#I think it was after covid but before I stopped going to dance

[covetyou]

any other week

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Teen (18+ only blog!) warnings: sickfic. no smut or nudity (shocking, I know). sickness (no vomitting) and associated gross feelings and metaphors. fluff. word count: 2.3k summary: You're sick. That much is obvious. Even if the fact is you can't be sick. Not now. Not this week. Not when the only one around to look after you is the very person who pays you to look after him - Mr. Dieter Bravo.

A/N: if you hadn't heard, I have (had? I still feel shit but I'm technically negative and going to see Taylor Swift tomorrow, wish me luck lol) covid, and it's kicked my ass, so I wrote the least appropriate man in the universe looking after someone. enjoy 💛

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"D-!"

You barely get out the first syllable of his name before you're hacking a cough, pressing your palms to your knees as you splutter, bent over in a silent prayer to whatever virus has your esophagus in a chokehold, willing it to please let go.

It's feeling benevolent today, you think, when the clenching grip around your throat gives way a moment later, letting you take in a few blissfully sharp, painful gasps of air again.

Not that the cough has really stopped. That's been a niggling tickle for days now, growing and growing into something bigger as your body has gradually lost the fight with whatever asshole thing has set up shop inside your sinuses. Still, it's eased off enough now for you to raise yourself on wobbly legs, chest heaving and your head too fuzzy to really take in the foyer of Dieter's home, or the man himself as he tentatively creeps down the stairs.

It was going to be a bitch of a week. The last week before Dieter head's off to shoot always was. Full of last minute meetings and prep, and Dieter being all too much of an asshole for you to want to deal with, and you being entirely too much of a cunt to him in return. The last thing you needed was to be sick.

Whatever plague had befallen you didn't seem to give a shit you were assistant to the Dieter Bravo, or that sorry, we're busy this week, can I pencil you in for September? You'd just have to deal, and suck it up, and hope to the end of the earth that you could stay far enough away from Dieter than you didn't get him sick too.

"You look like shit."

You almost jump out of your skin, a muffled voice echoing down at you from the top of the stairs as your eyes strain to focus and find the source of the voice. It sure sounds like Dieter, but you can't tell if it's the cotton wool stuffed inside your own head, or some weird voice he's putting on in preparation for his next role that's making him sound entirely off.

He's there, you're sure of it, your heart pounding in your chest as you wheeze and stare up at a Dieter shaped blur you're certain is wearing a balklava.

You cough again before you speak, your voice a weak rasp of what it usually is, razor blades slicing up your throat as you force the words out.

"Dee? I've got your mail, and those clothes from the designer, and -"

He's coming closer, taking the steps slowly, coming in to focus then wobbling back out of it as you blink rapidly at him and heave in another pained breath.

"You're sick."

Usually you'd argue with him. You take just about any opportunity to talk back to him, just like he does with you. It's how you work so well together. Even now, your head is indignantly saying no. You are not sick. You are perfectly fine and if he could just get off your ass, that'd be wonderful.

But, you are sick. That much is obvious. Even if the fact was, you couldn't be sick. Not now. Not this week.

"- your laundry -"

"You're sick."

Any argument is lost in your throat as another cough drags itself out of you, kicking and screaming, forcing you to hinge over again just to stop the force of it all from knocking you flat on your ass. Dieter is retreating up the stairs a little as you watch stars dance across your eyes with each forceful hack of air from your lungs, and even through the pain and lack of oxygen you can sense he feels uneasy about this, about you, and for the first time you think you may have made a mistake.

You shouldn't have come here.

You should have called, or sent a text, and worked from home where you could stay in bed, keeping your germs to yourself and away from him.

When your cough finally eases off again, your head pounding now and your throat burning more than it has in days, you lift yourself up, and admit defeat.

"Okay," you wheeze. "I'll go. I'm - fuck, sorry - I'll call you later. Let me know if you need anything."

Your head spins as you turn, and Dieter thunders down a few more steps before abruptly stopping as you hobble back to the door.

"No!" he shouts down the stairs the moment your hand touches the handle.

You look back at him confused, as he stands there, still keeping his distance, but reaching for you as if force of will alone could stop you in your tracks. And, in a way, it does. You turn to him, propping yourself up on the door, watching him as he tries not to recoil from you, especially now that he can see you up close.

You'd been pallid when you left the house. Now, you felt positively gray. Though you felt cold to the touch, your insides felt like you were roasting alive. No doubt, a few steps closer as he is, he can see the sweat beading on your forehead simply from the effort of keeping yourself standing there and not sliding down the door into a heap on the floor.

"You can't fuckin' drive in this state," he says, flapping his hands at you as his mind kicks into overdrive. "You're sick. You'll crash your fuckin' car. You need rest, and soup, and drugs - the good kind - and a doctor, I should call a doctor, you need to get better, you can't be sick, I can't - because I nee - lo- no!- care - " he stops himself, his mouth flapping as he stares and gesticulates in your general direction before letting his arms flop at his sides.

"I am not getting a new assistant," he settles with, hugging his arms tight around his body.

Before you can tell him he's stuck with you as his assistant whether he likes you or not, another cough beats its way out of your chest, and you slump against the door. Dieter is on you in a second, his balaklava'd face coming into view as he holds you gently by the shoulders as you splutter.

"You - you gotta get in bed. Now."

He's panicking, you know that much. He's never so much as seen you with a hangover, let alone seen you sick. So, you let him guide you upstairs, watching you with wild eyes through the balaklava as you wheeze at the stop of the staircase.

You let him pull you down the hallway, and push you into a spare room. You barely register his hands helping you peel away sweaty layer after sweaty layer of clothing until you're being guided into a soft bed, the sheets being pulled gently over you until you sink into the plush pillows and fall alseep before he's even left the room.

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

When you wake, some minutes or some hours later, you're not sure, it's to shuffling in the corner of the room. The handle of the door clicks before it slowly swings inward - that horror movie creak only playing in your head though fitting perfectly with the scene you're watching in front of you. When the door is half open, a shaggy head pokes around the frame, before shuffling in on croc covered feet, cardigan wrapped tightly around itself and mask replacing the balaklava he'd so hastily thrown on earlier.

"Dee?" you croak from the bed, failing to sit up as the weight of the blankets holds you down.

"Stay back," comes his muffled voice from beneath the mask as he shuffles in further. He walks to a dresser kept by the wall. There's nothing in it. There's nothing in this entire room except for empty furniture and blank walls. The only time it sees any action is after some of Dieter's more frivoulous parties, when one too many people can't make it home and need a place to crash. In essence, it's the spare room to the spare rooms spare room - not the guest room, or his room, or the room he'd designated as yours some years ago, that's down the hall next to his own, but the last of three rooms that sit empty nearly year round.

Dieter tugs on the dresser, his crocs gripping to the floor as he yanks it away from the wall and pushes it with a squeak all the way across the floor toward the side of the bed you're trapped in.

"Stay there," is all he says before he leaves you again, the giant piece of furniture slotted right up against the bedside. You couldn't move even if you wanted to, and now he's all but blocked in your easiest way of escape. You weren't going anywhere.

A moment later he's shuffling back in, a tray in his hands and what you think is an umbrella under his arm. He's staring carefully down at the tray - balance and dexterity having never been his strong suit - before placing it gently onto the dresser.

"Tea," he grunts, pointing to the tray, "that lemon ginger shit. Some other stuff too."

It's at the end of the dresser, beyond your feet, and not really of any use to you right now, but the sentiment is nice, especially coming from Dieter.

"Thanks, Dee."

He grunts again, shrugging his cardigan covered shoulders before taking the umbrella from under his arm and gently pushing the tray along the top of the dresser until it's within arms reach of you. When he's done, he nods to himself before backing out of the room, and closing the door. You hear the faint sounds of jesus fucking christ being muttered from the other side of the door as he walks away, no doubt to have a shower and rid himself of as many of your germs as he can before he goes about practicing lines and keeping himself busy.

That lemon ginger shit is smelling divine as you lay there, slowly peeling your arms out from the sweaty confines of the sheets. The soothing heat of it is just what you need - if you hadn't forced the stuff on him so many times in the past, you'd be stunned that he even thought of it himself.

Sitting up, an ache in your hips like no other, you groan and reach for the tea, taking a small burning mouthful, and swallowing it down with a gasp before taking another, then another, then another. The burn soothes the raw feeling in your throat, and when you can finally swallow a little more freely, if only for a second, you take a chance to look at the tray Dieter left with you.

Some other stuff, is an understatement.

There's bottled water, snacks undoubtedly taken directly from the stash you keep in his kitchen, plus a few of his own that he knows you steal when he's not looking. Then, there's what can only be described as a miniature pharmacy. Tissues, nasal sprays, throat lozenges, tylenol, cough syrup, and little packets of Liquid IV lined up on the tray for you to take your pick of.

It's exactly the kind of thing you've done for him countless times before when he's been holed up in bed, too sick or too hungover to deal with the world. Now, here he was doing it for you just as dutifuly as you ever had for him. He'd even gone as far to get dressed and leave the house, driving to a pharmacy just for you. You knew for a fact he didn't keep half of this stuff in the house, and neither did you.

Before you know it, your throat is constricting and your lip is wobbling, but another burst of pain rips its way through your chest as you cough again, and again, and again. Your eyes water, the tears forgotten, until the cough subsides. You'll cry later, when your throat hurts a little less and you have the energy. For now, you throw back some tylenol, finish your tea, and flop back down into the sheets, ready for sleep to take you once more.

Over the course of a few days, though you barely see his face again, you know he's been in to check on you by what he's left for you on the tray. A hot bowl of soup and soft bread. More tea. A bowl of yogurt and fruit when sunlight creeps through the cracks in the blinds. A stack of books. His iPad, loaded up with movies and TV shows that you're not sure were always on here, or if he downloaded them just for you. Fresh towels so you can take the most exhausting shower of your life, only to come back out to find underwear and one of Dieter's old worn movie tees waiting for you. Then there's more tea. More food.

He cares for you from a distance, day in day out, until your cough turns to a splutter, and you can breath a little deeper. And so can he.

Around the third day, when you're no longer coughing and feeling far more like yourself, but still too exhausted to do much of anything, you finally see Dieter's face again. He silently herds you into the room he calls yours, shuttering the windows as you crawl under the sheets, and curls into bed behind you.

"You smell different when you're sick," he mumbles into your neck. "Fuckin' hate it."

"Sorry," you whisper back to him in the dark. "I showered, but I -"

"No. You smell different. Sick different. Not gross different. Didn't smell like you."

Smiling into the dark, you let him snuggle into you as you drift off into the most restful sleep either of you have had in days.

tagging my Dieter beloveds: @schnarfer @missredherring @whatsnewalycat @sp00kymulderr @ozarkthedog

@ghotifishreads @rebel-held @amanitacowboy @readingiskeepingmegoing

[bonesandchalamet]

welcome to the final show - h.styles

masterlist

pairings: harry styles x reader!

warnings: fluff

a/n: in my depressed era now that tour is over ☹️

it’s over. it’s somehow a bittersweet ending that for some reason, you never saw actually coming to an end. he’s exhausted, but his heart has never been so full seeing his fans send the love right back to him night after night, and this one seems to get to him more.

family, friends, team members, band members, and even celebrity guests all approach his sweaty body first. fist bumps, high fives, and hugs are all he knows for the next couple of minutes, until the crowd of loved ones part like the sea to reveal you. a kiss would be nice, he thinks to himself. after all, it’s the second most magical thing he could experience after his final performance.

“you did such a good job, h.” you launch your body into his. the smell of his heightened body odor doesn’t bother you in this moment. you just press yourself further into him before pulling away and giving him what he wants. a kiss.

“you enjoy it?” he asks like it’s a ever question. every moment of each show was more than enjoyable, so when he sees you roll your eyes he knows. he knows you loved every second until it was over.

“go get changed.” you point in the direction of his dressing room, and it hits him. the emptiness in his gut appears once again attempting to swallow him. this was over. the performing would actually stop and he could have a break. you can already see the wheels turning in his head, he’s wondering what he’ll do with his free time. he’s never had this much of it since COVID.

“what if I want to stay in this?” he gestures to the gold fringe suit he’s wearing, the vest showing off his beautiful abs and butterfly tattoo. one of his best outfits, you thought to yourself when you saw him enter the stage.

“I won’t mind that.” you smile, cheeks hurting so badly from the whole night of doing so, but you still press on watching his eyes light up at your approval.

you know why he doesn’t want to take it off. it’ll be like admitting the best thing thats ever really happened to be over. that him hearing his fans scream when the lights drop, sing his lyrics back to him, and dance to his songs will be over. the joy he brought to millions upon millions would finally stop. for the first time, he could fly home and have no where else to be later.

“I bet he’ll sleep like a baby tonight.” Anne wraps her arms around your shoulders, a tight smile on her lips and tear stained cheeks that match yours. she’s proud of her sons accomplishments, but she knows he’s ready to go home. she knows he’s ready to sleep in your arms for hours upon hours.

you nod in agreement watching him trot off to Lloyd, his camera hung around his neck showing the band members his photography of the night.

“I got this picture of you, y/n.” Lloyd’s eyebrows wiggle in a mischievous way, harry taps his shoulder with his index finger begging to show him already.

“calm down!” Lloyd laughs, his thumb clicking through the photos until it stops and settles on, what you believe, is an image of you.

harry takes the camera in his hands, a small smile forms on his lips as he stares long and hard at the picture. it’s like if he blinks the image of your visibly tears streaming down your cheeks, bright smile, and pink boa would all go away.

“I love this picture, can you print it out for me?” harry taps the small screen, and he talks with Lloyd like you’re not there. the camera gets passed around to band members again, and your image fades with the millions of other ones.

“was it a good picture?” you ask him when he’s finally moved on from the group and back over to you.

“darling, the best picture ever. going to have it framed forever.” he presses his lips against your temple, arms wrapping around your body, and once again you’re pulled into his sweaty body.

“going to have this night framed for ever as well. it was one for the books.” you watch him nod, arms wrap tighter around you for a second, “now let’s go home, h.”

“I couldn’t have agreed more, let’s go home.”

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Elvis-mania”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

Warning: mentions of COVID-19

MASTERLIST

COVID-19 took the world by storm and what was meant to just be some months in Australia became almost a year. Austin took this to his advantage to get more into the Elvis role, I supported him with any research he needed and with his weight gain, his accent. At first it was really enjoyable, I mean, dancing and singing to Elvis’ songs in the middle of the night, watching his movies and performances, watching Austin trying to recreate them. But then it started to get more serious, he started to go method.

I wasn’t a fan of method acting, I’ve never tried it before but I did have some co-stars that did it and it was like hell on earth, I’d like to think that he was going for a Marlon Brando route but it was starting to feel like Jared Leto when he played the Joker.

“Sit still!” I laughed as he didn’t stop moving around while I placed the hair dye on his brownish hair, he wasn’t a natural dark-haired man, as a boy his hair was this beautiful blonde.

“It smells disgusting, God, how I miss your hairdresser.” He said with a chuckle, his voice was a little thicker, a bit of a southern drawl to it.

“See? and you called me ridiculous whenever I went with her. I don’t know what she uses but it smells delicious.” I had my hairdresser back in California, she did my more trickier hairstyles, like the beehive ponytail and she did dye Austin’s hair black a couple of times before.

“Or maybe we were just high from all the chemicals, who knows?” He laughed again, yeah, maybe we did not ventilate well enough right now, I moved towards the window and opened it, not remembering that my gloves were pretty much still with hair dye, I stained that whole window up. To this day I still remember how much the landlord charged us for that one. After 30 minutes, we both kneeled beside the bathtub, I started rinsing his hair.

“Baby, you gonna drown me or something!” He said to me, if the water wasn’t too cold then it was too hot, or I was too aggressive with the rinsing.

“Then so be it!” I said to him, shampooing his hair.

Afterwards I even dried it and styled it, he saw himself in the mirror again, he finally had jet black hair again after months of just having this weird combination between black and blondish hair.

“I don’t know— I feel a little silly. Like an impersonator.” He had a grimace as he moved his hair side to side.

“You look really good. I promise.” I smiled at him and then kissed his cheek. “You can do this. Now let’s watch Viva Las Vegas for the fifth time, I’m finally getting the Ann-Margret dance.”

We did our research and everything, we knew little facts about Elvis, he liked knowing about Priscilla, I loved Priscilla. Austin found out this really interesting fact about Elvis and Priscilla’s bedroom time. As we were in bed, trying to spice things up.

“Wait, baby. We oughta try something new.” He said as he pulled away and got up from bed, he rummaged through a box of cameras we had, disposable ones, vintage ones, instants. He bought out an instax camera, with its film. “So— I read that Elvis and Priscilla did this and I wanted to try it out.”

“I’m up for it.” I smiled as I took off my nightgown coverup.

We started taking Polaroids, he made me pose, I was his model for the night. He grabbed my chin tenderly and moved it to the right direction, he got on top of me taking picture after picture. We even tried dress up, him as a policeman and doctor, I was a secretary, a maid, a teacher, we tried everything in the book.

He’d get in between my legs, kissing me all over, taking Polaroids while he was at it, taking Polaroids while I was at it, going down on him.

It was magical but it did make me feel ashamed whenever I looked at my purchase history and saw all the Polaroid films I bought during this time. We spent hundred of dollars in just the films for the instax.

I had a really good time with Austin but it didn’t really last long, until he submerged himself totally on Elvis. At first it was the voice and then it was the food, then it was his behavior. I couldn’t even remember the last time he slept with me. All I heard was Elvis, Elvis, Elvis— and not in the good way. Look, I understood him and everything but it was making me go nuts, I’m a big Elvis fan but he was just going bonkers. I lost count on how many books he read or how many hour he spent looking at Elvis stuff, he barely even spent time with Lori. I wanted to die whenever he called me ‘woman’ or ‘satnin’.

There were many times when he basically shut himself out, in the bedroom or the beach, it was like he was trying to torture me nonstop. I felt so useless because I wasn’t able to help him either. Whenever I did try to help him, he’d yell at me.

“Baby, please— you need to sleep.” I knocked on the office door, he had been there all day.

“Don’t bother me, woman.” He said sternly, I, being the stubborn I was, tried to get him out of there.

“Baby— you don’t need to indulge so much in Elvis. You should really come to sleep.” I knocked on the door once again, all I heard was silence afterwards but then the door opened aggressively.

“Are ya deaf or something?! Woman, I don’t want to hear another mouth comin’ out of your damn mouth. Ya hear me?” He said very aggressively, even he was taken aback. “Baby, you gotta let me do my damn job, so go to sleep, I’ll catch up to you later.” He dismissed me with his hand.

The king sized bed felt really empty without him there, cuddling me, kissing my head or forehead, we barely even slept on the same bed so in those cases, I’d bring Lori with me and hug her all night. I woke up to every sudden movement, thinking it was Austin but it was just my imagination playing cruel tricks on me. And whenever we did have alone time in bed, I tried wearing my cutest nightgowns, I even wore perfume to bed, Miss Dior, I adored that scent and so did Austin. God, I even wore my makeup to bed!

“Hey.” I whispered while I got in bed besides him, his back leaning against the headboard as he read Train to Memphis, I started kissing his neck softly, rubbing his bicep.

“Calm down, satnin.” He said, not taking his eyes off the book. “Ya know I’m trying to pay attention to this.” He kept on reading and reading in silence until he finally spoke up. “There a thousand women who would actually care to help and listen to me while I do my damn job. You gonna sit and listen or not?”

I stopped, I laid back and stared at him, storms in my eyes. I was trying everything to keep him looking at me yet nothing worked.

“But-“

“But nothing, woman.” He said, there was silence again, he kept on reading and mumbling the words. I sat up on the bed, hugging my knees very subtly.

“I can’t stand it! It’s driving me crazy! I don’t want to hear you anymore!” I yelled out in frustration, I even closed my eyes.

“I see a mad woman.” He said on that pretentious mumble.

“No. A woman with needs that needs to be desired. You can have your Elvis books and me too.”

He looked at me and without even saying anything, she went back to reading his book, leaving me feeling humiliated.

I’ve been dying to write this part— be prepared to see our Cynthia suffer.

[carolmunson]

lgdw!eddie crumbs pls? I need him so much 🥺🥺🥺

this is not related to anything i have written for part three but let’s pretend this is something that happens before or after part three. fulfilling my own needs because i have covid. :(

“Oof, look at you,” he frowns into his phone screen, looking at your tired and washed out face looking back at him, “You look so tired. Do you have a fever?”

You shift, his view now of the ceiling while you sit up — a ragged breath ending in a cough, you reappear again, “Really low grade.”

“Is it Covid?” he asks with a wince, pen dancing down one of the quizzes he’s grading at the desk in his bedroom.

“I’m waiting for the timer to go off so I can check,” you pout, wiping the back of your hand over your sweaty forehead, “I hope it’s just the flu.”

“It’s that time of year,” he nods, eyes flicking back to the screen — he grins, “I know I said you look tired, but you’re still lookin’ so pretty.”

“Oh stop,” you croak with a laugh, your dried lips stretching tightly with a smile, “I don’t feel so pretty.”

“You are so pretty,” he winks. The familiar sound of an iPhone alarm jingles through the speaker of his phone from your phone and he watches you walk through your dim apartment, groaning at every crack of your body while you move.

“Dude my back fucking hurts,” you sigh, face filled with discomfort, “I hate this.”

“I know,” he commiserates, “I can come over tomorrow and give you some love if you want.”

You’re quiet for a moment, looking at something on your kitchen counter, “Yeah, you’re not coming over tomorrow.”

“Why?” he pouts, only to have the screen filled with the rapid test you took earlier, the test line as bright and bold as the control.

“Oh no, baby,” he coos, “Have you had it before?”

“Summer of 2022,” you grumble, slamming the test back down on counter, “I’m so pissed.”

“I know,” he nods calmly, tone of voice changing to something that’ll placate you.

“Why don’t you go to sleep or go hop in the shower and think about what groceries you want? I’ll grab some and bring them over in the morning,” he offers, tests gone ignored.

“That’s a lot to ask of you,” you say quietly, easing back into bed.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering,” his brown eyes sparkle in his desk lamp — just enough to convince you.

“Okay,” you nod back, eyes heavy with exhaustion, face contorting when you lay back down, “I’ll send you a little list.”

“Send me a big list,” he chuckles, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, handsome,” your voice falling to something raspy — exhausted.

He wants to say more, it sits on the precipice of his tongue. Nervous. Afraid. But the truth.

“I…” he starts.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[calmasyoghurt]

The joker out pride project.

Time to see some drag queens. Also on ao3.

June 20th, promt 23. Drag show/gay bar.

👩🏻‍🎤Joker out🃏

Thursday, 22.27

Jan🧮

hey i just saw that theyre hosting a drag event next friday

whos in?

Kris🎸

Who are ‘they’?

Bojan🎤

Oh sounds fuun i’m in😍👸🏼

Baby i think it’s at the gay bar since that would make most sense

Jan🧮

yeah exactly at the gay bar

doors open ten and drag starts at eleven

Kris🎸

Okay, sounds fun. Guess I’m in too. 

You

Ooooo, yeah count me in as well

Nace🐢

I’ll come too, I’ve never been to a drag show before

***

The line to the bar is longer than usual. It’s not weird that it is, tonight is the first drag event since before covid. It's the first time since covid that Jure is here, too.

He vividly remembers the last time he was here. How a man had made him uncomfortable and how Jan had helped him get away from him. He had met Bojan and Kris too. They had been terrible at hiding their relationship that night, but tonight they look like they're actually trying.

Neither of Kris' arms are wrapped around Bojan's shoulders, they're not even holding hands. It's probably for the best. They've been very clear about not wanting to come out publicly, at least not yet. Holding another guy's hand outside a gay bar might not be the best way to hide the fact that you like guys.

Somehow, the band had managed to arrive at the bar early. Nace had even driven all the way out to Vrhnika to pick Jan up so that he wouldn't be able to come late. This had resulted in the five of them entering the bar amongst the first, getting them a table not too far from the stage. It’s still a long time until the drag show begins, but Kris has brought along a deck of uno card to pass the time. The first round goes by quite calmly, but then Bojan takes a shot and for some reason it makes him better at playing. Or maybe it makes him better at cheating. Either way, he wins three rounds in a row before he’s stopped by the first drag queen is presented. 

It’s a good show. It’s a really good show. They’ve managed to get three queens to perform, and they all seem ready for a show. The first one is probably the most frequent performer at this bar, and does some incredible lip syncing. After her comes a queen that says it’s her first time performing in front of an audience, and then she gets the entire bar to dance along to ‘Time Warp’. Last out is a drag queen all the way from England, and she shows of some amazing dance moves. 

The band stays for another thirty minutes after the show is over, but when that last shot has made Bojan go from an unbeatable uno master to a sleepy, adult sized kid, it’s decided that it’s time to leave. Kris’ apartment isn’t too far away, so he leaves with an arm in a steady grip around Bojan. Nace, who hasn’t had anything to drink, offers Jure and Jan a ride home. Once in the car, Jure starts scrolling through his phone. In the front passenger seat, Jan is leaning his head against the window. He looks like he might be asleep, but he starts speaking in a low voice. 

“Nacko? Can’t I sleep at your place? Your bed is probably so warm and fluffy”. Jure looks up, and through the rear view mirror he can see Nace rolling his eyes. 

“And you have turtles. I can become their friend and then we can be slow and careless together”, Jan continues. This makes Nace huff out a little laugh. 

“Sure Jan, you can sleep at my place” Nace says as he turns the car on to Jure’s road. Jure leaves the car and is just about to close the door when he hears Jan speak again. It’s so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear it, but it must have been another question, because Nace clearly whispers ‘yeah’ as an answer. It’s not until he enters the elevator in his building that Jure can fully process it. It definitely sounded as if Jan had said “will you kiss me goodnight?”. 

[reputationbarbie]

❝i got cake and i know he want a slice.❞

read the rest of the series before this chapter or you’re getting spoilers.

A/N: we're back, barbies! i successfully survived midterms so now I can breathe!! i've been working on this all week and tomorrow i promise, i'll work on my requests. a lot of y'all have been in my comments and reposts with pitchforks because joel didn't kiss ginny yet and all i have to say is, same babes. i don't make the rules (yes i do) i just enforce them. this isn't edited so ignore any mistakes. please leave feedback in the comments ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

Chapter Summary: the sweetest baker enlists joel to help her volunteer at ellie's school.

Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), racial descriptions (tommy says black girls are his type basically), symptoms of anxiety and depression, lmk if i forgot something.

Series Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist, joel masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

“Taste this,” I demand Joel, shoving the spoon of icing towards his mouth.

Joel stops stacking the plastic plates, looking down at the utensil. “What did you say?” he asks with scrunched eyebrows.

I shake the fork impatiently. “Try,” I demand. He looks at me skeptically before leaning forward and taking a bite of the warm sugary liquid.

His mouth moves slowly as tastes. “Mmmhm, that’s good,” he compliments.

I want to put my hands up to hide the blush that’s inevitably covering my face right now. But I don’t want Joel to notice my reaction. “Thank you. I tweaked the recipe last week,” I say quickly, turning around so I’m not facing him.

“That’s why I’m here,” I hear Joel say.

Shaking my head, I pour the icing over the cakes. “No, you’re here because I didn’t want to be the only one working the booth today,” I defend myself.

“You would’ve called someone else,” Joel points out.

My shoulders rise with my eyebrows. “You’re probably right,” I conceded.

I enlisted Joel to do a booth with me instead of having two separate booths. Neither of us wanted to pull staff from the floor but still wanted to participate for Ellie’s sake. The two of us could handle it, with the help of some friends.

Joel and I mirror each other's movements in the kitchen. He makes sure the COVID-safe fall fest meals are ready and me adding something sweet into the mix. The hum of Taylor Swift plays in the background and I catch Joel slightly humming to ‘Welcome to New York.’ A snicker involuntary leaves my throat and I shove it down, hoping he didn’t pick up on it.

Once my job is done, I allow the dishes to clatter in the sink. The worst part about baking is the prep and the cleaning and I don’t have the energy for that right now. 

“Hello?” Madeline’s voice rings through the stairwell.

“Don’t shoot us,” Leonardo’s voice follows shortly after.

A scoff leaves my lips and I near the island to watch Joel skillfully move around the kitchen. Every move has a crafted purpose and I can practically see the blood pulsating through his veins. 

My breathing hitches and I shift in hopes of gaining composure. “I don’t even have a gun,” I pipe up.

Joel walks in front of me and motions behind me. We dance around for a little before he grunts in frustration and puts his hands on my waist. My eyes go wide as Joel easily lifts me onto the cold island before reaching behind me. “I do,” he murmurs, sliding the pan of bundt cakes toward his muscled torso.

His smirk has me wanting to strip my clothes off and give it to him in the nastiest way possible. Bad, ginny. He was just sick of you being in the way. “I don’t think that applies to this scenario, Joel,” I stress.

Joel moves from in between my legs and I turn my head to watch Leo strolling into the room confidently. “Hey, Miller,” he boasts.

“Hey,” I hear Joel respond next to me.

Maddie follows shortly behind him, wearing brown leather pants and high-heeled boots. She’s overdressed for a school event, but knowing her she’s probably looking for a husband. “Hi, Joel,” she purs, flashing him a smile.

My body turns to survey Joel’s reaction, but his poker face is stone-cold. “Nice to see you, Madeline,” he tries his hardest to force out through a smile.

It’s not that Joel doesn’t like Madeline, she’s just an acquired taste. Too much time around her can drive you crazy and sometimes when Joel picks Ellie up from the bakery, Madeline is sobbing her eyes out with a glass of wine in her hand. 

“Didn’t know you were working the party, man,” Leo notes once he and Madeline cross the large open floor plan into the kitchen.

“Joel’s daughter, Ellie, goes to school with Dina,” I tell Leo, motioning towards Joel.

Madeline nods, sliding into the bar stool and putting her shiny silver purse on the counter. “That makes sense.  What are you making?” she leans forward and asks Joel.

Joel rolls his shoulder forward, hunching over to plate the food. “Thanksgiving meals. Each meal comes with turkey and 3 sides. My brother Tommy’s bringing the rest,” he informs her.

Maddie's eyes light up and a smirk creeps onto her face. “I didn’t know you had a brother. Is he a chef, too?” she asks, voice laced with mischief.

Joel shrugs, not bothering to make eye contact with her. “Mostly just a pain in my ass but, yeah. He helps out at the Austin from time to time,” he grumbles.

“That's awesome! Is he cute?” Maddie asks excitedly.

“Maddie!” I hiss towards the blonde.

Joel’s phone buzzes on the counter next to us and he picks it up, turning the screen towards the group. “That would be him,” he says, shaking the device lightly.

Once Joel exits the room, I hit Maddie on the arm with the back of my palm. “What?! Not everyone has a Michelin-star chef whipping meals in their kitchen trying to get in your pants,” she frowns.

My eyes widen and I feel the sudden urge to yank my hair out. Now I know why Joel tugs on his roots. “Joel’s not– he’s not,” I stammer, pausing to collect my breath. “Joel’s not trying to get in my pants,” I sigh.

Maddie raises a brow, looking me up and down. “I beg to differ,” she counters.

Jumping down from the counter, I start to pick up where Joel left off with the meals. “He doesn’t have time to– Leo, don’t eat that,” I swat Leo’s hand, stopping him from picking up a bundt cake prematurely.

Leo winces, putting his hands up in defense before sliding into the bar stool. “So, how’s things been between you two?” he questions.

My brows furrow and I feel confusion wash over me. “What do you mean?” I ask.

“I mean, you’ve been seeing each other for what, a month. Right?” he asks.

Maddie snickers next to me and I shake my head, resuming my careful placing of the assorted dessert flavors. “No, Leo. We literally haven’t even been on a date,” I point out.

Leo twists back and forth in the spinning chairs like a child who’s bored out of his mind. “That means nothing,” he scoffs.

My head tilts and I point the spatula at Leo. “To you, you whore. To me it means something. We’re just friends,” I inform him.

Leo purses his lips and his brows furrow. “Oh, fuck off,” he nips at me.

“What?” I ask him.

Leo rolls his eyes and I want to lean forward to snatch them out of his socket. “I still don’t know how you’re blind to him flirting,” he complains.

Maybe I am reading things wrong. Maybe Joel is interested. “If he flirts with me so much, why hasn’t he asked me out on a date or kissed me?” I ask the pair confused.

My head darts back and forth between my friends. “Maybe he just wants to take things slow,” Maddie tries to explain.

Leo clears his throat and my head whips to face his. “Yup. You said yourself he has a daughter,” he shrugs.

My eyes look at the clock to check and see if we’re doing good on time. Ellie and Dina will be bursting in at any moment. They don’t need to be privy to this conversation. 

Once I have my confirmation, I refocus on the to-go containers in front of me. “Then why would he and his daughter sleep in my bed with me the other night?” I ask. 

Maddie's jaw drops and her eyes widen. “You slept in the same bed together?!” She practically shrieks.

“Yeah, I told you,” I remind her.

Maddie shakes her head in disbelief. “No, you told me they stayed the night. Not that you were cuddled up with Joel Miller,” she hisses.

I shake my head and begin pleading my case, “I wasn't cuddled up with him. Ellie had a sit–”

Joel walks in and I shut myself up, my eyes immediately finding his. “Hey y’all, I want to introduce you to my brother, Tommy,” he bellows with a smile, stepping to the side. 

A man a bit younger than Joel steps through my entryway, his hair slightly slicked back. He’s not my type, but he’s definitely Maddie’s. I stop placing the cakes in the to-go boxes, crossing the floor to meet them halfway. “Come on in. It’s nice to meet you,” I smile, putting my hand on his arm to pull him into the kitchen.

Tommy looks down at me and smiles. “Likewise. Heard a lot about you,” he confesses with warmth in his voice.

Fucking attractiveness and charm must run in the family. “Good things, I hope,” I suggest to Tommy, peering up at him.

Tommy nods, chuckling a bit. “Fantastic things, darlin’,” he assures me and I almost melt. It’s good to know that Joel and Ellie talk about me positively.

When we get to the kitchen, Maddies is already standing seemingly posing by the counter. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Madeline,” she flirts, extending her hand for him to shake.

I let go of his jacket, sliding into Maddie’s seat at the bar. “Tommy,” he shakes her hand before awkwardly turning toward me.

He raises his brow almost as if he’s asking how I know them silently. “Madeline and Leo are my friends from elementary school,” I quickly explain.

Tommy lets out an ah sound, nodding a bit before Leo clears his throat. “Nice to meet you, man,” Leo chimes.

“Likewise,” Tommy returns.

I clap my hands softly, clasping them together in front of my chest. “Now, Tommy. I hate to put you to work but can you help me carry this stuff out to the van?” I request.

Tommy smiles, pushing his hair back with his fingers. “Of course,” he agrees.

My body turns towards my best friends. “Maddie, can you and Leo grab the cookie tubs and put them in the other van?” I ask the pair.

“I can do it by myself,” Leo grumbles and I realize I’ve hurt his ego.

“I know you can. Maddie is just the brains of the operation,” I soothe him.

Maddie snickers and Leo rolls his eyes. “Fine, let’s go brain,” he says, putting his arm around her shoulder.

“Aye aye, Pinky,” Maddie salutes him as they stomp out of the room.

Tommy and I get to work grabbing the Fall Fest dinners and putting them into a large box. After they’re stacked on a dolly, we begin to load them one by one onto the first bakery van. A comfortable silence fills the van as we secure the last of the food. “So, are you single?” I ask Tommy, attempting to play matchmaker for Maddie.

Tommy wipes his hands on his pants and my nose scrunches. Later he’s going to wonder where that stain came from… men. “Depends on who’s asking,” he drawls suspiciously.

I scoff, hopping down out of the van. “You and Leo are the biggest whores I’ve ever met. It’s a simple question Tommy,” I rant before forcefully pushing another box towards him.

Tommy stops the box from moving so quickly across the large metal floor paneling. “Who’s asking, Ginny?” he directs.

My leg bounces and the ways Maddie will kill me for this runs through my brain. “Madeline,” I jabber, hoping he won't tell her.

Tommy looks up at me blinking rapidly. His mouth forms a large o and his brows furrow. “I’m single, but I’m not interested,” he declares.

I put my hands on my hips. “What do you mean you’re not interested? She’s literally perfect,” I say, pointing out the fact that she’s a blonde with blue eyes. She’s every man in America’s dream.

Tommy shrugs. “Hate to say it but we Millers have a type. She’s beautiful, just not my cup of tea if you catch my drift,” he explains resuming his work.

Ohhhh. I didn’t know the Millers prefer brown women. But then again, I’ve never actually been to Joel's house or seen a picture of Sarah, or his exes. How the fuck was I supposed to know? “100%” I confirm, pushing him another box. “Can I ask you something?” I ask.

“Depends-” Tommy starts and I cut him off.

“On what it is I know,” I snap, gnawing on my bottom lip. “How do I say this?” I think out loud.

Tommy's choleric disposition takes over his face, similar to Joel's when he’s had enough. “Whatever it is spit it out,” he growls lowly.

The sweat on my forehead collects and I feel like hot water is being poured onto my scalp. But I have to know how Joel feels about me, and Tommy would know. “Is Joel interested in me?” I blurt, feeling like I’ve finally submerged myself in a cool bath.

Tommy doesn’t say anything, he just purses his lips. The comfort I felt turns into pain when the water turns into ice. My body is frozen and I’m rendered speechless.

I want to flee. I need to get out of here. I shouldn’t have asked. “Oh my god,” I finally speak.

“Mmmhm,” Tommy hums, motioning for me to pass him another box so I can continue t

I rub my eyebrows as the pit in my stomach fills with anxiety. “Oh god, Tommy. What am I gonna do?” I ask, unable to stand anymore with the alley seemingly spinning.

I take a seat in the back of the truck, putting my head in my hands. “What do you want to do?” Tommy asks.

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you,” I groan towards the ground.

“Well the way I see it, lean into it or tell him so he doesn’t fall harder for ya,” he advises.

My brain runs through all the moments that I’ve had with Joel. How the first day we met he offered to cook for me. Every lingering touch, all the compliments he’s given me, when vulnerable he’s been with me. You don’t do that with someone who’s just a friend. 

I peel my hands away from my face with realization. “Oh my gosh, he’s been sending so many signals. I’m going to throw up,” I groan.

Tommy steps out of the van, looking down at me. “Please don’t,” he pleads.

Suddenly, Joel comes around the corner at the most inappropriate time. These Millers just pop up anywhere and one day, they’re going to make me piss myself. They need a bell on their ankles. He hands the last boxes to Tommy and I pray to the gods above he didn’t overhear our conversation. “Don’t what?” Joel asks.

Fuck. My body tenses and I try to focus on containing the bile rising in my throat. “Ginny’s feelin’ dizzy. I’m almost finished here. She’s just gonna sit for a second,” he tells his brother.

Joel sits down on the metal butt of the truck next to me. He puts his hand in my lap, palm facing up towards me. I accept his offer, intertwining our fingers. “You need anything, sugar?” he asks sweetly, and I sigh.

I nod, running the back of his hands with my thumb. Attentive Joel is my favorite, but only because I’m an attention whore. “Can you get me a Coke from the fridge? Maybe I just need some caffeine,” I request.

Joel nods, trying to let go of my hand. Although I don’t want him to, I allow him to disconnect from me. “Of course, I’ll be right back,” he says, petting my head before turning around and disappearing behind the van.

A sigh of relief slips my lips and I try to refocus on calming my breathing. “So are you?” I hear Tommy say behind me.

I scoot back against the inside of the van walls, allowing the sides to cool me down. “Am I what?” I ask him with a raised brow.

“Are you single?” he reiterates.

A smirk creeps onto my lips. “Depends on who’s asking,” I taunt him.

“Joel,” Tommy cuts straight to the point, unlike me.

I giggle and I feel like the panic has finally subsided. “Yeah, I’m single,” I tell him.

Tommy finishes securing the last box and he turns around to face me. He puts his hands on his upper thigh, leaning on one leg. Jesus Christ, now that’s attractive. “And open? Ready?” he interrogates.

I nod, sliding out of the truck. “Tommy, I mean it. Make sure Joel knows how ready,” I say to him as he shuts the back doors.

Joel turns off the engine to the bakery van, having pulled into the spot at the school where vendors unload. He turns to me and flashes me a smile. “You alright?” he asks concerned.

After that conversation with Tommy, I needed more than just a Coke. I needed multiple shots of tequila. I forced Tommy and Maddie to join me, leaving Joel and Leo the only sober people to drink the trucks.

I nod, and my body bobs unstabily. “Yes,” I slur.

Joel shakes his head and his head falls back. He lets out a loud bellowing laugh, holding his stomach and I know he’s caught me in the lie. “Well, you are not talking to any parents tonight,” he chuckles, wiping his hands over his face.

I roll my eyes at him. “I wasn’t planning on it. Besides, all the moms are going to be all over hot Chef Miller,” I complain, hoping he doesn’t notice my jealousy. 

He laughs again and it’s so beautiful, I want to make his laugh featuring Ellie’s giggle my alarm clock so I can wake up peacefully. Snap the fuck out of it, Imogen. “That’s not going to happen,” Joel says, opening his door.

I don’t get to respond before he shuts it, jogging over to my side to retrieve me. Joel opens the door and I’m reading to pounce. “Yes, the fuck it is,” I counter, feeling my emotional drunk alter ego arise.

Joel leans against the door frame, extending his hand to help me down. “Well good thing I don’t want any of them,” he claims.

I accept his hand, looking at him with hope in my eyes. “Really?” I ask.

Joel’s pupils dilate and he flashes me a smile. “Really,” he confirms, putting his hands on my hips.

He guides me until my back is pressed against the cool metal of the truck. His eyes flicker down to my lips before back up to me. If he’s going to do anything, he better do it now before someone sees us.

“Joel!” “Ginny!” I hear Ellie and Dina’s voices call from behind Joel. Fuck, scratch a bell bracelet. They need a fucking air horn.

Joel steps back, putting some space between us. “Hey kiddo,” he greets her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Fucking cock blocking crotch demons. Let it go, Imogen. He was probably just trying to perform a wellness check on you. “Hey, Dina,” I say, teetering over to her in my heels.

“Thanks for coming,” I hear Ellie say to her dad.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I hear Joel say before the second van pulls up in the spot next to us.

Ellie gasps when she sees who’s in the passenger seat. She slams her hand on the glass window, effectively scaring Leo who’s on the other side. “Uncle Tommy!” she cheers before running over to the passenger side.

Joel leans over until his lips are touching my ear. “It’s always ‘Uncle Tommy, Uncle Tommy.’ But never ‘Dad’,” he complains in a whisper.

I sway a bit, unstable from the drinking. “Patience, young padawan,” I quote Star Wars to him.

Joel wraps his arms around my waist to stabilize me. Dina’s eyes look us up and down. She leans forward and sniffs the air in front of my face. “Ginny, are you drunk?” she asks loudly.

“Shhhhh. You’ll tell the whole fucking school,” I shush her, pulling her towards me so Leo can get out of the car.

Dina snickers, lacing her hand in mine. “Come on, we’re walking to the corner store for snacks before it starts,” she enlists me.

I nod excitedly, thinking about the possibility of having slushies and Hot funyons. “Count me in. Got any cash, Joel?” I ask the resourceful man. He’s bound to have something on him and I don’t feel like bringing my purse.

He nods, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a brown leather wallet. “Mmhm. Take Tommy with you, Sugar,” he hands me back two twenties and I gladly accept them, slipping them into Dina’s hands.

I wine, squirming a bit. “But Joel, Maddie will be with us. All girls with Tommy would just be weird,” I complain.

Joel brushes past me, heading towards the back of the trucks. “I don’t care, you’re both drunk. You need someone out there lookin’ after y’all,” he says over his shoulder.

Dina tugs my hands a couple of times, dancing in place. “Awwww,” she coos.

I cover my mouth to try to stop the giggle that slips out. He’s cute when he’s all protective and shit. “Hehe. Does he have a gun?” I ask, pulling Dina towards the back with me.

Joel grabs the handle, opening the heavy doors. “Yes,” he answers.

“Well okay, as long as he doesn’t bother us,” I conceded.

The 3 others from the van join us along with Ellie. Dina immediately ditches me, joining her now best friend. “Tommy, walk with them to the store,” Joel commands his brother.

“Why can’t Leo do it?” Tommy groans like a child.

Joel takes out the Dolly to start unloading the items. “Because Leo’s sober, and I need his help with this shit,” he states frustratedly. 

Leo snickers, walking over to the truck to start unloading the boxes. “Ahem,” I clear my throat at Joel.

That fucker forgot one crucial part. “And stay ten paces behind them,” he adds.

Tommy puts his hands up. “Fine by me. I don’t wanna know you’re girly bullshit anyways,” he jeers.

Madeline pats him on the shoulders. “That’s what they all say, Tommy,” she argues.

Maddie links her arm with mine. “We’ll see you guys later,” I say to Joel before joining the teenagers for the walk down the block.

We walk through the parking lot for a bit before entering the school. Whenever I have a drop of liquor in me, I have the urge to Irish goodbye. I drag Maddie with me until were walking closer behind the girls. “We should really lose him,” I suggest.

Ellie looks over her shoulder at Tommy before nodding at Dina. “Okay, follow us,” Dina intrusts.

I nod as we move quickly through the hall taking a left and running into a room. We quickly shut the door behind us, and I peer out the window waiting for Tommy to walk by. When he does, he looks confused turning around in circles. I snicker and he seemingly hears. I quickly pulls my head away from the small plexiglass, hoping he didn’t notice me. “Did we lose him?” Ellie asks, looking over my shoulder.

Maddie takes matters into her own hands, stepping past me to check. “Coast is clear,” she informs us with a smile.

We break out into laughter and I feel like I’ve just pulled off the greatest inside job ever. “Let’s go,” Dina says, reaching for the door handle.

When we get to the store, I bolt toward the Slurpee machine. I grab the largest cup size, filling it with cherry and coke flavors. Once my drink is secured, I grab and fill two cups for Tommy and Joel. Ellie finds me, grabbing Joel's cup, and together we wander the store looking for the spicy chips. 

I snatch three bags from the top shelf, figuring someone will stick their fingers in my bag and piss me off. It’s always good to have extras. “You know, I’d be okay if my dad dated someone like you,” Ellie pipes up randomly next to me.

I almost drop the Slurpee onto the tile floor beneath me. “Oh. Where is this coming from?” I ask her with a raised brow.

She grabs some chips before we walk towards the candy aisle to meet with Maddie and Dina. “He asked me if I was okay with him dating someone the other day,” she leaves me hanging on her every word.

“What’d you say?” I dig deeper.

She turns towards me with a smirk on her lips. “I said I wouldn’t care as long as it was you,” she admits.

The door to the corner store dings and Tommy is pushed in by the windy city. He looks pissed as fuck as he stomps over towards us. “The hell? Your dad is gonna kill me if he finds out–” he starts before Ellie cuts him by shoving a Slurpee in his hand.

“He’ll be fine. Let’s go, Uncle Tommy,” she motions towards the counter.

By the time we’re back in the gym, everything is set up. Joel graciously accepts the Slurpee, which turns his tongue blue, sending Ellie into a fit of giggles. Now hours later, I walk around the gym shopping at other booths with Madeline. I can’t deny that every time I look at Joel, our eyes link for a second too long. The simple interaction causes my breath to catch in my chest every time, and I try to ignore it. 

After some time, we’re finished looking in the main gym, and we head into the hall to see the art auction pieces. Eligible students can create anything they want; a poem, a painting, or a sculpture to put up for action. The people who come to Fall Fest pledge money towards an art piece, and the money earned goes towards the student’s college tuition.

We stroll down the hall, mindlessly chatting about which pieces we want to bid on before Maddie points at a specific piece. “That’s fucking gorgeous,” she blusters.

A smile creeps on my face when I look closer at the signature. The familiar white calligraphy makes my heart sing. “It’s Ellie’s,” I boast about the talented young girl.

“Now I see why she’s painting the mural. This is some good shit. I’ve gotta commission her for some art,” Maddie rambles, seemingly entranced by the swirls of paint before her.

I nod, smiling at the though of Ellie becoming an artist of some kind. “She’d probably love that,” I tell her.

When I turn around, I see Joel walking through the door of the large hall. His eyes dart around till he finds me, b-lining for us. He stands in front of me awkwardly and when Maddie turns around, she jumps from being startled a bit. “Well, I’m gonna just go look…” she trails off, effectively excusing herself.

“Can we talk?” Joel asks, tilting his head towards a darker secluded hall.

“Yeah,” I say to him, pulling him into the area not lit by prison lighting.

Once we’re alone, I lean back against the wall. “What’s wrong?” I tilt my head attempting to cajole him into telling me.

“Nothin’ it’s just, I’ve bit my tongue 'cause I was unsure if–” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “I enjoy spendin’ time with you, Ginny. You’ve become important to me and you should know that I care about you deeply, sugar,” he confesses.

Oh, I wasn’t expecting that. This train has a one-way route towards the friend zone. “I care about you too Joel! And I like spending time with you too. And Ellie,” I sadly follow his lead.

Joel steps closer, putting his hand over my head and leaning forward. “I just really don’t wanna lose you,” he expresses, voice laced with sincerity.

My hands snake up around his waist and I grip the grey shirt he’s wearing. “How would you lose me, Joel?”

Joel's eyes stay fixed on mine and the brown in his eyes swirls like hot chocolate. “Sugar, I feel more than just a friendship level for ya. I like you,” he stresses.

“Oh, Joel. I’m not going anywhere. I wouldn’t,” I promise him, pulling him closer so our upper bodies are pressed towards each other.

He sighs, looking down at the ground between us. “I know, but telling you that means changing our relationship. I don’t want to scare you and I didn’t know–” he starts before I tap his side, cutting him off.

“Joel, I like you too. Like… a lot,” I confirm.

His head quickly rises and he sighs, “Oh.”

I’m starting to feel embarrassed by the whole situation. “Dear, god. I-I don’t know why my brain goes blank when I look at you. I think I’m going crazy. I feel like a high schooler,” I falter.

Joel chuckles, leaning forward to press his forehead onto mine. I clear my throat, impatient tugging at his side. “So, I think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me,” I murmur.

Joel takes his forehead off of mine, searching my face seemingly wary of crossing the line. All he’s going to find is my stupid shit-eating grin. “Are you sure?” Joel asks for consent and I think it’s the most sexy thing I’ve ever heard leave a man's lips.

“Positive,” I nod, radiating with excitement.

“Okay,” he sighs and a wolfish grin creeps onto his face.

His hands slide up to my neck, pulling me closer. “Okay,” I murmur.

He grabs the back of my neck, crashing his lips onto mine. We both smile into the kiss and I force a giggle back down my throat. My lips open slightly, granting him entrance. His warm tongue dances with mine and I marvel at the taste of whiskey and apple on his lips. It’s filled with so much passion, that I feel like my heart is about to explode.

His fingers thread into my hair, massing my scalp as he kisses me. I moan into his mouth and my clit pulsates with a hunger for him. He disconnects our lips, leaving us both panting because of the other. “Was that as good for you as it was for me?” I murmur against his lips.

“Probably better,” Joel grunts before pulling back and motioning towards the hard member protruding through his jeans.

“Joel, oh my gosh,” I giggle, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his torso. “Can I have one more?” I practically salivate, batting my lashes at him.

Joel nods, snaking his hand back around my neck. His thumb strokes my jaw and I lean into him. “Mmmhm,” he hums, dipping his head back down.

His lips connect with mine and my tongue continues to explore his map. I want to stay in this moment forever. It feels like a dream and I don’t want to wake up. His lips are surprisingly soft and I kick myself for not doing this months ago.

The smacking of our lips is apparent when we pull back this time and I know my face is covered in pink flush. “Damn it. I was supposed to do this right. Date first, then kiss,” he curses himself.

I giggle, standing on my tip-toes to press a kiss against his cheek. “Joel, I asked you to kiss me. Besides, we’ve known each other for months,” I acknowledge our past.

Joel nods, but he doesn’t seem ready to let it go. “You’re right, but still. Can I take you out on a date?” he pleads.

I’m practically bouncing on my toes, my mind racing with thoughts of my future with Joel. Relax Ginny, he just asked you out on one date. “Yes,” I blurt.

Joel chuckles at my excitement, taking a step back and lacing his hand with mine. “When are you free next?” he turns to me and asks as we walk back to the gym.

“Thursday, but it’s Thanksgiving. After that, on Friday. Speaking of, do you guys have any plans for the holiday?” I inquire.

Joel shakes his head, confirming my suspicions. “No, just me, Tommy, and Ellie eating at an undecided time,” he informs me.

“How about you join me at Maddie’s house? Her family always orders catering for Thanksgiving,” I offer, hoping he’ll grace me with his presence sooner than a week from now. I get we’re both busy food industry owners, which I love, I just don’t think I can wait that long to be in a romantic setting with him.

“I know. They’ve put in an order at The Austin for the past two years,” Joel dictates and I nod. Just my luck, the man’s food I’ve been shoveling into my mouth for the past 6 holidays is also the man I’m trying to date.

I poke his muscular bicep with my free hand. “Even better, you can personally deliver it and tell everyone who doesn’t like it that they’re wrong. Just like you did on my birthday,” I joke with him and he puts his hands on his chest, seemingly hurt by my statement.

“I’m sorry about that, darlin’. Really I am,” Joel apologizes.

I tug on his hand, trying to grab his attention and snap him out of a spiral. “I’m fucking with you, Joel. Please come. I’m sure Ellie would love it,” I practically beg him.

Joel pauses, looking up to think about it. He’s probably worried about how unpredictable his two family members would be in this setting. “Okay, we’ll come,” he concedes, finally.

“Good. I’ll text you the details. You’re standing straighter,” I beam, pointing out his posture change.

Joel chuckles, rubbing his thumb across mine soothingly. “I feel like a house just lifted off my back. I’ve had my eyes on you since June 30th,” he confesses.

I smirk, leaning closer to him. “So Maddie was right, you were practically drolling on my shoulder,” I taunt.

“She said that?” he asks with furrowed brows.

I nod, attempting not to give him too much information. “Mmmhm,” I hum.

He tugs on my hand, stopping me in my tracks before I reach the entryway. “I’m not going to deny that, Sugar,” he looks me up and down like I’m a meal he wants to ravish.

The thought of us fucking turns me on even more, and I have to remind myself we’re in a high school. “Okay, one last kiss before we’re back in the gym?” I use my siren eyes against him, peering up at him through my lashes.

“I like how you think,” Joel mumbles, sliding his free hand up and around the front of my neck. He gently pulls me forward, connecting our lips one final time. A wave of relief hits me, and I moan as his tongue dances with mine in the filthiest way. Me and Joel Miller are going out on a date.

read the rest of the series

[lokisasylum]

Lately...?

BTW this is a Jimin biased ARMY saying this. Not a solo.

This following set of tweets is coming from someone OUTSIDE of the BTS fandom ↓

For YEARS armys have been known and exposed for harassing reactors on youtube into STOP praising or talking about JM (I think the only 2 with actual cojones left are "dt parker" who literally told armys to go f*ck themselves if they thought he was gonna stop praising or talking about Jimin and then went and made a wholeass channel dedicated ONLY to react to Jimin content. And the other dude is Nigel Baker, who also publicly spoke up about armys being hypocritical on youtube and harassing others who mention Jimin).

They harass his fanbases whenever they plan ANYTHING for him. No matter the time of year.

Harassed locals & tried to force-feed other members to them in tweets where they are praising Jimin or asking who he is (they especially did this constantly during HIS solo album debut).

Reported articles that highlighted his dancing, singing or looks and then harassed the journalist into making it about the group only.

Now the company actually PAY$ articles to defame him in order to make another member shine.

How are some of ya'll JUST waking up from the purple flavored kool-aid when this shit's been going on FOR YEARS?

Also, wtf is this Mickey Mouse shit-show obsession with the encore stages???

Before Covid, "Encore" stages in music shows like Music Bank, Inkigayo, Music Core, ect... were mostly for clowning around after the Idol/Groups won or fulfilling silly dares like eating mouthfuls of ice scream while trying to sing & not get a brain freeze, wearing lipstick & kissing the trophy, reading out the lyrics like you're narrating a story, singing opera, dancing in acupuncture shoes, giving piggybacks to the person who's turn it was to sing, and so on.

Since when did we become so snobbish over an encore to the point of judging an artist being good or mediocre over a few missed notes, voice cracking, missing the beat? (Some western artist don't even sing or finish the whole song during an encore at an actual concert).

I don't even recall in most BTS encore stages all of the members even singing, it was always 2 or 3 and they were goofing around most of the time because it was a moment to have fun, celebrate and interact with the fans and showing gratitude that your fans were THERE FOR YOU after all those hours of filming.

The only thing we used to care about is that THEY WON & that they kicked ass during their actual stage.

But now its like: "Oh, this one artist made a minor mistake that no one cared about during his/her encore stage, lemme remind them every 5 business days that they SUCK and should k*ll themselves."

Like ya'll really don't see anything weird with this behavior and just keep rolling with it? This is NORMAL to you?

[purplemortuary]

My heart hurts.

Atsushi Sakurai, you gave me countless moments of joy, sadness, nostalgia and love among many feelings.

I don't even remember how I found out about Buck-Tick but wasn't more than a couple of years ago, sadly I didn't find your music before which would have been a delight.

I'm still making my peace with the fact that you won't be around anymore, I have moments of denial and moments of tears. There are instants in which I'm like "But how? He was here last month, how is he not here anymore, he was still young"

It all felt so sudden but somewhat I've been depressed for days and I didn't know why, I guess I was even more worried than what I wanted to admit after his heath declined but a part of me was trying to think "he's alright and resting with his cats at home"

But days kept passing and there were no news, U-ta said he was going to take a break from his blog which felt odd but I still thought "maybe they realised it's time to take it slower and take care of themselves"

When I finally saw the announcement, a chill runs through my body and I am shaking, I told a friend with whom I was talking to "he died" and I couldn't believe the words came out of my fingers typing. I read the post probably 20 times hoping for it to change.

Then it all made sense, Issay, COVID, the stress he was probably having, his voice being hurt, Imai drinking a beer I believe in the middle of the night, U-ta stopping his blog and the very late birthday wish for Imai on the Instagram profile.

He died the very day he stumbled in his feet but still kept going for three songs, I heard from people who were there that something didn't feel right from the start, that day will stay forever in my heart. I have many drafts and sketches of him but almost never finished anything, one day I might.

I know that I will never get the chance to see you dance and sing with your beautiful voice which was something I was planning on my trip to Japan in the next few years, now even thinking about travelling feels painful, but I'll try to remember the good side of you, the songs you gave us, the laughs and smiles you gifted us, the thoughts you shared with us, the turbulent times and the happy times.

I know you probably had a difficult and sometimes lonely life, sometimes I felt connected to your opinions in interviews and views on life and relationships.

I don't know what's going to happen to the band now, only time and decisions of Mr. Imai, Mr. Hoshino, Mr. Yuta and Mr. Yagami will say.

Regardless of what happens, I will support their choice and keep loving them as the band that was born in school and didn't know the future was going to be more than 35 years together, a life full of experiences.

Thank you so much for sharing a part of your life with us and I'm forever grateful that I got to exist in the same timeline as you.

Photo: Atsushi Sakurai's hand (top) in 2017 from Jin Shirosaki's blog (https://ameblo.jp/shirosaki-jin/entry-12342363953.html)

[writingonleaves]

remember thinking that i got this right - brady skjei

pairing: brady skjei x original female character

warnings: swearing, slight angst, fluff, not proofread

title: “lie to me” by 5 seconds of summer

word count: 2.4k

author’s note: lie to me is my most played song of all time, therefore, i decided to write this in two hours. it’s different than my usual. i think i’m happy with it. hope you all enjoy and lmk what you think!!

*****

Monet Shemer has got to be hallucinating.

There’s no way, as she’s drinking a Downeast, that Brady fucking Skjei is at the same East Village dive bar as her right now.

She blinks three times, even looks away, taking a hefty drink of her cider. But nope, it’s him. And it’s just her luck that he catches her eye this time. She seems him physically react, and before she knows it, she watches him excuse himself from the group he’s with and walk over to where she’s sitting. All Monet can do is watch him as he approaches, eyes scanning over his gray t-shirt, his salt and pepper hair and his eyes that, to her, have always held a distinct sparkle.

It’s been three years since she’s seen him this close in person. It feels like yesterday.

“Hi Moe,” he says, slipping into the seat next to her and placing his beer on the countertop.

“Hey.”

“Small world, huh?”

A bit too small, in Monet’s opinion. She laughs nervously. “Seems like it.”

“Are you here alone?”

She shakes her head, nodding to her two friends out on the dance floor, one of who is grinding against another girl right now. “Girl in the pink dress and black dress are my coworkers. You?”

“Remember Mike Reilly?” She looks over his shoulder and can’t help but grin at the familiar face, as well as a few others from their University of Minnesota days. “He’s getting married next week in Long Beach.”

“Good for him,” she says genuinely.

“Yeah,” Brady swallows. “It’s been awhile.”

“Three years.”

“Three years.” He repeats softly, and the look in his eyes has Monet taking another big sip of her cider. “Has it really been that long?”

“Yup.” Because what else can Monet really say? It’s been three years since she left this very city heartbroken, when a weekend trip watching Brady play at Madison Square Garden had turned into a teary-eyed breakup that had her crying on the whole flight back to Chicago. Three years since she’s been in a relationship that’s meant anything to her.

And fuck, it hurts so much more now, with him in front of her, because she knows that it didn’t affect him the same. They still have mutual friends back from college. She knew he started dating someone six months after they broke up.

(She also knows that they broke up over a year ago. But that doesn’t really mean anything.)

“How have you been?” Brady asks, and he asks it so earnestly that Monet can’t even get annoyed. “You work in New York now?”

She bites her lip at the underlying question in his voice. “Yeah. Same company as before. Just transferred offices and a different sector.”

“When?”

“When what?”

“When did you move out here?”

She hesitates. “A few months before COVID.”

She watches the realization settle on his face. He was still playing for the Rangers then. “And you didn’t reach out?”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t feel inclined to reach out to the person who broke my heart.”

His breath hitches and Monet is slightly satisfied. Good. He closes his eyes for a second. “You know that I didn’t mean to.”

“That doesn’t mean it hurt any less.”

“I guess not,” he breathes out. “I meant every word I said that night, Moe. I really am sorry that it turned out the way it did.”

Now Monet feels guilty at her sudden coldness, because it had been mutual and Brady had seemed distraught about it at the time. She smiles weakly. “How have you been? You like Raleigh?”

Brady shrugs. “I do. The guys are great. We’ve been making playoffs consistently. I can’t complain too much. Not as many options for coffee as here though.”

Monet snorts before she can stop herself. “You finally branched out of your go-to Starbucks?”

He laughs and Monet feels her heart breaking at the sound. “Busted. I’m trying to.”

“Uh huh. You know their cold brew is disgusting.”

“And the sugar-filled frappacinos you got were any better?” He smirks as she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“You don’t get to be a coffee snob to me when all you like is beer.” She knows it’s a weak retort, considering she’s drinking a cider and the IPA in his hands is actually one of her favorites.

And he knows it too, as he snorts. He takes a sip without breaking eye contact, and it makes her stomach warm. Three fucking years later and he still has this effect on her. “You look beautiful,” he says softly.

She snorts. “I did come here straight from work, so that’s definetly not true. But thanks.”

“You always had the ability to make anything look stunning.”

Monet squeezes her eyes shut, because fucking hell, he can’t just say shit like that. “Brady.”

“I’m sorry,” at least he looks apologetic. “That was out of line.”

“It was,” she says. She feels suffocated. She needs to get out of here. Where are Carey and Emma?

To her luck, they suddenly appear right in front of her. Carey’s holding Emma up by the shoulders with a grimace. “Hey, I think I’m gonna take this one home.”

Monet can’t help but chuckle. “You need help?”

Carey waves her friend off. “Nah, I’ll make sure she gets in her apartment.” How nice it must be to live in the same building as one of your closest friends. Carey unsubtely eyes Brady, who’s looking at Emma in mild concern. Stupid Brady and his good manners. “Hi. I’m Carey.”

“Brady.”

Monet sees the flash of recognition come across Carey’s face. Carey’s never met Brady, but she knows enough. “You good to get back on your own, Moe?”

“Yeah.”

Carey looks between Monet and Brady. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She appreciates her friend’s concern, but it’s not needed. Brady is a lot of things. Inconsiderate isn’t one of them.

Carey nods as Emma’s head lolls on her shoulder. “See you around, maybe?” She directs towards Brady.

“Hopefully,” Brady says with a smile. Monet tries not to read into that as she eyes her friends’ backs. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. She just needs to sleep it off. She got dumped last week.”

“Ah,” Brady nods in understanding. “That’s never fun.”

She clears her throat. “You should get back to your friends.” Once upon a time, Monet may have even considered some of them their friends. But that was before.

He waves her off. “They’re fine without me.”

She traces the rim of her glass. “What do you want, Brady?”

He looks a bit hurt, though with a hint of understanding. “I-I thought I was seeing things earlier when I saw you. But then I realized it was really you and I just, I don’t know. I couldn’t not talk to you, you know?” His gaze drops to the bottle in his hands. “Do you hate me?”

Monet is taken aback by that. She didn’t think it was in Brady to get vulnerable in a random dive bar on a Friday night. When they were younger, it took a lot for Brady’s voice to reach this level of trembling.

But that’s just it. When they were younger.

“No,” she admits. “No, I don’t. I don’t think I ever could.”

“You should,” he whispers. “Sometimes I still do for pushing you away three years ago.”

“Then why did you never reach out?” She flashes back to those months after, endless nights donimated by tears, what-ifs flooding her brain and mornings where she wished she was still his.

“I don’t know,” he clasps his hands together, laying them on the table. “I almost did a couple of times. But I always stopped myself. I guess…I guess I convinced myself that since I was the one pushed you away that I couldn’t be the one to reach out first.”

“So it’s because you were too proud?” She sees him swallow and not respond. She sighs.

“I know, I know,” his shoulders deflate. “Why did you never reach out?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“You were wrong.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

Silence falls between them, the sounds of Bruce Springsteen echoing through the crowded bar. She watches him pick at his nails and has an urge to cover her hands with his so that he’ll stop.

“I miss you,” she blurts out. Brady lifts his head up to meet her gaze immediately. She forges on. “I wish I didn’t. I mean, three years, right? That’s kind of pathetic. But I do. Miss you, that is. Even as just a friend.” She laughs humorlessly. “I even tagged along with Emma last season to a game at MSG when the Rangers were playing the Canes. I never intended on reaching out, but I just wanted to see you play.”

“Moe.”

“I don’t expect you to feel the same,” she says firmly. Or as firmly as she can with a frog in her throat. “And I mean that. I’m me. And you’re you. I get it.”

“Don’t say that.”

She shrugs. “I’m not saying anything that-”

“I mean it,” Brady says fiercely, a fire in his eyes that used to only appear when he was really passionate about something. “Monet, you’re-you’re spectacular. You’re kind to everyone. You’re incredibly smart. You always put others before yourself. You’re the best person I’ve ever met. Still to this day.”

Now her eyes start watering. “That’s…uh, thank you. That’s really nice of you to say.”

He chuckles, shaking his head at her slightly with a fond look on his face. “You just proved my point.” The smile drops as he leans forward, serious expression on his face. “I miss you too. I still-I still think of you everytime I see lilies. Or when we play in Chicago, though I guess you’re here now. My grandma still asks about you and gets very dissapointed when I don’t have any updates outside of your Instagram. When I go back home, I always picture you sitting at the back porch with my mom talking about the books you’ve both been reading. I could go on.” He lets out a deep breath to center himself. “My point is, is that I don’t think I could ever love someone the way I loved you. And I tried. Fuck me, I tried. But no one ever came close.”

Somewhere deep down, Monet knew a confession like this was coming. He would’ve walked away from this conversation right at the start otherwise. Her heart hurts, realizing how much they still know about each other. She stares down at her hands, biting her lip as he tentatively puts one of his over hers. She doesn’t pull away.

“So now what?” Monet whispers. “We both miss each other. We…I’m here and you’re in Raleigh.”

He snorts. She wonders if he’s thinking the same thing — that one of the main factors that drove them apart was because she had been working in Chicago and he was in New York, where she is now. But he’s not here anymore.

“It’s not ideal,” he says.

“When has it ever been?” She shoots back.

“Remember when you came out to New York and the night before you were supposed to leave, I convinced you to change your flight so you could stay a few extra days?”

She blinks at the abrupt topic change. “Yeah. That was, like, one of the times I skipped class. You were a bad influence.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs with a light smile. “I remember the next morning, watching you sleep and thinking that I got this right. Somehow, I had the dream of playing hockey for a living and I had the perfect girl next to me. After we broke up, I didn’t know if I’d be able to have that again. But you’re here telling me that maybe there’s a chance. I’m not letting that go.”

Something about that and the way he says it makes her intertwine their hands as she gives his hand a squeeze.

“Brady, I don’t know if I can do it again,” she says. “I don’t know if I can put myself through all of that if the outcome could be…this. What the last three years were to me.”

“It’ll be different this time,” he says confidently. “We’re both older. A bit wiser. It’ll be different.”

“But you don’t know that.”

“Maybe,” he repeats. “But I’ve missed you. I love you. That has to count for something, right? Please let it count for something.”

Monet swallows. Love? Missing is fine, but love? That’s not something to just throw around.

(And the thing is, she knows that he knows that. He’s not throwing it around just to do so)

“Do you remember what you got me for our third anniversary?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Uh, the framed pressed flowers?”

Of course he remembers. Her lips quirk up. He had gone somewhere to press flowers from bouquets that he had gifted her in the past. It’s still the msot thoughtful present she’s ever received.

“Yeah.”

“What about them?”

“I still have it hung up in my living room.”

The confession has Brady’s eyes gleaming. “Let me take you out to dinner, please.” He pleads gently.

One second. Then two. And then: “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She nods, a smile threatening to spill out her lips. “Yeah. Okay. Are you around tomorrow night?”

“Yes,” he responds quickly.

She laughs at his eagerness. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Even if I had plans, it doesn’t matter now.”

“Brady.”

He shrugs with a light smirk. “What?”

She just rolls her eyes. She bites her lip, one more question burning through her mind. “And after?”

“Hm?”

“After. If it goes well.” The “if” is hilarious, because she and him both know it will. “I’m here and you’re going back to Minny for the off season, I assume. And then you’re back down in Raleigh.”

“We’ll work it out.” He says it so confidently that Monet can’t help but believe him.

Monet takes one last look at him. He stares at her so lovingly and rubs his thumb over hers.

(The next night, when she opens the door of her apartment with Brady, looking incredibly handsome in a white button-up with lillies in his hands, she lets herself go and kisses him.

He’s right. They’ll work it out.)

[fitzrove]

TdV Hamburg review!!

I saw two shows with the same cast (of note: Vincent van Gorp as Alfred, Kristin Backes as Sarah, Simon Loughton as Krolock) and hence feel like I have a pretty well-rounded view of this production (at least w this cast). I'm glad I went twice because things that bothered me in the matinee had less of an impact on the evening show!

TL;DR - Liked it a surprising amount though not sure how much of that is due to wishful thinking XD In any case, it's leagues better than Stuttgart 2021.

Spoilers/details:

- Sarah and Alfred both hear the "sei bereit" in nie gesehn and Krolock sings gott ist tot to both of them!!! The overall impression is that both are being tempted, Alfred just resists and hesitates more. Which I enjoy hehehe

- I like Simon's Krolock overall, he is a bisexual dirty old man with some Flair akdklsls. The more time goes on the less I like tenor/high voiced Krolocks but he had some great classical singing deep notes so he seems like a good mix, I'll take it. I couldn't altogether sense any Deep Depths Of Pain in Gier but it's ok, not my main fave number in the show anyway.

- Paolo Valenti as Nightmare Alfred is a highlight, and so were the other dance soloists (Ian Vrolijk & Kezia Coulson) tbh hehe. I love Carpe Noctem and they delivered. The choreography seems lots less straightwashed than in covid safety measure times (I guess I can excuse it in hindsight then, since it's proven temporary). Also I always love white vamp's slutty little black lace stockings hehehe

- Vincent van Gorp's Alfred was much better in the evening than in the matinee. I liked him from Sie irren onwards in both shows, but I really need Alfred to have enough of an "edge" to him, some level of seriousness in his devotion to Sarah, and in the matinee he just seemed cutesy and too naive. But his overall demeanor was a lot more to my liking in the evening (save for a few choices which must come from the direction, ie. he sulks and pouts after Sarah tricks the bath from him... I never fail to mourn the deleted verse where Alfred basically says he's into the teasing lol). Bonus points for what I read as lots and lots of repressed bisexuality in vor dem schloss hehehe

- TANZSAAL!!!! We get the best of everything: Alfred tries to run to Sarah at multiple points (most touchingly when she falls to the floor), only stopped by the prof - AND he faints during the bite >:))) and literally fans himself 😌 We also get a reluctant/disillusioned Sarah, which is my preference

- Kristin Backes as Sarah is great, she reminds me a lot of Sarah Brightman (in the poto music video which is all I've seen of her). Amazing vocals (even in roten stiefel which gets pitchy with so many Sarahs), convincing arc, no notes 😌

- Oooh another fun thing: Nightmare Solo 1 was covered by Herbert in the show I saw (Jonas Steppe was off so I had Andres Vercoutere, he did great), and Nightmare Solo 2 is a woman!!! (Anne Hoth). Very enjoyable, their voices mix so nicely >:)

- I had the pleasure of seeing Anja Backus as Magda once again (she was one of the big solid wins of Stuttgart 2021 for me, even if some other things in that prod were quite lacking). And idk I think everyone who sees her unanimously agrees that she slays 😌😂

- ANYWAY to return to individual scenes...... What sold this prod for me the most was the combo of draussen 2 (mostly in terms of Sarah and Alfred) and the electric finale (which you can't really fail at if everyone gives their all, which they did). In draussen2 Sarah was soooo fun (the switch seemed natural and hmm shall we just say that everything she did after that was pretty hot) AND ALFRED. Omg alfred... I really like how it went for him hehe, very bloodthirsty, lunges for the professor three times before Sarah stops him... The thing about this prod is that he kind of pulls Sarah close and they kiss super romantically (thats what I think I saw) before agreeing to maul the audience - which they go to do hand in hand. And like mmmmmmm this is why I watch this show!!!! It's about the Central Dark Romance (😂😎 sorry i'm annoying about my ship on purpose but omg I feel so vindicated) and the level of loss of morals and depravity it took to finally get there... ahhhhh

[eddiesxangel]

I’m drunk so I’m posting it. It’s been in my drafts for so long and it’s not really proof read

Joes grandfather lives at the retirement home you work at and he’s your favourite resident. He gives you advice and is the grandfather you never had!

One day he’s telling you about his grandson you have yet to meet bc he only visits in weekend and you joke around like “oh he sounds like a catch you should set me up.”

Joe finally comes to visit on one of your shifts. You flirt and are sweet but professional. The next few weeks go by and Joe is visiting more and more during the week on your shifts. More and more flirting happens, bolder comments just because you think he’s so cute!!! He’s Joe Quinn!!! but he’s never seen your face bc of COVID and mask policies are strict still.

It’s a Friday night, it’s been a hard shift, hell it’s been hard week, you and your work friend needed to blow off some steam so you get ready to go out dancing. Not being able to dress up and go out in literal years bc of COVID you go all out on your looks, full hair/makeup sexiest dress you own. This was your night to just drink and dance and have fun and get dolled up bc you don’t wear makeup to work, only full in your brows and a bit of mascara to look not dead.

Dancing the night away you feel someone behind you, you look at your friend to silently ask if he’s cute. Her eyes go wide bc she knows him too, working at the same place. She smirks and walks away leaving the two of you together, curious you turn around and smile up at him. “Hi” you smile, he he smiles back and leans in to kiss you, and you let him. It’s Joe for Christ sake and you’re finally with him not at work so nothing matters anymore. You pull back practically out of breath “fancy seeing you here” you tilt your head. “You wanna get a drink”

You’re in a quieter areas where you can kind of talk “stalking me now?” You giggle playing with the straw of your drink he just bought you. He looks at you confused “I’m sorry do we know one another?” Oh he didn’t know, this could be fun…

“Oh we have met before Joseph 😉” his eyes scanning your face. He’s trying to think how he knows you. Your voice is familiar but it’s loud in the bar. “What’s your name” “I can’t tell you that, it won’t be fun anymore” you flirt “oh come one please tell me” he’s begging. “You won’t give me a hint I feel like a right dickhead” “nope you’ll figure it out.” “Can I at least get your number? Or do I already have that too?” You hold out your hand for his phone and put in your contact information under “mystery girl” you give him back his phone and he smirks rolling his eye “ you really wont tell me?” He leaned into you locking you into the bar staring into your eyes “you’re so familiar I just can’t place it” you giggle from the alcohol “you’re smart, you’ll figure it out, sometimes when you’re not in the setting you don’t recognize people” you can see the wheels in head turning but he just cannot figure it out

The rest of the night was amazing, you found your friend and introduced one another, he also recognized he but still couldn’t place her. She almost gave it away but you quickly told her about the game you were playing. After he asked you to come out with him for a lot night bite to eat, a little more kissing may or may night have happened and you were on cloud nine!

You and Joe have been texting non stop since you bumped into him at the bar. The next time he came to visit grandad you were so excited because maybe he’s figured it out?

More flirting happens but you give nothing away. You’re favourite twisted sitting beside you oblivious to what’s happening. You let them enjoy their vist but cannot help but overhear Joe talking to his granddad

“I’ve met someone grandad” “oh Joey good tell me about her what’s her name” “that’s the thing she won’t tell me!” You can’t help but giggle to yourself

Before Joe leave he stops at your desk to say goodbye

“Hi Joseph, how can I help you” “you’re a girl” “thanks, I didn’t know” “I mean I need some advice” “oh girl advice?” You raise your brows at him “ I’m talking to someone but she won’t tell me her name and it’s killing me, what do I do?” “she won’t tell you her name?” You say playing dumb. He shakes his head, “she says i know her but I can’t for the life of me figure out from where.” He signs in defeat. You almost give in right then but it’s been so fun this past week teasing him you need to keep it up just a bit longer. “Sounds like she’s fun, wants to keep you interested” “oh she’s keeping my interested alright” he laughs. You look at him, you’d be disappointed if it wasn’t you he was talking to, the flirting going on wasn’t just one sided. He started it. “Tell me about her?” You reach out to touch his hand that’s resting on your desk as You ask tilting your head “she’s get the most beautiful eyes” he says and he looks from your hands touching to yours. The nail polish… he recognized it, he commented on it at the bar bc he hadn’t seen that shade before. You’re smiling from under your mask you can’t hold it back anymore he’s broken you bc he’s the cutest and he makes your brain melt.

His eye svo wide with realization “Oh you are good”

[hatosaur]

How exactly did you come to love TLOU? I have my own special interests that just happened upon me, so I want to know about how it was for others. also, any other games that you like?

you've asked the golden question so strap in because this is gonna be LONG:

i first got into tlou through part 2! admittedly i didn't play the og first. i did own it at the time because it seemed like one of those games you just gotta play (and i was right) and yknow ellie's gay and i dug that, but at that point i hadn't played it but knew the plot through a cinematic compilation video.

i was intrigued by part 2, specifically because of the teaser at e3 where ellie and dina dance and kiss. though i didn't have a BURNING desire to have the game, me being down for anything gay pretty much what sealed my fate. so i bought the game and played it on my older brother's ps4.

and MAN, was i obsessed pretty much immediately. looking back, it was a fever dream, just me playing the game from the moment i woke up to the moment i went to bed, nonstop...until i reached the point where ellie leaves and i stopped playing, completely distraught, and ended up watching the ending on youtube.

i was pissed, conflicted, legit fell into a deep depression after knowing how the game ends. after that point, because as we all know the shitstorm over the game was not pretty, i lingered on both sides of the fanbase for a while. because as someone who went in for the gay and had to witness the gay be destroyed, i was hurt -- but i realized after seeing anti-tlou2 people talk about their (weird and irrational) reasons for hating the game that i didn't hate the game, i was just that. hurt.

but the game is meant to hurt. there's a reason for the hurt.

and once i looked past the hurt that i felt, i analyzed hardcore, discussed with people (this is the nicest environment to do so), ate up every single detail discovered, replayed, and then i was making art, obsessively so, writing fanfiction, and now it's been 3 years and those fictional fuckers still live in my brain to this day.

and of course, i dove into the og! i remember playing the game while my online lectures (because covid lol) played in the background.

tlou is fully my biggest hyperfixation/special interest to date. i went into how but here's more of the reasons behind it:

i've talked about this a ton before but i love that though tlou has a reputation of being a dark game and people tend to read it as being about "the darkness of humanity", it's really not about that, but love and what people will do for it, as well as seeking and obtaining a purpose, even in the world's darkest conditions.

i love that it's about found family, that joel can't help but love ellie, because at the end of the day, he's not really supposed to be the heartless person he wants to pretend he is, but he's supposed to be a DAD. i love that ellie, despite never knowing the feeling of a parent, loves joel right back. i love that despite disliking him at first, she warms to him so quickly and she wears him down with her stupid jokes and her endearing weirdness.

i love that the themes of love persist through the second game even as it drags the franchise to darker places. that these are the lengths that ellie will go to not to get abby, but for joel. i love that part 2 says, "hey these bitches unhealthy" and that despite love being their motivation (abby for her dad, ellie & tommy for joel, dina for ellie, lev for his mother), it shouldn't be driving them to those ends!!!!

.....anyway for your second question, i'm picky about games but some recurring favs are apex legends, minecraft, breath of the wild, stardew valley, life is strange (watched the playthru only but loved the story sm), tell me why, and i just started horizon zero dawn! the way things are going, i think i'll like it a lot :)

[loveisnotovertae]

Love is Not Over

✏️Taehyung x OFC ✏️Friends to Lover AU 🛑 Rated 18+ 📖WC:2306 ⚠️Mentally abusive and controlling ex, stalking, mention of anxiety cheating, COVID, drinking, drunk hookup, masturbation, oral, accidental marriage, accidental pregnancy⚠️

Mae always wanted to go to South Korea and visit all the places her Aunt and Uncle used to tell her stories about. So after catching her fiancè cheating, she did just that. Her two month trip turned into a permanent stay thanks to covid lockdown. A friendly neighbor turned best friend, who just so happened to be part of the biggest music group in the world. A drunken night that changed her life forever.

Chapter 16

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Mae jumped and squealed when Taehyung’s raspy voice broke through the quiet dark hotel room. 

She placed her hand over her beating heart and put her head on the table, “Jesus, Tae. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung snickered and picked up his phone. “Mae, it’s five in the morning. Come back to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” she said, putting her phone back into place so that she could use its light. “You should go back to sleep though. You’re the one who sang and danced on stage for hours. And you need your rest for tonight.”

“You are tired. Even from across the room I can see that.” Taehyung sighed, turning on the lamp beside her.

“Why did you turn on the light?” she poked out her bottom lip and pouted while he sat in the chair next to her.

“The dim light from your screen isn’t enough for whatever it is that you are doing.” Taehyung scrunched his eyebrows when he saw the piles of candy, photocards and other trinkets. “What are you doing?”

Mae went back to her sorting, ignoring the amusement in his voice. “I’m going through all the freebies that ARMY gave me at the concert.”

“Why…why do most of these have Jin on them?” he asked, sifting through the cards.

“Because he’s my bias.”

“I’m the one who you married, shouldn’t I be your bias?”

“Drunkenly married and nope.”

Taehyung put a piece of candy in his mouth and continued to look over the stuff on the table as Mae sorted. One of his eyebrows shot up in curiosity when she quickly put a card on the bottom of the pile.

“What was that?”

Mae slapped his hand away when he tried to move the other cards to see it. “Nothing. Shouldn’t you be going back to bed?”

“I will in a little bit. Now what are you hiding?” This time he was quicker and grabbed her wrist, stopping her hand. “Is this a shirtless edit of me?” he asked, examining the card. “What does it say on the back?” Taehyung squinted, trying to read the english, on the back.

Mae pulled her arm away from him and went back to her task. “This wrecker can wreck me anytime.”

Taehyung choked on his saliva, “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“If you think it’s implying that they want to be fucked senseless by their wrecker, then yes.”

“Am I your wrecker?”

“No, Yoongi’s my wrecker. But my three best friends thought it would be funny to give me the bag with your card in it.”

“I’m not sure if I believe that.” Taehyung said, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Tae, I’ve seen you shirtless plenty of times. You’re even shirtless right now,” she pointed.

“Is that why you haven’t looked at me longer than two seconds?” 

She could tell he had a grin on his face without even looking. “That’s one of the reasons, yes.” She said truthfully.

“One of the reasons? What’s the other reason?”

Mae sighed as she sat back in her chair and made eye contact with him. “While I was laying in bed trying to sleep I got to thinking. And the more I thought, the urge to become a petty bitch grew inside of me.”

“Well that’s a side of you I’ve never seen before.” 

“Tyler found out about the annulment and about what happened in Jeju, which means he weaseled his way into somebody's trust. Knowing him, he’s sitting somewhere with a drink in hand and a stupid grin on his face. He thinks he won. He thinks he’s made the world around me crash like I did his.”

Taehyung held up a finger, stopping her. “You’re not the one who made his world crash. It was his own fucking fault.” he said and then motioned for her to continue.

“I want so badly to wipe that smile off his face.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Taehyung leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table.

“By showing him that this,” she motioned between the two of them, “wasn’t a drunken mistake.”

“But it was…”

“But he doesn’t need to know that. I want him to second guess everything he found out. I want him so pissed off about our happiness that he fucks up, worse than he already has.” Mae straightened up and placed her hands on the table.

“Say no more.” Taehyung said, standing up.

“What are you doing?” Mae watched in confusion as he walked to the bedside table and got his phone.

“I’m going to call my lawyer and tell him to get rid of the annulment.”

Mae ran over to him, stopping him from dialing the number. “Wait, are you sure you don’t want to discuss this more first or wait until we know more information? It was just a suggestion and a kind of fucked up one if you think about it.”

“Nope, no take backs. You said that you wanted to stay married to me. I understand what it involves and I’m ok with it.” Taehyung kissed Mae on the forehead causing her to stand frozen in shock. “Get some sleep, Wife. Tomorrow we start life as a happily married couple.” he said over his shoulder before entering the bathroom and closing the door.

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

Mae took a deep breath and gave her bodyguard a reassuring nod before the two of them stepped out from the safety of the backstage area and headed toward the suite where her friends were. Today, instead of coming to the venue with the women, she came with Taehyung and the other members. The pictures of her from last night were now all over the internet and everyone agreed it would be safer.

She and Taehyung were brought into an emergency meeting this morning to discuss everything Bighit had found out so far. The information they’d gathered was both good news and bad.

The pictures of Taehyung leaving the house were posted on a known stalkers site. The ones of Mae at the concert on the other hand took a little longer to find, but they ended up finding them all online posted by fan sites and ARMYs. They were one hundred percent sure Tyler hadn’t taken them.

The next set of information made Mae’s stomach drop. Tyler was in Seoul, he’d arrived the day after she landed in California. Which meant when he saw her at the airport he was on his way to South Korea. The asshole was a creature of habit and loved to post his travels on Instagram. Mae didn’t even know he had one, but the security team at the company was smart. When Jimin and Jungkook told them about the threats he made almost three years ago, they kept an eye on him, just in case he tried something. After Mae went to them for help, they became even more cautious of him.

Taehyung was storming out the door and on the phone with his father the moment the two of them were shown a picture of Tyler outside of Mae’s apartment building with the caption “Sorry I missed you.” The company reassured them that they’d checked the cameras and he didn’t get in. But that didn’t matter. Once Taehyung returned to the room he let the man on the screen know that his father would be calling in a few hours and he was going to need help moving Mae’s things out as soon as possible.

“I knew we should’ve moved you out when Jimin moved last year.” he huffed, closing the laptop.

“Tae, it wouldn’t have mattered. That address would’ve been leaked too.” Mae said, trying to calm him down some. Him being upset wasn’t helping her nerves any. Just the thought of there being a chance she could’ve run into Tyler if she hadn’t left for California made her want to vomit.

Taehyung leaned his head back and let out a frustrated sigh, “What does this asshole want?”

“He wants me scared, he wants me to come back begging for him to stop.”

“I wasn’t…” Taehyung’s features softened when he turned his head to look at her.

“I know,” Mae placed her hand on his shoulder and stood up, “You weren’t intending for it to be an actual question. But I needed to say it outloud for myself.”

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

The women once again left early, but this time it was to avoid the crowd. They were taken through a private exit where an SUV was waiting to take them to a restaurant where they would celebrate the two successful shows with the guys and some of the crew.

“I’m calling it now,” Veronica handed Mae her phone so that she could use the camera to fix her makeup. “Because of this plan, the two of you will find yourselves tangled in the sheets very soon.”

Mae rolled her eyes and tried to keep the phone steady as the car moved. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because there is already this massive ball of sexual energy between the two of you. And if you two are going to play husband and wife, it’s going to eventually pop.”

“She’s right, Mae. I don’t think you realized just how much more physical the two of you are actually going to have to be when coming up with this plan,” Kimberleigh piped in from the back seat.

“Or emotional,” D added, “You’ll have to let your guard down. All those feelings you’ve had for him-”

“I don’t have feelings for him,” Mae protested, cutting her off.

D snorted, “Okay, just keep telling yourself that. But in order for Tyler or anyone else to believe it, they need to see the emotional and physical connection you both have.”

“So, no more death stares or avoiding,” Veronica said, pointing her brush at Mae. “Tae is going to enjoy the hell out of this,” she laughed. “If he holds your hand, you hold it back. If he puts his arm around you, don’t you dare smack that man.”

Mae tossed Veronica’s phone in her lap when they pulled up to the restaurant. She knew what this plan would involve when she made it. She knew she was going to have to put down all her walls and let her true feelings for him show. But she was scared. Mae knew that Taehyung wouldn’t intentionally hurt her. But even after three years, the scars from Tyler were still fresh. Deep in her brain the warning sign with ‘all men are just like Tyler’ was still flashing its bright red letters.

The women followed behind Mae’s bodyguard as the hostess led them to their tables.

“Good evening, ladies.” Namjoon greeted them.

“How the hell did you beat us here? We left while you were still on stage.” A confused Veronica asked.

“We had your driver take the long way.”

“You’re such a smart man, Mr. Kim Namjoon.” Veronica said, making everyone laugh when she pinched his cheek.

“Why don’t we all have a seat so we can eat?” 

Mae's eyes found Taehyung who was standing next to the table with his hand out for her. She rolled her eyes and chuckled at his gesture before taking his hand.

“You really are enjoying this aren’t you?” she asked.

Taehyung pulled her close making it look like he was placing a kiss on her temple, “The person who took the pictures of me leaving the house is here,” he whispered.

Mae turned her head to look at him, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, she’s the one in the light blue dress by herself.” Mae glanced in the direction that he nodded. Five tables away was indeed a woman wearing a light blue dress with her phone perfectly placed so that it pointed at their table. “She somehow found out we were coming here.” Taehyung cupped Mae’s cheek and brought her attention back to him. “A member of our security already talked to the manager, but they wont do anything about it because she’s a paying customer.”

“So act like she’s not here? And put on our best acting skills?”

Taehyung’s smile grew and he kissed her on the forehead. “It’s time to act like you’re madly in love with me.”

“She’s already madly in love with you.”

The two of them turned their attention to Kimberleigh who was standing behind Mae.

“Is she now?” Taehyung’s voice was full of amusement.

“I am not.”

Kimberleigh rolled her eyes. “You are too. Now will you both please sit down? I’m starving and you’ve got a show to put on.”

This time it was Mae who grabbed Taehyung’s hand and pulled him into the booth with her. The remainder of the party strategically sat around the table, giving the stalker as little view of the couple as possible.

Mae laughed when she looked up from her menu and caught a glance of the woman over Hoseok’s shoulder. She looked angry as she moved her phone around, trying to get the perfect angle again.

As the evening went on Mae found it easier to relax and let her flirty side take over after a couple glasses of wine. It didn’t faze her when Taehyung put his hand on her leg, mindlessly rubbing her thigh while they chatted away with their friends.

However, just as everyone was ordering dessert, when Taehyung put his arm around Mae’s shoulder and leaned across her to talk to D, Mae realized just how much effect he was having on her body. She found herself taking in his features, she could feel her heart beginning to race and her breathing grow heavier. Taehyung must’ve felt the change in her too, because before he moved away he looked at her with a flirtatious smile.

[nico-nico-suavecito]

Trans Year of Gratitude

Despair mitigation in the face of unceasing tragedy - a reflection on the last year following the Club Q shooting.

One year ago on Trans Day of Remembrance, I was scheduled to speak at my friend’s church about the nonprofit I work for. I was going to talk about queer joy and trans youth and all the work the church has supported us in doing. Then, I was going to pick up my partner and we were going to drive to Phoenix to visit my chosen family there, with a stop in Santa Fe.

I woke up that morning to a deluge of text messages and notifications, asking me if I was okay. I couldn’t tell you which headline first crossed my vision that finally pieced it all together. Just the flash of words. Club Q. Shooting. Injured. Dead.

In the months before this, I’d been in a state of trans revelry. I was back on testosterone. I was experimenting with self-expression and letting myself be the alt boy I never got to be in high school. My friends and I were going out dancing each week. I’d just entered a T4T relationship and was head over heels in love. I’d just restarted the queer open mics in October after a covid hiatus and was excited for them to be a regular event again.

I still went to church that Sunday morning, for possibly the first time in years. I struggled to be present — I kept scouring social media for news, reading my friends statuses and comments. “Has anyone heard from…” “Can someone confirm if they’re safe…”

I still went up to speak. Through tears, I wondered at our holidays. Trans Day of Visibility. Trans Day of Remembrance. I felt so much rage, the kind of rage that is love at its fiercest. We deserve better holidays than this. We deserve trans days of joy, and love, and everything beyond survival.

When I sat back down in the pew, I opened my phone. I saw that Daniel, who had been to my house multiple times for hair cuts and parties and who I admired as an out and proud trans man in our community, was gone.

I broke down in the pews. As the congregation sung “We Are the Ones” by Sweet Honey in the Rock, I started to write a wishlist of everything I wanted for trans people instead of what we were given. I wished us everything from bleeding bigots to coffee in bed with those we love. That’s how trans day of i love you was written.

That day, as people were sharing my post to their story, I started collecting people’s additions to the poem because they gave me hope and gratitude.

On the way to Phoenix, my partner Brin and I cried, wondered at the future that was feeling ever more uncertain, and we sang at the top of our lungs with Say Anything - Alive! Alive! Alive with love!

That night, when we made love in a Santa Fe hostel, I felt a certain urgency. Life felt so precious, so fleeting. I wanted to devour her. I wanted to be swallowed up by beauty.

She woke up the next morning with a cough and chills. One positive covid test and a six hour drive later, and we were back in Colorado Springs.

Like last year, I am in my house today, quarantining because of covid. This time, it’s been near impossible to find a PCR test to confirm it. My rapid test was negative, as it often has been when I’ve had covid. Still, in trying to keep my community safe, I can’t go to any memorials. I’m writing this instead.

In the months following, I was often asked, in interviews, by allies, in loaded how are yous, about how things are for queer people in Colorado Springs in the aftermath of Club Q. Whether things were better now that Colorado Springs has double the rainbow flags on display than it once had.

I think people want to hear that things are better. Increased support for the queer community in the aftermath would help our human desire for life to have a narrative in which tragedy serves a greater purpose. But it doesn’t. People are dead who should not be dead. They should be here, living their lives, with countless moments of joy before them. People are alive and still suffering their wounds, both physical and mental, with insufficient support. The needs of survivors have been buried beneath greed. Queer- and transphobia continues to be alive and well.

I don’t go dancing without knowing the emergency exits. Hiring security is now an essential part of hosting queer open mic, and this precaution is also salt in the wound.

What I can also say is that this community is so strong. The queer people of Colorado Springs continue to organize, fight, and live with a vibrancy that inspires me every day. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.

Still, following Club Q, the world feels more uncertain than ever. It’s an uncertainty that’s been growing — long before Q, long before covid, long before Trump.

It’s hard to look at the shooting in a vacuum. After all, every piece of anti-trans legislation that was introduced this year feels like salt in the wound that Club Q tore open. How can anyone heal when every day there is a new headline about a new group of people who want to legislate against you and people like you.

These years have begged so many questions, questions that many people in this country have been asking for decades: What does America hold in store for us? This country that cares so little for all its people that it would feed them to the maw of capitalism, a hungry god that can never be satiated? A country that let us down to the tune of one million covid deaths and counting? A country that shows time and time again how little it cares for the most vulnerable, with every mass shooting, every piece of anti-trans legislation, every new covid case, every instance of police brutality against people of color, every gallon of petroleum that will push us over nature’s tipping point, every dollar funding the genocide of Palestinians?

Recently, a friend of mine posted on Facebook asking how anyone can feel any peace and joy in the world these days.

I’ve spent the majority of this year trying to figure that out after years of burnout that, despite the fact that I have so much to be thankful for, had embedded a deep exhaustion in me that left me often anhedonic and withdrawn from, not only the world, but myself as well. I worried that this exhaustion would mean the end of my life-long career in activism and organizing at best, and the ultimate succumbing to despair at worst.

I am a person prone to despair, and have been since I was a kid. Not just sadness, but despair — a helpless emotion, a sadness without hope. I’ve always taken the world very personally. The first time I met depression and suicidality were in middle school when I watched An Inconvenient Truth. This started a year-long spiral, during which I was convinced that human beings were parasites destroying this earth, and as a human being, there was no way I could logically justify my existence. Despair has accompanied me since, even when I eventually realized that people are capable of immense love and beauty, and that the real drain on this earth is capitalistic greed and fascism.

I want to share here what has helped me as the case for despair has only continued to grow, in the hopes that it may offer a way forward for those who, like me, struggle at times to get out of bed, and who feel like they are often at the precipice of being consumed by said despair. And, as with everything I write, this is also a series of reminders to myself, as knowledge doesn’t always equal practice. I have been in a very despair-forward place lately, so I am hoping I might course correct myself in writing this all out.

I believe the three prophylactics against paralyzing despair are gratitude, hope, and action. I believe them to be three sisters unified in a dance, their chalices held to the air in service of joy. When I speak of joy, I don’t speak of the mythology of capital-H-Happy. I don’t think there is such a destination. I think of joy as a tool of resistance. I think of it as that which fuels us forward, in even the darkest of times.

If I am to continue to be an engaged and active resistor against that which seeks to annihilate all of us - corporate greed, bigotry, fascism, I can't be overcome by despair, despite being very prone to despair, as I've been for as long as I can remember. In that way, joy serves a vital purpose in the revolution.

Gratitude is a muscle I am trying to work out every day. I think we owe it to this world, this world that continues to be so full of beauty, despite all of the terrible things that happen within it, to try and be grateful for what is here and good right now. These moments — my boyfriend bringing me coffee in bed, the bird stopping by my bird feeder, sitting on the dock of the lake by my house, every time I go out dancing at the gay bar and nothing bad happens — these moments feel more precious than ever. I try to savor them, despite the knowledge that 1. terrible things are happening or can happen at all times, and 2. these good moments are likely to become more and more scarce for all of us if fascism and climate change progress at the rate they are. If I become overcome by despair with this knowledge, the reserves of my hope go unfilled and I can’t be of service to this world. So, I have to be grateful. I have to savor what’s good.

Gratitude also provides the foundation of hope. Hope is an intentional choice, and not one made easily.

“People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider webs. It’s not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.” — Tweet by Crowsfault

Without hope, there is nothing to fight for. There is nothing to build toward. We have to have a vision of what can be. So many forces seek to take imagination from us, but we have to be able to imagine the future we want to build, not just the systems we want to dismantle. Admittedly, my imagination isn’t what it used to be — chronic stress has weakened it, but the gratitude that I am present with helps rebuild my imagination of what could be.

I am grateful when I see my trans friends happy and safe. What if all trans people got to be happy and safe. What if we could live their lives without an ounce of fear. What if we got to dance with abandon, without thinking of the emergency exits.

I am grateful when I see my trans friends have access to gender affirming health care. What if all trans people had access to gender affirming health care. What if it was free, and easy to access. What if that was the case for all health care for everyone.

I am grateful when I get to be in nature and feel how I am part of it, how I am, in the words of Alan Watts, “the universe experiencing itself.” What if we all felt that way. What if we all realized we create ourselves in the forge of how we love the world around us.

I am grateful for the organizers, the activists, the changemakers, the artists. What if the world was guided by people like them, people who lead with such a fierce love?

When I feel overcome by dread, it is their words that buoy me. One poem I return to often is Ross Gay’s “Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude.” If I go outside and listen to it and watch the birds, and the clouds, and the people pass by, I can mainline enough hope into me that I can at least do what must be done. Work. Love the people I love. Create. Organize and advocate. If I’m lucky, there will be enough beautiful things that happen that day that I can find more gratitude and hope to keep me going.

Hope and gratitude would be empty platitudes without action, the truest triumph over despair. I think that we all have roles to play in this world inundated with pain. I think we as a community are in the process of learning the power of our voices. The ways that we can amplify gratitude, and hope, and action in all we do, all we share, all we write, all we create.

I have started to see it as a cycle. Act. Act until you must rest and remind yourself of a future you can hope toward to motivate you. If you can’t envision a future you can hope for, be intentional in being grateful for what is so that you can see what can be. If you need to be reminded of what is, seek and create moments in your life that kindle the flames of your gratitude.

I say all this, and still, there are some weeks I can barely leave my bed. I always try my best, but my best isn’t what it used to be. But I have to try and try and keep trying. And gratitude, hope, and action, however foolish and futile they might feel at times, are the best ways I’ve found to try right now, so that we might be able to continue to fight like hell for the people we love, both dead and alive.

P.S. A note for you, reader. I am grateful you’re here. What if the world had more people like you? What would be possible then?

[marcianoliterati]

# A MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING ADAPTATION WHERE THEY'RE STUCK TOGETHER DUE TO COVID LOCKDOWNS,BORED AF, AND ON THEIR PHONES 247.

A SOCIAL MEDIA AU. SORT OF.

claudio benedict pedro and tagalong little brother john are roadtripping

italy.

they pay a visit to their old friends' parents house, where hero and

beatrice are also holidaying.

hero and claudio have been heavily flirting online

beatrice and benedict have been fighting online for like a decade,

basically since they met

everyone who follows them but doesnt know them irl thinks it's just a

game and that they're actually dating

all of them are online but none of them are big influencers or anything,

no one has more than 5k followers

and their followers beyond friends and family dont even cross that much

they all post about different things outside of life stuff

only beatrice and benedict intersect, theyre the only ones who have a

lot of different active accounts and they follow each other on every

single one, from like lj to fb to tumblr to twitter to insta to tiktok,

they even regularly show up in each other's reddit posts for the sole

purpose of disagree,most of the time, theyre not even in the same

subreddits or fandoms

but their spats are amusing and a few bits have gone viral before.

but then you get a lot of late-twenty something stuck together, and

posting all the time, reviving somewhat dormant account, it's like an

impromptu accidental reality show

at first its just like games, from tag and hide and seek to passionate

games of uno and clue,tours of the place, building shit, improvising

stuff, and theyre constantly posting little snippets, and so on

benedict and beatrice both post the same thing like "worst person to get

stuck with" and at first people thing they went on holiday together but

now theyre just stuck at like a villa the parents rented

"oh so you just met up while on holiday. riiiiiiiight"

they keep posting, complaining about dumb shit the other is one, about

their disgustingly in love with friends, and so on.

their friends also post clips of them arguing, like during games where

theyre always rivals,and others of them always seeking each other out

a new account pops up something like beadick updates or something, that

takes the time of trawling through all the accounts to post compilations

and builds a bit of a timeline of them through the years

then a different account pops up that start sending them personal

videos, clearly some of their friends having fun

they also post about the group discussing b&b (crucially hidden from

them)

and later both bea and ben hearing the others discussing them and how

they react

cue compilations like "no women will ever tempt me" next to "but it bea

wants me im down" and ben dissing bea next to talking her up after, same

for bea.

it goes like that for a bit

the leak continues posting them acting awkward around each other, trying

to argue then running away, spying on the other,trying to do something

nice while seeming like they dont care

then theres some event theyve organised

a lot of posts of everyone looking nice

a few of people drinking

and then a livestream of dancing is interrupted by a lot of shouting the

sound of stuff breaking and what seems like a physical fight

and then everyone goes quiet

then it switches

the audience, which had been steadily growing, is left in the dark, the

fourth wall is broken when they decide to reach in and find out what the

hell is going on.

someone hacks the complex's cctv

the updates account posts different bits, claudio having a huge jealous

tantrum and starting a fight, hitting hero in the process

then b&b left alone in the garden, with confessions of love to follow

and then shouting and storming off "i will cut his heart out with a

spoon!"

"for you, i will defy covid and the goverment" promises ben before

leaving

the others try to pack and leave, but are stopped and so they hide in a

small cabin on the edge of the property, where they start drinking

it is there where ben finds them, smashes the bottles and dares them to

make it right or he will reign fire on them

claudio laughs at first going "but why is the rum gone?????!"

but then he gets actually worried

the audience witness this via cctv, they see ben through the grounds,

finding the cabin,hear the smashing and shouting

then they start looking back seeing if there is any back footage or if

its been deleted.

it hasnt

they find a treasure trove

not knowing how to contact them discreetly,beadick updates posts a video

of little brother john discussing sabotage plans with some minions and

they tag every account

the cctv is only outside for privacy reasons so they only know it worked

when they see john making a run for it, trying to climb the walls, being

caught by claudio and beaten before john pulls him off

then everyone reunites outside, when they see them coming up

hero goes up to john and hits him, then she goes up to claudio and does

the same

she spits at pedro and calls him a coward

claudio falls on his knees and begs for forgiveness

but she tells him he's clearly not worth her trust or love

everyone is feeling hurt and sore and not sure where to go now

pedro steps up and apologises

he shouldve known better than to trust anything john says, he's always

loved stirring up trouble for no reason

and they shouldve come to her not make a huge deal and ruin everything

claudio also apologises but more begrudginly, same as john

as they all just sort of stand there, their phones ping

and so pedro goes 'hey whats the deal with the video? who found it?"

before anyone gets an answer someone checks and gasps

the audience, stirring shit up, sends the video of them all plotting to

get b&b together, and laughing as they talked it all up

"so you do not love me? it was all a ruse?"

they both accuse each other and then turn to their friends, who in turn

took to look at the cameras in suspcion

their phones ping again. only b&b's first, which makes them both put on

pained faces of "what now?"

so then everyone's faces ping

it's a video compilation of b&b doing nice things for the other in

secret

bea spent an afternoon learning to make ben's favourite biscuits, and

then just left them in the kitchen for him to find

ben spent forever tracking something bea forgot, and then hiding it in

her room to make it look like it was just temporarily misplaced

bea finding ben's favourite movie and casually engineering things for a

watchalong

ben coming up with a thousand different ways to distract bea whenever

she starts to look sad or worried

they all watched, as it dawns on them that a) apparently, theyve had an

audience this whole time

and b)it was never a ruse

b&b were always in love, just too afraid or stubborn or emotionally

constipated to do anything about it

so hero turns to bea and goes "all this time? what the hell happened

between you two?"

beatrice and benedict look at each other and just shrug

"it doesnt matter. we're here now"

they kiss

beadick updates posts a playlist of several hours on yt featuring their

whole story, with videos of them as teens, shyly flirting, to a lot of

screenshots and clips of them arguing online, to the whole saga in

italy, ending in their big kiss

as an epilogue, the two post a video of them in the airport, they thank their audience, and say now they can travel so they will be going off together

[infjinthecity]

Zhang Yixing: Grandline4, Shanghai (August 2024)

Four very short days after I arrived in China, I left Hangzhou where I’m living and got on a bullet train to Shanghai. Thinking back, it was insane of me to do this. There was so much I had to organize before I started work, but this was an opportunity of a lifetime. I had been trying to get tickets to Grandline 4 quite literally anywhere in the world, but none of the dates worked with my moving schedule. I felt like the only Beiker on planet earth that was going to miss this concert series. Then, a couple of weeks before my departure from Australia, in a very China-esque fashion, but especially typical of his studio, they dropped dates and ticket sales for Shanghai. It was his last stop on the Grandline tour for 2024, so it was going to be like the Hunger Games trying to get tickets.

Fortunately, I have an army of awesome women around me in this fandom and with their help, I was able to secure tickets for BOTH Shanghai dates. I was also fortunate enough to see him when he headlined Metamoon in New York City while I was living there but he was only on stage for 45 minutes, and it wasn’t his show. Besides, everyone knows Zhang Yixing in China is superior so I was simply dying to see him on his home turf.

And oh my god, he did not disappoint.

I joined the fandom after finding him on Street Dance of China Season 3. I showed up for Yibo but left with an obsession for the introverted Krump King of China. I fell in the Yixing hole back then and I have no desire to climb out – haha! But when I joined the fandom back then, and actually since then as well, it seemed that Yixing was moving through the world with an unhealthy amount of melancholy. Maybe it’s just me, but for so long all he was talking about was how lonely he was, his age, and his fears about his unrealized dreams. Now I understand that right after I joined his fandom COVID hit and many people around the world fell into a massive slump, but it was more than that with him. It seeped into every live stream he did, every interview, and his song lyrics became about these feelings, and it painted his face for a few years.

Well, after being in Shanghai, I think the collective agreement among fans is, that version of Zhang Yixing seems gone. His body is super healthy, and it’s obvious he’s done work on his mental health and the way in which he looks at the world in front of him. He radiates joy and happiness, and it is an absolute blessing to witness. It was unexpected, but his happiness and his contentedness eminates off of him. His smile is full and genuine. It was, hands down, my favourite part of both dates. I am so thankful I got to see him like that and I really hope that whatever he’s doing, he continues to do more of it!

I made it all the way through night one and almost all the way through night two before the tears started. He closed the second night with Breathe and if you follow me on other socials you will know I’ve been screaming about this song since he dropped it. It speaks to my heart and soul right now and I feel like he wrote it about me. Isn’t it funny how music can touch us like that? Anyway, the opening beats of Breathe started and I couldn’t hold my tears in. The Chinese auntie next to me chuckled at me, but it’s fine!

I really hope I get the chance to see him in China again. Shanghai was the last stop for 2024 as he’s focusing more on his stage and screen performances for now but music is his life so I’m sure there will inevitably be more shows next year.

A quick shoutout to his studio. I know as a fandom we tend to collectively and loudly shit all over the incompetence of his staff, but they really came through for me and my friend on night one. We were sitting in different sections (like everyone in China does) and she was much further away from the stage than me. We asked security if my friend could come through to my section and take some close up photos, but they weren’t having it. Someone from Yixing’s staff saw the exchange, clocked that we were both foreigners, and came to our rescue. He made a call and escorted us down to the barrier for photo ops. It was so nice of them, and it made our night – especially for my friend who wouldn’t have had the chance for such photos otherwise. So we’re on a no-ragging-on-studio kick – FOR NOW!

If you ever get the chance to see this wonderful soul in the flesh, don’t hesitate. He is worth every single dollar I spent on tickets – and I spent a loooottttttt.

I love him I love him I love him I love him. Probably not a normal amount, but that’s okay.

I have lots of videos from both nights but Tumblr only lets you upload one video per post so I'm dropping the video in question that brought on all the tears.

Till next time, peace!