#universal city walk hollywood

[dippitydodaday]

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Yesterday was and will be our most vacation-y day of our trip. Our one day in the Universal Studios Hollywood theme park.

Now, I'd been watching the wait times on the Universal app over the last few days and, while the prevailing wisdom was to save the Harry Potter rides 'til the afternoon 'cause everyone was gonna ride them first thing... I could see those wait times at ten and twenty minutes between eight and ten in the morning after which they shot up to an hour and more.

So.

Between eight and ten.

My unspoken plan, then, was to get up super early, leave around six to beat all the Monday morning commute traffic, and hit the turnstiles promptly at eight after which we'd be able to knock off those and maybe a coupla other highly popular ride before ten.

Yeah.

That didn't happen.

We got up around six, left around 730, got into the park somewhat after ten after a Starbucks breakfast in City Walk. Then, first thing inside the park we had an official photograph taken because one of the Universal photographers asked us. Then we walked over to Hogsmeade, through Hogsmeade, to Hogwarts castle to wait in line for Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey.

The wait?

Eighty minutes.

We spent a bunch of that time moving through a shaded forestry area, eventually realizing the kids behind us were from Spokane on a band trip to a Disney music festival. Once inside, we discovered the kids in front of us were similarly from Washington state on a trip as a choir. They were super Harry Potter fans, though. One of them was wearing a Slytherin robe and wielding a wand, both of which set them back three hundred bucks. No problem, though, since they brought a thousand for Harry Potter merch plus—and this was very sweet—thoughtful gifts for their family back home.

We actually spent a bit of the waiting inside Hogwarts engaged with these kids who, for whatever reason, spent a big chunk of that time trying to figure out where in the context of eight Harry Potter Films this ride takes place.

Between films three and four, they decide. Harry's hair basically gives it away.

So yeah. That happened.

The ride itself is very clever. It's constantly in random motion the whole time whether actually in motion or virtually in motion. Either way, in some people it induces motion sickness. And I, as it turns out, was one of them. Only a little bit, though. It didn't hang on for long. But that was that and I'd done Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey.

After that, we thought beers in town... only the "town" was still inside Universal Studios Hollywood and the beers were sixteen bucks.

Each.

So we went back to Flight of the Hippogriff that's right across from Forbidden Journey.

Also an eighty minute wait.

Interesting, these long wait times didn't bother us 'cause there's lots to photograph and then lots of photographs to filter through my Snapseed app that's my tool of choice for tweaking, well, everything.

Eventually, the ride was shirt, fun, and didn't tweak my head like Forbidden Journey. Plus, just before we got on, we got a firm recommendation from the family behind us that Revenge of the Mummy ride was totally legit. So that was a definite To Do for our afternoon.

After finishing both Harry Potter rides, we indulged a bit of photography in Hogsmeade before heading over and down to the line for the Universal Studios back lot tour.

Forty minute wait. About an hour's worth of ride, though. During which we got to discover that, of our childhood experiences from this tour, only three remain: the flash flood, Jaws, and the Psycho house. The flash flood was pretty much what is always was. Jaws was somehow different. And we drove right in front of the Psycho house whereas my memory has me seeing the house before from below, up the hill.

Other than those experiences, everything else was new and pretty cool. Especially the two big 3D experiences: King Kong and Fast & Furious. Plus, adding that dude carrying a body and wielding a knife at the Bates Motel parking lot scene was an inspired addition. 🙂

One of the tips we got before coming down was never eat in the park. The prices gouge you. Which is true. Exhibit A: those sixteen dollar beers.

So we left the park for City Walk and The Toothsome Chocolate Emporium & Savory Feast Kitchen where we wanted to sit at the bar. Only they don't have a bar at this location but we got a good tip from the host and so headed straight for the bar at Margaritaville where we had a lovely business lunch.

A business lunch?

Yeah. That's how it worked out plus, due to an fortuitous error in billing, our food was basically paid for by other customers so we only had to pick up the beers.

And a very healthy tip.

By the time we were in the move again, making our way back into the park, it was not only somewhere between 330 and 4, but the temperature had also dropped a touch and the wind had picked up... making it seem like the temperature had dropped a lot.

Our first stop, believe it or not, was figuring out how to take a photograph of slogan attached onto the glass of a door in Springfield, home of The Simpsons.

The slogan?

DR. NICK RIVIERA

Unlicensed for over two decades!

Which, as it turns out, is tough to photograph when the glass in which it's attached is reflecting a lot of bright things.

The solution?

Take the picture from a huh angle pointing down so that the glass is reflecting the ground which is in shade. BAM.

After that, it's down the four separate escalators down to the lower lot. The Revenge of the Mummy ride is, conveniently, right there as soon as you hit bottom. And the wait?

Fifty five minutes.

No sweat.

Which it really wasn't although the line wasn't as engaging as wandering through all those Harry Potter movie sets on your way to Forbidden Journey.

By the time we hit the front of the line, it was quickly obvious we had different expectations of what this ride was... than what it really is. Me, I thought it was gonna be a cross between the walking part of The Haunted Mansion... and the riding part of that Indian Jones ride in Adventure Land. Instead, it's straight up a high speed roller coaster.

In the dark.

That goes forward a lot.

And backward a lot.

In the dark.

Did I mention that?

At first the ride seems sort of leisurely, trying to immerse you in a creepy vibe. Then, at some point, the creepy Egyptian god proclaims in a slow, creepy voice

Your soul. Is. Mine.

Only, the creepy Egyptian god puts more emphasis on the word MINE at which point we are launched into the darkness on what is now clearly a high speed roller coaster that, in that moment, literally takes your breath away. It's why, as Kimmer observed, everyone's so silent in their coaster cars as those cars return to the load/unload area.

It's a kind of stunned silence.

After that, I was thinking the Jurassic World ride, the only one I had in mind left to experience. We strolled a bit down to the Transformers 3D entrance after checking out some of the food places but nothing clicked. Then I showed Kimmer the end of the Jurassic World ride that's basically the end of Disney's Splash Mountain so now Kimmer's thinking we need to get plastic parkas.

So now we're on the hunt for plastic parkas, first at the Jurassic World store and then randomly walking about, asking certain people where they got theirs... which brought us back to the Jurassic World store where you can get them at the cash register.

Eleven bucks.

So we just got the one for Kimmer and got into the Jurassic World line.

Forty minutes.

During which time it gets colder. And it gets windier. And then the ride breaks down. And the wait time becomes Re-opening Soon.

Now waiting in line under such conditions isn't the worst thing because they've got large monitors everywhere that basically a TV channel for the faux Dinosaur facility that's educational and entertaining.

However.

It's getting colder. And, yes. There's a certain investment that settles in because the longer you wait... the more it feels like you have to wait because what if you leave and then the ride opens again???

An hour in, though, the announcement comes that they have no idea when the ride's gonna open again. So we abandon the wait with nothing to show for our experience except the one plastic parks we bought for Kimmer.

Back up at the upper lot again, it's colder, it's windier, sunset's definitely fallen on most of the park, and we head back to Hogsmeade for golden hour photography and one more turn of Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey.

Thirty-five minutes.

This time, we're in line with a dad and his two kids, locals with annual passes, who just spent the day in Super Nintendo World that included waiting three hours in line for Mario Kart: Bowser's Challenge.

The kids had the most magnificent day and we're eager to share their stories augmented by their dad's take on the logistics of the day and how all the virtual tech works. He even had a bit of video on his phone to fill out the experience.

Now, we're in line for the Forbidden Journey but he's not gonna ride it.

Why?

Because the last time he got such motion sickness he had to close his eyes. So he's dropping his kids at the front of the line and will meet them when they depart the ride.

We end up sharing the ride with his kids and, this time around, I get motion sick. Nothing vomit-y. Just a bit of dizziness that hangs on after the ride and doesn't let go.

Fortunately, we are done for the day. It's a little after 730. It's dark. It's cold. There really isn't anything else we want to do. So we make our way back to our campervan, Big Foot, grabbing me a mint tea from Starbucks along the way just in case I do have anything stomach related going on.

By the time we're back at Kimmer's cousin's place, it's around nine thirty and we settle in for an evening of boisterous family time that includes a pair of highschool freshmen as well as pizza and cookies homemade made by Kimmer. A quite fun and lovely way to enter the next phase of our trip: a round of camping for all of us starting later today.

I will say, before I have to get going as well, I had an epic night of sleep last night.

Thank God.

😁😁😁

[lifeofloon]

So happy to have a Toothsome's Chocolate Emporium and Savory Feast Kitchen here I'm CA now! Drinks are so good, we didn't even get pics of em!

Food shown is Pub it up Burger, French onion soup, and chocolate gnocchi with peppers and chicken.

[eatwhateveryouwant2-blog]

Check Out The New Hello Kitty and Friends Cafe and Sanrio Smile Shop at Universal CityWalk Hollywood for Their 50th Anniversary

[icelynodette]

Universal City Walk California To Oregon Travel Day

[treasurechestmemories]

Universal City Walk California To Oregon Travel Day

[luxebeat]

California Dreaming: Favorite Holiday Destinations

California Dreaming: Favorite Holiday Destinations

Gardens, hotels, and attractions throughout Southern California are decked with holiday installations to get you into the holiday spirit. Most have boutiques filled with decorations, lights and gifts to bring home to dazzle your own home and holiday tree. Here are my favorites: Universal Studios Hollywood Holidays at Universal Studios Hollywood Come enjoy holiday inspired cookies, funnel cakes…

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things: chapter six

Aizawa x reader fic

cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)

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Fridays are also the only day where you don’t go directly home after work. Instead of catching the late night Orange line, you snag the Blue and take it down, down, down, right out of the city and it’s the almost surreal serenity of the suburbs. Street lights and cars turn into trees as the sun dips low. Only the ambient sounds of your music and the wheels on the tracks keep you company as you pass familiar stops, all the way to the end of the line.

From there, you walk: down the dark sidewalks, across the one lane roads, stopping only in the little diner along the way. It’s hours later when you finally make it to the doorstep. Before you can knock, the door is ripped open.

“You’re late.” The shortest woman you’ve ever seen stands there, hands on her hips and glasses shoved to the top of her nose bridge. Her scrubs are baggy, but clean, with the name of her service stitched on the pocket: UA Palliative. “I thought you were hit by a car.”

“Sorry, sorry.” you try to laugh her concerns off.

“And you’re sweaty.” Nurse Chiyo clicks her tongue at you as she hands you a face mask. “You should really let him send a car.”

A car would be faster, but you can’t justify someone footing that bill when your metro card has money on it. “The exercise is good for me.”

The woman scrunches her face and gestures to the bag you’re holding. The bottom of the brown paper is practically see through with grease. In the other, you have two styrofoam cups, taken from the diner down the road. “And that food is good for you too?”

“It’s a friday treat.”

“Just don’t feel bad if he’s not hungry,” she sighs with the weight of someone who knows. “Towards the end, the appetite tends to dwindle.”

You slip on your face mask and slip off your shoes. Toshinori Yagi’s home drips with old money; subtle detailing mixed with hints of extravagance, it's the air of wealth with none of the gaudiness. The halls are sparsely decorated, only the occasional artwork and statue to keep you company as you walk to the back of the home, past the luxurious, yet almost never used kitchen and through the abandoned living room. There, in the middle of it all, hangs an oversized picture of Yagi back in his acting days.

If it was anyone else, it might seem egotistical, but the man on the wall might as well be a completely different man, a Yagi from another universe. Bound solely in brightly colored latex, this Yagi grins ear to ear, flexing an obscenely thick bicep for the camera. The Hollywood cameras and actors are a blur in the background. It’s from the set of his first All Might movie-- the one you’ve seen hundreds of times. The longer you stare, the more jagging it is. At 55, Yagi is twice the man that he was in his twenties, but a quarter of the size. All of the important pieces are there -his smile, his laugh, his energy- but there’s a part of him, always locked away in a time where this picture was taken.

You press on into the study. This room is a stark contrast from the rest of the house; it’s cluttered, all flat surfaces stacked with magazines and printed articles. Coloring pages litter the floor, in between broken crayons and pencils.

In between it all is a stick of a man, dirty blonde hair buzzed short enough you can see the shape of his skull. He’s pouring himself over some reading, tired eyes tracing the page with a monotonous haze. He’s lost weight again; you can see it in the sharp dip of his cheeks.

“Happy Friday.” You rap on the door frame and he jolts up in surprise. Hand over heart, he laughs in delight, even though he knew you were coming. “How are you?”

“I thought-” He inhales. You can’t remember all of the details of what’s happened to him, but you know one of his lungs is practically nonfunctional and the other struggles keeping up. “You’d be celebrating your birthday.”

“You remembered.”

“Of course.” He pushes up to stand, but you wave him back down. “You should be. Out with friends.”

“I’m happy where I am, sir.” You place everything on the table in front of him and then retreat to your side, your drink still in hand. Once you’re far enough away - six feet- you take off your mask. “Chocolate Peanut Butter shake and extra crispy fries, just for you.”

It’s his favorite. No, it doesn’t have the nutrition he should be getting, but… well, he’s going to die no matter what. Let the man have a fucking milkshake. He takes it in both hands, like he’s cradling an award or a piece of gold.

The first time cancer struck him, Toshinori Yagi decided to leave acting and do something with his money. He didn’t have a family to take care of -- and his sister is independently wealthy-- so he invested in medical technology. He hired a team that knew better than him, put some of them through school, and grew a rather successful business from the ground up, no formal training of his own. Now, ironically enough, he’s wealthier than ever, and still pouring it into product development.

“You do too much.” He picks the darkest fry of the group and crunches down on it.

It’s the least you can do. Isolation is taxing; you don’t mind sacrificing a bit of time and $19.76 for a quick meeting and meal. You settle down in your usual spot- a fluffy velvet chair in the corner of the room- and take a long sip from your own drink.

“How are things with Shouta?”

You choke so hard it goes up your nose. How did he know? Did the interns figure it out and pass along the word to the whole office? How are you going to explain to your boss that you’ve sexted his colleague? Or did Aizawa tell him? Oh, what if he shared those pictures--

“Wh-what about him?”

Yagi gives you a strange, tired look, brow knitted with a kind concern. “You called me- about his employee?”

You physically sigh with relief; no one knows. Everything is good; you need to stop panicking. Aizawa won’t share the pictures; it’d ruin his career faster than it’d ruin yours. Besides, he’s apparently embarrassed of you, so why would he even show you off? “Oh, well, everything’s good. Kaminari is back in the office.”

Your boss chews a single fry for a long while. A melancholic twang stirs inside you. No, you haven’t known him as long as some people, but over the years you’ve gotten attached. He’s a fair man, a good one too. Watching him waste is… it’s hard. Plain and simple. On the books, you say that you visit for work, but it’s honestly a social call, something to quell your worries.

“He wasn’t very happy when-- I called,” Yagi draws in from his nasal tube as he talks sometimes and it cuts his words short.

“Yeah, I know.” That’s an understatement. You chew on your straw as you try to decide how to respond. “Aizawa had some choice words for me afterwards.

The look on Yagi’s face tells you that he already knew that. Word always makes it back to the big boss one way or another; even sick, he always has his fingers in every pie.

“Don’t let him-” He runs out of breath in a weird spot. “Push you around. He’s a strong personality.”

That’s an understatement too. You wish you could stomp your feet and demand for his removal, but unfortunately Aizawa is very, very good at his job. Besides, you don’t especially want him fired. Maybe just… a series of paper cuts everyday for the rest of his life. Or that his train never comes on time. Nothing serious.

“Trust me- I won’t.” You throw an arm up and flex. “I can put up a fight.”

“No fighting.” The man tries to give you a stern look, but it just looks a bit silly. As demanding as it sounds, it's like being scolded by a grandfather; there’s too much affection between you for anything to feel threatening. “Don’t wage any wars in my office.”

“No promises!” you tease. “Ready to go over reports?”

He smiles back, those hollow cheeks pulling into tiny apples. “Of course.”

…

It’s late when you finally make it home. Yagi had forced you into a car, calling it a birthday gift, and the drive was long and quiet. The driver turned on some soft music, songs with the tinkle of piano, and you almost dozed off by the time he rolled into your apartment complex.

You kick your heels off and strip out of your work clothes as you enter your apartment, letting everything stay where it falls. In the wake of Touya, your place is pretty much empty, with the carpet still pressed in spots where lamps and tables used to be and a jammed lock that won’t click closed. The less time you spend here, the better. You throw yourself onto the couch -something too big to take, apparently- and flick on the television. The usual mindless garbage you like is already on; perfect background noise as you play on your phone.

There’s nothing super new going on. Couple of group chat notifications. Nemuri had texted you to check in-- so did Hizashi. And-

Aizawa’s unopened messages stare at you. There’s no reason to read those texts, right? It’s just mindless sex talk. In fact, he probably doesn’t want you to ever see those texts again.

…Unless he said something important. Maybe he had told you to play dumb at work! Oh, that would open its own can of worms, but at least it would explain why he said to forget everything-

Wait, that wouldn’t make sense. You two were alone at that point. He could have been normal or said something like ‘wow, love your tits!’ or--

Ugh. He wouldn’t say that! Ugh!

You pull on your messaging app again. You need to get this over with.

-> I bet you looked so pretty when you came.

The preview still makes your skin prick with unwanted excitement. The lust nipping at your ankles isn’t easy to ignore as you tap the button and open the conversation. The immediate visage of your words, your drunken musings and flirtations, makes you physically cringe. Luckily, the new messages take up enough space to keep you from seeing your own nude visage.

The first response hits you like a truck.

-> Do you have any idea what I’d do to lick your fingers clean? What I’d do to smell your perfume on your skin?

The thrum of your heartbeat goes funny for just a flash of a moment and you have to shake off any semblance of arousal. No-- you do not like this. There’s absolutely nothing sexy about that thought! You don’t want the warmth of his tongue or the tickle of his breath against your pulse point, or that little bit of scruff against your lips-

The video is below the first message. It’s paused on an out of focus still, but you can make out the golden touched skin of his stomach and the blur of hand. Heat flickers in your core at that, but you tense your legs and try to ignore it.

Get yourself together. It’s just a fucking jerk off video. You scroll right by it.

-> Look at what you do to me. It’s all for you.

There’s a couple of minutes between that text and the final one.

- >I think you fell asleep. Talk in the AM.

And… that’s it. Nothing else.

That told you nothing, other than the fact that Aizawa Shouta is just like any other man: a horny freak. A sexy, amazing texter of a freak, but still a freak regardless! When you move, you can feel the wetness between your legs spread against your pussy lips.

You turn over and try to focus on the medical drama that’s onscreen. Ugh. Ugh! You're over this man and his fucking bipolar attitude and his work bullshit and his, his, his….

The click on the wall ticks away.

His kind of alluring demeanor.

You turn back to your phone. Maybe the video has an answer. Yeah.

The volume on your phone thrums with audio, low and deep, when you click the image. It takes you a second to realize it’s a groan- unabashed and loud- and you swear it resonates deep down into your own lungs.

This video is aimed a bit higher than the other and is shot from farther away, probably resting on a desk from the looks of it. It feels silly that you ever confused him with Touya. Shirt clutched between his teeth, Aizawa’s skin is a deeper color, completely untattooed, and his chest is filled out with weight. A broad, thick hand is white knuckle tight around his cock, glazed and dripping with wetness. It’s thick, oh god, it’s thick, and he’s holding it so tightly that it must hurt. Your jaw aches at the sight of it. Everything about him is wide//, from his cock to his thighs to his slightly soft middle.

A bead of precum rolls from his tip as he slowly drags his hand up and back down. His entire body jumps and twitches with the sensation, a red blush tickling down his chest and another moan on his lips, muffled by the fabric of his black shirt. He makes the same sound again, this one softer, almost affectionate--

And you realize something that feels like a punch to the gut.

He’s saying your name.

Heat flushes your body. Oh, you can barely breathe out of fear you’ll miss something. With a high, tight sound, Aizawa’s body goes stiff, but his cock kicks as he comes undone. Spend splatters down his chest and onto his black shirt, pearl string after pearl string. Just like everything about him, it’s too much.

And then the video ends.

You digest this for a long moment. Then, you watch it again. And a third time.

There's a tremor in your hands as you put your phone down. Okay, that didn't give you any information, but it- well-

Fuck, it was hot. Really fucking hot. Unfortunately, terribly, awfully, horrendously hot. You want to scream and kick and rub your clit just a little, because all you need is a little friction and you'll cum for him again--

No. You can't give that victory to him, not again. Even if Aizawa will never know about it, the universe will.

You grip the remote and turn up the television's audio, trying to shift your focus on to the interpersonal drama on the screen. You’re stronger than this. The little thing between your legs does not dictate your behavior!

You don’t jack off that night.

Or the following night.

Or the following.

No, you resist. You punish yourself for even entertaining the idea of cumming to the idea of him again.

Monday morning you are unsurprisingly cranky when you settle into your desk. Kicking off your shoes and booting up your computer, you stretch in your chair and try to pop the kink in your shoulder. Thirty must be catching up with you, because you didn’t sleep well all weekend. Every muscle in your back is bunched, but the little bits of movements seems to be helping-

“Jesus fucking christ, I'm sweating through my fucking shirt.”

Bakugo's accent slips out as he gripes, pulling his shirt collar away from his neck as he walks. It’s easy to forget that he and Izuku grew up in the same hometown, but when he’s genuinely pissed, that homecooked Southern twang comes out. You look up to see what's gotten him so aggravated before nine. Sweat dampens his hair and glitters his skin. Oh, and he's right, that white shirt is absolutely clinging to his middle, into that tight, tiny, toned, slutty little waist of his--

Oh, god. You slam your foot into the edge on your desk in hopes the pain douses whatever horny monster had overtaken you. Is this just life now? Practically drooling over every man with a pulse? Bakugo Katsuki is gay and very much not your type-

“You okay?” Izuku gives an awkward laugh. He and Denki are apparently right behind Bakugo, equally worn. Well, almost equally. Denki doesn't seem to be sweaty at all, despite his puffing. “You're like, making this weird face.”

Shit. Quick-- lie. “Cramps.”

“Damn, hate that,” Kaminari grips his stomach in sympathy. The other guys share an uncomfortable glance.

“So-” You change the topic. “Why are you guys..?”

“The elevator is shot.” Bakugo hooks a thumb behind him towards the stairs. “Had to carry this fuck ass bed up to the fifth floor for that meeting today.”

The investor meeting: even though Toshinori Yagi is wealthy, the newest bed prototype still needed outside funding. These fine millionaires require occasional proof that their money is being used well, so once a quarter they get jammed into the nicest room in the building and get a rather boring lecture from the important department heads. You usually sit in and try not to nod off when Enji starts in with the accounting information.

“The entire elevator?” You lean back in your chair and try to see. Sure enough, some technician is fumbling away at the buttons. “No one tell the ADA.”

“Actually, the ADA is a law, not a governing body,” Izuku chirps. “It's enforced by the DOJ, EEOC, and, oddly enough, the DOT-”

“How do you know this shit?” Denki says.

“Healthy curiosity,” Izuku tries to say.

“‘cause he's a fucking genius.” Bakugo says at the same time, louder and more confident. “Using that big head of his all the time.”

Izuku touches his temples with a concerned frown. “You think my head is big?”

“Massive.” Bakugo elbows his lover, all saccharine smiles. “It works for me though.”

Kaminari snorts and the other blonde throws him an icy glare.

“What? You gonna make a joke about massive head?”

Kaminari throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes, surprisingly annoyed at the jab. “I was going to joke about his head working for you, but whatever! Ruin my fun.”

“As much as I love head jokes-” you interject. “I do need to get work done.”

Kaminari turns to you with the sweetest of smiles, so syrupy that everyone else recoils a bit with suspicion. “Like what?”

“Getting everyone’s powerpoints together, printing out our reports, putting those reports into actual human words and not engineering garbage, greeting our guests-- blah, blah, blah.” Just talking about it makes your head ache. “Plus the other daily reports and---- Kaminari, no.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

“You were going to ask me to do your work again!” you say.

“Come on, please?” He puffs his bottom lip out like a kicked dog. “I have to leave early this week and -”

“Denki, you’re so fucking stupid.” Bakugo groans. He starts to leave and the other two follow behind. “I'm too tired for your shit today.”

“There’s a gay joke hidden in there.”

“I'm going to report you to fucking HR.”

“See you at lunch?” Izuku asks from over his shoulder. You shake your head-- you’ll probably just sneak one of the forgotten italian ice cups from the freezer when no one’s working. There’s so much to do and not quite enough time.

--

You’re solving that little frozen treat into your mouth when Aizawa makes his appearance. It’s strange to see him so late in the day; pure embarrassment must be keeping him away. His usual sunny yellow sweatshirt means you can’t even pretend not to see him when he rounds the corner.

Aizawa is as he always is; a bit scruffy and properly annoyed. His expression is neutral, if not a bit sour, but the crinkle in his brow is tighter than ever. The bunch to his shoulders only gets higher when he spots you.

This is really the guy that's been tearing you apart? Really? Why couldn't you have fallen for Hizashi or Enji or-- anyone else that isn't wearing a neon hoodie in the office.

“You should really take a proper lunch.” Those deep bags under his eyes are darker than usual, almost purple; he must be drained, but he’s been avoiding the coffee machine. A twang of sympathy hits you-- lack of caffeine might actually kill the guy.

When he walks towards you, you're reminded of how pretty he is, even without proper sleep. High cheekbones, smooth olive tone skin-

Your fighting spirit almost fades, but the post it note taped to your monitor catches your eye. Be mean. Yes, that's right.

“Well, uh. What do you want?” Your tone is a bit snappy.

His eyebrows twitch up in momentary surprise, but Aizawa recovers quickly.

“The elevator won’t be fixed until tomorrow.” He raps his knuckles against the wood once. “Move the investor’s meeting from the top floor.”

“Say please.”

Aizawa is half turned and midstride when he realizes what you said. He looks back at you, brow knit.

“Excuse me?”

“I said.” You hit the spacebar with a bit too much force. “Say please.”

“I-” You expect him to fight or argue, but he just sighs, hands on his hips in defeat. “You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't demand things. Can you please move the investor’s meeting from the top floor down to the ground floor? Thank you.”

That was more sincere than you expected. Your stiff upper lip almost wobbles. Almost.

“No.”

He gives you the most deadpan stare you’ve ever seen. “What do you mean, no?”

“I said no.” You push back from the desk and let your wheeled chair roll away. “There’s no reason to move it. The room upstairs is already set up for the meeting-- full demo bed included. I’m not moving everything.”

A muscle tightens in his jaw. Seems like that good attitude is on a short fuse. “There's a second demo. I'll have the boys wheel it into the meeting room on this floor-”

“It’s a less finished model though, right?”

“That's…” Aizawa huffs. You know you’re right and so does he. “Yes. Sure. A less complete model, but it’s still leagues ahead of what they saw last time- ”

“We shouldn’t use it.” You have no right bossing him around, but you try to embody Bakugo and his cunt-like behavior. “They are going to see the best we have to offer. Besides, the fifth floor meeting room is bigger and nicer-- and it's already set up.”

“I-” He leans forward, arms crossed on to your desk. It’s not threatening, but rather humble, as he meets your eye. The silver healed skin of his scar catches the light differently than the rest of his face. “It’s four full flights of stairs.”

“And you can walk.”

A beat passes. Then another. Aizawa stares at you, dark eyes hooded with exhaustion.

“I have never, ever thought of you as a cruel person.” He doesn’t blink the entire time he speaks, deep, endless black eyes boring into yours. “But time and time again, you show me that side of you. “Well-” You don’t blink either. “I’ve always thought you were awful.

“Fuck you,” he grits out, quiet but with an edge. His lips are curled so high you can see his gum line.

You should let it die here. Let him walk away. Escape with your dignity.

But your teeth and tongue are sharp, and the look on his face is only sharpening their edges, so follow the instinct and go in for the kill. As you stand, you lean on to your hands and push yourself face to face to Aizawa. Unabashed, unafraid, unblinking.

“You wish you could.”

His face collapses. Then, it hardens again, even tighter and more disgusted than usual. The flat ridge of his nose is crinkled with a snarl, eyes narrowed so thin they're practically closed. When he pushes away to stand, Aizawa jams his hands into his sweatshirt and flexes his jaw, up and down like he's chewing on every insult and curse he wants to throw your way. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again with a deep exhale.

“Fine.” He says through closed teeth. “Fifth fucking floor.’

And with that, he turns and marches off back down the hall.

By the time you breathe again, you realize your hands are quaking. The adrenaline is still pumping through your veins, rushing your heart faster and faster. This must be how a marathon runner feels when they cross the finish line-- because this is victory.

Sorry, Yagi. War has been waged.

You did say no promises.

[imaginesbymonika]

“Shame” Part 7

A Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader fan fiction

Plot: For the last four years, Y/N and Pedro have been dating in secret. The fear of rejection has turned them into a mystery that could only be encountered in yearning looks on red carpets or hands that are touching one another briefly. However, for the longest time, things have been working out that way just fine. But now Pedro's agency wants him to have a PR relationship with another woman and neither Y/N nor Pedro is sure if their love is going to survive that.

Warnings: swearing, mgg is here to STAY (this is for you kim, love ya)

A/N: you guuuyss!! hello!!! i was gone for such a long time (?) i was just really busy with university and just life, but yeah, im back for now, i guess <3

"To be honest, I didn't expect you to show up.", the tall man states as his eyes light up at the sight of the young woman. Y/N just chuckles at the sincerity in his voice. She watches how he takes a step to the side, offering her to walk through the door into his home. There is a certain tension, lingering in the chilly evening air. Who would have thought, that they were living in the same city… She mouths a brief 'thank you' before doing so and waits for him to close the door. However, before he does his brown eyes scan the street in front of the building. Curious if any paparazzi have seen her. But once he realizes that no one has noticed his guest his posture visibly softens.

„Well, I didn’t expect you to reach out to me, Gubler.“ At the mention of his last name, he giggles (actually giggles) and wipes the corner of his mouth with his left thumb. His gaze falls on the floor for a second, before he meets Y/N's again. She can clearly see that he wants to say something in return but doesn't. Instead, he makes a hand gesture, telling her to step further into the house.

„Oh my god… This is actually so stunning.“, the y/h/ced woman whispers as she wanders down the corridor into his living area. She can sense Matthew’s eyes on her form but acts like she has no idea. "Thanks.", is all she receives back.

A silence falls upon the two again and when she sits down on his long couch, she feels its softness:" You know, I always wanted a couch like this myself." "Why didn't you buy one?"

"Are you sure this is the one?", Pedro scratched his chin, his finger moved up his face and stayed underneath his nose. He taps his skin a few times and sighs:" Don't you think that leather would be a better choice?" There was something in his look that told Y/N that the decision was already made.

"I don't know." He lets out a soft chuckle:" Well, I tend to spend a lot of time in here. So I figured, that the least I can do is make this space as cozy as humanly possible." Y/N feels how she sinks further into the colorful and fuzzy furniture:" Oh Really? Because whenever I see videos of you meeting fans, you appear to be outside quite a lot!" At that, Matthew laughs out loud:" You've seen videos of me online?"

"I may have looked you up."

The actor crosses his arms in front of his chest, and Y/N watches how his muscles flex. She swallows and her hands stroke the material of the couch. "You looked me up?"

"You're asking me a lot of questions." His chuckle is as soft as honey. Y/N already wants to hear it again." You're right, sorry." "But yeah, I did."

Hot tears were dwelling up in her eyes and she felt how her hands were violently shaking:" God! Everyone thinks that you are so sweet! That you're this perfect nice guy! Hollywood's goddamn fucking sweetheart! I wish people could know the disgusting and ugly and horrendous truth about you and your stupid and mean lies! And- and- and the way you're only acting! You're not like that at all! You have them all fooled!"

Pedro stared at her. Her hand flew up to wipe her eyes:" You're so mean!" "You don't mean that.", Pedro whispered and swallowed thickly. "You're so mean."

[cityofmeliora]

Ghost and Southern California

i'm from California, so a lot of the locations in the Ghost lore are familiar to me! i wanna use this post to show / explain Ghost being set in the Los Angeles area.

though it hadn't been explicitly stated yet then, there are actually hints that Ghost is based in Southern California as early as Chapter 4: The Accident. when Sister Imperator is driving, you can see palm trees on the hills along the road. of course, lots of places have palm trees, but the specific combination of palm trees with the rocky cliffs and sparse vegetation feels distinctly Californian to me.

the Dance Macabre music video shows Nihil met Sister Imperator at a mansion in LA (as explained by the intro). don't know the exact location, but if i had to guess, i'd place it maybe somewhere in Beverly Hills, which has a lot of mansions like this.

the Kiss The Go-Goat music video again confirms that they're in Los Angeles. it features the Whisky a Go Go, a real music venue in West Hollywood. the Mary On A Cross animated music video accurately places it on a corner along the Sunset Strip.

the Mary On A Cross lyric video shows Sister Imperator walking through the Ministry building before leaving to see the show at the Whisky a Go Go. this is another indicator the Ministry building is in the LA area since it's within driving distance of the venue. scenes in the Ministry building are filmed at a real mausoleum northeast of LA, but i'm not going to name the location because the Ministry is supposed to be a fictional building. interestingly, the lyric video also gives us the exact time of the concert.

after the events of Kiss The Go-Goat, the Mary On A Cross animated music video starts with Sister Imperator driving to her house, which is in the Hollywood Hills neighborhood near the Hollywood Sign. you can see from the road that they're in the hills looking over the city.

then Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil run from their house to the Hollywood Sign. there are hiking trails that go from the surrounding neighborhoods up to the Hollywood Sign. you can go behind it just like they do in the video.

Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil cross a body of water that is most likely the Hollywood Reservoir, although the video places the Hollywood Sign west of the lake instead of east, as in real life.

Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil make out in a cemetery (which i did not attempt to locate) and then end up at a motel. this is not a real motel, though. it's the Bates Motel movie set at Universal Studios Hollywood. i laughed so hard because recognized it instantly in Rite Here Rite now. (i've been on the same tour that the Nameless Ghouls were on.) Universal Studios Hollywood is both a theme park and an actual film studio. there are people filming when Nihil calls Mr. Psaltarian to come pick him up in the The Future Is A Foreign Land music video.

so to summarize some of the locations in those videos: the Whisky a Go Go, Hollywood Sign, and Universal Studios are highlighted in yellow. the red outline on the map shows the boundary of the Hollywood Hills neighborhood. the Hollywood Reservoir is the body of water in the middle of it.

The Future Is A Foreign Land music video and Chapter 13: The Beach Life feature Mr. Psaltarian's beach house, which is on the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu. though there are beach houses all along the SoCal coast, Malibu is closest to LA, and is pretty much the only place where houses are that close to the water without some kind of barrier. it's a real house and i've driven past it. i know the exact location but i'm not sharing it, for obvious reasons.

here is Malibu on a map relative to Los Angeles:

as a side note, it appears Cardi now drives Mr. Psaltarian's old car, a 1968 Buick LeSabre convertible. it has California license plates, of course, but the plates must have been replaced at some point, since that California license plate design wasn't in use until 1988.

lastly, Rite Here Rite Now is set at The Forum (now called KIA Forum), which is in Inglewood near the LAX airport. Inglewood is technically its own city, but it's completely surrounded by LA.

when Rite Here Rite Now released, TF said in an interview that it's "common knowledge" that Ghost is based in LA. i found it a bit funny because i've read very few Ghost fanfics that are actually set in LA, so i don't know how 'common' that knowledge really is, LOL. but i hope this post helps!

WHAT WAS BEHIND THE DECISION TO SHOOT THE FILM AT THE FORUM IN L.A.? TOBIAS FORGE: [...] There’s this common knowledge that the HQ of the band seems to be in L.A. So the Forum is not only a classic venue, but it’s sort of their home turf. Had we placed the story someplace else, we would’ve had to justify: Why are they there? Why is this show special? Revolver (June 2024)

[fiapartridge]

quinn x oona | how they met pt. 1! 🚙🌃✨

author's note: this is like kinda how they met??? like when they first saw each other, but they haven't learned each other's names yet, you know???? anyways hope u enjoy their little universe! send in asks for this au!

Who has a party at 2:56 AM on a Tuesday in the middle of February? Stupid ass people, that’s who, and Oona was ready to blast a hole through the wall that connected her living room to the apartment beside it. Honest to God, the only thing that was stopping her from going full-on Hulk on that piece of thin fiber cement was, well, the landlord and her roommate, Grace Castellan (Gracie to everyone who knows her, and ‘that one talkative white girl’ to everyone who didn’t).

Oona met Gracie in her first year at NYU. They were in their Intro to Theatre Studies class when Gracie talked up the ear of anyone in a 10-mile radius of her, and the only person who didn’t mind and actually enjoyed Gracie’s endless tangent of how blackholes are somehow exactly like the Kardashians’ reality show, was Oona. They sat next to each other for the rest of the semester, and once they graduated college, they decided to move back to their home city of Vancouver, Canada where, coincidentally, they both were from, using this time to audition for roles and hopefully land themselves a part that will guarantee them a ticket to Hollywood, or at least a ticket back to New York (rent is hard to manage there when you’re living off of small commercial roles and hand modeling gigs).

As Oona sat on her living room couch, a snoring Gracie and her long pajama-covered (they have unicorns on them) legs were limp across Oona as she tried to push her tired limbs off and slip towards the door without making a peep. But, much to Oona’s sheer luck (she isn’t a very lucky girl), a peep was made and there Gracie was, sitting up in so much alarm you would think that an intruder just busted through the door and screamed at her to put her hands up.

“I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING! OONA HAS MONEY STORED IN HER UNDERWEAR DRAWER! PLEASE DON’T KILL US!” Gracie screamed, still half-asleep and disoriented.

Oona groaned, lightly slapping Gracie’s cheek. “No one’s here, you psycho. I’m just getting up to go somewhere.”

Gracie peeled her eyes open, brushing her messy hair with the tips of her pink-and-white-painted fingernails. “Where are you going at,” she took a moment to check the Apple watch on her wrist. “2:56 AM?”

Oona walked closer to the door, slipping on a pair of Uggs and tying her hair into a messy bun, pulling out strands to frame her face correctly. “Do you not hear that? They’re louder than your brother was at that time we went to the mall and he was screaming at you to buy him that ugly RC car.”

Gracie shivered. “I’ve gotten a lot of weird looks in my lifetime, but those 40 year old women in the toy aisle of Sears? I still get chills.”

“See? Now I’m going to go over there and make them wish they never even moved here.”

Gracie rolled her eyes. “No way. The last time you said something like that, you ended up being the one apologizing. You’re the biggest pushover I have ever met.”

Oona scoffed. “Am not! I just—”

“Want everyone to like you,” Gracie interrupted. She was right. Gracie was always right when it came to Oona, but Oona would never admit that. She was a people pleaser, but who was that hurting? If she said yes to everything and if she was nice to everyone, then no one was sad and no one got what they didn’t want. Well, except for Oona.

Sighing, she said, “I’m just gonna go talk to them. Maybe they’ll come to their senses.”

Gracie laughed, tilting her head back slightly. “Yeah, right. I saw them on the elevator last week; they’re hockey douchebags to the max.”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They’re having a party at almost 3 AM, if you combined every player on that team, they would probably make up one brain cell, and I can smell the beer from here, but yeah, sure they’re great people.”

“Fine, fine,” Oona huffed. “But I’m still gonna talk to them. Maybe they’ll change,” she smiled, a too optimistic smile for a dire-looking situation. Because who ever heard of a hockey player changing his ways? No one, that’s who.

Opening the door, Oona walked the small five steps over to the neighboring apartment. She knocked once, twice, three times, even. Nothing. The blaring music must’ve drowned out her pounding knocks. Just as she was about to go in for a fourth, the door opened and her body quickly went with it. 

“Woah there,” a voice echoed through her ears, holding her body up as his hands softly gripped her arms. She stumbled back, landing on her two feet and managing to stay vertical despite the embarrassment rushing through her cheeks and the small little voice in her brain telling her to get the hell out of there immediately. 

The man standing in front of her was tall, taller than anyone she knew, and he had short blonde hair and the clearest green eyes she had ever seen. He had an accent that she wasn’t too familiar with. German maybe? Or possibly Swedish? 

“Um, do you live here?” she asked, tapping her nails against the metal frame of the door. And looking beyond the tall Swedish man, she could tell that it wasn’t much of a party, but a hangout. More tall men were lingering in the living room, beers in hand and potato chips spilled on every counter. On the center island in the kitchen lay an abandoned plate of celery and carrots, most likely a tribute to their strict hockey diets that apparently no one was following.

He shook his head.

“Okay,” she talked slowly. “Um, do you know who lives here?”

“Yep.”

Breathing deeply, Oona tapped her fingers a bit harsher against the doorframe, still maintaining a gentle smile on her (now) slightly red face. “Can you bring them here? I need to talk to…whoever it is.”

Nodding, he turned around, cupping his mouth with his large hands and yelling, “Huggy!” before waving him over to where they stood at the entryway.

Huggy? Oona chuckled at the nickname. Who nicknames a ferocious hockey player Huggy?

But as the shorter boy moved through, somehow, still energetic bodies and met the two at the door, Oona felt something crawl around her stomach and make the fading red of her cheeks come back in harsher hues. His hair was a chestnut color and it looked soft and smooth, like you could run your hands through it a million times and it still wouldn’t be enough. He wore a gray hoodie and black jeans, his hands in his pockets as he smiled politely at the blushing girl.

“Can I help you?”

Her mouth ran dry as she licked her lips. She tucked the thin strands of black hair behind her ear and proceeded (or tried to proceed). “It’s 3 AM and I’m trying to sleep,” Oona said, hoping he would take the hint and quiet down a bit.

He scoffed, smirking with his cute lips and his cute hair and his cute gray hoodie that looks so soft you just want to wrap your cold body in it. And it probably smells good, too. It probably smells like his scent in the mornings, woodsy yet fresh like white linen sheets and candles that would make you think he has a woman living with him, but nope. That’s just him. But Oona’s just guessing. Not to make things weird or anything. She’s totally not dreaming about what her handsome neighbor’s hoodie smells like because that would be weird—haha. Totally weird.

He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over themselves, and while he wasn’t as tall as the man that initially opened the door, he made Oona feel just as small. His smile was infectious, but not in a big ‘bring it in, let’s hug way,’ but in a more sultry way. Like you can feel a rollercoaster rumbling in your stomach despite him not saying a single word. 

“Are you?” he asked.

She laughed at that because there was no way that he was serious. It didn’t even sound like a question, God it sounded like…like flirting? But that wasn’t even the bizarre thing, no the bizarre thing was that somehow made Oona 10 times angrier. Why was he flirting with her? Does he think that she’ll just fall into his trap and let it all slide? Does he think that she’s just a stupid girl that he can get to do anything he says? Because that’s not Oona Hashimoto. Not in the slightest. And if he wants to play that game, then fine. 

Let’s play that game.

She stepped closer, her hand landing on his bicep as he stuttered for a moment. Like he was on high alert all of a sudden. His eyes wandered down to her hand, and then he relaxed because she was falling right into the palm of his hand, so he thought. She raised her head, staring him right in his deep green eyes. She pouted a bit, changing her whole demeanor. Because they’re playing the same game here. It’s just a matter of who will crack first.

“Please?” she asked, gazing up at him with brown doe eyes. “I won’t say a word after tonight. Just do this one thing? Please?”

He sighed, straightening up and causing her hand to fall off his bicep. “As much as I’d love to do that,” he grinned. “I don’t want to.”

Her brows furrowed, her doe eyes turning into burning rage, and lips turning from a pout to a pissed off frown. “What do you mean you ‘don’t want to?’”

He shrugged. “Exactly that. Goodnight,” he smiled before placing his hand on the door and slowly shutting it before Oona held it open, scoffing.

“No, you don’t get to be an asshole and then just shut the door on me. All I’m asking is for you to just turn down the music!” 

“Yeah, well it sounds like the person being loud is you,” he pointed. Bending down to Oona’s level, he whispered, “You’re shouting.”

“You are insufferable, you know that?”

“Yeah, you said it a couple of times. Can I go now or do you want to keep going?”

Oona crossed her arms, fury burning through her veins as she watched him smile as if he did nothing wrong. As if he was enjoying this. “Go to hell.”

“See ya there, neighbor.”

[maplewozapi]

hey, it's me, the anon that left the ask about studying Native American history and cultural appropriation. Thanks for the book recommendations, I've added them all to my to-read list.

It's crazy how much people seem to dislike the topic of history I've chosen, but you genuinely helped so much. Definitely reassured me. I've also bought bury my heart at wounded knee which is a *bit* outdated but was the first book I bought on the topic so I always think of it fondly, and another called Blood and Land, and also one called a Century of Dishonour, which was written in the 1880s (very outdated in areas but also. definitely against the government policies). I'm also trying to expand my reading horizons from what happened in the 19th century USA.

(Btw, wasn't Killers of the Flower Moon turned into a film recently starring Leonardo di Caprio?? I wondered if you'd watched it. I would like to find some more modern films/tv shows with good indigenous rep - I watched Annie Get Your Gun a while back but frankly it was shit. I want to purge it from my mind).

I hope you have a lovely day, I just thought I'd say thanks for the recommendations and the reassurance </3

Yes I am very excited for the movie to come out, and there’s nothing wrong with outdated books besides biases told by the white people at the time, you gotta be picky and not take everything at face value. I read so many old books and university papers of recounts of native history and it’s kind of an art to describe them and the bs some of them say and the crab meat of truth you’re trying to find. Or like by proxy of growing up and hearing stories, and then using those accounts to figure out "oh that’s what they mean" or "Oh they mean this thing not that, they mixed it up." Cultural and language mistranslations are just so prevalent.

Then here’s some movie and video recommendations, I’ll just say with Wind River and Bury my heart again be kinda thoughtful about them. Bury my heart has like this Hollywood kinda atmosphere, more cinematic it’s a great movie but it’s also based on events and they kinda dramatized some. Gives me the same feeling of "woman who walks ahead." Still great movies and a great way to get a feel for thing that happened back then. I really love news of the world too especially what they show with the buffalo and little girl, but I really wish they hired a native actress, it’s true that adoption of any race of people happened a lot in tribes but the representation of native kids in Hollywood is nonexistent and I think these movies would be so much better portraying native head leads. With Wind River if Jeremy renner and Elizabeth Olsen where switched out with native leads the plot would be so much richer. Like a city native and Rez native story would be so good. Movies that greatly follow white leads or have white characters for the yt audience to attach to just limits the movie for me.

[shadowland]

Emmylou Harris interview by Cameron Crowe Rolling Stone, June 19, 1975

Fame Catches Up with Emmylou

Los Angeles – Guitar in hand, Gram Parsons sat in his road manager’s Laurel Canyon home and coached singer Emmylou Harris through the harmonies of the old Burritos classic, “Sin City.” Later, after she’d excused herself for a visit to the kitchen, Parsons grinned proudly. “There she is,” he said, “that’s my kick in the ass, keep an eye on her.”

That was in 1973. Now, two years later, Harris’s first major solo effort, Pieces of the Sky, has done well and her current club and concert tour (augmented by a band featuring Elvis’s guitarist James Burton and his keyboard player Glen D. Hardin) is drawing unanimous raves. But Emmylou Harris, it seems, is the last to catch up with Emmylou Harris. Still a bit dazed over Parsons’s untimely death in the fall of ’73, the 28-year-old singer is only now waking up to the reality of a successful solo career.

“I know what’s happening but it hasn’t really hit me yet,” she drawls softly, curled up on the sofa of a West Hollywood hotel room. Two nights earlier, she’d enthralled a capacity Palomino Club audience that included such luminaries as Bonnie Raitt, Maria Muldaur, Lowell George, Commander Cody, Joni Mitchell and Linda Ronstadt (for whose recent country hit, “I Can’t Help It” Harris provided the strong counter harmony). “I guess it’s just been a kind of long hard road. In a way I’ve been at this for almost ten years on almost all kinds of levels – from waiting tables to playing in New York clubs and not having anybody listen to me, to making a terrible first record for a bankrupt company to working with Gram.

“I suppose working with Gram was the most amazing thing that ever happened to me,” she continues. “There was just something very magical about the experience. It was so much fun to just get up there, sing with him, and not worry about carrying a show myself. Everyone paid all this attention to me and told me how good I was and all that. It was really like being some kind of fairytale princess. Somehow that affected me more than all this that’s happening now.” She lets her words settle for a moment, then decides on a quip. “Maybe I’m on time delay.”

Born in Alabama and raised in Virginia, Harris remembers a reputation of being a “real prig” in high school. “I was considered to be a kind of oddball. You know, always studying and making good grades. Singing began as a social thing. I realized when I started singing at parties people began noticing me. High schools are real hip now, everybody’s cool, but there was a counter-culture in Woodbridge, Virginia, in 1963. You were either a homecoming queen or  a real weirdo. Here I was a 16-year-old Wasp, wanting to quit school and become Woody Guthrie.”

Instead, Harris made it to the University of North Carolina on a drama scholarship. Using free time to play off-campus bars in a folk duo, she lasted a year and a half before applying to the more prestigious drama department at Boston University. “I was gonna work as a waitress in Virginia Beach for a while to get enough tuition money,” she recalls. “But there was an incredible little music scene going on down there. That’s when I got serious about singing.”

Harris never made it to Boston U. “I thought I was going to get married. My first big love below up in my face, so I just went to New York ’cause there was nothing else to do. I was greener than green. I got a room at the YWCA, started going to the Village, playing basket houses [pass-the-hat-clubs] and just . . . hangin’ out.”

In two years of scuffling around New York, Emmylou made some valuable friends like singers Jerry Jeff Walker and David Bromberg. “Besides turning me on to country music, they sort of looked out for me,” she says. “Even so, I must have had some protective kind of bubble around me. I used to walk home from gigs on dark streets at two in the morning with my guitar and never think anything of it. Looking back, I get scared to death.”

Harris’s first album (on the now defunct Jubilee records), recorded in New York just after her marriage, is one she’d like to forget. “I was trying to keep it a secret,” she laughs (ironically, since the 1970 release was titled Emmylou Harris). “I hope somebody in authority will be able to buy the masters and burn them. Everybody involved with that record hated everybody else and I was in the middle trying to keep the peace. It was a disaster.”

Several months after recording, “the worst possible thing any girl could ever do to her budding career” happened. Harris became pregnant with her child, Hallie. “Up until then,” she admits, “my life had been a little too nebulous, I had no clear vision at all. The pregnancy, although it wasn’t planned, gave me something very real and something present to relate to.”

Later, with her marriage broken and ten dollars in her pocket, the protectiveness of motherhood, soon drove Harris out of New York. “I didn’t know where I was gonna go, but I knew I had to get a job and make some money. By accident I got back into music through some friends, Billy and Kathy Danoff [writers of ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’]. They were still living in their basement apartment with all the cockroaches running around. They were the ones that put a guitar in my hands and ordered me onstage again.”

It was early ’71 when Flying Burrito Brothers guitarist Rick Roberts stumbled onto Harris performing in a small Washington D.C. bar called the Red Fox. The next night, Roberts brought the rest of the Burritos down for a look. They invited her to join the band; before she could accept, the Burritos had dissolved.

“Chris Hillman,” Emmylou remembers, “wanted to come out to L.A. so he could produce some demo tapes. He was really busy at the time. Anyway, I think it probably worked out the way it should have.” The way it worked out was for Hillman to turn on Gram Parsons, the Burritos’ long estranged cofounder, to their incredible discovery. Months later, Parson dropped in on one of Harris’s many D.C appearances and made a few vague promises. A year later, Parsons invited her to L.A. to sing on his first solo album, GP. Their partnership quickly intensified. “It was gonna be a Dolly Parton-Porter Wagoner situation. We didn’t see any need to break up that partnership because we really got higher on what we did together than anything we did separately. I still feel that way.”

It was hard work, she says, that kept her from slipping into an extended depression. “Gram’s death was like falling off a mountain. It was a very hard year between his death and the recording of my album [Pieces of the Sky]. A year of throwing myself into a lot of work that my heart wasn’t really into. There was a lot of stumbling involved. I was playing quite a few bars and was in a real vulnerable position. People felt that they could come up and ask me anything. I used to get hostile. It  hurt. I didn’t want to get emotional around some perfect stranger who had the goddamn gall to come up and ask me something that was none of his goddamn business.”

The subject brings her close to tears. “Gram was such an amazing part of my life. I have so many good memories of him, it seems pointless to dwell on the tragedy of it.” Abruptly, she reaches to turn up the country station already blaring from a hotel room radio. “Do you like Conway Twitty?” she asks. “I just love the harmony on this.”

Pieces of the Sky was almost a year long project in itself. Emmylou for one could not be more proud. With the help of Anne Murray’s ex-producer Brian Ahern, great care was taken in selecting material. “I’m just starting to write again,” says Harris. “I don’t mind the fact that I only wrote one song [“Boulder to Birmingham,’ cowritten with Bill Danoff] on the album. There are just too many tunes that I get off doing and want to turn people on to. I feel very deeply and personally involved with each one, so I don’t miss that writer’s identity of making a statement.

“I think any singer feels that way,” Harris says about choosing songs like the Everly Brothers’ “Sleepless Nights,” the Beatles’ “For No One”and Dolly Parton’s “Coat of Many Colors.” Like Linda [Ronstadt]. When she sings a song it’s really sung. Nobody cares that she doesn’t write; the delivery’s all that really matters.”

Besides a heavy touring schedule and the summer recording of her next album, Emmylou Harris spunkily refuses to acknowledge the long-range future. “A lot of my life has been circumstance. The future just doesn’t exist for me. You’re not responsible for decisions if you don’t make them.

“What do I see in the future?” Harris asks, reaching for the telephone. “A chocolate shake. Hello, Room Service?”

[thislovintime]

The Monkees with CFUN DJ's Terry David Mulligan and John Tanner in Vancouver, April 1, 1967.

“Regina: CKCK’s Terry David Mulligan claims to be the first Canadian air personality with an interview with the Monkees and he has a tape to prove it. Anyone wishing a copy can take Mulligan up on his boast by sending him a blank tape and he will return a dub to sender. Terry also did a 30 minute Christmas show with Peter Tork, his sister and brother. They sang cuts from the Monkees new LP (Mulligan sings too)[,] sang a few carols and just chit-chatted in a relaxing mood.” - RPM Canada, January 28, 1967 (this Christmas 1966 anecdote was previously posted here and more about Christmas 1967 here)

“History records that The Monkees played their first Canadian concert in Winnipeg on April 1/1967. What never gets mentioned is that the first time all four Monkees set foot on Canuck soil was many hours earlier, in Vancouver, while en route to Manitoba’s capital city. Top 50 radio station CFUN assigned two deejays—Terry David Mulligan and John Tanner—to meet Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, Michael Nesmith and Peter Tork at Vancouver International Airport. A photo op ensued in a private waiting area as the lads waited, shortly after sunrise, to board a connecting flight. 'If you study that picture, you could tell two of the guys (Davy and Peter) were really into it and the other two (Micky and Mike) didn’t really want to be there,' recalls Mulligan (second from right in photo). 'They weren’t pissed off at us. They were just tired and weren’t particularly into having their picture taken that early in the morning.' Nevertheless, all six exchanged pleasantries. Despite the early hour, Davy Jones seemed friendly and 'Mike Nesmith was so whip smart, while Micky Dolenz had this interesting Hollywood vibe about him,' remembers Mulligan. Terry and Peter got the opportunity to renew acquaintances. The previous year, when Mulligan was spinning discs at CJME Regina, 'who should walk in but Peter Tork. Of course, I asked: "What are YOU doing here?" And Peter answered: "My dad (Halsten John Thorkelson) teaches at the University of Saskatchewan and I dig your radio program."' Peter would take a couple of additional breaks from Monkees commitments to visit his family. Each time, he’d visit Mulligan at CJME. 'We’d always have really good off-air chats, in between as I was playing records.' For his part, CFUN deejay John Tanner (second from left in photo) boarded the plane bound for Winnipeg with The Monkees. 'I remember being at the tail of the plane while The Monkees and their entourage were much further forward. I walked up there at one point and noticed some of them were sleeping. So I went back to my seat as I didn’t want to bother anyone.' Prior to the late afternoon Monkees concert at the Winnipeg Arena, Tanner said he killed some time walking 'what seemed to be the coldest streets in Winnipeg.' Indeed, band insider David Price would mention the frigid 17 degrees Fahrenheit daytime temperature when he subsequently wrote a four-page article titled My Life With The Monkees—That Wild Canadian Weekend for 16 magazine that detailed the April 1 concert in Winnipeg and the ensuing show in Toronto on April 2. Price, who also served as a decoy for Davy Jones (in addition to other band duties), claimed The Monkees came to Canada aware of rumours that attempts might be made on their lives during the two concerts. In the 16 magazine piece, Price wrote: 'Mike asked me and his friend Charlie Rockett and Mike’s wife Phyllis’s brother Bruce Barbour to make sure that any packages that landed onstage were thrown off again, because one of them might contain a bomb.' In the end, the only ‘bomb’ at the Winnipeg show was a water bomb hurled at Micky Dolenz atop the seven-foot high stage just before opening song Last Train To Clarksville. Seconds before, the four Monkees burst out of phoney amplifiers on either side of the stage, with the boys having hidden themselves within when the house lights were momentarily turned off. Likely backing up The Monkees onstage was Candy Store Prophets. If so, that band’s members—including guitarist Tommy Boyce and keyboardist Bobby Hart—had played on many early Monkees studio tracks that Boyce and Hart produced. Winnipeg-based Electric Jug & Blues band opened the show. Press reports later revealed that before the concert, rambunctious fans charged past about 30 police officers as the band left the Hotel Fort Garry for the arena. Monkees publicist Don Berrigan described the incident as a 'near riot' adding 'Mike and Davy were knocked down. It was really nasty.' There were apparently well over 400 police and security inside the arena. Perhaps it was the security concerns that resulted in Winnipeg and Toronto fans receiving slightly shorter concerts than about a dozen previous American shows in late 1966 and early ‘67—13-song setlists, three less than south of the border. The Winnipeg concert marked the first time Peter Tork-sung Your Auntie Grizelda, was played publicly. 'He really dug it, and so did the audience,' wrote Price. [...] Back in Winnipeg, after final song I’m A Believer, the band rushed to limos to return to the hotel, before taking an evening flight to Toronto. A subsequent Canadian Press article noted that one policeman was taken to hospital after a wire retaining fence collapsed on him when 'thousands of fans surged towards the rear exits in an unsuccessful bid to catch a glimpse of their departing idols.' The officer was treated for cuts and abrasions and released. The official capacity of Winnipeg Arena was 11,800. But Price claimed that several hundred additional tickets were sold just before showtime, resulting in an attendance closer to 12,500. Later that Saturday night, The Monkees checked out of the hotel and headed to the airport in what Price described as near-blizzard conditions. For his part, CFUN deejay John Tanner got a kick out of the 'wild and crazy' show he had just witnessed. 'It was kind of a thrill being there.' The photo taken back in Vancouver earlier that day would be published in the April 8 copy of the C-FUNTASTIC FIFTY survey given away at Greater Vancouver record stores. Part of the photo ID read 'They said it couldn’t be done' — likely a veiled reference to doubts that The Monkees would trek north for concerts so soon into their existence.” - Richard Skelly, Facebook, April 1, 2022 [x]

[lazystar]

The Office: Romance Day | Or The Office SKZ version

Word count: ~7.2K

Tropes/AU: Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating, Office AU

Age restrictions: 18+ MDNI pls! same w Ageless blogs TY :)

CW/ Content notes: Fem!Reader, ANGST, Himbo Changbin aka LOML, Author not knowing anything about corporate work, Cursing (it’s me y’all be fr), mentions of aliens (don’t ask), mentions of s*x with aliens like 2-3 times (again don’t ask but if you must ask it’s for comedy purposes no alien s*x happening here besties). Alcohol consumption and drunken behavior. Jeongin is a lil toxic when angy, sudden kissing but all parties are okay w/ it.

Y/N = your name, Y/E/C = your eye color, Y/H/C = your hair color

Tumblr operates on a system of re blogs! Support your writers by reblogging, sharing to your friends or commenting to spread your favorite pieces to other readers! Tysm 🫶🏻

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You had never expected to become an employee at JYP Corp, let alone fresh out of university. You at an office job, in a cubicle? You would have laughed at the notion a couple years ago. But here you were, living in the big city of Seoul, at the top of the sales team at JYP. Before graduating university you had always imagined yourself as a star, or somewhere in the big leagues, but adulthood had changed you, you were happy living that basic life. That is, you were living a basic life until a certain man bumped into you one day three years ago on your way to the copier. That man was Yang Jeongin, a new member to your team who quickly became your best friend both in and out of the office. After the incident of him nearly knocking you over that day he had apologized via coffees and lunches for days and those meals had brought you two close. Conversations began with small talk, then office gossip, to now where you two could debate about if aliens would ever hypothetically be good in bed. He said no but you said yes. Resulting in the random airdrop of pictures of very disturbing fan art of alien characters and a text of “You mean to tell me you would let THAT hit? Side eye Y/N, side EYE.” It was safe to assume work had brought you together with your platonic other half.

But then even this dynamic was changed when you had caught the eye of one of the marketing team members, Changbin. He was attractive in a way that you couldn’t deny. He was sweet, charming, charismatic, funny, and honestly a great catch. But, he just wasn’t someone you saw yourself dating. However, where Changbin lacked was in his ability to accept a no when it came to dating. His ego was severely inflated, being the office crush for almost every other staff member, he just could not fathom that you didn’t see him that way. You had to take your lunches with Jeongin from the break room to cafès down the street to avoid the ever so charming male. Ranting to Jeongin about your misfortune of catching the eye of the office’s resident Gaston became a daily occurrence. At first Jeongin found it hilarious, but recently he’s begun to tell you to stop worrying about Changbin’s feelings and to focus on yourself. Jeongin had always said you were too nice for your own good and Gaston from Marketing as you two had once drunkenly dubbed Changbin truly started to make you realize this.

Everything changed though one mild December day, you had been able to spend some extra time on your work outfit and makeup before you arrived at the office. Your lips painted a festive red, which stood out against your black office dress and blazer. To put it simply you looked like a dream come true and just so alluring, like a Hollywood starlet, a vixen, the comparisons could go on for days as you seemed to collect admirers with every step. Even Jeongin couldn’t help but stare as you strolled over to your desk and let out a low whistle as you walked by. You let out a laugh setting your bag down and shook your head as he pretended to flex mimicking JYP’s resident macho man. Your laughter quickly fizzled out upon accidentally making eye contact with the marketing department’s resident heartthrob, who smiled at you and began strolling your way with a swagger and confidence that only told you he believed that upon the 83rd attempt to woo you he would finally see success.

As soon as your brain registered that Changbin was walking your way you quickly moved into Jeongin’s cubicle like a scurrying mouse. You didn’t even know why you went to his space other than to hide, even though Changbin had seen you, you two had made eye contact for heaven’s sake! Y/N what are you doing?! You weren’t even sure. What you knew was at this point you had exhausted every excuse, every gentle let down, basically every option you could think of to explain to the sweet muscular male that you were not interested in him being your office fling, rendezvous, anything more than a friend. Every option beside looking him in the eyes and explaining you were not the Belle to his Gaston, nor the Beauty to his Beast had been utilized and those last two were a bit harsh by your standards. So now you had to pull at straws for the one option you had left and it was the one you had come up with in the seconds you had before another riveting wink, smirk, “Meet me for dinner and drinks after work gorgeous?” combo came your way.

In Jeongin’s cubicle you met his raised brow and opening lips with a move that may just change your friendship as you know it, but like many great heroes in history you knew desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Don’t ask me any questions just please kiss me right now!” The panic in your whispered voice, your hand on his necktie, the pleading look in your eye’s conveyed to Jeongin your desperation in the moment. As Changbin’s footsteps approached closer and closer you pulled on Jeongin’s tie to bring his face closer to yours, he couldn’t help but smirk at your panic, his smirk was also was in response to the fact that you chose him to play your office lover, even if it was to get the office Adonis off your case.

“I have several questions, comments, and concerns but…okay.” He teasingly whispered back and cupped your cheeks, the warmth of his hands eased your rapidly firing brain synapses and his lips met yours. Your eyes naturally closed and you couldn’t fight the smile that made its way to your lips as you two shared the kiss. Your hands had almost settled on his arms when an awkward cough behind you cut off the moment between you and your best friend of two years.

“You know you really could have just said you and Jeongin were a thing, instead of giving me the run around Y/N.” Changbin grumbled. “I’m happy for the two of you though, genuinely, you make a cute couple.” His Hollywood smile shone at the two of you. His voice was bright and cheerful, but it also was loud, thus it carried across the whole sales department floor.

Soon enough the ruckus of “Wait Jeongin and Y/N are together?!” and similar statements rang over the clatter of keyboards and other office equipment. Your “relationship” became the coffee pot, water cooler, lunch room, basically entire office gossip. Floor by floor it became the hottest ticket at JYP Corp. The “Jim and Pam” of JYP, Y/N and Jeongin.

Two nights later over some wine and shitty reality T.V. you broached the subject with Jeongin. Pausing the latest episode of whatever toxic show you two had chosen to roast that month you looked at him, “Might as well play into it so why don’t we just be one another’s fake office date until it blows over?” your shrug and blunt tone baffled Jeongin ever so slightly. You didn’t seem to care one way or the other but it seemed like the logical solution to being the subjects of office drama.

“You’re fucking crazy Y/N, you know that? But fuck it, let’s do this.” He somehow had conjured up some legal pads and pens like a wizard, he scooted over so he sat closer to you as he drew up the “Jim and Pam Rules” which he had dubbed the guidelines to your forays into acting. The rules of fake dating in the corporate rule.

Rule Number 1. No stupid ass pet names

“Waitttttt. This means I can’t call you my pookie bear?” you pouted playfully.

“Y/N call me that and I’m exposing your alien fetish.” He deadpanned.

“IT’S NOT A FETISH I JUST THINK ALIENS WOULD HYPOTHETICALLY FUCK LIKE GODS!” A swift and perfectly aimed pillow to the head shut you up from your impending one-woman-debate regarding alien prowess in bed.

Rule Number 2. No catching feelings.

“Jeongin this isn’t some slow burn fanfiction or teen romance novel. You’ve seen me puke and cry simultaneously because that one ex boyfriend I had said I had weird eyebrows two years ago.”

“So this should be easy for me to follow.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?! Nevermind I don’t wanna know…I should have asked Felix from the Social Media team to pretend to date me instead. At least he would have been nice to me.”

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW! WORST FAKE GIRLFRIEND EVER ALREADY”

“RIGHT BACK AT YOU MEANIE”

Rule Number 3. We “break up” before the company New Year’s Party.

This way you two don’t risk getting into any cheating rumors if you somehow get drunk and find someone else attractive.

The two of you didn’t need to debate or bicker over this rule, it was logical, you wanted to subdue drama, not create more. So putting an end date on a fake relationship made sense.

Rule 4. Nobody can know it’s fake.

Self explanatory.

You didn’t create rules about cuddling, holding hands, kissing, or other forms of physical affection, because those had become staples in your friendship. Plus couples are affectionate, you need this to look real.

With rules in place everything seemed like it would go perfectly, nothing to lose, peace at work to gain. Like you had said this wasn’t a drama or like that. So you both set off on Operation Jim and Pam not knowing how truly drama-esque things would become.

A few days had passed and to your relief Changbin had been leaving you alone, as were any of the other office flirts and nosy colleagues you seemed to attract. This was more than likely due to how the office gossip began to report on your relationship with Jeongin. The talk of the office was now always about his morning routine that as your romance became public, revolved around you. Every morning you would find Jeongin waiting for you with your favorite coffee and pastry in his hands. He would escort you to your cubicle, pull out your chair, hang your coat up, and make sure you had what you needed. Before he would begin his work he would leave a sweet note on your desk stating how you were amazing at your job and to have a great day. At the end of the day he would wait for you to carry your purse, give you a sweet kiss on the cheek, and walk you home. He was the boyfriend drama script writers dreamed of. But you knew it was an act, but forgetting sometimes didn’t hurt, you were allowed to delude yourself that everything was real for a few moments a day. It was only fair that you permitted yourself that speck of happiness.

Outside of work he would be your best friend who would laugh with you about your odd obsession with aliens, who would rewatch Twilight, the Office, and other early 2010s media with you. This brought you to right now, the next meeting of the Jim and Pam Operation. You two had been invited to drinks with your coworkers the following weekend to celebrate surpassing your quotas last month and seeing a rise in profit margins over the past few weeks. The two of you had easily been able to use the quotas as an excuse to avoid answering relationship questions but now you would be unable to make excuses whilst surrounded by everyone who was a part of making these victories happen.

“How we met will be easy, everyone knows we met at the office. Hyunjin saw us bump into one another. He told me the other week if he had known you and I would have ended up dating he would have tried to play cupid so he could brag about it.” He noted sipping his glass of wine as the television flashed the iconic blue hues of the first installment of the Twilight series. “Pfft who really thought this movie was going to be so iconic? The plot though is atrocious. Think about it, Bella should’ve picked them both. Polyamory exists and it would have saved us so much bad writing. I stand by my idea that they honestly should have just dated each other. Bella gets two hot boyfriends, Jacob wouldn’t have been attracted to Refrigerator or whatever the hellspawn’s name was. So no creepy subplot to worry about. All would have been right in the world. ” You snorted at his monologue of how he would have made the Twilight universe sane with the introduction of polyamorous relationships and pelted him with a piece of popcorn. It hit him square in the cheek and you couldn’t help but laugh harder at his whiny pout as he rubbed where the kernel hit him.

“Focus Innie we need a solid story so we don’t get the office detective squad on our cases about how we aren’t actually dating. So we met at work, who confessed first, when did they confess, how, you know the details every grandma asks?” You count on your hands as he nods along. Neither of you had thought this part out before now.

“Okay let’s say I confess while we were having one of our lunches,you looked so beautiful in the sun at the café. Your eyes sparkled [Y/E/C] your hair looked so gorgeous and like a [Y/H/C] halp in the light. I was mesmerized and I just couldn’t stop myself and I confessed how I always found you beautiful and adored your personality as we got closer as friends. You returned my feelings, we hugged and kissed and the world stopped for a moment. Bam! Now here we are madly in love making everyone jealous of how perfect we are.” He smiled and you couldn’t help but blush and look away for a moment. You had this strange feeling in your chest and you couldn’t understand why his explanation made your heart beat just that much faster. You covertly pinched yourself and brought yourself back into the moment and looked back at him.

“U-hum yeah that-that’s perfect. When should we say you confessed, like how long had we been dating?” You stuttered through the question internally cursing yourself for being so affected by his words.This was all an act, this wasn’t real, don’t act like it’s real. You kept mentally repeating those phases like a prayer to the universe above. Until a snap, snap in front of our face brought you back to the present.

“Y/N are you okay? You spaced out for a moment”.” You nodded, not trusting your voice for fear it would crack and so would your ability to hold back on your newfound crush. He smiled and continued. “I said we should say 2 months ago, we loved the café during the fall so that makes sense and the time frame would be logical for keeping things low key until now.” You agreed, the conversation was over as was the film. The two of you cleaned up your mess and he left hugging you good night. You felt this odd weight in your chest. You didn’t know why, everything you and Jeongin are doing is pretend, so why does it feel so real sometimes?

Drinks were flowing as the celebration at Bar Levanter began to get rowdier. You had been glued to Jeongin’s side the entire night, his hand resting on your lower back, your arms wrapped around his bicep. You reminded yourself several times to begin asking him when he took up weightlifting as his muscles felt firm under your grip. You two easily bounced your story of your whirlwind romance from coworker to coworker. Until Changin swaggered up to the two of you. Bang Chan was trailing behind him shaking his head and pinching his nose bridge in frustration. Changbin and Bang Chan were best friends and the whole office knew it, however unlike Gaston’s sidekick LeFou in the movies, Chan didn’t go along happily with all of the antics Changbin would get into.

“Well well well if it isn’t the happy couple everyone’s been talking about! I didn’t get to ask you two how this,” he gestured towards your embrace with Jeongin, “happened. So tell me everything. I love romance stories and to be honest your relationship is adorable.” You and Jeongin went the extra mile cutting off one another’s sentences and giggling when you said the same things at the same time. To an outsider it truly did look like you both were infatuated with one another. It seemed to solidify yo Changbin that you were not interested in him nor would you be for a long time. You sipped a couple more cocktails, growing tired from the alcohol and socialization you found yourself curled up closer to Jeongin on the long bench of the booth you were sitting in. The two of you looked quite intimate, your chest was pressed against his left arm. Your right hand was playing with his hair at the base of his neck, the other playing with his fingers lazily. A soft yawn escaped your lips which you had taken your right hand from his hair to cover. He looked down at you, an endearing look on his face as your eyes met his, a grin spread across both your faces and giggles erupted between the two of you. The night was winding down and coworkers were pouring out the doors saying their goodbyes.

Jeongin kissed your forehead and tried to get you on your feet. He stood next to the booth encouraging you to get up so he could walk you home, he grew a tad frustrated as he spent minute after minute tugging on your hand. His frustrations faded fast as he began chuckling at how your tipsy state reduced the put together woman he knew as his best friend to a woman with the same level of pouty as a toddler. He’s seen you drunk on more than one occasion and he knew alcohol took your walls down and made you lose your sense of maturity, and your sense of reason when it came to doing a non preferred task. Jeongin sighed shaking his head, then tilting it he silently beckoned you to leave. He went so far as to raise a brow giving his “Y/N this is your last warning face.”. But you ignored it and wanting to stay in your comfy spot on the bench.

“Innieee I don’t wanna leaveee!” You stomped your heel clad foot on the hardwood, sticky floor of the bar, your arms were crossed with an exaggerated pout on your lips. You repeated the motions a few more times, shaking your head in protest.. Before you could escalate to a drunk toddler tantrum, Jeongin tsked at your behavior and cut you off.

“Darling it’s late, it’s almost midnight, I need to get your drunk cute little butt home before you do anything stupid, and so I know you make it home safe baby.” He chastised you. A giggle rang from your lips at his words, his choice to mention your ass of all things was incredibly surprising.

“Wait YOU just said my BUTT is cute?! You never say stuff like that to me, Innie!” You bowled over cackling like it was the funniest thing you ever heard. Jeongin sighed, rubbed his temples, and proceeded to scoop you up bridal style in his arms. He tightened his grip on your legs and torso as you briefly thrashed about. He hated playing babysitter but for you he would do it all, plus he got to make fun of your antics whilst you complained about your hangover.

“PUT ME DOWN! HEY!” Jeongin shook his head and carried you out of the bar. Your exclamations of protest and questions of what Jeongin meant by you having a “cute butt” fading away as you two left the bar.

Changbin had watched the scene and your response to Jeongin made him question the whole relationship you apparently had with Jeongin. He looked over to Chan.

“If you had been dating someone for say two almost three months you’d probably accept that they’d compliment your body right?” He asked, taking a swig of his beer.

“Yeah? Why?” The Aussie member of marketing responded.

“Y/N seemed almost shocked Jeongin ‘said she had a cute butt’. Now don’t get me wrong she’s adorable, you know how big my crush was on her for months.” Changbin sighed thinking briefly about if he had made a better move before Jeongin, he would have been the one you looked at with stars in your eyes and he would have been the one to carry you home tonight.

“I mean it’s their relationship but that is a little weird if you ask me. It did seem kind of sudden that they amped up the romance factor after you saw them kissing, and the kiss kind of came around when you tried to rev up your terrible ways of asking her out.” Chan pointed out.

“That’s the last time I take dating advice from Seungmin and Han. Yikes. But you’re right something seems a little fishy. I don’t want to start picking it apart though. It’s not our place to do that.” As Changbin said, the little devil on his shoulder began to speak right in his ear. Well whose place is it but yours, this could be your chance to get in between them.

Nothing between you and Jeongin had changed after that night. You two still had your movie nights, karaoke, lunches, and your other activities. While smiling with him on the outside, on the inside your heart was slowly breaking, time was flying and the party was now only two weeks away. The past few weeks had made you notice more of the features in your best friend that you overlooked previously. How his dimples grew deeper as he grinned, the way his eyes would smile with him, the way his hair fell in soft waves, the smell of his musky yet floral cologne, the way he’ll subtly smell the perfume you wear by nuzzling into the crook of your neck during hugs. Most of all you noticed how he made you feel like home. You had broken the most sacred rule among the ones you and Jeongin drafted. Rule number 2, you had caught feelings. You knew you had to end things fast, you couldn’t risk dragging your heart through this any longer. The next day you had told Jeongin to meet you outside for lunch instead of walking with you from your desk like usual. He didn’t say anything but the quirk of his brow before the thumbs up he gave in response told you he knew something wasn’t right.

You urged him over to the side instead of heading to your usual café right away, this made his suspicions grow even more and the classic eyebrow quirk and questioning gaze you had grown infatuated with almost made you decide to go back on your plan but you stood firm. You knew for the sake of the ruse you had to end things publicly with some coworkers in earshot so you chose the front of the building on the benches.

“Jeongin, we should break up. This needs to end.” You said as soon as both reached the cold gray concrete benches that resided just outside the behemoth office building. His eyes widened in horror, his hands slightly shook, he gaped at you, he had several questions milling around his mind. He had forgotten the inevitable break up, having fallen into a happy routine by your side. You knew you had to rip the bandaid off no time like the present to do so. He sat down, body shaking with emotion and he looked to you, your calm expression making him wonder what you felt to lead to this choice. Was this the end of your friendship?

“What do you mean? We’ve been so good together, this has been working so well? Why?! Give me a reason, something! You can’t just drop this on me like it’s okay!” His voice was quiet and cracking from the turmoil that fueled him with every syllable. He looked everywhere but at your face as he spoke, you were grateful he didn’t look at you. If he did you would have probably taken your words back and apologized whilst covering his face with lipstick coated kisses. You had to remain firm, you were hurting yourself with this plan, you had gotten so caught up in the act of lying you had forgotten to be true to yourself and now two people were hurt. You were breaking your own heart, you didn’t know however, how badly you had destroyed his.

“It’s time Jeongin, you and I both know what I mean. I adore you but it’s time to call it quits, you’re my best friend and I think we should go back to being friends.” You practically whispered. “Thank you for everything you have done for me, you will always be my best friend, never forget that.I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you beforehand. I couldn’t think of how to approach this, please understand this is for the best.” You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft squeeze before bundling your coat up tighter and walking through the cold late December snow. The white surrounding you glistened as the tears fell down your face. With every step the cracks in your heart deepened, every sniffle burned from the harsh winter air. It was like Mother Nature was punishing you for breaking your own heart. Your tears froze to your cheeks like icicles of heartache. The air in your lungs burned with every breath. Your walk home took much longer than usual, you had to stop and sit on snow coated benches to avoid running into others from how blurry the tears had made your vision. You were a wreck, shaking and sobbing, gathering looks from strangers. You couldn’t tell any of your friends the real reason you were so torn apart about this “breakup” without breaking a rule. You were in limbo grieving your romance that never was on your couch, alone. Absolutely heartbroken and alone.

Meanwhile on the bench Jeongin was still sitting, he shivered with every breath and his head was clutched in his hands. His teeth chattered from the cold wind whipping around him as his own tears froze to his skin. His chest felt empty, his heart cracked with each shaky breath he took in. His friend Hyunjin found him outside in his office coat shivering from the tears combined with the cold December air. Hyunjin consoled him for what felt like hours, holding Jeongin to his chest and rocking him like a child as the younger male sobbed.

After calming down Hyunjin escorted Jeongin to the sales team manager to discuss transferring teams. After discussing the matter the sales team manager Lee Minho knew for team morale and for two of the best employees at JYP it’d be best to keep you two apart in the office while you both healed. Minho emailed you too telling you he had some extra PTO in the budget and due to your diligence you had earned a few days off. You knew he likely saw everything as your breaks overlapped but accepted his show of sympathy as it granted you time to cry in peace.

Your long weekend ended the following Wednesday. You now had only seven days until the party and your heart was still smashed like a piece of pottery on the floor. Your ticket had long since been paid for as was the show stopping dress you had bought for the black tie affair. Every time you looked at that dress hanging in your closet encased in its garment bag you broke down. Jeongin went with you to find your party dress, the dress code had just gone out that day.

•Just after you two began fake dating•

“Black Tie? What does that mean, like we are all expected to be dressing like we are Will Smith in ‘Men in Black’?” Jeongin asks you as you both look at your phones reading the email. You point out the bottom where dress code guidelines are given and he gives a dramatic exclaim of, “Oooooohhh I get it now!” That same day you both go around Gangnam looking for gala appropriate clothing, thankfully your bosses had given company wide raises which allowed even menial employees like the two of you the luxury to afford clothing in the most expensive shopping district in Seoul. Jeongin had chosen his suit already and was waiting on you to try your final dress before you would resort to begging a friend for a gala gown of theirs. When you had stepped out in the dress you had chosen as your final pick Jeongin immediately faked a dramatic swoon and began to act as if he was worshiping you. You laughed slightly at his exaggerated reaction to the dress, he ended his little performance and sat back down in his seat to watch your own reaction to the dress.

You stood on the small podium in the shop and turned in a small circle showing off the dress’ ability to accentuate your curves and the right aspects of your body. The dress was a long slightly fitted gown with bishop sleeves, buttons down the bodice that perfectly matched the shade of the fabric, giving the gown a subtle classic touch. The deep v neckline accented your chest in a classy way that didn’t draw too much attention. The crimson color of the fabric enhanced every ounce of your beauty, looking in the mirror you didn’t see yourself the way you usually did. In that mirror wasn’t “Y/N the young woman working in a corporate job who was content with living a mundane life.” No, before you in your reflection was “Y/N, the young woman who had made early adult life her bitch” You felt like a queen, an ethereal goddess, a gorgeous, and powerful woman. You felt like every woman you had looked up to as you stared at your reflection.

You bought that red dress, but you didn’t buy the confidence it gave you. You couldn’t transfer the way you felt on that podium to your mental bank account to use as needed.

You didn’t know it at the time, but that confidence came from your hype man Jeongin’s support, and you couldn’t buy that either. you went home with a gorgeous gown and an air of elation around you.

•End Flashback•

The office felt lonely. You missed your friend, you missed your notes and coffees, you missed Jeongin being Jeongin. When you had come in you were quickly informed that Jeongin had transferred over to the international sales team and was the talk of their section of the buildingHe was a valuable new asset but he was apparently very quiet and avoidant of conversation. With his absence and the rumors already circulating about the breakup, Changbin had already swung back into action. He walked over to you as you were at the coffee machine preparing a cup to get you through the work you missed. Upon seeing him you began to abandon your Holy Grail of caffeine and walk toward your desk. He caught your wrist and gave you a pleading look.

“Hey Y/N, sorry about what I heard about you and Jeongin. Wait! Don’t leave just yet! Please! I have a little more I NEED to say. I’m sorry for not initially respecting you and your boundaries, I got some stupid advice and I uh have learned now not to take advice from others when one suggestion from them doesn’t work the first time around. Oh and uh not to keep asking someone out when they said no the first time.” His hand awkwardly rubbed against the back of his neck and he looked down. THE Changbin was nervous, looking like the human embodiment of the sweat drop emoji? Letting his guard down around you? You placed a gentle hand on his bicep and gave him the best smile you could. you knew that he needed some comfort. You could tell that this was eating at him a lot.

“Thank you Changbin, really. You’re actually the first person to just briefly talk to me about the breakup, everyone keeps asking questions instead of just saying

‘I heard about the breakup, that sucks. I hope you both are doing okay. let me know what I can do to help.’’ So thank you for just talking about something else even if it’s still dating related.” You mirthfully laugh and give his arm a soft squeeze and smiled kindly at him again. “You know I think we got off on the wrong foot Seo Changbin, friends?”

“Friends.” With grins on both of your faces you interlocked hands and shook like it was a business deal.

Your new friendship with Changbin was nothing like your friendship with Jeongin. Changbin would drag you to his workouts to teach you new techniques to add to your own very mild workout routine. He would be your cooking guinea pig. He would be the more wild person to get you out of your shell. But he wasn’t Jeongin, he wasn’t someone who knew you like the back of his hand, wasn’t as in sync with you, he was different. But leading up to the party, different was good, different was what you needed. Different wasn’t what caused your pain.

Jeongin heard about your friendship with Changbin and was seething. His mind raced with so many emotions and questions. Had you replaced him? Had he been so naive? Did he mean nothing to you? Was this all just a game? Had you ended both the ‘relationship’ and your friendship without really explaining to him? Was any of it real to you? The relationship with you was real from the moment he was able to kiss you better than the panicked one the day this fiasco began. To Jeongin it was real each time he would play with your hands and envelop your fingers in his. It was real the first moment he smelled the way your scented shampoo and perfume lived in harmony whilst you hugged. He was infatuated with everything about you, he wrote that rule whilst breaking it, he had loved you from the moment he agreed to kissing you. Now here you were playfully elbowing the man you wanted Jeongin to help you push away. Was this all a joke? Did you use him to get Changbin to change his strategy? He had no clue what to think or feel. All he knew was he was upset and he needed the truth.

The night of the party came and you and Changbin walked into the beautiful venue arm in arm. The company booked a glorious ballroom in a high rise building in Gangnam, with beautiful chandeliers and a balcony overlooking the city. The windows have a perfect view of what would be the midnight fireworks. The setting was glorious, the food was spread through the room so guests could mingle, and of course the alcohol was bottomless. A recipe for either a magical night, or a tragic night, you as the chef had to decide.

You and Changbin made your way to the balcony and he wrapped his suit jacket around you and you leaned your head on his shoulder. For a while you sat in silence watching the bustling city below you. The sounds of honking cars, drunken cheers, and music lulled you into a sense of melancholic peace.

“Y/N, so never told you but I figured out you and Jeongin weren’t actually dating.” He muttered quietly so no one else would hear him, unfortunately you were not so tactful. The gulp of champagne you had just taken was still in your mouth, however it quickly flew out of your mouth and onto the immaculate marble floor. No one thankfully saw your spit take. Trying to regain composure, you dabbed your mouth clean with a napkin and gave your friend a shocked glare.

“Wait, what, how, what, again huh?!” You harshly sputtered in confusion and slight panic. You were careful to keep your voice hushed even though you wanted to squawk like a panicked bird at this revelation.

“It was the bar night, you drunkenly questioned a compliment from Jeongin and acted like he never complimented you or your physical features and Chan and I found it weird and basically we ended up kinda analyzing how you two interacted. It almost seemed like you were faking a relationship, but I can see now your feelings for him were so real. You really loved him didn’t you?” Changbin opened his arms and you quickly found purchase gripping his shirt and nodding, you focused on holding the tears in as to preserve your makeup and his shirt. Changbin softly rubbed your back and whispered soft affirmations to you to help ease the pain. After seeing how hurt your breakup, if you could realistically call it that made you feel he knew he couldn’t have you, and he was more than okay with just seeing you happy, even if you had found that happiness in another man’s arms. He had mentally moved on from you being the object of his affection and already saw you as a good friend. His affections for you, now platonic felt much better. You gave Changbin a small smile, it didn’t quite reach your eyes. He gave you a knowing one back and brushed off your whispered words of gratitude.

The heartfelt interaction between you two was cut short by an angry Jeongin storming over. “Changbin, if you could excuse us for a few moments I need to steal Y/N for a few minutes to talk.”

“I- Y/N are you okay with this?” Changbin’s apprehension seemed to make the tension among the three of you grow like a bamboo stalk, sharply and quickly. You knew Jeongin and you needed to talk, you just wish it wasn’t right here and right now.

“Binnie I can do this, go have fun. We can talk later. I promise I’ll be okay.” You whisper and hand him back his coat. You quickly followed Jeongin down a corridor far enough from the gala to have a private talk.

“So I see you found a new best friend, or is Binnie your new boyfriend?” Jeongin’s voice was sharp as a blade, cutting you down with each word. Hurt and shock must’ve flashed in your eyes because before you knew it he had stepped back to add more distance between you two. He backed up against a wall trying to not make eye contact with you. “I’m hurt Y/N, fucking broken, you didn’t just fake breakup with me you ditched me for the next best thing, you fucking replaced me. For all I know I was a pawn to make him realize how you wanted to be treated, I could have been a tool to show him how desirable you were, or a tool to make yourself look better to others?! YOU GAVE ME NO REASON! Nothing! No communication either. You never once took a moment to check in on me, not a single time were you asking about my department change, it was like the next shiny thing came and I was forgotten in the mud like a toy, Y/N. Were you too absorbed in yourself to notice I was dying out there?” Your knees gave out as you slumped to the floor and sobs wracked your body. you had selfishly tried to guard your heart, and in the process you broke his and your own if you had been honest and told him your feelings, this wouldn’t have happened and you knew that.

“I don’t even know what to say to explain to you how undeniably sorry I am for what I did. I didn’t want our fake relationship to ruin our very real friendship and I guess it kind of did.” Your words cut Jeongin as did your tone of hurt and reluctant acceptance. You reminded him of how he never had gotten to really call you his, and him raising his voice in hurt may have made things worse. With nothing to lose he continued laying it all out to you.

“I guess you’re right. Well at least you’re happier now with him huh?” He sneered looking down at your shaking form. Your red dress was pitched up as you clutched your knees to your chest. All he could compare you to in his mind was the saddest gumdrop he had ever seen, and he just wanted to take it all back and hold you and say everything was fine. But it wasn’t fine and he was too far gone to stop.

“Why are you so upset I worked it out with Changbin and we’re friends now? Why is that such an issue to you? Communication is a two way street Jeongin and you never once reached out to me either. But that I guess is whatever, what isn’t is you being so mad I made a friend when I was also hurting. So again… Why. Do. You. Care?” By the end of your rant your finger was poking his chest on each of those four words. Your eyes boring into his and your glare matching his. The next thing you knew two hands were clutching your face and your back was pressed against the wall where he was previously standing. You both exchanged a heated kiss, teeth clashing together in an uncoordinated embrace, the kiss went from messy to passionate as you both found rhythm. Hands wandered briefly, panting breaths were exchanged. Saliva transferred from one mouth to the other as his tongue began to find its home in your mouth. It was a crescendo of emotions and need, the days of pining, embarrassment, and turmoil being left behind in exchange for desire, adoration, and pure magic. Your fingers quickly found his hair and his stayed on your cheeks gripping onto your skin like if he wasn’t holding you down you would slip through his fingers. He put every emotion he had into the kiss. Both of you felt hot salty tears run from your eyes as you parted to take deep breaths. Before Jeongin let his desire to kiss you again take hold of him, he knew he had to explain himself, he wish he could throw all of his mistakes into an abyss, but he knew he had to tell you the truth.

“Because I am so undeniably in love with you. I realized right after our plan was underway. I didn’t know how to tell you. I was instantly drawn to you, I truly didn’t know it was possible to meet a piece of heaven until I met you. That’s why I’m mad, because I could lose you, and losing you to him would break me beyond repair.” His voice cracked and cut in and out due to how hard he was fighting more tears.

“Jeongin look at me. Baby, look. at. me.” You tilted his chin with your fingers and looked directly into his watery eyes. “I ran away because I was scared, falling in love with your best friend is terrifying, the day I ended the fake dating was just after I realized how much I loved you. The day we got this dress, I realized I only wanted your opinion on my event wear because you made me feel beautiful. I fucking love you Yang Jeongin and that is terrifying to me.” At your confession, he pulled you into a warm embrace and nuzzled his head to your neck and inhaled the comforting scent of your perfume while you listened to his heartbeat as it settled. As you both hugged and whispered sweet words affirming your feelings for one another you heard a some exclamations coming from behind Jeongin. You had an instinct to look over his shoulder and there were Chan and Changbin exchanging cash with some other coworkers who had all bet on your relationship actually coming into fruition. As you smiled at the sight, you made eye contact with a beaming Changbin who held a big double thumbs up your way, you giggled and shook your head and looked up at your boyfriend, who was now very real. He smiled down at you and shared in your giggles of pure joy. The party began to grow into a full roar as midnight grew closer.

“5….4….3….2….1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

As one chapter of life closed and another opened, you shared your first very real kiss, of your now very real relationship. No rules, no faking, no bad pickup lines, and to Jeongin’s chagrin; a beefy new friend to help you get strong enough to carry Jeongin out of the bar when he’s too drunk. Who would have thought a less than stellar acting performance, coupled with some jealousy and a himbo sidekick was what was needed for JYP’s resident versions of Pam and Jim to get together after all.

The End

Tag List:

@veryjeongintxtkid @thisisnotjacinta @shycreationdreamland

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©️ LazyStar

Disclaimer.

If you made it this far make sure to like the fic and show it love with a lil reblog ;*

Please do not share my work on any other platform without my express written permission. Please do not translate my work and repost it to another website. Do not place ANY of my work into Chat GPT or similar AI programs.

This is a work of fiction any real people mentioned (Stray Kids) are characters in this piece. This is not to be used for any real comparisons or depictions of the real people mentioned:)

No one sue me pls i am poor.

[snailmusic]

@solariscress and i have created something beautiful

the ultimate ken polycule graph

featuring 100 kens, compiled by solariscress

kenlist under the cut

Original Ken (1961)

Bendable Legs Ken (1965)

Talking Ken (1969)

New Good Lookin’ Ken (1970)

Live Action Ken (1971)

Sunset Malibu Ken (1971)

Walk Lively Ken (1972)

Busy Ken (1972)

Mod Hair Ken (1973)

Sun Valley Ken (1974)

Gold Medal Skier Ken (1975)

Free Moving Ken (1975)

Now Look Ken (1976)

Superstar Ken (1977)

Hawaiian Ken (1978)

Sun Lovin Malibu Ken (1979)

Western Ken (1980)

Fashion Jeans Ken (1981)

Sunsational Malibu Ken (1982)

Sun Gold Malibu Ken (1983)

Hawaiian Ken (1983)

Dream Date Ken (1984)

Day to Night Ken (1984)

Dreamglow Ken (1985)

Tropical Ken (1985)

Hot Rockin’ Fun Ken (1986)

Perfume Giving Ken (1987)

Island Fun Ken (1987)

Jewel Secrets Ken (1987)

My First Ken (1988)

Ice Capades Ken (1989)

Wedding Day Ken (1990)

Rollerblade Ken (1991)

Totally Hair Ken (1992)

Earring Magic Ken (1992)

Hollywood Hair Ken (1992)

Secret Hearts Ken (1992)

Locket Surprise Ken (1993)

Vintage Camp Ken (1993)

Butterfly Princess Ken (1994)

Weight Liftin’ Fun Ken (1995)

Sparkle Beach Ken (1995)

Splash n’ Color (1996)

Pearl Beach Ken (1997)

Totally Cool Ken (1997)

Dr. Ken (1998)

Florida Vacation (1988)

Shave n’ Style Ken (1999)

Vintage Florida Ken (1999)

Harley Davidson Ken (1999)

Surf City Ken (2000)

Prince Eric Ken (2001)

Magic Jewel Ken (2001)

Prince Stefen Ken (2001)

Rio de Janeiro Ken (2002)

Ken Surf Boy (2002)

Skate Date Ken (2002)

Route 66 University Ken (2003)

Prince Daniel Ken (2003)

Cali Girl Ken (2003)

King Dominick Ken (2004)

Superman Returns Ken (2005)

Beach Fun Ken Rooted Hair (2005)

Beach Glam Ken (2006)

Dream Groom Ken (2006)

Prince Antonio Ken (2007)

Diamond Castle Twin Musician Ken (2008)

Camping Family Ken (2009)

A Fashion Fairytale Ken (2009)

Sugar Daddy Palm Beach Ken (2010)

She Said Yes Ken (2010)

Toy Story Ken (2010)

Fairy Secret Ken (2011)

Dreamhouse Ken (2012)

Princess and Popstar Ken (2012)

Fairy Tale Wedding Ken (2012)

Texas ATM Ken (2012)

On the Prowl Ken (2013)

Barbie in the Pink Shoes Ken (2013)

Spy Squad Inventor Ken (2015)

Ken Fashionista #13 (2016)

Moschino Ken (2016)

Super Stripes Ken (2017)

Mermaid Man Ken Dreamtopia (2018) 

Ken Fashionista #115 (2019)

60th Anniversary Ken (2020)

Adventure Prince Ken (2020)

Malibu Blond Ken (2020)

Ken Fashionista #183 (2021)

Signature Looks Ken #9 (2021)

Dia de Muertos Ken (2022)

Ryan Gosling Ken (2023)

Ncuti Gatwa Ken (2023)

Simu Liu Ken (2023)

Kinsley Ben-Adir Ken (2023)

Ramzan Miah Ken (2023)

Scott Evans Ken (2023)

John Cena Ken (2023)

Christ Taylor Ken (2023)

David Munmei Ken (2023)

this is definitely canon