#and an interviewer pulls up this blown up photo of one of them

[tennessoui]

what do yall think of a modern au where like. anakin and obi-wan are hired to be extras in the background of a sitcom, and they're paired together to talk at a restaurant/bar while the main characters have drama in the foreground of the scene

but the star actors keep messing up their lines and the scene keeps needing to be reset, so anakin and obi-wan start actually talking while they're waiting for the cameras to turn back on, and there's obviously a lot of instant attraction but also a lot of their talking is about like...the backstory behind their characters (as extras), and each take they decide to do something a little different to see which one can make the other one laugh more

so one take they go in for a hug instead of a hand shake when anakin arrives, another take they're playing footsie under the table the entire time (even if the cameras can't see it), another take, they're mouthing very obvious corny love confessions across the table, and then during what turns out to be the last take, anakin walks onto the set and greets obi-wan with a kiss on his mouth before they sit down to talk

except it's not talking after that, it's just obi-wan sitting there bug-eyed and mouth open, blush blooming across his face

[liknws]

skz & introducing you to the others

⎯⎯ PAIRING: stray kids x reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: fluff, tiny bit of angst, just cute shit ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety, lmk if i missed any

CHAN

absolutely the least subtle of the group

sure the rest of skz knows that he's seeing someone but they respect that he hasn't brought you around the chaos yet

it's not until he name drops you when half asleep do the rest of the boys start teasing him

instantly regrets speaking and tries to bury himself in the couch to hide from the jokes

he'll bring it up to you eventually, almost nervously

"so i was thinking, it's time you met the other's" and you're supportive of the idea. only ever wanted to do things at his pace

you can't hide that you're just as nervous to meet them because if they don't like you what's to say that won't stop the relationship?

thankfully they like you and are welcoming to you when you come by for dinner

seungmin jokingly calls you "mom" one day and now they won't stop with the parent jokes

next step is introducing you to the world but the boys are protective and help keep your relationship private

(they go to ridiculous lengths to make this happen and at one point you have to convince them that JYP knows about you and no one is breaking rules, just that you want to stay out of the public eye for now while you can)

MINHO

you were more nervous meeting his cats (who love you by the way and you get daily pictures of the three from his parents)

oh yeah, you met his parents too and they loved you

he wasn't reluctant to introduce you to skz but he wasn't making it happen fast either. "the longer i can keep you to myself, the better" was always his excuse and you don't argue because it's true

stay ends up learning about you first (by accident) when you're visiting his parents and he posts a photo of you cuddled asleep with the cats

he did it without thinking, just captioning it something vague and cute on the official instagram

chan takes it down quickly but not fast enough and there are already screenshots

you end up meeting the rest of them through video call when chan calls minho to tell him what happened

once it's clear you're not upset at all, you're invited (read: demanded) to the dorms to meet the rest of them when the break is over

minho pretends to grumble that his perfect secret is blown and that he's going to have to share you now because they'll all love you

spoiler alert: he was right

CHANGBIN

i don't think this man knows the meaning of subtle or private if a dictionary was thrown at him

the second you two make anything official he's asking you to come by the dorms and hang out, to come with him to the gym when he's home to spend more time with him

he can't get enough of being around you and that translates to the rest of skz knowing about you pretty early on

the hard part is keeping your relationship private from people outside of the group

he has almost name dropped you so many times during interviews or tours that it's becoming a running joke among the boys who is on "binnie's big mouth duty" that night

it takes the whole group to keep him from saying something that would give you two away

HYUNJIN

while chan and changbin might be the least subtle, hyunjin is easy to tell something has changed

he's singing certain songs with more energy

his personal instagram posts are very boyfriend coded but he doesn't really say or do anything specific

there's a lot of speculation that he might be seeing someone

you're actually the one to blow it

you were just going to drop something off in the dorm while everyone was at practice (he'd cleared it with security and you had your own code specifically for visits without him)

what you didn't expect was han standing in the kitchen half dressed and a tooth brush in his mouth

he screamed, you screamed, he screamed again, security came to the rescue

you're trying to explain who you are until you pull out your phone and call your boyfriend

"han is here and i scared him and now security is kicking me out i just wanted to leave you a present on your bed im so sorry"

you have to switch to video call to prove that you're talking to hyunjin and that yes, you're his s/o and allowed to be there so security lets you back in with apologies

safe to say you don't do the surprise visits in case you give jisung another heart attack

JISUNG

when i say this boy was stressed about it, he was stressed out by you meeting his friends

you had teased him endlessly about how his true soulmate is minho and he's kind of scared that once you meet them you'll think you're not good enough and leave him

so it takes a lot of talks to get him okay with introducing his favorite person in the world to them

you suggest that instead of meeting them all at once to do it one-by-one in whatever order is the most comfortable with him

which makes you wonder if you're going to meet minho first or last

you're surprised however when you meet him first and ji is anxious the whole time

until both you and minho reassure him that it's okay and that because you and him love jisung that why wouldn't they get along

and you do (so much that minho is almost your bff) which is a relief to him

you end up meeting chan and changbin last which you realize is because of how much he really respects their opinions

he's still a little anxious sometimes when you hang out with the whole of skz at once, fearing that the chaos will chase you off but he realizes he has nothing to worry about when you feed that chaos

FELIX

you two made a whole plan of how to introduce you to the rest of the guys

mostly because you wanted it to go perfectly even if he assured you it would no matter what

he helps you get into the dorms right after everyone has left so you can set up snacks and games to have a game night and get to know everyone

he was supposed to be the first one through the door so when you almost throw yourself at changbin instead of your boyfriend you're mortified

they don't let you live that down but it was an effective way to break the ice and it gets everyone laughing right away

the small hiccup passed, you're trying to impress the others as much as you can because you know they mean so much to felix

chan eventually gets you alone in the kitchen to ask if you're okay and you confess in one breath how anxious you are for them to like you

chan assures you that no one could hate you, you're basically felix in another person and they can all see how he looks at you

another situation where the boys are super protective of you two and your privacy, helping to keep you out of public eye as much as possible

SEUNGMIN

literally no one knew this man was seeing anyone until you just showed up to the dorm one day?

truly one of those types who has the private life thing down and while he shares most of his life with skz, he hasn't ever shared your existence with them

that was an agreement you both came to when things were getting serious and you two like having this whole separate life with each other away from everyone else

they're all confused who he's invited to dinner (he's been so picky about the foods and made sure that only your favorites are made)

truly no one knew about you at all, he wasn't any different but when you're around there is a whole other side of seungmin that the boys are shocked by

until you roast him just as hard as he does the others and oh now they see why you two are perfect for each other

they're not really convinced you two are together until you kiss him goodnight at the door and when he turns around he's so pink in the face and biting his lips to keep from smiling

you two are probably the only ones that are able to keep your relationship out of the public eye for so long until seungmin drops one day that he's a dad?????

JEONGIN

he loves teasing about your existence to the others

like you're aware of what he's doing and you think it's funny

"oh just texting my s/o" like the most casual sentence ever that leaves everyone just looking around confused

never once says your name but will bring you up anytime it's natural

he does this so much and it's so normal that he does it on stage during their unscripted part and it takes too long to realize what happened

seungmin realizes first and starts laughing, telling the others while jeongin realizes what he did

you two have talked about revealing your relationship for a long time but the teasing of it was too much fun

so you end up being introduced to skz at the same time that stay learns about you

(you were backstage at the show with the staff. after clearing the idea with staff, you're dragged out on stage hand-in-hand with jeongin)

to say the boys flip when they realize it's you is ridiculous because you've been on so many schedules and shows that they never realized you were right under their nose

that was part of the fun of it to you two but even with that part over you two will still find ways to tease the members together

[the-offside-rule]

Lando Norris (McLaren) - Did She? Ft. Oscar Piastri

Requested: yes

Prompt: 44) "Give me another chance."

Warnings: angst, rivalry (which is fictional), sad ending

Lando had stormed into the paddock, frustration etched across his face and rage very evident in his eyes. Oscar however, followed, a smug grin playing on his lips. The press had been around them, taking photos and undeniably thinking of the catchy headlines they would be using for their insufferable articles. They quickly made their way into the McLaren hospitality. "What the hell was that, Oscar?" Lando snapped, trying to keep his voice down in an attempt to not attract too much attention. "Relax, Lando. It's just racing." Oscar replied, his tone nonchalant. "Just racing? You practically pushed me off the track!" Lando retorted, his eyes blazing with anger. Oscar chuckled. "Well, maybe you shouldn't be so easy to push around." He patted his teammates back. Lando pushed the Australian's hand away.

A few of the mechanics stood up in case they needed to intervene. "Maybe don't be a dick and just admit you had to cheat to stop me from passing!" Oscar arched a brow. "I mean, I had to fend of Y/n too. I don't-" Oscar noticed how Lando's face had changed once he mentioned the Aston Martin driver. Oscar chuckled. "Is this because Y/n chose me over you, mate?" Oscar smirked, knowing he had hit a nerve. "No. This is about you pushing me off the track."

Y/n and Lando had been insepersble the whole winter break and then suddenly once testing had begun, Oscar swooped in and took her. It annoyed Lando but considering him and Y/n agreed there wasn't anything going further than their winter fling, he had hoped it would turn into a spring fling and then a full blown relationship. "Well sorry Lando. I just don't believe you. I think it's over the fact that Y/n chose me."

"Did she?" He had practically squared up to his teammate now. The pair had been glaring at one another. Oscar raised an eyebrow, reveling in the opportunity to provoke his rival further. "Oh, she did. Believe me, she did." Lando clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain his composure. "It didn't seem like that last weekend mate, but whatever you think."

Oscar leaned in, his grin widening. "Sure, Lando. Keep telling yourself that." As the pit of jealousy grew deeper, Lando couldn't help but question his feelings. Was it about the race or something more personal?

Y/n stood in the media pen, smiling and laughing away at her good result. "I mean, obviously I couldn't have done it without the team. I just think I was incredibly fortunateto have the McLarens both occupied with eachother. That way I could-"

"Hey, can I grab you for a minute?" Y/n jarred to see Lando marching towards her, looking both determined and angry. "Im in the middle of an interview-"

"I don't care. Come on." Y/n looked back between her PR manager and the interviewer but soon found herself being pulled along to somewhere a bit more private; in between trucks. "What's this about? Im a busy girl." Y/n asked, slightly concerned. "Did you choose Oscar over me for a reason?" He asked, his vulnerability exposed. "Really? You pulled me away to talk about Oscar?" Lando nodded. "Oh yeah, because I'm after nearly ripping his fucking head off. Now please, just answer me." Y/n sighed. "Lando, it's not about choosing. Relationships are complicated, and I can't be reduced to a prize to be won."

Lando looked at her in disbelief. "When did you become a prize? It was meant to just be us and that was it. A quiet winter fling." He protested. "Lando, it's April. The winter is long over. I thought you would have moved on." She walked away, leaving Lando to just watch her. "Can you give me another chance?" She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him, her expression a mix of sadness and rage. "Lando, I don't think we should have even started this." Lando's heart sank, and he swallowed hard, unable to mask the pain in his eyes. "Why? What did I do wrong?"

Y/n took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. "It's not about what you did wrong. It's about what I need." His brows furrowed, confusion evident in his eyes. "And what do you need that I can't give you?" Y/n hesitated before speaking, her words laced with regret. "I need someone who understands the pressures of this world, Lando. Someone who shares my passion for racing." He scoffed. "I am a driver. I share your passion, i understand the pressure. What more do you want from me?!" Y/n hesitated before answering. "I don't want anything from you! I like you, but I can't ignore the differences. Oscar and I, we just connect on a different level." Lando clenched his fists, the pain evident in his expression. "So, what, I wasn't enough for you?"

"It's not about you not being enough, Lando. It's about finding someone who complements me in a different way." Y/n explained, her voice tinged with regret. Lando scoffed, his disbelief turning into bitterness. "Complements you? Or is it just about the thrill of someone new?".Y/n looked away, unable to meet his accusing gaze. "Listen, dickhead. I ended it because I didn't want this from the start, I ended it when I did because I didn't want to hurt you!"

"But you did," Lando whispered, his voice filled with resignation. He wiped his eyes of the few tears that fell. Y/n reached to help, but he pushed her hand away. "Is he what you want, then?" Lando's voice cracked with emotion, his fear of the answer palpable. Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, her silence speaking volumes. "I don't know, Lando. But right now, he is." The words hung heavy in the air, sealing their fate with an unspoken finality. Lando's chest tightened with despair, his heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces. "I'll go." She wanted to reach for him, but she refrained. How could she stand there, denying her love for him then to turn around and grasp him.

As for Lando, in that moment, he knew that some wounds never truly healed, and some loves were destined to remain forever beyond grasp.

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Pierre/Yuki

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and I will remove it immediately, no questions asked. I have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop me a message🤍

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hi, anons. of course! i hope you enjoy these. 🫶🏻

it took me a ridiculously long time to find a photo for the header for this one, because of their height difference. lmao.

Sweet-tooth by @12romy | G | 2.6k Pierre keeps on finding sweet treats in his room. This story is very sweet (ha!) The author does such a great job of developing this lovely, warm atmosphere. I'm not sure I stopped smiling once during my read! They are certainly Idiots in Love here, and I love it. ❤️

'Summer break feels like it's missing something. Two things actually, the cakes, and Yuki. Especially Yuki.'

nsfw: I Feel Like I Exist For Love by @tinytauris | E | 3k Pierre comes to terms with the way he feels about Yuki. This is such a beautifully written story - almost like poetry, with a gorgeous flow that really suits the yearning and pining and overwhelming levels of love present in this fic. Just absolutely stunning!

'Other times he’ll make Yuki laugh, see the younger man tip his head back, and thinks I wish I could bottle up that sound, save it for when the world seems bleak'

nsfw: part-time soulmate, full-time problem by @mediumtyres | E | 3k Pierre feels jealous. I absolutely love the dynamic that the author has created here. Yuki has all of the control, and it is delicious. The push-pull here, the undercurrent of need and mutual desire that runs throughout - gorgeous, and such a pleasure to read.

'He looks like he’s been pulled out of a renaissance painting; plush lips bitten red raw, the indents his teeth had made just starting to fade; eyes blown wide, the black of his pupils completely swallowing the brown of his eyes; chest heaving, sweat starting to glisten in the early evening sun.'

nsfw: lay your bones down with me by @librasuncharles | E | 3.1k Yuki adjusts after Pierre's departure to Alpine. This fic is like a gut-punch. So beautifully written, and very real. The dynamic here is also fantastic - the teasing, the fondness, the obvious adoration that exists between them (even if that isn't necessarily obvious to them), contrasted with the circumstances and the reality of the situation. This fic stayed with me for a long time after I read it.

'“It’s been great,” Pierre says, finally. It’s funny; he can say all the words in the world about missing Yuki and whether they’ll still be friends next year to every interviewer in the paddock, but these are all the words they can say to each other.'

the alps by @grandprix-ao3 | T | 4.9k Yuki and Pierre adjust after Pierre's move to Alpine. No one does deep, soulful yearning like GP. There is an ache that runs throughout the entire fic, so visceral and intense that I felt it in my own chest. Beautifully done, as always.

'Yuki nods, though he’s not being paid attention to. He wonders, absently, if he had said something before, at some point, somewhere, if Pierre wouldn’t have signed the contract, if he would have stayed. It’s selfish, but he lets his mind go there, anyway.'

knowing i was beyond what could be recovered from by @milflewis | No Rating | 5.7k Pierre comes to terms with life on a team without Yuki. This story is gorgeous. The author weaves in so many beautiful details - Pierre's relationship with Esteban and Charles and Arthur, the frequent little touches between Yuki and Pierre, the glimpse into the future - and it all adds up to create the richest, most stunning story. The dialogue here is some of my favourite in the whole fandom. Truly - I could talk about this fic all day.

'Sometimes, Pierre used to spend longer than normal shaking hands and saying his goodbyes to the team, dragging it out, just to see if Yuki would wait for him. He always did. He wonders if Nyck is now doing the same.'

wingman by @riccardont | T | 6.8k (wip) Yuki and Pierre are roommates at college. This fic is hilarious. The author captures their voices absolutely perfectly, and the humour always, always hits. One thing that I love about this author's writing is their dialogue - it is so easy to read and flows so well, and it's just so fun. I love this fic, and can't wait to read more!

'Pierre almost feels bad for disappointing him. Almost. Probably because it feels like disappointing his grandma.'

nsfw: Set fire to the rain by @housepandacrimes | T | 8.9k Yuki and Pierre are detectives - Pierre is recalled to his old unit after his replacement is found dead. This fic is hilarious, hot, beautifully characterised, wonderfully paced, and complete with suitably unhinged vibes. One thing that I really love about this fic is that it is very atmospheric, and perfectly captures the Noir genre.

'He seems a bit guarded. The dark circles under Yuki’s eyes are hardly new but they do look more severe than usual. Has he been losing sleep over the death of his partner or is it something else? Pierre lays a gloved hand gently on his cheek, running his thumb just where Yuki's lack of sleep is showing.'

nsfw: your mouth makes me reconsider where my heart lies by @yukierres | E | 10.3k After a difficult race, Pierre is looking for a distraction - he finds camboy Yuki and things quickly develop. Not only is this fic ridiculously hot, the emotional journey that Pierre goes on is one of my favourites that I've ever read. Pierre's yearning throughout - he is a man obsessed, and he's not afraid to show it. It's just so well written and paced, and a joy to read.

'Pierre's ears burn. It has never been a thing before, all his partners delighted by his tongue and the things he can whisper in their ears. But his normal confidence is lost here, and he is not quite sure if it is the situation at hand or the way Yuki is looking down the camera.'

[thislovintime]

Peter Tork with the Fairfax Street Choir (in their bass vocal section); pictured in photo 1 with Ralph Pennuneri, Hosanna Bauer, and Bill Craig. Via the Fairfax Street Choir Facebook page, except for photo 4 (courtesy of Mark Kleiner).

Photo 2: “Peter Tork has his banjo but never played it with the choir that I remember but He was a really good musician and I remember him playing at the Lady. [...] I've heard some of his live stuff on tape that he did at the Sleeping Lady and was blown away by how great he really was as a musician.” - Marla Hunt Hanson, Facebook, January 3, 2021

“Peter showed me some banjo picking patterns... he was a nice guy fun to play music with.” - David Carlson, Facebook, January 2021

“To us, he wasn’t famous, he was just Peter. [...] He was just a sweet, dear man that, you know, everybody loved... He was just a good guy. You know, ‘Sleep on the couch, have a good one. You know, we love you. Come on in.’ [...] His destiny in this lifetime was with The Monkees. We were like his backup friends, or his backup band, whatever you want to call it.He came to us wounded, like a wounded bird, really. […] He never really got to escape from being one of The Monkees. It was very hard, you know, it was hard for him. I wish we could have given him more. [...] I said to him, ‘Well, why are you going back when they treated you so badly, and blah blah blah?’ And he said, they offered him something he couldn’t turn down, something like that, so it had to do with money of course, because… so, yeah, he went back, poor thing. God bless him. [...] [W]hen you’re a Monkee, the fans will come out of, you know, somehow they’ll seep in through the furnace floor or a little crack in the window. You’re always on display, you’re always having someone looking at you or tagging at you or pulling at you or saying, ‘God, I remember that episode…’You know, and you’re always having to be on the stage or on— in gear, or answering with a smile to your fan group, whatever that is. You’re trained to do that through the industry itself. You know, anyway, I don’t want to go that far. In this group consciousness that he was a part of for a short period of time, he didn’t have to do that. He just didn’t have to do that. And that’s why I think that was — he’ll never forget that group or the Sleeping Lady however many lifetimes he lives. And I’ll tell you this, he was happy in a very strange way for as long as he was there with us. He was happy in a different way, not in the way that you are when you’re famous. In the way you are when you’re happy. [...] Someone like Peter Tork, who shines a light out onto this world, can only shine as brightly as we allow them to. […] When you see a flame, move back and let it shine, don’t go in there and try to get it, because the reason that it’s alive is because it’s got oxygen, air, and there’s not a lot of moths hanging out around it trying to, you know, take its life. I think a lot of that is true about Peter. That’s how — what I think.” - Marla Hunt Hanson, interview with the Nesmith Tork Goffin & King podcast, February 2020

"Back in Marin. Peter Tork began to hang out at the Sleeping Lady. (He works there as a waiter now). One night The Fairfax Street Choir was there. He was amazed, saw a home, and joined. He grins as he adds: ‘In some ways I was a cold, lonely hitchhiker being picked up by a warm school bus.’ [...] He’s happy. Content. And hopeful. For the Choir. And himself." - San Diego Reader, December 6, 1973 (originally published in the Chicago Reader; interview conducted by Chuck Stepner) (read more here)

“What a group! 35 voices strong; some harmonies! It was something, very encouraging, very comforting.” - Peter Tork, Goldmine, May 1982 (x)

Peter Tork: "As soon as The Monkees was over, I went to Marin County to try to recapture some of my Greenwich-Village-days happiness, and I did. I was very, I was very lucky, there was a lovely scene in Fairfax, Marin County, and I had a great time up there for a couple of years, worked as a waiter in a cooperative restaurant and it was great, it was actually great. The thing about The Monkees, it was so difficult, was to be yanked out of — off the street, flung to the pinnacle and then, you know, and then dropped.” Q: “Yeah.” PT: “So, so I went back to the street, where I’d, you know, gotten my roots together. It was great.” - GOLD 104.5, 1999 (x)

[whump-me-all-night-long]

Bleeding Leads

AI-less Whumptober Day 4: ALT 18: Misunderstanding

Masterlist

TWs: literally none except for Devin making very poor self-care choices, the whump will happen in the next part, I promise!

---

The truth of the matter was Devin Connally very often did not mean to end up where they ended up.

They just so happened to seem as if they had the ability to show up to the worst imaginable place at the worst imaginable time. And, while this was incredibly inconvenient in their day-to-day life, it did make them excel as an investigative journalist. 

Much to their coworkers’ annoyance, Devin always seemed to get the best scoop and the fastest story and the most intriguing leads. They were almost embarrassed to admit that the vast majority of their career’s accomplishments were little more than misunderstandings, blown out of proportion.

They had found themself in the midst of everything from the mayor’s infidelity scandal (with the neighboring city’s mayor, nonetheless) to one of the largest drug busts in Fallgate City history to in-depth interviews with both convicts and local high schoolers that revealed some of the massive power imbalances that were being taken advantage of. 

Needless to say, Devin had made quite a name for themself in the eight years since moving to Fallgate.

So, when they got the envelope in the mail, they really didn’t think much of it. They simply tossed it to the middle of their coffee table, where other unopened mail was laid, and headed towards their kitchen—kitchenette, really, and that was still being generous—where they opened their freezer and popped another frozen meal into their microwave.

Glancing at the packaging of the meal as they slid over to their coffee machine, they hummed to themself. Chicken and rice today, they thought. Well, at least whatever they’re claiming is chicken. They chuckled to themself. Now that would be one hell of an exposé. 

They were just stirring the creamer into their steaming mug when the microwave dinged. Carrying their rather sad dinner to the living room—one beat-up couch, one second-hand coffee table with plenty of mystery stains, and a TV perched precariously atop a wooden drawer chest that always seemed to be wobbly—they sat down, pulling a worn blanket over their lap. 

Taking a sip to test the temperature of their coffee, Devin absentmindedly turned the TV on, flipping to some food competition, a guilty pleasure of theirs, and began shoveling the food into their mouth. It had been a long day and they were ready to crawl into their small twin-sized bed and wait for their alarm to go off too early in the morning.

It was only after the food was gone and the last dredges of the coffee had gone cold that Devin bothered reaching for the stack of mail piled in front of them. Setting it on the couch beside them, they quickly flipped through everything to see if there was anything important.

Most if it was random catalogs, some of which were from companies they’d never even heard of, selling rather outlandish goods. There were a few bills thrown in, and Devin set those aside with a roll of their eyes. That left two things.

The first was a bent postcard, with a grainy photo of what looked like the Sydney Opera House. Flipping it over, Devin immediately recognized the slanted scrawl of their oldest brother, Kai’s handwriting.

Dev-

Just thought I’d send this to you, I know how much you used to want to travel when you were younger. I’m here for another month or so while Pippa finishes up… whatever she’s doing with the local marine life. When I get back stateside, we should totally try to meet up! You still living in Fallgate, right? Anyways, I think I heard Callum just wake up from his nap, so I better go.

Talk to you later!

Kai

Devin finished reading and slowly flipped the postcard back over. They would never tell anyone this, but they still longed to see the world. That was part of why they worked so hard; so, eventually, one day, they might be able to work their way up to a nation-wide newspaper and then possibly travel abroad for international pieces.

Still, it was nice knowing at least one person had thought of them, even if it was Kai, who was too busy with his wife and children to bother actually showing up. Breathing deeply, Devin set the letter aside, slowly letting go of the surge of anger that begged to course through them for just a moment-

Looking at the other piece of mail remaining, Devin frowned, brow creasing slightly. They didn’t recognize the elegant script that had written their address—no name, though—and the paper was heavy and creamy. Not cheap, as far as Devin was concerned. 

Carefully sliding a nail under the actual wax seal that closed the envelope, Devin slowly pulled out an equally fancy looking card.

Written on creamy white paper (that honestly might’ve been softer than their sheets) it appeared to be an invitation:

Your esteemed presence is requested 

Mr. Erik Wildre, CEO of Explority Voyages, Inc.

8pm on the 22 of September

105 Penrose Boulevard

Devin blinked, flipping the invitation over, half a mind waiting to see a “HA! GOTCHA!” jumping out at them. Nothing. 

Their brow creasing ever so slightly, Devin bit their lip, thinking hard. Today was Tuesday, and the date was for this Friday. That only gave them a few days to prepare. Still, they’d been trying to get in contact with Mr. Wildre for several months now—the official reason being an interview on his latest philanthropic efforts, but Devin had fully planned to then inquire about some of the nastier rumors going around—and it was like trying to sweet-talk a concrete wall. A concrete wall that was attached to Fort Knox.

So, Devin decided, it was totally worth it.

---

Taglist: @ailesswhumptober @panic-whump @cupcakes-and-pain @lonesome--hunter @latenightcupsofcoffee @badluck990

[avidoro]

Holy crap. Finally home safe and sound and I am so ecstatic! First time flying. First time in New York City. First time seeing Beetlejuice the Musical and I loved every flipping moment of it! We had front row seats on September 30th. My friends managed to slap me dead ass center and it was absolutely amazing. I couldn’t be happier having Alex standing literally a foot away from me. He truly is a living cartoon character as I’ve always said and seeing him so close just proves it. He’s has so much expression and his mannerisms are great! I’m not sure what all changes have been noted but a few of the things that got me: He yelled “WAASSUUUUUUUUP!” when he popped out from behind the couch. Gently sticking his finger in Adam’s pocket and swirling it around when he said, “you make daddy so angry”. “Adam, what the shit is wrong with you?”

During his exit he sang “Jason Derulo” and during the second show we saw he yelled “FUCK BRIGADOON!” We had eight people in our front row group and our friend, Marq, was Alex’s target for the evening. We did not forewarn him about this and it was amazing seeing Marq’s reaction. He and his girlfriend absolutely enjoyed it and it was a great birthday gift to her. Marq got a kiss blown to him by Alex at curtain call. Something I’m quite envious of. Marq made sure to blow one back which appeared to make Alex very happy 😆 My friend, Gou, nearly got pelted by the cup that Alex threw which took her off guard, but she wishes it would have landed in front of her. During curtain call I pulled my phone out to record. Elizabeth saw me recording and pointed at me twice while she did her dance at the end! She’s too precious and I absolutely love her! My best friend’s husband, who hates musicals and was not keen on the idea of visiting NYC, only agreed to go see Beetlejuice the Musical because the movie is one of his absolute favorites. He went in expecting disappointment but left laughing and saying he absolutely wants to see it again but only front row. He also absolute adored Alex. In my book this is a total SUCKS YES! We saw the show again on the 2nd. Act 1 was full of goofups but I love seeing goofs in live shows! Almost lost the handbook to the trap door and Alex just stared at it for a minute. It was hanging on by a thread. The squeaky sound effect when Betelgeuse gooses Adam didn’t go off. The suicide note didn’t ignite. Delia’s dress didn’t attach to the pig so her dress never unraveled. Gou told me, during Act 2, the sound effect for Adam knocking on the door at the end of the show didn’t match up to David’s motion. Alex also blessed the audience with a very loud “WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” at the end of That Beautiful Sound that had the audience responding similarly 😂 The free swag for Sunday was a slap bracelet lol I didn’t get an October Playbill which made me sad. THEY HAVE SANDWORM PLUSHES NOW!! I also got to go see Curtain Up very close to the front and hear Alex and Elizabeth perform Say My Name. They did a brief interview as well. Alex was a goof, as always, and Elizabeth was just adorable! I took more time, the second show, to really look at the mural. I was dragged back to my own piece by Gou and my best friend’s aunt because they saw someone taking photos of my artwork. They insisted on telling them I was the artist and we had a brief discussion about it. It made me happy hearing that they loved my piece enough to take a photo to send to a friend! I was then asked to take a photo of a family in front of the mural only for my best friend’s aunt to insist they sit in front of my piece. I hate bringing attention to myself but they were so confused as to why she was making them move that I had to explain to them why she was doing it and I apologized. But instead the insisted that I not take their photo but instead get in the photo with them and it was really sweet! I don’t know what else to say except this has been amazing and I’m so happy I got to see it before the show closes in January. I wish I could see it one last time but I will forever cherish what I got.

[fanficbarbie]

❝ brutal ❞

─⋆♡ prelude summary: the president's daughter meets her new security detail.

─⋆♡ main tropes: Michael B. Jordan x Fem!Reader, MBJ x Black! Original Character, Michael B. Jordan x Black FMC, Bodyguard x Princess, Secret Service x First Kid, Doberman bf x Black Cat gf, forced proximity, forbidden love, tolerated enemies to lovers, college romance.

─⋆♡ chapter warnings: angst, 18+ black!writer, language, fighting, physical descriptors (brief), characters affected by symptoms of anxiety or depression.

series masterlist ✰ faceclaims ✰ spotify playlist

The blaring sound of my alarm clock has me jolting up out of bed. It’s only a warning that seconds later, a team of people will be in to debrief and doll me up for the day. I slide out of the silk sheets, putting my fuzzy slippers on. Grabbing the nearest robe, I pull it on effectively covering my chest.

Just as predicted my aide Joana shuffles in with my hair stylist, makeup artist, and stylist. I throw my head back in a groan. Just because my mom chose this job doesn’t mean I should be forced to be done up every day.

“Good morning to you too,” I hear Jo say and I straighten my head to see her beckoning me over to the beauty vanity.

I take a seat, refusing to look myself in the face just yet. That’s a jumpscare I’m not ready for this early in the morning. “I’m sorry, I just need coffee. Where is it?” I ask Jo. She usually comes into my room every morning with a latte and a donut.

The hairstylist removes my bonnet, allowing my blown-out hair to flow down my back. “Your parents want to have breakfast this morning. They said if I gave you the coffee, you’d never come downstairs,” Jo tells me.

I put my head in my hands and the makeup artist smacks the back of my hands with her makeup brush. I remove them and straighten up so she can do her job and get the fuck out of my room. “They would be right. What do they want?” I dig further.

A wince escapes my lips as the hairstyles rakes through my hair, trying to get it to lay down. It’s 4c hair, dude. That’s not happening. “To talk to you about your security detail,” Jo responds, looking at me through the mirror.

My brows furrow in confusion. We just got here, there’s not much to secure. “What about it?” I follow up.

Jo shifts to put her hand on her hip. “They’re giving all you first kids 24/7 security detail. They had to test each one to see which one would be right for you. The final test is today, you know, for the optics, ” she rants, finally taking a deep breath. 

My siblings are a couple of years younger than me so they probably think having someone follow you around 24/7 is cool. I, on the other hand, will be trying to ditch my detail as soon as he’s assigned. It’s not like I’d run anywhere, but there’s got to be hiding spots in this building. 

I close my eyes, allowing the makeup artist to apply shadow to my lids. “Okay, do you know anything about him?” I ask, trying not to move too much.

“Not a sliver. You know how clearance is. Anyways you have a photo with Hayley Randall and a–” Jo starts before I cut her off, particularly confused.

My brows furrow and the makeup artist huffs, fed up with my fidgeting. “Why is the secretary of education trying to take a photo with me?” I ask Jo.

Jo walks over to sit in an armchair next to me. “She wants to use it as a way to get her points up with our party. She found out you want to be a teacher and now she won't stop calling. Then you have an interview with Teen Vogue,” she moves on to the next thing.

Finally, something exciting. “Sweet! That should be fun,” I smile with excitement. The stylist brings in a rack of outfits, leaving them by the foot of the bed. She hasn’t figured out my style yet, so the rack weighs a ton.

The makeup grabs my face, tilting it up towards me. She glares over the daunting bottle she holds in front of my face. “Close your eyes, I need to set your face,” she instructs me.

I follow her directions, quickly shutting my eyes. “Yeah, as long as you remember your media training,” I hear Jo say.

A cool liquid is spritzed onto my face and I accidentally inhale some, sending me into a coughing fit. “Fuck,” I cry holding my chest. “I know,” I heave.

I fucking hate everything about this day already. I’m not trying to sound like a pick-me-bitch, but I’d much rather be out of the spotlight and in a bed, isolated. “See, like that,” Jo scolds my swearing and I quickly apologize under my breath. 

The hairstylist finishes my updo and begins joining the makeup artist in packing the supplies on my vanity. “Then you have a fitting for the state dinner tomorrow,” she says, motioning for the crew to leave. 

I scoot forward, hopping down from the tall stool. “What’s the attire,” I ask Jo.

Jo stands, following me over to the rack. “Black tie. Get that in your head, Libby. It’s always black tie. And you have class today,” she reminds me.

On the outside looking in, Jo is the one keeping me in line. But in reality, she’s been my ride-or-die during the entire campaign. Whenever we’re left alone, she lets loose and it feels like we’re back to being just friends. My eyes roll as Jo sorts through the rack, handing me a pink flowy dress.

I accept it, shedding my robe when the realization hits me. I have to be Ms. Americana publically for 14 hours. “Fuck, after all that I have to go to class? What day is it even?” I groan.

Jo helps me step into the dress, zipping the back up for me. “Thursday,” she says behind me.

My hands go up to rub my forehead when I remember, I have makeup on. “Every day I’m here, I’m losing track of the days,” I express my stress to her.

She ushers me to the mirror where she approves my look. “That’s why I’m here to keep you straight now, come on. Time for breakfast,” she says, pulling me towards the door.

She lets go once we’re through the double doors, navigating our way through the White House to one of the many dining rooms. “Morning,” I greet my parents as I walk through the glass panel doors.

My mom lowers the new channel with the remote before responding, “Good morning.”

I walk over toward my 16-year-old sister, where a man meets me and pulls out my chair for me. “Hey, loser,” I greet her as I sit between her and my dad.

Ellis nudges her head up as a hello. “Sup, hoe,” she returns the greeting as I plan my butt into the chair.

My father peers over his newspaper. “Girls, language,” he scolds us.

I roll my eyes, annoyed by the persistent reminder to watch my mouth. I know there’s a time and a place. It’s not like I’m going to get on national television and do it.  I reach for the coffee pot in the middle of the table and pour a significant amount into my cup. “You’re late,” my mother points out the obvious.

Stirring the cream and sugar in, I decide I need a sip of coffee before having this conversation. Once I’m satisfied with the taste, I turn my full attention towards her. “Mmm. Perks of not being the leader of the free world, am I right Dad?” I ask him, clinking my cup with his.

My mom scratches her stork bite on her forehead with frustration. “I only ask for one breakfast a week. That is not a lot,” she complains.

The doors suddenly burst open followed by my 18-year-old lanky brother. Hudson saunters into the room accompanied by a particularly attractive man. “Morning family,” he greets the room before taking a seat in between Ellis and my mom.

My mom smiles at the presence of her youngest child. “Good morning. Waffles are by Lib,” she points across the large round table.

So when I’m late, it’s a problem. But when Hudson’s late, it’s ‘waffles are by Lib’. Why couldn’t I have been born last? “I know you did not just let Huddy slide,” I highlight my mother’s hypocrisy.

She squints her eyes at me looking chagrined. “He’s not the oldest. You need to lead by example,” she counters.

She stares me down for a few seconds before my brother clears his throat. “Can you pass me the waffles, Libby?” he asks in a sarcastically nice tone.

I pick up the plate, extending my arm towards him. When he accepts it, I hold it for a moment too long so he can’t grab it. “You can shove the waffle up your ass,” I grit through my teeth before finally letting him have it.

My dad puts his paper down on the table. “Liberty,” he reminds me to use my manners over his reading glasses. Conceding, I pick up the tongs, loading some breakfast onto my plate. Silence falls over the table and for the first time, I’m about to truly survey the room. There are two new guards, who I assume are Ellis and Hudson’s. One with deep brown skin like ours and one with light brown skin. Both are tall and attractive in their own right, but they’re here to do a job. 

The more I look at them, the more I get curious about my fate. “So about this bodyguard situation,” I hint for my parents to explain.

My mom shakes her head, no. “That can wait until we’re done eating,” she says, buttering her perfectly triangular piece of toast.

“No, Mom. I want to know what I’m dealing with right now,” I demand and I feel like a teenager. The only reason I’m here is because my mom suggested it would be safer after the campaign. All I want is a normal college experience and at 20 years old, I’m still fighting for it.

My mom purses her lips, leaving me to wait for her answer anxiously. “Fine,” she concedes finally turning towards the guard standing behind my sister. “Agent Idris, call him in,” she tells him.

His eyes flicker between mine and hers before he nods. “Yes, Madam President,” he says, turning around and lifting his arm. He murmurs something into the microphone before turning around like nothing happened.

“Why am I the only one getting optics testing?” I interrogate her. If I’m getting optics testing, those two little shits are getting it too.

“You’re not, Hudson and Ellis did theirs this morning,” she nods to the two new faces standing behind my brother and sister. Agent Idris flashes me a coy smile, while the unidentified one sends a flirty smirk my way. Teases. They know I’m not allowed to fuck them. Awesome!!

My sister snickers, but my brother takes his opportunity to laugh at my pain. “Ahaha,” he laughs.

My eye roll again, marking up my eye roll count for the day. “I’m going to shoot myself,” I mutter under my breath.

“Now, before you run through your whole ‘I’m an adult speech,’ know that I get it. This is ultimately for your safety,” my mother continues.

“He’s an ex-navy seal and he’s young,” my dad boasts proudly as if the man is his son. 

My eyebrows knit together and I take another sip of my coffee. I need more caffeine to continue this conversation. “How young?” I ask my dad.

My mom is handed a binder by an aide that seemingly popped out of nowhere. She opens it, flipping through the file before stopping on a page. “Yours is 26,” she says.

26 and an ex-navy seal? I’ve got to start rethinking my escape plans. “How the fuck do you become a Navy seal that fast? Was he just born a killing machine or what?” I joke, taking a bite of the crispy bacon on my plate.

Ellis starts giggling while Hudson lets his melodic laughter ring free. “Liberty, language,” my mother scolds me and I roll my eyes.

I catch some snickers behind me, and when I turn around I see the two agents are laughing quietly. I look around in confusion. The other agents in the room’s faces are stone cold, how they’re trained to be. “Why are they laughing? I thought they didn’t get to show emotions,” I lean closer to Ellis and ask her.

“Mom and Dad said they could, for the optics,” she lets me know, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

My mother clears her throat and I turn back around, refocusing on her. “We chose him because he’ll fit in with you. It won’t even look or feel like he’s your bodyguard,” she explains.

“Oh, how kind of you to consider me before sticking someone with me 24/7,” I scoff.

“He has off days, and a three-hour break every day,” my mom tries to appeal to me.

I groan, thinking about the amount of time I spend with my siblings. Since we’re all stuck with someone 24/7 it means when we all hang out there won't be three of us, but six. “But that’s it. Where will he sleep?” I ask her.

I study her face as she gnaws on the inside of her lip, seemingly afraid to tell me the news. “In your unit,” she breaks it. 

My eyes widen and my jaw drops.“You’ve got to be kidding me. We’re sharing a fucking living space?” I seethe.

“Liberty!” my mom snips towards me.

Each of the kids gets their mini apartment in the wing. Each apartment comes with two bedrooms and two bathrooms. I assume it would be helpful when we have friends stay the night. Turns out, I’ll never know. “I’m sorry, but you can’t dictate how I express my shock,” I defend myself.

“Madam President, Agent Jordan is here to see you,” I hear my brother's unnamed guard say behind me.

My mom nods, waving her hand. “Send him in,” she says to the agent. “And behave Liberty,” she directs towards me.

I slink down in my seat and cross my arms. Fuck this whole situation. I don’t need a bodyguard. I’m 20 years old and I don’t even do anything. I’m not the one partying every weekend like Hudson. They should be more terrified of his pictures resurfacing. 

“Sit up. He’s hot,” Ellis leans over and whispers. I heed her warning because, well, the other two look like a great appetizer and dessert. Maybe mine’s dinner.

When the man walks in, I notice she’s right. The attractive black man is dressed in an all-black suit. It’s tailored to fit him perfectly, although I’m sure he’s got a bulletproof vest on and a gun under there somewhere.

He’s the American woman’s Adonis, and I suddenly realize why my mother set us all up for the optics. If the Kardashians have hot bodyguards, so should the first family. I don’t think she predicted that he’d set my body on fire the moment he walked through the door.

My eyes survey every muscle in his arms, his fresh haircut, and his plump rosy lips. “Madam President,” The man's voice bellows and I feel a pool of desire in my panties.

My mom smiles at him, trying to welcome him with open arms. “Good morning, Agent Jordan. This is Liberty, your responsibility for the next four years,” she introduces us and he doesn’t even look at me. His eyes stay on The President and he remains expressionless.

I smack my hand down on the table, the fury finally bubbling over. “I have to spend 4 years with a stranger?!” I shout at her.

“Liberty! What did I say?” she counters dourly. 

My dad stands, finished with his breakfast with a smile plastered on my face. “I’m sure he won’t be a stranger for long. Besides, he signed a contract,” my father says, grabbing his cup of coffee.

My mom follows suit, ready to disappear from the family for the day. “We’ll be watching, Libby. Don’t make his life a living hell,” she pleads with me.

So he’s just as stuck in this as I am. “I’ll try,” I grunt. 

She comes around to give each of her children a kiss on the cheek before joining my father, leaving the 6 of us in a room alone. Agent Idris and his coworker relax their positioning, allowing their backs to lean against the wall informally.

Agent Jordan doesn't move a muscle. He just stands there with his hands clasped in front of his suit. Fed up with the lack of attention from him, I stand, dragging my fingers across the table as I walk over to him. I stop once our toes are nearly touching and I can feel his hot breath on me. “Hi,” I flirt, batting my lashes up at me.

He finally looks down at me and tilts his head. His jaw clenches and puts both hands on my shoulders, pushing me back so there’s some distance between us. “I don’t know what you think this is, princess. But I’m here for work, not for play,” he articulates with a sour disposition.

I cross my arms, sticking out my tongue at him before turning around. “You’re no fun,” I grumble, slinking back down into my seat next to Ellis. “Why do I always get the worse pick?” I ask the table.

The scraping of Hudson’s utensils against his plate has me wincing. “Probably cause of last summer,” he sneers before shoveling a forkful of waffles into his mouth.

My face contorts and I throw the closest thing to me at him; a strawberry. “Shut your virgin ass up, dude,” I hiss.

Huddy drops his utensils on the table, raising both hands to flip me the bird. “Fuck you, Libby,” he growls, standing and storming towards the door.

Agent Flynn is hot on his heels and Ellis's eyes study them until they disappear. She shrugs, seemingly unbothered as she finishes the last of her smoothie with a final slurp. “You can borrow mine if you want,” she offers. The thought of her sharing her guard with me makes me snicker, and together we giggle before the doors to the family room open again.

There’s almost always a few seconds before the person appears, and I always hold my breath. When I see it’s Jo, my fears are relaxed. “Libby, time for picture day,” she calls for me.

“Great,” I respond, standing from my seat and smoothing my dress. “See you at the fitting, bookie. Have a good day at school,” I turn and bid my little sister goodbye.

She smiles at me and waves. “Bye, Libby,” she returns.

As soon as we’re in the hallway, Jo nudges me with her elbow. “So, how’s that going,” she asks about the brooding soldier trailing me.

“Don’t touch her,” he growls from behind us, sending shivers up my spine.

The click of our heels continues and I turn my head around to tell him off. “It’s fine, she’s my aide,” I say over my shoulder. After a couple of paces, we turn a hall to the media rooms. “That’s how it’s going,” I mutter towards Jo.

At least 4 years with Agent Jordan. Fuck, I am fucked.

Taglist: @cherrellek feedbackfirst part

[sinceileftyoublog]

The Lost Days Interview: 8-Track Document

Sarah Rose Janko & Tony Molina; Photo by Alicia Vanden Heuvel 

BY JORDAN MAINZER

The combination of lo-fi power pop and warm-hearted Americana is not one I would have chalked up to work on paper, but The Lost Days are pretty perfect. Tony Molina and Dawn Riding’s Sarah Rose Janko met at a memorial, quickly hitting it off and turning their mutual musical admiration into a full-blown home recording project. They released the Lost Demos EP in 2021, and afterwards, Molina, still wanting to churn out bursting, cassette-recorded pop songs a la Bill Fox’s first three records, started to write with Sarah’s voice in mind. The two eventually recorded these songs at Nick Bassett’s basement studio on his Yamaha MT8X 8 track; the result is The Lost Days’ debut album In The Store, out today via Speakeasy Studios SF.

Molina and Janko’s musical relationship early on was defined by all-night singing sessions and empty wine bottles; In The Store, in contrast, is a 13-minute document of alcoholism, being subsumed by it, the self-involvement of it, and ultimate recovery from it. Alongside shimmery guitar, keyboard, and organ, jangly percussion, and Janko’s sweet coo are fatalistic lyrics. “I think I’m gonna have to tell you that the present don’t look too good,” they sing on the album’s opening song. On the chugging, wiry “For Today”, they sing, in a duet of dependency, “The hardest part of staying sober is any time that you come over.” On the layered and melancholy “Long Before You Know”, Molina realizes that “Everyone will talk about when you have fallen,” toeing the line between self-awareness and egocentrism. If on Molina’s solo records he jam packs a thousand musical ideas into a runtime in the teens, on In The Store, he and Janko tell a whole story, too, at once personal and universal.

Last month, I sent Molina some questions over email about The Lost Days, working with Sarah, In The Store, and his favorite Guided By Voices record. Read his responses below, edited for clarity.

Since I Left You: How would you compare writing for another person's voice versus your own? What are the similarities and differences?

Tony Molina: For this record, the only difference was that I had to change the key of certain songs for Sarah to sing them because I have a lower register with my voice. So it wasn’t an issue as long as I had a capo on me.

SILY: A lot of the influences on this record (Bill Fox, Guided By Voices, The Beatles) are named influences in your solo records, too. Were there any newfound touchpoints for this specific project?

TM: Mainly, The Lost Days are a home recording project and not a studio entity. I had been on a Bill Fox bender for about three and a half years when I made this one, so the concept was to make the record on cassette. Bill uses a 4-track; we used a cassette 8-track. Besides Bill and the Tobin [Sprout]-era GBV classics, I’ve been wanting to make a record on cassette since my mentors and older brothers from the West Bay, Los Rabbis, Tommy Lasorda, and Broken Strings were on that tip when I was a youngster. It took me about 20 years to get the guts to do it, but it finally happened.

SILY: How do you achieve the contrast of bright, sunny melodies and harmonies with melancholy or dark lyrics?

TM: I don’t know, melodies are melodies, I’m not someone who can write a song about surfing or having pizza parties or whatever other fools do.

SILY: Many of the songs on In The Store reference alcoholism. This project was also born out of a time when you and Sarah were "singing to an audience of empty wine bottles" and frequenting a liquor store you frequented in a formative time in your career. What's your relationship with alcohol these days, especially as it pertains to music? I've read that you often don't pull from your personal life in your songwriting, but I'm wondering if this record is an exception.

TM: Yo shout out Jacksons Liquors!!! The whole album is about alcoholism and from the perspective of someone who sees the world through an alcoholic lens. The thing about alcoholics is that we have a lot in common and share similar stories and experiences. So I was touching on some things from my personal life that I think are super common among others who live a similar life. From the darkest points of addiction, struggling with recovery, and chronic relapse, to the paranoia and anxiety that comes from withdrawal. As a person in recovery, I felt like I needed to document these things at the time when I was going through it.

SILY: Songs like "Long Before You Know" and "Pass The Time" make references to other people's perception of you, and how it may or may not affect you. How often are you thinking about these outward feelings in your songwriting?

TM: These songs are also about the life of a fader, specifically the self-centeredness that comes with addiction.  

SILY: The title track is the longest song on here, with two verses and comparatively complex arrangements. What compels you to write shorter songs? Do you think you'll ever play around with more non-traditional pop song structures?

TM: I think I just do what feels right. The first time Ovens were ever on wax in ‘04 we had an 8-minute song on the compilation Letters From The Landfill. That song was long as fuck! So it kinda just depends.

SILY: What's the story behind the album art?

TM: I didn’t know what to use, so I think Sarah and I decided a liquor store and a fool getting faded in a graveyard would look sick. Sarah was down to do it, so there you go.

SILY: What's your favorite GBV album, and why?

TM: Same Place the Fly Got Smashed, hands down!!! Its a concept record about an alcoholic fool who turns into a murderer! Its got some super dark moments, and it sounds like a gloomy rainy day in Dayton. On some true Midwest darkness. There’s also some great upbeat feel good songs on it, too. But you know, “Drinker’s Peace”, “Club Molluska”, those are heavy. That is easily my favorite GBV ever and has been for a long time.

SILY: What else is next for you in the short and long term future?

TM: Some reissues of old stuff, and I still record all the time.

SILY: What have you been listening to, watching, and reading lately?

TM: I’ve been listening to Heron's self-titled and Duncan Browne’s self-titled (with bonus tracks) religiously.

[toku-explained]

The Demon's Truth

Expo Voice Drama: The Tri-Squad talk about past experiences on a planet, though Taiga doesn't seem to remember their most recent trip there, to Fuma's increasing frustration. Suddenly thunder heralds the appearance of Night Fang, Hellberus and Telesdon. They unite their finishers against them, wondering why the Kaiju appeared, only for their master to make contact, Reiblood Seijin himself, and Simmon Seagoara and Barabas to continue fighting. The others tell Taiga to run and warn the Inter Galactic Defence Force about Reiblood's revival, though they disagree over who's the leader.

Decker: A plant that only blooms every 120 years blooms, seen by the locals as a sign of impending doom, and soon Pagos emerges from underground in the city, causing devastation, though Kaizaki's analysis shows it moved far quicker than expected. Kanata and Ryumon are sent to gather information from the locals, one older woman saying it's divine retribution for a factory operation mining supermagnetic metal crystals. Pagos appears again, and Ryumon gets injured by rubble trying to lure it away. Despite his injuries Ryumon continues his intense training, when Kanata questions it Ryumon explains he grew up in a wealthy family, and getting into GUTS-Select is the only thing he's done on his own merits. Kanata tells him not to push himself so hard, though Ryumon points out he knows Kanata has also been pushing himself. Ryumon is sent in GUTS Falcon to analyse for the crystal deposits, Pagos' food, and locates the largest deposit below the park right before Pagos appears again, engaging, Kanata joining as Decker as soon as he's able. Things are going relatively okay, until a tentacle from underground suddenly grabs Decker, pulling him beneath the surface to find Gudon, the source of the discrepancy in the movement data of Pagos' earlier activity. Ryumon flies GUTS Falcon down to assist, as a Telesdon and a colony of Twin Tail also appears. Decker summons Agira, who defeats Telesdon. Ryumon fires a tracker missile into Pagos before escaping, giving a homing beacon for the Neo Maxima Cannon to target, eliminating Pagos and the Twin Tail swarm. Decker switches to Miracle Type, teleporting out before defeating Gudon at a distance.

Revice: Vice despondently looks at the photos of Ikki and his family, Ikki missing from everyone,and we cut to Vice attacking Revi, both in Giffard Rex, as Vice declares this is his fault, but Ikki's as well, Ikki declares he'll end it. A few days earlier, Vice welcomed people to Happy Spa as Ikki tried to follow his normal routine, George and Hiromi take a bath, where George thanks Hiromi for stopping him and agrees to visit Masumi's grave with him, he then apologises to Ikki, who doesn't hold it against him. The family ear together, but Ikki doesn't feel like he fits and can't see how he functioned as part of it,and privately tells Vice he can't remember why he fought to protect them. Next day Sakura awakens to be told by the family that Ikki is gone. Hiromi and George help the two move into an old Fenix dorm, George taking a moment to talk to Vice. Vice had told him about the contract when he was leaving Happy Spa, and with his state of mind at the time George had blown him off, George tells him now that the contract should have ended when Ikki lost all memory of his family, but it's continued. The two shop and Vice cooks, when he asks Ikki if they'll always be partners Ikki tells Vice he considers him family. Next day Ikki takes a job interview at a ramen place. Hiromi and George enjoy parfaits when Vice stops by, declaring it time he became a true Akuma again. Ikki returns after getting the job to find just a note from Vice about curry he made, and waits all night to share cake. Next morning Buu-san calls him to Happy Spa, where Tamaki has been attacked, Tamaki reveals it was Vice, Hiromi and George arrive after with a newsfeed showing Vice rampaging. When Ikki sees Genta try to tackle Vice, demanding to know how he could do that to his family, he rushed for the scene, arriving as Genta becomes Destream, but is defeated by Vice. Ikki steps forward, demanding to know where his family is, is told by Vice that he was like this from the beginning, only biding his time until Ikki couldn't remember his family anymore to finally eat them as he wanted to all along, and asking why he's upset, he didn't remember them anymore. Both transform into Giffard Rex and start fighting. Buu-san, Hiromi, Tamaki and George join Genta, as unseen by Ikki, Yukimi, Daiji, Sakura, Lovekov and Hana emerge to watch, Sakura wants to stop this, but Hana tells her not to waste Vice's resolve. Vice's plan is that eliminating him will end Ikki's family and nullify the contract, costing himself but possibly restoring Ikki's memories. The fight continues, Vice urging Ikki to fight him seriously.

Donbrothers: Kijino rushes to his job...on a building site. A few days earlier he was fired by his manager after a business he consulted for went further red. He doesn't tell Miho, especially after she asks if they can take a trip for their anniversary, and after both Kaito and Jin tell him they can't pay him for being in the Donbrothers, he settles for physical labour. His manager meanwhile becomes possessed by DaiKi, stressed he will be next and seeking talented employees, the Donbrothers are distracted from fighting him when KijiBrother collapses. Kijino offers an explanation to Taro, who misunderstands and thinks his mother is unwell and needs money for funds, starts working extra jobs, Haruka, not knowing it's about Kijino, and is called plagiarist even by her friends, also decodes to help, and unconsciously shames Saruhara into the same, he winds up selling a haiku for a yen, which burns him. Kijino is told to pay damages to the business he consulted for by his manager, and relates even further miscommunication to Taro. Taro and Haruka stop by a ramen cart Kijino is running, he disguises himself and hears their exhausted discussion about "his" mother, and not aware they're discussing their misunderstanding about him, feels bad and decides to work hard to help too. Jiro, out of the loop, uses his Alter form to see what they're all doing, seeing all 4 exhausting themselves he plans to help too, but his other self claims doing that will stop him surpassing Taro. All 4 by chance come to a restaurant Inuzaka is working at, but is going out of business, Kijino realises it's the place he messed up consulting for. The misunderstanding cleared up, they decide to work together to help restore the place, using their Donbrother forms as staff while Inuzaka cooks. When Daiki rampages again, Jiro decides to handle it himself so the others can do what they need to. The Noto arrive, making things difficult before Torabolt takes over, Don Momotaro arrives before Sonoi can kill the Hitotsu-ki, his praise leads Dragoku to take back control, as the Noto leave the two Don clan survivors defeat the Hitotsu-ki, Taro is going to help fight DaiKing, but Torabolt gets prissy so he lets them fight it. With the restaurant now selling through the roof, Kijino is given his job back,

Girls Remix: Queen of the Ganma, Fukami Kanon, returns to the human world, tracking the location the Elctro wave disruption, and meets with journalist Takigawa Sawa. Hana awakens in an opulent home, Yuriko watching her, claiming 8t 8s the home they lived in, and that Hana just collapsed, she says their mother will be happy too, shocking Hana. Sakura returns home, unable to find Hana, but Is has traced an electronic wave and found footage of Hana collapsing in Yuriko's arms, the footage disrupting as Hana passes out. They ask Sakura why Hana was upset with her, she still doesn't understand but they all do, telling her to talk it out after they get Hana back, promising to help. Hana and Yuriko are getting along, but Hana doesn't know if she believes it, Yuriko holds her and knocks her out with another Electro Wave. Inside herself, Hana is met by her Akuma, who tells her Sakura can never understand them, it doesn't matter if Yuriko is really their sister as long as she values her, and tells her to seize that happiness before entering her. The girls find the base surrounded by a force field, Poppy enters using her Bugster abilities, knocks out a security team and deactivates the barrier, allowing Sakura and Reika in, telling Akiko to wait, they defeat more guards, Izu defeats some she finds by simply moving too quickly for them. Akiko tries to get un another way and trips a laser, getting chased, but saved by Kanon and Sawa. Turns out Sawa if Akiko's client, and was doing her own investigation into the revival of Black Satan, and she worked with Kanon at some point, the Electro Waves have affected Ganma World as well, they continue searching. Sakura, Izu, Reika and Poppy come to the room Hana is in, how possessed by her Akuma and Yuriko in black leather. Yuriko tells Hana not to listen to Sakura, claiming she took the Deadmans from her and now wants to take her family as well, Sakura finally understanding what she said. Hana transforms into Kamen Rider Aguilera Dark, Sakura, resolved to stop her, becomes Jeanne, using Kujaku then Turtle, she apologises kid fight, allowing Aguilera Dark to hit a serious blow, but declaring Hana is family, Jeanne powers through and defeats her, freeing Hana. As they reconcile and hug, Yuriko returns to demand Sakura unhand her sister, as the other group arrive, having already identified epher as being named Kuroi Yuriko, unconnected to Hana, at this point Ms. Titan enters the scene, having faked her defeat as part of the plan, she admonishes Yuriko for the failure of her hypnotic waves, Yuriko calling her mother and hands Yuriko her helmet, she puts it on, revealing herself as the new, all black, Denpa Ningen Tackle.

Futo PI: Tokime arrives at the office, greeted by Bat Shot as Phillip works on something, Shotaro and Akiko meeting a client, she asks if Phillip os annoyed by her, he says the mystery of her memories intrigues him, too late remembering Shotaro telling him to watch how he says such things. The clients are from developers Maxsoft, EP Majima Shintaro and head developer Moriguchi Monako, the company produces the mobage Monster Eldorado, headlined by Kazamatsuri Megu. They want security from the agency following threats, Majima getting annoyed while explaining over Moriguchi trying to keep working. Monrado has become extremely popular in Futo, Kazamatsuri Megu was originally a cosplayer dressing as her personal customised character, but her popularity drew attention and she's now the official poster character and sings for the game, gaining an idol career, however death threats have started appearing. The letter claims Kazamatsuri Megu will be executed for her crimes using the author's box of tricks during the 3rd anniversary event, and is signed "m". It sounds like a Memory case, which is why they turned to the Narumi agency. That and, they've actually been making Monako into Megu, originally for basic PR, and now won't let her stop die to her popularity, but she clearly isn't a big fan of it, but is encouraged by her makeup team. Shotaro heads back to the office while Akiko stakes out the site of the next event, and finds Phillip arguing with Tokime, talking to each individually he finds their complaints are basically identical. At the event Megu is panicking, not wanting to be there and wanting to know where Majima is, but she goes serious for the actual event. Tokime feels pain, then the performance is interrupted when "m" interrupts as an insect dopant, pinning Shotaro and grabbing Megu, Shotaro has Tokime activate the Stag Phone to free him. They catch up with m, and Shotaro becomes W, Phillip posits this is the Meganeura Dopant. They fight, switching to CycloneTrgger to attack at range. The watching Aurora Dopant is curious to see if he can see all of W's forms, particularly the rumoured secret couple, but doubts Meganeura can last that long. As Akiko joins Tokime in trying to move the unconscious Megu, they use a Trigger Shot Bomb, only for it to survive, and almost impale Shotaro but get blocked just on time, switching to CycloneMetal as Aurora posits Meganeura must be a High Dope as it somehow emits a horrible pressure on everyone, and Tokime suddenly feels herself entranced, pulled towards it, as Meganeura attacks, W throws himself in the way, using the opportunity to hit him with the Metal Stag Break, but they still got away. Phillip tries to get an explanation from Tokime, who is confused, but Shotaro tells him to let him handle things. Telling Akiko to talk Terui into being part of the police guard Megu will now need, Shotaro comforts Tokime and asks her to to work as his assistant as he collapses, his injuries from Meganeura too much, Phillip feeling him collapse via the W Driver.

[shiraishi-mai]

[2:30pm]

You weren’t really sure how you landed this job.

Actually, scratch that, you worked really hard to get here.

The Tokyo Olympics were coming up. Japanese pride was on the line and you were happy to help the event in any sort of way, so here you stood in front of the national volleyball team. The many pairs of eyes on you made you sweat a little on the inside, but you steadied yourself. You were going to work with these people for a few weeks and it was best to make yourself comfortable now.  

“Hello everyone!” One of the managers of the team said. “I’d like to introduce you to l/n y/n. As we mentioned last week, to prepare for the upcoming Olympics, we’re going to promote the team to various media outlets. L/n is one of the sport media reps that will be working with us for a magazine spread. She’ll be popping in occasionally during practice and games to take photos and might ask a few of you for an interview.” 

You smiled and bowed at the group. Giving a once-over the athletes, you internally nodded in approval. There were definitely marketable faces in the crowd, and you recognised a few players that might be fun to interview. 

Thank god. You thought. The spread for the Adlers was like pulling teeth. 

You winced a little at the memory, making a mental note that Ushijima and Kageyama were in the crowd. 

It’s okay, they just need to be photographed. 

You noticed a couple of people walking onto the court and take a place behind the players. Your eyes travelled through the mass of tall bodies that stood in front of you and somehow managed to make eye contact with one of the tardy males. 

You froze when you saw a familiar set of brown eyes.

Hot sand. The sound of the ocean. The cheers of people clad in swimsuits standing beside a net. 

You faintly heard the manager continue talking about other activities they might be part of in the upcoming weeks, while you continued to stand rigid and unable to look away. The male had widened his eyes and frozen as well.

Iced americanos, liquid dripping down the sides. Park benches under a too blue sky and watching students clad in UC Irvine shirts walking past. 

With a clap of hands, the announcement was over. A few of the members came forward and introduced themselves to you. You gave them a bright greeting and briefly chatted with a few of the faces you had interviewed before, but your eyes kept flickering back to the man whose mouth was slowly spreading into an amused grin. 

The feeling of being pushed down on cheap sheets in a familiar dorm room. Hearing the whir of a fan doing little to help the sweat covering your bodies. 

He made his way in front of you. “Hi,” he said, sticking his hand out.

Hands moving up to clasp yours and fingers intertwining. The low groans of a man beside your ear and your toes curling. 

“Iwaizumi Hajime. I’m the athletic trainer for the team.” 

Swollen lips. Blown pupils. Marks trailing down a tan neck.

The amused grin was looking more like a smirk now.

“I look forward to working with you.”

[barnesbabee]

Could I request ateez reaction to sending nudes infront of the other members and they see it :))))

[ATEEZ REACT - You send them nudes while they're with the other members]

⚠gender neutral reader⚠

ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

-> It would be at the dorms, since he'd hate getting sidetracked at work -> Seonghwa had just informed you they were finally out of practice, so you could have a decent chat without the constant 'sorry have to go :(' and 'see you in a bit' texts -> So it wasn't weird that his phone buzzed in his pocket -> And had it been anybody else he would have waited until dinner was over, but he missed you -> And he missed seeing you -> Thankfully he'd see you much sooner, and a lot more than he had anticipated -> He's innocently grab his phone -> And slam it right down on the table, screen pressing against the wood as his face flushed red -> His widened eyes searched around the room, to find everyone questioning him -> He would 100% awkwardly excuse himself, he couldn't deal with all this in front of others -> His heart would be torn between scolding you, praising you or teasing you, but he somehow (with his still dizzy mind and sweat running down his forehead due to the nerves) found a middleground -> Hwa: you know they could have seen you... We can't have you misbehaving like that, can we?

ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ

-> 100% wouldn't mind -> If anyone saw, it would just fuel his ego and pride, as if he was showing off his prized possession -> He would definitely be at the studio when you'd send the picture -> As a way to fuel him up, and also to show how much you missed him, due to the incessant work hours -> Hongjoong's work company would always differ, from being alone, to being with a couple other people, to being in a crowded room with 7 other boys -> His phone buzzed, and he immediately checked it, as he'd been waiting for the CEO to contact him with a deadline, but it was from you -> Attached image -> He instantly smirked, and opened it, knowing fully well what reserved him -> Hongjoong would always admire your pictures for a very long time, taking in all of your curves -> What he would do next would very much depend if he was alone or not -> But he would always be kind enough to reply -> The male would always know what you wanted: a picture of what you did to him and the promise of a long night ahead of you

ʏᴜɴʜᴏ

-> Yunho wasn't necessarily shy when it came to sex talk, but he would be very shy when he was unprepared -> He would always be happy to receive a text from you -> ATEEZ said he would always be the fastest to memorize the choreographies, so Yunho would usually have a little time to text you -> Every day you woke up with a 'good morning <3', and every night he went to bed with a 'good night <3' -> So when he received a message from you at 8am he expected it to be wishes of a good day -> But instead he was met with a picture of you, naked, legs spread wide so there would be no doubt at he was looking at, in front of a mirror -> The caption DID say 'have a good day' however, so he wasn't totally wrong -> Yunho was paralyzed -> Between the raging boner, the fiery feeling spreading through his body, and the picture he couldn't bring himself to look away from, he couldn't seem to move -> So much so that it caught the attention of others, earning a 'Yunho, you okay?' from Hongjoong -> He would just nod and excuse himself -> 100% would call you so you could finish what you started

ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ

-> Expect scolding and a whole lot of spanking. -> He would check his phone during break, but since they all hung out together during the short period, it would be impossible for some of them not to notice your exposed body on the screen -> The man would keep his composure, although very much embarrassed (and jealous the others had seen you in that state), as shown by the flush that would 100% be on his cheeks -> Yeosang would excuse himself, only to text back what he would do to you as a punishment, later that night -> But he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of letting you know how flustered and riled up you had gotten him in front of everyone, as he knew that was your goal

ᴍɪɴɢɪ

-> Obviously flustered line 2/2 -> Would mindelssly check his phone, and when he saw you had sent a picture he very innocently expected a meme, of a funny picture of your animal -> Instead it was a picture of your ass, perked up, in full view for him -> Would yell 'what the fuck!?' attracting all attention to his phone -> Needless to say, all of the boys who dared look at the phone immediately grew red and looked elsewhere -> Would pop an immediate boner, and would have to excuse himself to finish the job with the picture by his side -> Mingi: If I tell you everyone else saw this the chances are I'm never getting one of these again, right?

ꜱᴀɴ

-> Your sexual relationship with San would be based on teasing and punishing, so you'd time it just right -> Right before an interview, where a boner would be hard to hide and would give him a very good motive to have a go at you once he got back -> He would pull out his phone before the interview, to tell you he might be MIA for some time, to find a text from you -> San didn't think much of the fact that it was an attached file, he expected a 'good luck' gif or something of the sort -> So his initial reaction to a picture of you, naked with a hand in your crotch was of shock -> His eyes wide, mouth agape and face as red as a cherry -> But it would only last for a few seconds -> San would recompose himself just as quickly -> Would find a lame excuse to go somehwere else, to snap a picture of his dickprint -> Sannie: this isn't good news to you baby, the price of making me hide a boner in an interview is high -> Y/N: can't wait to pay it ;)

ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ

-> Oh he would absolutely love it -> Didn't care that others saw it, like Hongjoong he saw you as the most beautigul thing in the world and he would be proud to show you off -> It would be a regular thing for you two to exchange pictures, so when 'Picture Attached' showed up on his phone he knew he was in for a good time -> Except he wouldn't be so lucky some times -> Wooyoung had given San the phone to plug it in the speakers, and a message from you came hrough -> San noticed it was an image and clicked it -> He saw Wooyoung take weird photos all the time, so when he clicked on the message he expected to see a goofy face from you, not a full blown nude during work time -> 'Uh... Wooyoung... Y/N sent you... something?' -> San would be looking away while showing him the screen -> Wooyung would just smirk and grab the phone confidently, zooming in on his favourite parts of you -> 'They're really pretty, aren't they Sannie?'

ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ

-> Little kid at heart -> Would be very embarrassed when receiving one of these, no matter if it was in private or public -> His cheeks would warm up, and he would giggle and hold his phone to his chest, to make sure no one aorund him saw it -> Wooyoung would have definitely caught a glimpse of it, being the nosy boy he is, he wanted to know what was so funny for Jongho to be giggling, but he wouldn't tell the younger he had seen his other half's body in display -> Jongho would excuse himself to go to the bathroom and would call you -> He would whine about how horny you'd left him and would beg you to help him out -> So you would have a nice, steamy session of phone sex -> Once it was over, it was his turn to tease you -> Jongho would snap a picture of his cum-covered thighs, with the caption 'the things you make me do...'

[watchmegetobsessed]

Crushing - Harry Styles

a/n: just a little something that was inspired by a tiktok and @pastequeharry​ !

pairing: Harry X Famous!Reader

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

“Welcome back, I hope has everyone returned from our little break because we are playing a fun little game with Y/N, who by the way won a Grammy award for best new artist this weekend, so congratulations on that!”

Ellen smiles at you widely as she claps along with the audience and you’re just smiling shyly, still not quite used to the sound of it.

“Thank you,” you nod looking around.

“Okay, we are going to play a round of who’d you rather. Are you familiar with the game?” she asks you.

“Yes, I’ve seen others play it before.”

“Great. For those who don’t know the game, two people will show up on the screen and Y/N will have to choose one. Whoever she chooses will come with us to the next round and at the end we’ll know who is her ultimate crush.”

“Ah man,” you huff, feeling a little nervous about who they are gonna show you and the audience laughs at your reaction as your fingers dig into the armrest of the armchair you’re sitting comfortably in.

“Are you ready?” Ellen questions with a smile that tells you just how much she is enjoying this.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be, but let’s get started,” you chuckle nervously.

“Okay, let’s see our first pair,” she starts and two pictures show up on the big screen and on the smaller one at the front of the stage so you don’t have to crane your neck. “So we have Zendaya and Tom Holland. Who are you choosing?”

“You really had to start with two of my biggest Marvel crushes?!” you whine and the audience starts laughing again as you chew on your bottom lip, trying to decide. “I love them both, but I’m gonna have to go with Zendaya, because in height, we would be better. I’m sorry Tom, I still love you!” you declare, looking around all cameras, hoping they all got your confession.

“Alright. So now we’ll keep Zendaya and move on to the next person, who is… Harry Styles. Zendaya or Harry Styles?”

The blood rushes out of your face as you see a picture of Harry, memories of the two of you meeting at the award show in the weekend flooding back to your mind. Harry has been a crush of yours since probably forever. You’ve been a fan of his since his One Direction days and your career started to take off sometime around the time he started his solo career, only difference is that it took you a little longer to earn yourself a name in the industry. But this weekend you finally met him for the first time, in real life, without you just watching him on the stage with four other men.

You spotted him at the area that led to the red carpet, he was about to step out when his eyes laid on you and though he was wearing a mask, you still knew he was smiling from the little wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, stopping in your track as you were holding up your gown so you wouldn’t trip and fall with all the cameras around.

“Y/N! Hi!” he greeted you stepping closer, as if the two of you were old friends.

“Hi!” you managed to speak up, feeling completely starstruck.

“Love the gown! You look wonderful!” he complimented you and you could feel your cheeks heating up so fast.

“Oh, thank you, but I think you’re stealing the show with the boas,” you chuckled making him laugh as well.

“Thank you. Congrats on the nomination, I really hope you win by the way.”

“You do?”

“Of course. Listened to the album, it’s really good,” he nodded and your heart skipped a beat. Harry Styles listened to your album and he liked it? This must be Heaven, but when did you die?

“Thank you so much! I hope you win too, though your chances are better with your three nominations,” you joked making him laugh again.

“Yeah, just a little,” he nodded. “Here, let me help you.” He offered you his arm helping you step up the few steps that lead to the area where the red carpet photos were taken and you were thankful for the help, though you could already hear all the camera’s clicking in your way and you knew the photos would be all over the internet by the next day.

You only met one more time during the evening and you could only congratulate to each other on the wins before you both were snatched away, but you still play your conversation with him in your head before you go to bed in the evening.

“Um, Zendaya is everything but I’m gonna play this game honestly so I’ll choose Harry.”

The audience starts cheering and clapping at the decision as Ellen smirks at you, nodding along.

“No need to be shy, we all have a crush on Harry probably,” she jokes making you laugh. “Okay, next up we have… Harry Styles and The Weeknd.”

“I’m gonna stick to Harry,” you answer probably a little too fast, but if you’re being honest, they can’t show you anyone at this point who would beat Harry.

“Harry stays, next we have Harry and… Florence Pugh.”

“You guys made sure to make it hard for me!” you chuckle staring at the screen. “But I’m still gonna stick to Harry, though I love them both.”

“Alright, for the next round we have Harry Styles and Niall Horan.”

“I’m upset, because as a One Direction fan, I should not be forced to choose between them,” you point at Ellen, giving her a hard look which the audience finds quite hilarious.

“I’m sure you had ranked them before, don’t be shy,” she smirks and you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, no offence to anyone but Harry stays. Sorry Niall, I still love you though,” you add with a smile.

“Harry is in a winning streak, it seems. Okay, let’s see his next opponent. Harry against Chris Evans.”

“Harry,” you answer with a sigh, crossing your legs, knowing well you will not choose anyone over Harry.

“Fast answer, great. Harry Styles or Ariana Grande.”

“Love Ariana, she’s a queen, but Harry,” you answer with a smile, the audience enjoying your obsession over Harry Styles and at this point you are not even trying to hide it.

“Harry Styles or Henry Cavill?”

“Harry,” you answer right away.

Henry’s picture disappears and Harry’s moves to the middle as the game comes to its end.

“Seems like we have a winner here. Harry Styles beat everyone!” Ellen chuckles as you glance at the big screen, blushing a little, but you are hoping your makeup is covering it well.

“You said it yourself, everyone has a crush on him,” you shrug, trying to play it cool.

“Yes, but not everyone was helped out by him,” she smirks as a photo of the two of you appears on the screen from last weekend and you cover your face with your hands as the audience goes wild.

“He is a gentleman,” you sigh dreamily.

“He really is and I have to say that the two of you look great together.”

“Oh stop it,” you chuckle, playing it over a little, just to make it less obvious how giddy even the thought makes you.

“Well, now we know that he is your number one choice, hopefully he’ll take the next step,” Ellen chuckles before moving on and asking you a few more questions as part of your appearance on the show.

Weeks go by and you kind of forget about the whole interview. It blows up the next few days, but nothing really happens, people just get excited that you are crushing on Harry just like everyone else, but it dies down pretty quickly.

You barely recovered from your Grammy win and yet you are already marching towards another milestone in your career. None other than Gucci asked you to be part of their new campaign in an amazing photoshoot and you just couldn’t say no, not that you ever even thought about it. After some online meetings and sending emails back and forth the first fitting’s day has finally arrived and you are buzzing!

Heading down to the showroom to go over every outfit they want you to wear for the photos, you can’t wipe the excited grin off your face. Growing up you could only dream about owning anything Gucci, now you are going to be promoting them so it truly is a dream come true.

Arriving you are walked into the showroom that is now filled with racks of clothes and there’s a podium with three mirrors surrounding it for the fitting.

“Y/N! Hi! So nice to finally meet you after all the emails and calls!” Nancy, the creative director of the campaign greets you.

“Nice to meet you too!”

“We are in a little bit of delay, I’m very sorry about that, but we can start in about ten minutes, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, no worries. I’m free all day,” you assure her before she thanks your patience and runs off to finish off whatever she was doing before.

Wandering around you take a look at the beautiful clothes on the racks, blown by basically everything you see and you can’t wait to wear the outfits that were meant for you. In the back of the room, a part is closed off for a changing area and you hear the door opening as Nancy walks out first, talking to someone following her behind and when you see the person, you freeze.

Harry Styles walks out, wearing a just a shirt and jeans, looking very casual but still, unbelievably hot. The man could wear a potato sack and still look better than any other men.

“Thank you so much,” he smiles at Nancy before his eyes lay on you, a wide smirk tugging on his lips in realization. “So nice to see a familiar face!” he beams, walking closer before he pulls you in for a short hug that catches you by surprise, but also warms your chest.

“Hi, didn’t expect to see you here, though you are kind of one with the brand at this point,” you tease him making him laugh.

“I am, yeah. I heard that you would be featured in the campaign as well. Amazing choice,” he smirks, glancing over at Nancy who smiles proudly, clearly agreeing with him.

“Y/N, I’ll get the changing room ready for you and we can start in five, alright?” Nancy informs you.

“Yeah, thank you!” You nod in her way and she is already off to do the work, leaving you and Harry alone.

“So, I learned some interesting information the other day,” he hums with a serious face and he got you curious about what it could be.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, you know, I was watching The Ellen Show and you were on, playing a little game.”

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, already feeling the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks. Harry smirks down at you, clearly enjoying that he got you so nervous and embarrassed of what happened.

“I wish I knew about your little crush earlier!” he teases you, making your groan.

“And why is that? So you could pull my leg at the Grammy’s when I was already shitting my pants?”

Harry lets out a chuckle shaking his head as he hides his hands in his pockets, his eyes running up and down your figure before they meet with your gaze again.

“No. Because then I wouldn’t have talked myself down from asking for your number.”

You can’t help the stunned reaction that takes over your face at his blunt flirting, your lips part as your eyebrows shoot up while Harry just stares back at you with a sly smirk on his deliciously pink lips.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, but now that I know that you are crushing on me just like I’m crushing on you, I think it’s time to make the first step. So…” he pulls his phone out and hands it over to you and continues while you type your number in. “I’m not just asking for your number, but I happened to hear that you have nothing else planned for the day, is that true?”

“It is,” you nod, feeling out of breath as you hand him back his phone, your number saved in his contacts.

“Then how about grabbing lunch after your fitting? I happen to have nothing today as well, we should take advantage of it,” he suggests and you can’t push your stunned smile down.

“Sounds good,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Great. I’ll run some errands while you are here and I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“You could stay here if you want, I don’t mind it,” you tell him, feeling like he is only leaving because he doesn’t want to intrude.

“I would love to, but I really want to see the final outcome of the campaign and not spoil it for myself,” he smirks making you chuckle.

“Alright. Then see you in an hour.”

“Yeah,” he nods with a boyish smirk before turning around and walking out of the showroom.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[lovexjoe]

FLASHING LIGHTS PART 2

Jack’s POV

Since the moment I watched her first interview I’ve had a crush on this women. She’s absolutely beautiful in every single way and just seeing her in front of me just confirms it all. I stood there in shock that she said no, but I understood why. She has a daughter. She’s new to the fame and she doesn’t want to get caught up in it. I’m in the same boat. Since Whats Poppin and Industry Baby came out my numbers have blown through the roof. I’m just trying to keep myself above water, before I drown in these flashing lights. I sighed as I headed back to my seats to watch the rest of the award show. The two seats to the left of Nas was suppose to be for Y/N and her daughter but Nas told me she left early.

“She’s a family girl, fam. She rarely parties! All about her daughter and I love that.” Nas admires and informs me as he notices Im searching for her. I’m crushing bad. Nas picks it up.

“She’s beautiful I know, I’m going to help you! Just don’t go breaking my best friend’s heart.” I put my hands up in defense. She’s not the type I would make sign an NDA. I want shit to be genuine. Slowly get to know each other. Y/N had won for Best New Artist. I was honored to even be nominated in the same category as her. She FaceTimed and they put her on the big screen.

“Thank you guys so so much! I’m so sorry to have left early but the princess was tired.” She shows Elena knocked out sleeping in their bed. She’s such a great mom. After the award show ended I passed on the after party and went home. I had a photo shoot in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

I can’t believe I won Best New Artist. This means the world to me. There was a photo shoot today with me and another upcoming artist. They refused to tell who it was cause it’s a little raunchy from what my manager told me. Elena was with the babysitter/ my best friend for the day. I gave her a kiss goodbye and headed out to the shoot. As soon as I step foot on set, they take me into the dressing room to do hair and makeup. I enjoyed this SOMETIMES. Other times I’m annoyed with so many people in my face trying to make me look presentable.

“Jack Harlow is on set!” I heard in the distance and my heart does a flip. Fuck. I can’t dodge this man at all. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to say yes yesterday but I just can’t risk getting hurt again. My makeup artist told me to strip down completely nude and they wrapped a white sheet around me. It’s one these those photo shoots……..

I make my way to the main setup and there he was in a white button up and grey dress pants. It doesn’t help with him being handsome. Those eyes could swallow me up right now. He gulps as I walk over to him. He clears his throat and smiles.

“Hey Y/N”

I make him nervous……

Might as well tease him……

~~~~~

The photographer explains that this idea hasn’t been presented in a while. He wanted them to be comfortable and in love as possible. Y/N mentally smirks because she knows she’s gonna tease him as much as possible. Jack mentally cursed because he’s not trying to be bricked up during the photo shoot. She’s so beautiful. Everything like a goddess. He wish she would say yes. Maybe he could convince her.

He gets on the floor as instructed, then Y/N lays against his chest. They both look at the camera all sultry and the photographer was milking it. Gushing that they look amazing together. Y/N places her left arm over his left shoulder to play with the hairs on the back of his neck. His right arm pulls her closer to him.

He whispers in her ear

“I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re playing with fire.” She bites her lip in response. They stand up, Jack unexpectedly lifts her up and she laughs. His manager laughing in the background because all their photos are coming out perfect. Nas pops in a few minutes later and Y/N felt a relief.

“Alright give my baby a break cause her bestie is here!” Nas gives her a hug. Everyone agreed to a lunch break. Jack figured Nas was here to help him and he was. Y/N left to grab a robe.

“I’m not going to lie you two look great together.” He sips on a soda that was complementary.

“Bro Im trying not to be bricked up. She’s purposely teasing me” Jack blushes. Nas informs him that she’s very flirtatious so now is the best time to make her say yes. She comes back with a banana in her mouth. Both of them looking at her insane.

“Fuck you guys. I’m on a diet until Saturday.” She pouts. Y/N was very strict about her figure. It had to do with the post partum depression after having Elena. Her ex constantly told her, her body wasn’t the same as before without realizing she sacrificed her body to birth a child. Nas does an awkward cough and excuses himself with a “phone call”

Jack turns to her

“Go out with me. Listen just as friends. I really want to get to know you.” He keeps eye contact. Fuck.

Y/N POV

THIS is his thing. The eye contact. Staring into someone’s soul. I’m melting already and before I could refuse my mouth was already saying yes.

“Fine. Don’t! Get any ideas” I pointed my finger to him and he promised that it was genuine. We headed back to the set to finish up. The photographer pulled me aside to ask me if I was okay with this one last picture. A kiss?

I shouldn’t……

I should.

His manager gave the thumbs up to surprise him. These pictures are gonna blow the internet up. Fuck it. I walked over to him as he was seated in a black chair. I climbed onto his lap, his hands immediately on my waist.

“You’re so handsome” I said softly. Truly admiring his face. His cheeks turn red and I felt his legs shuffle slightly under me. How do I have an effect on him like this? No one’s ever acted like this with me. Without much thought I pulled him in for a kiss.

~~~~

Nas came back in time and everyone was cheering. It was his idea after all and this was for sure going to be a fan favorite. The two kissed slow and sensual as if they didn’t want the moment to be over. Jack couldn’t believe it was happening but he wasn’t going to stop. Her lips were so soft. She couldn’t deny how much she liked that kiss. As they pull away they look into each other’s eyes for a minute. Y/N snaps herself out of it. She quickly thanks everyone and heads over to her dressing room.

She hasn’t felt butterflies in a while. It felt sinful. She didn’t want to give in. As she gets dressed she convinced herself that sneaking out through the back door was the best option. This was just for business and that’s it. She gets in her car and drives off.

(Hope you guys like it🦋)

[rocorambles]

Hit It Till It Breaks

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Mafia AU, NSFW, Drug Dealing, Dub-Con/Non-Con Sex, Dub-Con/Non-Con Drug Consumption, Drug Addiction, Manipulation, Humiliation, Degradation, Prostitution, Slight Pet Play

Prompt: Hard At Work

Summary: Growing up, you’d always loved fairy tales and happy endings. You’d always believed that despite how bad things might seem or get, there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. But you’re quickly realizing that this isn’t a fairy tale, that there is no happy ending, and that sometimes, you only go downhill, farther and farther from the light. 

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt.  

(Thank you as always @sawamooora for helping me keep this a coherent degenerate mess~)

It’s hard to believe that bright eyed girl holding her college diploma in the photo on your nightstand was you not that long ago. And your heart clenches when you remember how hopeful you had been. So excited to venture out and experience life. Ready to enter the job market. Ready to be an adult. 

Doors opened and closed. But you hadn’t let it deter you at first. It just wasn’t meant to be. You can’t expect to get the first job you interview for! 

But then more and more doors opened, only to be shut in your face.Your rose-tinted glasses began to crack as your funds quickly dwindled, as you lowered your standards, desperately mass applying to any small time company vaguely related to your major, only to be turned away at every step. 

And now, here you are, barely able to make rent, barely able to even feed yourself with the little you have from odd part-time jobs you’ve managed to stitch together into some sort of financial life line. 

Well, you HAD been barely able to make rent, but your hands tremble when you stare at the letter notifying you that your rent will begin to increase starting next month, mind speeding into a panicked haze as you unsuccessfully try to think of what to do, how you can possibly afford to live even in this dump anymore. And before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re scrambling, stumbling to your bathroom, throwing open your medicine cabinet as you rummage for the little pills that you know will help slow down your racing thoughts and provide much needed clarity. 

You swear everything seems clearer as soon as the smooth texture hits your tongue and you can finally breathe, slumping down on the cold tiles of your floor, pill bottle still clutched in your hand as you allow yourself to relax, praying for any ideas to flow through you. And it hits you like a ton of bricks when your grip on the plastic container accidentally loosens and the bottle clangs against the floor. 

A humorless chuckle slips past your lips as you stare at the rolling cylinder. 

Drug dealing. Fucking drug dealing. 

You can’t believe you’re even thinking of going down this route, but your mind flashes back to old roommates, old friends, old classmates who had nonchalantly made a pretty bundle on the side, carelessly tossing around and selling all types of prescription drugs on campus. And you vividly remember how simple they had made it seem, how they had all gotten away with it. Scrumptious meals, pricey alcohol, far beyond a college palette, and beautiful clothing were the only “consequences” for their crimes. 

If they could do it, you could too. Or so you’d like to think. 

But as naive and ignorant as you are about this line of work, even you know there’s a difference between selling to silly college students on campus, and selling it at a popular nightclub owned by an infamous crime syndicate. 

Even as far removed as you are from the more seedy underbelly of the new city you live in, you know of the Seijoh Syndicate. Everyone in town does. It’s hard not to when they literally run and own the entire place. 

Oikawa Tooru and the rest of the Seijoh Four run their domain with an iron fist. They’re practically nonexistent, merely a scary story to keep people in line, for those who abide by the laws and keep their noses out of trouble, but an all too real nightmare for those who choose to defy them. And you shudder, remembering the horror stories you had heard of exactly what happens to those who decide to try and start their own nefarious business and practices on Seijoh streets without Oikawa’s permission. 

But surely they wouldn’t pay you any mind? Right? Surely a mere girl in her early twenties selling the leftover prescription medicine she has in her cabinets for one night won’t do any harm? 

Maybe it’s stupid to go to such a prevalent and well known club, especially one that’s notoriously favored by the Seijoh Four. But you convince yourself that it’s the most crowded venue in the area with a target demographic who’s guaranteed to buy you out, even at the obscene prices you plan on charging. How would anyone even notice you? Where else could you go? What options do you even have? 

So despite the nervous pit swelling in your stomach, you soldier on, plastering a cheery smile at the bouncer who easily waves you in without a second glance, slipping into the sweaty mass of bodies, going deeper and deeper until you’re surrounded - skin, bones, and muscles pressing against you on all sides, safe from any prying eyes. 

Or so you believe. 

You know who the Seijoh Four are. You even know their names. But never have you met them, never have you ever seen a picture of what they each look like. Not that it would help you if you did when you’re so laser focused on finding potential customers, not even bothering to look around to see if anyone’s watching you. So you carry on, unaware of the four sets of eyes looking at you in amusement from their roost high above the writhing crowds. 

There’s nothing subtle about the way you sloppily nudge people, practically shoving your pills in stranger’s faces, almost wildly waving your merchandise around you in a desperate attempt to pull in buyers. Sweaty nervous hands fumble as you exchange little plastic baggies for wads of cash and Matsukawa raises a brow in disbelief while Hanamaki cackles when you drop your merch and payment, getting on all fours on the trashed dance floor to recollect your goods. 

It might be the most amusing show they’ve had in a while, but Iwaizumi feels a pang of pity at the wild hopeless look in your eyes and he swiftly stands, brusquely telling the other three that he’s going to go down and tell you off with just a warning, only to be stopped when Oikawa smoothly stands to his feet, effectively blocking Iwaizumi’s path. 

“Now, now Iwa-chan. Don’t be so hasty. Let me go talk to the cutie. I’ve been so bored recently and she looks like she’ll be fun! Plus you’ll make her cry with that scary face of yours.” 

Suddenly the sight of you bumbling around isn’t quite as entertaining as the remaining three men watch the brunette prowl towards you, heavy realization of what’s to come sombering the mood.  

 You’re frantic, flitting about the throngs of flailing limbs and swaying bodies, frustration from not being able to get through your supplies fast enough weighing at your conscious. Sure, you’ve managed to accrue some cash, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough to even feed yourself for the coming week let alone make a dent in the daunting rent that looms over you. And you can feel hot tears prick at the corner of your eyes when you see that it’s almost closing time and you’re still stuck with more than half your inventory, no closer to figuring out how to survive. So when a hand firmly rests on your shoulder, you whip around, ready to take your anger out on the poor soul who’s managed to catch you at the worst time. But you freeze, vicious words stuck in your mouth when you see the handsome man beaming down at you, a thick wad of rolled up bills haphazardly dangling from his fingers. 

“I heard you might have some stuff I’d be interested in.” 

You wonder if this is all a dream, if the man in front of you is (ironically a devilishly) handsome angel swooping into save you when he casually asks you how much stuff you still have, how much you’d be willing to sell everything for, not even blinking an eye at your outrageous price tag. You’re so stunned by how quick he is to call it a done deal, not resisting even a bit as he wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling you after him, saying some vague comments about wanting to go somewhere a little more private since it’s a bigger trade. All you can think about is how you’ll finally be able to eat something other than instant noodles and not have to worry about rent as you throw yourself back into interviewing, too lost in thoughts to be wary of how you’re being dragged farther and farther away from the rowdy crowd. 

But the sound of a door slamming shut behind you jolts you back to reality and Oikawa fights back a laugh at how adorable you are, eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights as your head swivels side to side, dismay and panic making you tremble when you survey the private room you’re in, throat nervously gulping when you notice the three other occupants. 

You’re so predictable and Oikawa just rolls his eyes fondly at how you swiftly turn around, trying to lunge towards the door in an attempt to escape, taking his time to leisurely make his way towards you, brown orbs taking in every inch of you as Matsukawa and Hanamaki hold your writhing body in place. 

It’s so satisfying watching you crumble to pieces before his very eyes at just the mention of his name, despair and fear swirling beautifully on your face when he continues to introduce the rest of the Seijoh Four. It never gets old, that deliciously addicting feeling of power he feels when people tremble from just a few syllables and he relishes in your pleading apologies and your tears, patiently waiting for you to finish your little sob story, barely listening to the details as he focuses in on how gorgeous you are, broken and vulnerable. 

And really, there’s no need for him to pay close attention to your blabbering anyway. It always comes down to one thing…

 “So you need money, cutie? How about working for me?”

 “Oye! Oikawa-”

“I’m just asking her some questions, Iwa-chan.”

There’s tense silence and your eyes nervously flicker back and forth between the two imposing figures staring each other down, green and brown eyes clashing in a silent argument. But as if they’ve somehow come to a conclusion, Iwaizumi tsks and looks away while Oikawa turns his attention back to you, a sickeningly cheerful grin on his face. 

Blood curling fear lances through you and you’re almost grateful for the two pairs of strong arms holding you tight, their grip keeping you from falling to your knees as your legs threaten to give out under the pressure you feel as Oikawa thoughtfully looks at you. 

You know the smart answer would be to adamantly say no and promptly figure out a way to leave this moment far behind you, even if it means forfeiting any money you had made tonight. But...a job is a job, right? And surely a job in the Seijoh Syndicate would be more lucrative than anything you’re doing now, right? 

Oikawa hides a smile at the way he can see the cogs in your head turn, apprehension turning to curiosity as you stutter out questions about pay and what the job would entail. Desperation is a good look on anyone, but it suits you particularly well and just like that, hook, line, and sinker, he has a new cute live-in maid to replace the recently vacated role.  

Working as Oikawa’s maid is more...normal than you would have expected. Not that you’re complaining and other than the embarrassing maid outfit he makes you wear, complete with frilly bow and garters, the chores are mundane. Bring breakfast to him and wake him. Clean his room and do his laundry when he’s away at meetings or jobs. Make sure guests have refreshments when they come over to his large estate, a mansion you now also call home. 

If you’re honest, it’s much more relaxing than the multiple part-time jobs you had been juggling previously, and with free board, free food, and the substantial paycheck that regularly makes its way to your bank account, you can see your future brightening up again. When your duties are done for the day, you resume practicing for interviews and keeping up with the industry, feeling emboldened and empowered to finally resume working towards the career path you had always dreamed of. 

But the more time you spend with Oikawa, the closer and more entangled in your life the brunette becomes. Alarm bells ring wildly in your head as you’re forced to join him for meals, forced to dress in elaborate gowns and jewelry while you’re waltzed around on his arm, forced to travel around the world with him, and attend to him like a glorified assistant. He’s too charming, too familiar, too bold, and you can’t help but feel like you’re racing towards some inevitable crash as he easily brushes aside any boundaries between the two of you. 

You know so many women would kill to be in your shoes and you can understand why, not completely immune to his playful smile and the lilt of his voice yourself. But you know better, know exactly how dangerous it would be to get involved with a man like Oikawa Tooru. 

It’s clear from the crimson stains on the clothes he leaves for you to either dispose of, or have cleaned. It’s clear from the wails and sobs of woman after woman he uses and tosses aside like garbage on an almost daily basis. It’s clear from the guns, knives, and weapons, most of which you don’t even know the name of, filling up all the walls, drawers, and cabinets.  

So you do your best to keep your distance, building titanium walls around your heart. Always polite, too terrified of what would happen if you pissed him off, but cold enough to deter him from more amorously or intimately testing his boundaries. 

And it seems to work as he turns his eyes towards other women, leaving you alone after throwing a few flirty comments and winks your way and ultimately falling in bed with some other poor damsel. But you nervously gulp when it’s just the two of you one night and just as you’re ready to make yourself scarce after turning down his bed and laying out his pajamas, his voice beckons you over and you anxiously bite your lower lip at the sight of pills of all shapes and sizes splayed out across his desk.    

Other than your prescription medicine, you don’t have a lot of experience with drugs other than the few blunts here and there during your college years and you had always strictly kept to your recommended doses, never even entertaining the idea of taking more. So the sight in front of you is overwhelming and you hesitantly stare anywhere but at the table surface, anxiously waiting for Oikawa to explain why he called you over. But what you’re not expecting is the warm hand gently grasping your wrist and holding your arm out, small objects being carefully placed in your outstretched palm, and soft coaxing from Oikawa to “give them a try”. 

Every part of you is screaming to throw the pills and make a run for it, begging you to come up with some excuse or just outright reject his offer. But it’s as if your body is frozen and he firmly pushes your hand to your mouth, grip tightening enough to make you wince when you hesitate to listen. The slight pain is enough to remind you that you’re not exactly in any position to negotiate and you force yourself to down the pills and gulp down the glass of water he holds to your lips. 

The last thing you remember is the unsettling feeling of beginning a descent to an unknown place from which there is no return as Oikawa pulls you to his bed. And then euphoria floods through you as your body slots against his larger frame. 

It feels good. Too good. Unnaturally good. But it’s intoxicating and you can’t help but let yourself drown in the hazy waves crashing down upon you, feeling lighter, freer, happier than you have for years. You vaguely register roaming hands, a hot wet mouth, a body on top of yours, something hard pressing against the apex of your thighs, filling you, consuming you in heady pleasure only amplified by the drugs coating your insides.  

Bliss. Pleasure. Pure unadulterated joy. And then nothing. 

When you come to, the weight of what had happened last night comes crashing down on you, making your foggy mind throb even more and you can feel bile rising inside of you as a toned arm around your waist tightens its hold on you. Oikawa grunts in annoyance when you claw your way out from his hold, scampering on shaky legs to his bathroom, heaving and expelling the contents of your stomach, trying futilely to cleanse yourself of your employer’s touch. 

You flinch when you hear footsteps approach, shrinking into the corner of the tiled room, body crouched and curled into a tight ball as you try to save any shred of dignity you still have by hiding your naked body as much as you can from his prying eyes. Salty drops threaten to trail down your face when he hovers over you, sweetly cooing down at you “not to be like this”, “you liked it so much last night”, “come back to bed with me” only to stream down your face when his countenance swiftly changes, handsome face glowering down at you before brusquely turning away and snapping at you to “get on with your work then if you’re going to be an annoying bitch”. 

It’s easy to convince yourself that you’re just being smart, just trying to survive as you obediently wash up and don your humiliating uniform, that it isn’t just you being a coward as you submissively go about your usual work day, still sitting with thighs pressed against Oikawa’s legs at meals, making no move to brush off the heavy arm he slings around your shoulders, only slightly flinching when his fingertips teasingly play with the hem of your skirt as he converses with the rest of the Seijoh Four. 

But you can’t deny that all you are is a weak fool, desperate to live when you shakily accept the pills he pushes towards you again that night, silently crying yet not doing anything to prevent the inevitable as you swallow any self-respect or pride you had along with the smooth pellets under his watchful gaze, too scared of the glimmer of gunmetal you see on the inside of his jacket to even think of resisting. 

And history repeats itself. Over and over again. 

Oikawa smiles at how different you are from that skittish creature who fled from his every touch, smirking at how naive and innocent you still are as you try to hide how eager you are for your daily dose, unaware of how he’s slowly been increasing it every night, ignorant of how you unconsciously lean into his touches, pretty lips wrapping around his fingers as he hand feeds you. 

Do you know what an animal you are in bed these days? Do you realize how little there is left to differentiate you from one of his filthy whores when you’re so doped up on whatever he gives you, moaning like a pornstar and leaving vicious red claw marks on his skin as you bounce on his cock? 

And he knows it’s time to move onto the next phase of your conditioning when there’s not even a speck of shame in your clear eyes when the sunlight begins to filter through the window, knowingly smiling in satisfaction when instead of slinking off to wallow in your regret you shimmy down between his legs and begin to nuzzle and mouth his morning wood, face full of nothing but wanton desire as you take his cock in your mouth. 

He doesn’t give you anything that night. Or the next night. Or the one after that. He doesn’t so much as even look at you outside of your usual eye contact, not a single flirtatious word slipping past his lips.

You should be grateful. This is what you wanted, right? To keep things strictly professional between the two of you. To not be coerced into the artificial pleasure you’ve been swallowing on a daily basis for the last month now. To not feel like just another warm body for Oikawa to taint. 

Your interview notes and open tab of job listings are right there, begging for your attention, practically screaming at you to pursue the life you’ve always dreamed of. 

Yet here you are, not even a week later, on your knees in between Oikawa’s legs as he leisurely reclines in his chair, peppering his inner thighs with kisses and rubbing your face against the growing bulge in his trousers, begging and pleading for another dose, feeling utterly empty and cold inside, unable to sleep, unable to focus, unable to function without the nights of hazy ecstasy. 

Your heart drops at the long disappointed sigh the brunette releases. 

“Drugs are expensive, cutie. I was just being nice and letting you try some new batches we’ve been producing, but now that they’re on the market, I can’t just keep on giving them to you for free.” 

He rolls his eyes when you adamantly tell him you’ll pay whatever the price is, a condescending smirk splitting his face from how quick you are to shut up, soul crushed when he reveals the extravagant cost, a price he knows you can’t afford with the salary he’s providing you with. 

But he artfully softens his smile as he begins to unbuckle his pants, sliding the fabric down and letting his throbbing cock spring into view, chuckling when it lightly slaps your face as it’s released from its confines, wondering if you’re drooling from the sight of his erection or the pills he’s playfully placing along the length of it. 

“I know you don’t have that money, cutie. But I’d be willing to accept other forms of payments.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re rushing to take him in his mouth and he loudly laughs at how obscene you look, slobbering all over his length, fervently bobbing your head up and down, hastily trying to deep throat him to reach the pill strategically placed right at the base of his shaft, lips puckering as you inhale the drugs, swallowing around him in a way that has him groaning as you stuff your face full of chemicals and pre-cum. And it doesn’t take much longer for him to wash your mouth and throat with warm rivulets of sticky white fluids as he watches the goods take effect, his balls tightening and cock straining with arousal as you reach between your legs, fingers playing with your tight dripping hole while your lewd moans vibrate against him. 

It’s pathetically endearing how you can’t keep off of him after that, insisting on sitting on his lap during meals, your cute ass grinding against his clothed cock, always dropping to your knees in between chores, warming his cock in your greedy mouth, always asking him how many pills you’ve earned so far. You really are just his little slutty drug addict now, aren’t you? 

But he needs you to be more than that, needs you to learn that you belong to anyone who’s willing to give you the high you crave, needs you to realize that you’re just a free use drug addicted whore for anyone and everyone to use. 

So despite how tempting it is to just plunge balls deep inside your tight little pussy, he shoves you off of him one night as you try to grind against his body, feigning exhaustion and boredom of your body, watching in amusement at the panicked crazed look that flashes across your face at his words. Well aren’t you a beautiful sight, throwing yourself at his feet and groveling, saying you’ll do anything for another dose. 

Anything, huh? 

In your defense, even through the daze of your withdrawal, there’s still a wary expression on your face when Matsukawa and Hanamaki enter the room. Maybe you aren’t as broken as Oikawa had thought. But when you see the little baggies filled with the tablets you’ve become far too familiar with twirling between the duo’s fingers, you practically lunge at them and Oikawa finally allows himself the pleasure of reaching into his pants and stroking himself to the debauched sight playing out in front of him. 

Maybe he needs to fuck you in front of a mirror more often if this is what you look like from an outside perspective. It’s like you were made to be used, to be just a warm toy for men to use and Oikawa can’t help but think you look best like this, cocks penetrating both your front and back holes, your body squeezed between two bodies. And he fondly smiles at how you have Hanamaki’s face between the palms of your hands, your lips locked in a sloppy kiss as your tongue ravages the strawberry blonde’s mouth, searching for the pills the man had playfully placed on the tip of his tongue in front of your very eyes before winking at you and telling you to come and get them yourself if you wanted them so badly. 

They keep your daily training a surprise, mixing up who gets to wreck your body each day, how many cocks and rounds of cum you’ll need to pay with, what pills and dosage you get. Always keeping you lost and confused, making sure your mind is just a muddled mess that can only think of reaching your next high by any means necessary. 

Hell, even Iwaizumi takes part when he realizes that you’re beyond the point of no return, that Oikawa wasn’t joking when he said that there is no other choice for you anymore. This is your life now. This is who you are now. This is your “happily ever after”. He knows all that, can see all that in the way your dazed eyes only come to life at the sight of your addiction, your otherwise listless body perking up at the sound of the tiny objects rattling in their container. And yet a small sliver of guilt has him growling at you to get on all fours, ensuring your face isn’t visible, turning you into just another body for him to mindlessly use as he pleases. 

It’s an uncomfortable position, borderline painful as your knees rock back and forth on the hard floor with every brutal thrust of Iwaizumi’s hips. But you don’t care, the aching pain in your legs just dull background noise as you fixate on the tablets scattered on the floor in front of your face, dropping your entire upper body low to the ground, only your hips raised high as your mouth snaps forward. You’re so close and you mewl as your lips make contact with the first pill, uncaring of the pitiful sight you make licking and lapping the floor, whimpering when a hand firmly grabs you by the hair and roughly pulls your face away from your feast. 

“Maybe we should get you a dog bowl, cutie. It’s humiliating even for you to be eating from the dirty floor like that. Hold her hair for me, Iwa-chan.” 

You crane your neck back and forth, jaw jutting forward as you frantically fight against the tight grip holding you back, mouth drooling and tongue extending like a ravenous animal. But it’s no use and you whine, too focused on your unfinished “meal” to notice how Oikawa is still standing in front of you, cock pulled out from his pants, his hands rapidly fisting the shaft. And only when thick white spurts glaze the remaining pills do you whip your attention towards him, staring with hopeful wide eyes when he crouches in front of you and grabs your face. 

“When Iwa-chan lets go of your hair, you’ll get to have the rest of your treats, but you also have to eat the special seasoning I’ve generously given you, okay? If I see even a speck of it left, you’re not getting anything tomorrow, understand?”

Oikawa laughs at how vigorously you nod your head and with a nod in Iwaizumi’s direction, you’re released and the two men watch on as you lick the floor until it’s sparkling clean, slumping your face in the mess of your own drying saliva as you reach euphoria once more. You wail as Iwaizumi shoves you off a cliff and into floating clouds of bliss with one last thrust, the drugs in your system weaving a comforting cocoon around you that you melt into, unable to escape its soothing pull, giggling in content as his seed fills you to the brim. 

There’s silence as Iwaizumi pulls out of you, tucking himself back into his pants before sitting besides Oikawa, joining him as he continues observing your used and drugged up body sprawled across the floor, a dopey smile on your face as cum begins to leak out of your spent pussy. 

Minutes pass and Iwaizumi sighs, knowing what Oikawa is waiting for him to ask despite how insistent he has been over the years about not wanting to be involved in this particular side of the business...

“Are you going to have her start working at the brothel soon? She seems just about ready.” 

“Not yet. I want to give her a few test runs first before I have her work full-time at that establishment. She’s only been with the four of us, so I’m curious to see how she is with a complete stranger. It’s perfect timing too since Sawamura is coming over for a meeting soon and I know he won’t damage the goods if I gift her to him for a night or two. Plus, she hasn’t completely lost her mind yet so we can get some more use out of her before we toss her aside...”

The brunette rambles on, tone light and airy as if he’s just discussing the weather or a TV show he watched, as if he’s not mere feet away from a woman he’s utterly destroyed and rebuilt into just another brainless profit-making doll. 

And Iwaizumi tunes him out, already having heard almost this exact speech countless times by now, unable to even keep track of how many others like you there have been in the past, unwilling to think about how many more there will be in the future. But he snorts at Oikawa’s typical closing line.

“I guess it’s almost time to find a new cute maid.” 

[smurphyse]

Moonlight Lingerie

Masterlist

Chapter 5 of Over Your Shoulder

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Jasper Donnelly Keaton (Long Lost Love AU)

Word Count: ~5.4k

Summary: Another part in Alabama, with some memories tossed in! The plot starts to ramp up a bit after this. I feel like I have a much better grasp on Spencer's voice after this chapter. It took me a bit to get it right.

Warnings: blood and a bit of gore, memories of torture

The “hotel” was actually an old farm house that had been converted into a bed and breakfast just outside of Ellison. The living room had been renovated into a large dining area with a bar, and the parlor was now a check-in and waiting area. All the rooms were upstairs, and since they were the only guests, all eight bedrooms were taken up by the team, the master suite being happily claimed by Emily.

They reconvened in the dining area after their assignments. After the morgue, they had spent most of the day interviewing witnesses and amusedly watching Jasper ignore the deputies trying to hit on her. It had taken a lot out of Spencer and he was ready to relax a bit.

When they had dated, she could’ve been holding Spencer’s hand or sticking her tongue down his throat and still some asshole would come up and try to entice her away. It was endlessly frustrating, and had killed his self-esteem when it came to their relationship.

She was this gorgeous, strong, imposing woman, and he was skinny, uncomfortable, gangly Reid. He was the kid who got tied to flagpoles and laughed at by the prettiest girl in school, he didn’t get to actually take her out.

Spencer knew she had done her best to assuage him of any notions that she didn’t want him. She wasn’t much of a PDA person when they first met, but after a month or so she began clinging to him, albeit in a less physical way than she did when they were alone, and it had helped him a lot. Still, it was hard to silence those parts of his brain that told him she belonged with someone like Jack, who was strong and brave. Someone who deserved her more than Spencer did.

“How was your first day, Jasper?” Luke asked as he approached the table, setting down a handful of drinks he’d precariously stacked on top of one another. The rest of them had pulled some tables together and spread out with takeout, drinks, and casefiles.

Jasper was eyeing a particularly bloody photo of one of the boys with one hand as she stuffed her face with the other, still wearing that red cardigan even though the temperature was in the high nineties. She ate quickly, a byproduct of being a Marine, eating most of her food before the rest of them really settled in.

Spencer used to make a game of her eating habits. She ate so quickly and was usually distracted by a book or something, so Spencer would hand her pieces of food and other plates, watching in amusement as she just kept eating whatever was handed to her.

More often than not, Spencer would hand her something inedible like a knick knack or a notepad, laughing as she bit down on it without thinking. She would glare playfully and toss the item back at him, the fight usually ending with them in a tangle of limbs and sighs on the floor instead of finishing their dinner.

“As good as it could be, I guess,” she shrugged, shoving another forkful of noodles into her mouth. She stared at the photo, munching away despite the gore. “Can’t imagine dead kids would be fun for anyone’s first day.”

“You know, we heard that you’re immortal,” Lewis stated. Jasper gave her a confused look. Tara just smiled back at her, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, Luke said you’ve done it all- been shot, stabbed, blown up,” JJ added from across the table where Spencer sat next to her.

“I guess, yeah I have had all of those happen to me,” Jasper glanced over at him, then back at the photo, clenching her jaw. “Isn’t that how the job goes?”

“Not this job,” Luke laughed, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his drink, “I mean, it can get pretty hairy, but it’s nothin’ like what we were doing in the Middle East.”

“That’s kinda why I picked it,” Jasper smiled at him, “I guess I got tired of pulling dumbass Rangers out of humvees.”

“Man, I’m glad you were doing it back then, at least! Without you I would’ve died on the side of a dirt road outside of Fallujah. You guys should’ve seen it, Jasper’s a total badass. She pulled me and two others from the wreck after we were ambushed with an IED. She took a bullet to the head and chest and still went back for the last guy.”

Jasper’s face turned red, her back stiffening as Luke spoke. Spencer saw that familiar shadow fall over her eyes when anyone brought up her time in the service. She could talk about her qualifications, her job history in the Marines, but ask about details and she usually shut down. During their time together he had managed to get only a handful of stories from her time overseas.

“You got shot in the head?” Spencer asked, hands on the table as he leaned closer to her in concern. Even though she was clear on the other side, she leaned back in her chair.

He couldn't help but imagine it, having worked with the BAU for so long. The image that ripped through his brain sent his chest into a freefall. She was so tiny, she had probably been launched off her feet. She must have hit the ground so hard. Was it before or after she’d been shot in the chest? Did she think she was going to die? Had she been at peace with that?

“In the helmet,” she sputtered, reaching a hand up and tugging her curls away from her face, “It didn’t go through, just gave me a headache for a few days.”

“Jesus,” Walker grunted, “Sounds like you both got lucky.”

Jasper shrugged uncomfortably again, avoiding Spencer’s gaze. She reached into her bag at her feet and pulled out a newspaper. Little articles had been circled in red ink, the housing section.

“Do you guys know any good neighborhoods for apartments?” she adjusted her glasses on her face, forcing the conversation another way, “It’s been so long since I’ve been in D.C. and I don’t wanna stay in this hotel they’ve got me in.”

“Yeah,” Luke said, poking her on the shoulder playfully, “I can help you look for some. Georgetown has a few great spots.”

“Didn’t you used to live in Georgetown? That one bedroom with the balcony?” Jasper asked, finally making eye contact with Spencer across the table. He felt JJ shoot him a salacious smile as she already knew what his answer was going to be.

“I, uh, still live there, actually.”

Everyone else’s attention seemed to turn to him at once. Jasper was shocked, and the rest of the team had looks of glee that no doubt stemmed from their minds wandering to just what could’ve happened in that apartment between them.

“What?” he asked defensively, trying not to think of them in that apartment together. Trying not to think of Jasper, prancing around in his CALTECH sweater and nothing else, trying to entice him away from a book and back into bed as her curls bounced wildly about her shoulders.

Trying not to think of Jasper cackling with surprised glee when she found a stack of books in the microwave and the oven, his face heating up when he explained that he had absolutely no idea how to cook anyways, so they’d become shelves for his ever-growing collection.

Trying not to think of Jasper’s feet on his lap as they sat on the couch, catching her looking at him over a crossword puzzle while he was trying to study, her pink painted toes wiggling under his book to distract him.

“It’s small and fits my needs. It's rent controlled. I never got married or anything so I didn’t need any extra space. You and Jack could probably use a two bedroom or something. JJ found a great brownstone.”

“Oh,” Jasper nodded, turning her attention back to the table. “Well, it’s just me, so I think a one bedroom might work just fine. Truth is, I’ve been running around doing all this work for almost twenty years, I’ve never really had an apartment for more than a few months so the few I’ve had were real crap holes.”

“Why won’t you talk about Jack?” JJ asked suddenly, her face light and easy, but Spencer knew that face too well- her interrogation face. She wanted answers.

Spencer’s face lit up with heat. He knew JJ just wanted answers for his sake, since he’d probably never ask if he could help it.

“JJ!” Emily said, “That’s not really any of our business.”

“It’s fine,” Jasper said quietly. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Luke reached over and squeezed her shoulder, and she smiled appreciatively. “I’m actually not married anymore. He died about twelve years ago.”

Spencer felt the guilt pool in his stomach. He’d been asking about Jack all day, fighting jealousy and guilt and his immense dislike for the man. He knew she hadn’t said anything before now because she probably hadn’t talked about Jack in years. That’s what Jasper did. Take a problem, take her pain, put it in a box and put it on the shelf. Move on.

Why was she still wearing her wedding ring?

Twelve years ago? That wasn’t very long after they broke up.

“I’m so sorry,” JJ said quietly, her enjoyment in button pushing evaporated in an instant.

“He died in Bagram, during his last tour. We were only married a few months.”

“How long were you together?”

“Less than a year. We just decided to go for it a few days before he left,” Jasper nodded to herself, staring down at the newspaper she’d brought.

“That’s not enough time,” Rossi said quietly, no doubt thinking of his last time with Caroline, when he thought they had forever together.

“It never is,” Jasper cleared her throat and shrugged, sliding the weight of the conversation off her shoulders. Moving on. “Those deputies were super annoying, huh?”

“Well, they weren’t hitting on us, so we had a pretty flirt-free day,” Walker joked, picking up on her desire to change the conversation.

They all chatted idly, unwinding after the long day spent in the heat. The sheriff’s station didn’t have air conditioning, so they had all sweat through their clothes as they poured over information and paper files, glaring at Jazz as she seemed unaffected in her cardigan.

“Jazz, Reid,” Emily said before they all headed to bed for the night, “Tomorrow I want you two to go over the list of possible suspects. Spencer reads the fastest and Jasper has an eye for detail, so I think you two will work best together on those paper files.”

Spencer and Jasper locked eyes for a moment before turning their attentions back to the table, which was not lost on the team. JJ smiled at Reid, trying to catch his eye. Rossi amusedly glanced at Stephen, who shrugged noncommittally. Spencer figured there must be some pool or bet about them by the way the team kept giving one another suggestive glances.

Emily rattled off assignments for the rest of them before giving her dismissal. They all stood, snagging their food containers before leaving the dining area.

JJ and Tara caught up with Spencer, looping their arms in his as they followed a few steps behind Luke and Jasper up the stairs to their rooms.

“How was it? JJ asked, “Did you guys get along alright?”

“Honestly? She ignored me most of the day and focused on the case,” he shrugged. “I don’t know what I expected but she seems fine enough with this. It is awkward, though.”

“Well, I’m sure she just wanted to do a good job for her first day,” Tara suggested.

“She just seems different from who I knew.”

“Fourteen years is a long time, Spence. I would be more worried if she was the same.”

“Did you see her wrists?” JJ asked, looking around Spencer’s chest to Tara, who nodded.

“Hazards of the job?”

“They only look a few years old. I wonder what she was doing.” Spencer tried to ignore them as they gossipped, which just forced him to watch Jasper’s ass in her jeans as they walked. She looked good .

“Do you think she and Luke ever did it?” JJ’s question pulled Spencer out of his mind, “They seem pretty comfortable together.”

“She and Spencer did it for like ten months and she looks intensely uncomfortable around him,” Tara countered.

“Yeah but hooking up and dating are two very different types of sex.”

“Okay!” Spencer groaned, pulling his arms out of theirs, absolutely mortified. If he was honest, he was also a little pissy at the thought of Jasper and Luke hooking up. “I’m done with this conversation.”

They were approaching their rooms, and JJ and Tara peeled off to their own at the beginning of the upstairs hallways. Spencer groaned internally as he approached his room, which just so happened to be next to Jasper’s. Emily had to be doing this on purpose.

She flashed him a smile as they both unlocked their doors. For a moment she hesitated, like she wanted to speak. He turned and watched her expectantly, but she just shook her head.

“Goodnight,” she said quietly, opening the door and shutting it quickly behind her, leaving Spencer staring at empty space.

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

Jasper couldn’t sleep. She tried, really tried, but she was too stressed.

She hadn’t gotten any sleep since the day before leaving Iraq, but knowing Spencer Reid was on the other side of the wall and that she had been savagely blindsided by her past this morning was just about too much for her to handle on top of everything else.

She played music on her phone as she lay there, anger building in her chest while Tammy Wynette warbled on the nightstand:

But if you love him, you’ll forgive him

Even though he’s hard to understand

She sighed, glaring up at the popcorn ceiling. She didn’t need this shit. She had an arms dealer to skin alive. She didn’t need blood-pressure-raising-Reid to go along with all of that bullshit.

Fuck them both, she thought bitterly, fuck both of those assholes.

Hiccups happened on missions, small slip-ups. They always happened. But this?

This was different.

This was a massive fuck up on her part.

How was she supposed to know the most influential ex of her fucked up and ridiculous life was going to be the biggest obstacle? She had a mission to execute, and that meant working with the FBI, even though she technically wasn’t an agent, nor did she want to be.

Fuck the FBI, they’d never done anything for her before. But she trusted Luke, trusted his recommendation for the job, that she would be a good fit. It was just supposed to be a cover, it just needed to get her where she needed to be. It just needed to get her to Liam’s corrupt piece-of-shit contact in the FBI.

It wasn’t that she forgot that Spencer lived in D.C It was more that she hadn't expected him to stay in D.C. He was too good for the FBI. She always figured he’d found his own organization or decide to take over the world. He had the skills, he could do it.

Luke had neglected to tell her Spencer was on the fucking team. Granted, he didn’t even know she knew him, but Jasper was still pissed about it. She hadn’t told anyone about Spencer, nobody except Jack. It had hurt too much to talk about him, and Jack only knew because he’d met Spencer the same night she had.

Jack had been her best friend. He’d been there for all of her relationship with Spencer-- the meeting, the falling in love, the breakup, the picking up Jasper off the bathroom floor, the emotional shut down that followed it all. She could still remember him, gently pressing a washcloth to the back of her neck as she threw up whiskey for the third night in a row. He held back her hair and whispered soothing words to her as she cried into the toilet. She’d been a fucking mess for months after the last time she saw Spencer Reid.

She missed Jack.

Spencer had been the one she was going to leave the Agency for. They were going to be happy. And then she’d fucked it all up. She’d let Spencer see too much of her, and he took what he saw and threw it back in her face.

Fuck. Stop thinking about that shit.

It was too fucking hot in Alabama. The covers were too coarse and too thick, and the sheets soaked up every drop of sweat as she lay on top of them. She only wore a pair of panties and a satin cami, and still she was ungodly hot.

She traced the scarring over her hip, following the jagged ugly word carved there- MINE . It still burned, seared like a brand, since that’s exactly what it was. Baheera said it was entirely psychosomatic, a trauma response, but sometimes Jasper swore she could still feel his fingers on her skin, pulling the wire deeper into her wrists as he held her down and carved into her.

She rubbed the scar on her chest. The long one that dipped between her breasts ached with the heat, but so did the others from that night when he finally tracked her and Jack down. They hurt when it rained, when it snowed, when she woke up in the morning. Some days it was unbearable.

The scars on her wrists and forearms pulsed, angry at her for covering them up in the sweltering heat of the day. She had been miserable under the cardigan, but she wasn’t ready to see Spencer’s face when he saw the deep scarring on her forearms.

She could sometimes still hear the crack of her arms as they broke through the skin as she tried to protect her head and neck, tied by her wrists to a pipe as the baseball bat connected with her hands, her arms, her back . In the silence of the night, she would hear it, whoosh, snap! She would look around frantically for the source, but never found anything but her own face in the mirror.

Her fingers traced the scar down to her ribcage, over the shrapnel scar from her first tour to Iraq. Spencer had long since replaced the actual memory of how she got it. The only scar with a good memory on her broken and torn up body. Back then it had been the worst of the few scars she had.

The moonlight wrapped around her like lingerie as she lounged on the bed. Spencer loomed above her, hips still connected to hers between her legs, his face pink and his hair damp from sweat in their afterglow.

He had spent the last few minutes tracing his hand up and down her naked body, their legs tangled between the sheets as they came down from their high in comfortable silence. Whether he meant to or not, his hands kept coming back to a spot just under her left breast, a spattering of raised scars scattered across her ribcage. The scar almost cut her in half, wrapping around the entire left side of her chest and carving around to her back.

“How did you get this?” he asked quietly. She could see the concern in his soft features as he lightly drew circles along the largest part of the gash. She decided to give him as much truth as she could. How could she tell lies to a man with eyes like that?

“IED,” she said just as quietly, as though it were a secret. To her it was, but he’d never know. “The humvee door exploded inward and into me. I almost died.”

“Were you scared?”

“Of dying?”

He nodded, genuinely wanting to know. She knew he was in the academy and that someday he might be in danger. She didn’t want him to be frightened of that. If she had it her way, she’d cradle him against her chest forever and be his protector. She’d be his safe place. His home.

“No. I was scared of the pain.” She paused carefully before continuing, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ear as she looked up at him. “I couldn’t move, because a big piece of the door was sticking out of my chest. I was pinned to the ground just watching the firefight around me. I was scared of being trapped, even if I survived, of being paralyzed or worse.”

He nodded, though he could never understand until he was put in a position like that himself. There was just no way to know what it was like to be held down by the throat and have Death herself breathe across your face. She didn’t ever want him to know.

“Does it hurt?” he asked suddenly, pulling his hand away as though he could ever be the one to cause her pain.

She reached between them, grabbing his hand and pressing it firmly against her skin. She could feel the bits of metal shift between her ribs, but she didn’t care.

“This is the first time it’s stopped since it happened.”

Jasper sat up, tugging her hands through her unruly hair as she tried to dispel the memories from her mind. She finally decided to brave the heat, pulling on a pair of shorts and snatching her phone from the nightstand on her way out.

She quietly made her way down the stairs, opening the front door as slowly as she could before stepping onto the large wrap around porch. Bless southern houses. The wood was cool under her bare feet, a blessed reprieve from the sweltering day and somehow equally hot night. She sat down on the front steps of the porch, tossing her phone next to her as Gary Allan softly sang to her:

I’ve finally realized

This love it never dies

I’m really not that tough

No I’m really not that tough

I think I’ve had enough

“You and me both, bud,” she grumbled, pulling her knees up to her chest and looking up at the stars. She could hear coyotes and other small animals running around the woods surrounding the remote hotel. She longed to be them- feral and wild, traipsing through the trees with the fierce abandon she had as a girl, leaving all this shit far behind her.

One thing she missed about the south was the sky. In Louisiana, in the part she’d grown up in, the trees from the swamps and the bayous were too thick to see through most nights. The cicadas would scream and she’d lie awake listening to her father’s snoring, her chest tight and more scared of the man in the next room than the night outside.

Sam Donnelly, whose last name she’d taken for her own when making this cover, because she was just a stupid grief-stricken kid when she’d created Jasper, he would tap on her window, giving her a big grin as she opened the blinds. He would reach out his hand to her and help her climb out and onto the trailer porch. She’d sit on his handlebars and he would bike her to Tate’s Clearing to watch the stars. Sam would lie about knowing their names, and she’d let him, falling asleep to his creation of the universe.

The only times she really felt safe were with Sam, but he was gone now.

He had been for a long time. So had the girl he’d known.

“Couldn’t sleep?” a voice startled her out of her reverie, her hand going to her hip for a gun that wasn’t there.

She turned to look, and there sat Spencer Reid, sitting at one of the porch seats with a book resting against the table. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, his sleeves rolled up and his messy hair pushed back away from his face. In his late thirties and somehow he still looked like that twenty-three year old kid sitting across the booth from her at Moe’s, sipping a strawberry milkshake on a hot summer night and grinning at her like she was the fucking sun.

“Jesus, Spence,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed awkwardly, dragging a hand across the back of his neck, “You didn’t seem to notice me when you came out.”

“I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“You know listening to music when you can’t sleep is just guaranteed to keep you up. I told you that before.”

“I can’t believe you remember that,” she muttered, reaching for her phone and turning the music off.

They sat uncomfortably, watching one another from their seats, the slats of the porch like an ocean between them. That’s how it had felt all day, keeping furniture and people and dead bodies between them so they couldn’t get too close.

This was so awkward, goddamnit.

“I’m not going to stay on the team,” she said quietly. She meant it. She would find something else. Surely Luke would help her, this was something he’d probably understand.

Spencer’s brow furrowed, and he snapped his book shut and stood. He marched over to where she sat and plopped down next to her. The stairs weren’t very wide, so she couldn’t lean away from him. Fuck.

Even with the heat and sweat of the day, cinnamon and citrus wafted from his rumpled clothes. The dark circles beneath his eyes betrayed the youthfulness of his features, and she noticed stubble along his jaw that never would have been there fourteen years ago. She wanted to reach out and rub her hand along it, make a joke and wash him blush as she held him.

“Why?” he asked, gazing intently at her with those wide hazel eyes. She wanted to reach out and press her finger between his stupid eyebrows and ease them apart.

Your face is gonna get stuck like that, Stick, you do that too much.

You’re the only reason I make this face. You know that right?

“You already took the classes and passed with perfect marks. Why leave if you’ve put in all that work?”

But she hadn’t put in all that work. Sure, she’d taken the classes when Luke offered her the job a few years back, but she hadn’t actually worked to get into the FBI. Perks of her job, she could be wherever she needed to be because of Oona, because of the American government and it’s dirty little secrets- aka her .

“Spencer…” she started, shifting on the stair, trying to face anywhere but at him and failing, “This is awkward, right? I mean, you are obviously entrenched here. You guys are all like a family, and I’m an outsider. I’m trying to find a place that I fit. I don’t fit in your life. Not anymore.”

“I think you’d fit it great if you actually let yourself,” he whispered, licking his lips. If she let herself believe it, she might think he’d looked down at hers when he did so, “With the team, y’know? Luke is so excited that you’re here.”

“Why would I get to know these people if I’m going to leave after this case?”

“Because that’s what people do, Jazz,” he said bitterly, “they form relationships. You wanna settle down? This is the place to do it. If what you want is to be in the States, then this job is perfect.”

“Why would you even want me to stay?” Do you still want me ?

She couldn’t think like that. She had a mission to finish.

Taqib is more important than your stupid childish romances. Get it together you dumb bitch!

“You… obviously know what you’re doing, and honestly? I’m happy to see you again.”

Her chest fluttered. It was an odd feeling for her, almost like the damned thing might sputter out and stop working altogether. She hadn’t let herself think of Spencer Reid, of love, as anything more than an open wound in so long, it felt like a betrayal of herself.

Don’t humanize him now, dammit! He’s a bastard! He hurt you, he took your stupid, maggot ridden, calcified stone of a heart and smashed it into a million pieces! He’ll do it again.

Or worse.

You’ll get him killed like you did Taqib. You'll choose the mission every time, and you'll watch him die, too.

They watched one another for a moment before his eyes trailed down to her chest, his gaze clouding with worry.

She’d forgotten how little clothing she was wearing in the Alabama heat. The light from the porchlight was dim, but it was just enough to see all of the rips and tears on her battered body. All her scars were on display except the one on her ribs and her hip, thank god that one was covered.

“Jazz…”

He reached out and gripped her forearms, turning them as he inspected the torn flesh. Her back stiffened so quickly she thought it might coil and snap as she realized this was the first time Spencer Reid had touched her in a decade and a half.

His fingers were cool, always soothing and soft against her burning skin. She was always on fire, and he had always been the one keeping watch of the flames lest they spiral out of control. His hands left tingling electricity in their aftermath, his touch seeping into her skin and saturating her bones.

Spencer’s hand trailed up her arm, one hand settling against her neck as the other moved to the shredded scar along her left leg from Wren’s sniper round. The bone had splintered through her skin, blood and tissue bursting from her body, ungodly pain following only after she wondered stupidly how she could have just spontaneously combusted.

He finally looked back into her eyes, and he must have seen the absolute terror that gripped her because he pulled his hands from her immediately.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, swiping a nervous hand over his mouth and dragging it down his jaw. His eyes still rested on the scar on her chest, his brain coming up with a thousand different scenarios for how she could have gotten them.

She wanted to tell him, just tell him everything. All of it. From back before, before she was Jasper, all up till now. At least if he thought her a monster for the life she lived, Jasper would have told him the full truth for once.

“Me too,” she said evenly, sincerely meaning it as they sat there, not exactly sure what she was sorry for. Loving him? Or leaving him? Maybe for making him feel like he had to compete with Jack’s affections for all those months, even though it had never been her intention. Maybe for all of it. Maybe none of it.

He had that look , the one that she remembered. The one that always killed her. Eyes wide and worried, lip tucked between his teeth so tightly she just wanted to reach up and pull it out. Of course when she used to do that, she’d kiss him after.

His hands would wrap around her waist, that worried look morphing into one of pleasure as his hands rucked up her shirt. He would run them up her back, seeking out the planes and dips of her muscles, soothing her aching body in a way that she hadn't achieved since leaving him.

She didn’t know what to say, but she didn’t want to leave the porch. There was no way she would tell him that, but she didn’t want him to leave. Jasper had missed him.

But Jasper couldn’t do it. There was a reason she was so good at covert work. At lying. She took her heart and wrapped it up tight, hid it from the light of day so this kind of crap wouldn’t happen.

She stood abruptly, tearing herself away from Spencer Reid and all of the history between them. Jasper went back inside and into her room without looking back. Just like the night she had left him, she pushed herself forward until she could lock her door securely behind her and burst into tears.

Shit.

Jasper had to get the fuck out of the BAU.

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Notes: The two songs mentioned in this chapter are Stand by Your Man by Tammy Wynette I Think I've Had Enough by Gary Allan

Also, just so you know, when I picture Jack, I picture Jake Johnson in Stumptown? Like sexy tattooed with a beard Jake Johnson? Yeah. I love him.

I'm trying to pepper in truths and Jasper's lies into her thoughts, I hope that you can tell the difference? Like you can see what she hides so well in front of others?