated, never having done some of the things you wanted before.

“Glad to hear you’re branching out. Do you need a couple more days alone? We can stay away for the entire weekend.”

“Yes.” Bucky answered without letting you even think. “Where are you guys, anyway?”

“We’re at Clint’s place. We promise to bring you guys back some smores, it’s like summer camp out here. Super woodsy.” She answered. “And it seems like you might need the extra calories by the time we come home.” She laughed.

“Bye, Nat. See you soon.” You smiled before hanging up the phone and facing Bucky.

“Do you ever get the feeling that Natasha was the mastermind behind setting us up?” You asked him with a smile.

“Oh, I know for a fact she did this to set us up, and I’m glad she did. Because I knew I was in love with you, but I had convinced myself you didn’t feel the same way about me. I never would have done anything, I never would have made a move. So for once in my life, I’m glad you have a shitty ex, because it brought me to you. I’m so sorry for all the pain you endured, and I wish I could take that away, but I’m always going to be thankful I have you now. This also wouldn’t have happened if Allie hadn’t found her new man. I’m not a superstitious guy, but I know that everything that happened was meant to bring us together.” Bucky spoke, and it was the first time he had really revealed his heart to you. You knew that you were in a so much better place than you were with your ex.

You knew that you didn’t want to hear about your ex’s new man because you found someone so much better than him and better for you, and his name was Bucky.

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