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eilidh-eternal · 4 months

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Captain Price smut? Yeahhhh, Captain Price smut.

Real estate agent reader who’s showing John Price flats in London, but the only thing he cares about are all the surfaces he can fuck you on.

“This unit is just under 100 square meters, but it has the open floor plan you requested, and the kitchen has recently been remodeled; all new cabinetry, appliances and gorgeous Calcutta marble countertops. It’s an entertainers dream.”

John won’t be doing much entertaining but he thinks you’re an exquisite show spread out on those countertops you love so much, skirt hiked up around your hips and lacy thong between his teeth as he nips and teases the sensitive juncture of your hip and thigh. The scrape of his beard against your thighs only causes you to spread them wider for him, already burning, and before you can protest—complain that you’d just bought those—he’s tearing the flimsy lace from your body and growling at the sight of your glistening cunt.

“Christ sweetheart, just look at ya. Been drippin’ since we walked through the door.”

The first card of his tongue through your folds is long and languid, and the way he moans at the first taste of you is something purely primal, born of raw desire and burning need. Hands made rough by years of hard work snake beneath your thighs, seeking purchase at your hips to knead at their plush and soft skin. He pins them to the counter when he dips into your entrance and you clench around him, a moan of his own echoing yours, vibrating against the throbbing bundle of nerves pressed against his nose.

You clap a hand over your mouth to muffle what would have been a scream when he takes your puffy clit between his teeth, flicks the tip of his tongue over it until your thighs are quivering against him. You could scream when he pulls away from you, leaves you dangling from that razor thin edge to pull himself up, to brace his arms on either side of your head and pull your hand away from your face.

“No more of that, doll. Need t’ hear ya. Gotta know how thin these walls are. Don’t want any neighbors reporting us for violating the noise ordinance.” With his orders given he returns to his position between your thighs, not wasting a moment as he hooks his arms under you and drags you to the very edge of the counter to throw your legs over his shoulders and continue with his meal.

You grip the edge of the counter with such force you worry it might crack, that it might crumble in your hands just as you are in his. Every searing pass of his tongue, nip of his teeth and bristle of his beard coaxes you back towards that ledge, and every moan and gasp you give him is rewarded with a growl that reverberates from his chest and straight to your clit, sending hot sparks of pleasure licking on your arching spine.

Watching you unravel before him is John’s second favorite part of the tour, tasting your spilled essence as you writhe and clamp your thighs around his head when you cum on his tongue. Second only to the way you feel wrapped around him, the way your brows slope upwards and your mouth makes that perfect little ‘o’ when he sheathes himself to the hilt inside you.

“F-fuck, ‘s too much… I can’t-”

“You can,” he grunts with a pointed thrust, and you whine at the fullness, the stretch of his thick cock and the press of the flared tip against your cervix. “You can take it, honey. Just keep those pretty eyes on me yeah?” You focus on his face, concentrate on the lines between his brows. “Good girl.”

He sets a steady pace, one hand pressing your knee up beside your face and with the other he braces himself on the counter, bent over you to watch your eyes flutter with every drag of his cock in and out of you.

“Fuck sweetheart… ya feel fuckin’ perfect. ‘S like you were made for my cock.” It’s too much, too intense staring up into the swirling depths of ocean blue eyes when he says things like that, and you look away before you drown in them and all of his pretty words.

But John is like a rip tide; calm and collected on the surface, but swift and brutal below. He halts his movements abruptly, grips your face, thumb and forefinger pressing into your cheeks, and forces your gaze back to his. “Did I say you could look away?” A beat of silence and he cocks an impatient brow.

“No…” you squeak.

“What were my instructions?”

“Eyes on you.” It’s less whiny but it still comes out small and breathy.

“That’s right, eyes on me. Gotta be able to see ya so I can take care of ya. Gotta know it feels good, that I’m not hurtin’ ya. Understand?” You nod weakly, but his brows remain furrowed, mouth set in a hard line, and he doesn’t move.

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good girl,” he hums in approval and removes his hand from your face, drags it down the length of your body as his hips begin to roll forward again, following the valley of your breasts down to your navel, your messily bunched up skirt, and presses his thumb to your clit, tracing slow circles around it. It doesn’t take long for him to find his rhythm again, faster this time, each stroke pushing him further and further towards that simmering pool of pleasure as your silken walls begin to flutter around him.

You can feel your own orgasm building, the velvety head of his cock brushing against pleasure centers deep inside of you and his thumb working your clit to fan the flames of your lust and desire into a blazing inferno. Hot tendrils of pleasure lick up your spine, arching you into him and rocking your hips against his as you mewl and whine, desperate for your release and to ease the growing heat within your veins.

“Close… fuck, I’m close-” you can barely manage, and he shushes you sweetly.

“I know sweetheart, can feel ya- fuck… clenching around me,” he says between panting breaths. “Wanna feel ya… milkin’ me. Be a good girl… and cum for me.”

He’s relentless in his mission to see you, to feel you, cumming on his cock, hips slamming into yours at a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin mingling with each of your breathy moans in the sweetest symphony he’s ever heard. And it’s hard, so, so hard to keep your eyes open, to keep them trained on him when he’s fucking you like a man utterly consumed by the desire to see you shatter beneath him.

You don’t hold back, don’t bother trying to quiet the scream that rips from your throat when he sends you careening over that edge, falling, falling, falling into a warm, blissful oblivion. Every muscle in your abdomen pulls taught, pussy clamping down on him as your orgasm tears through you like a wildfire through a parched forest, and he chases his own release with the same rabid intensity, grunting and panting above you with wild thrusts of his hips. A raging storm of intensity that finally breaks when his balls tighten and he spills inside of you, hips stuttering with a guttural moan that rumbles like thunder in his chest.

You stay like that for a long moment, your arms limp beside you, legs quivering against cool marble with his face tucked into the side of your neck and breathing raggedly. When he finally withdraws you whimper at the loss of him, the absence of his warmth and the fullness he gave now leaves you empty and leaking your combined essence, dripping down your thighs onto the obscenely expensive counter. You open your mouth to say something, try to move back to your feet before you make a further mess, but he silences you with his tongue, lapping at your entrance to taste both of you, and the only sound that comes out is an overstimulated whine.

“I know, I know…” he murmurs into your dripping cunt. “But we’ve gotta get ya cleaned up.”

You. Not the counters—you.

When he finally deems you ‘clean’ enough, he helps you down from the counter, makes sure you’re steady on your feet before you even try putting those ridiculous heels back on. And when you leave he tucks the ruined lace of your underwear into his pocket and guides you out of the flat with a firm hand on the small of your back, all the way to your car, and insists on opening the door for you.

Before you can seat yourself he tightens his hold on you and drops down to place a kiss on your cheek, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I’ll see you next week for that showing, sweetheart. Be good for me until then.”

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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scootatwoni · 24 days

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Miku expo 2024 is off to a truly awful start but I haven't seen any posts on here detailing the mess. So here we go, here's what's happened so far.

I will be linking some posts and threads from Twitter and will update this post as need be.

4/16 edits and additions are in blue

**PLEASE DO NOT comment or send me DMs complaining about the setlist**

**Rather than tweet complaints at the Miku Expo twitter account, it may be best to email CFM and/or Crunchyroll directly.**

🎵 First up, ticket presales.

This year the expo was sponsored by Crunchyroll and ticket presales were only supposed to be available to those that had a Crunchyroll subscription. Those that qualified were emailed a code for presale. However, when that code was inevitably leaked to the public, it turned out anyone could buy presales because it wasn't set up in any way to verify your subscription.

Additionally, VIP tickets are supposed to give the holder early access to the venue and merch tables, but I'm hearing that this is not being honored despite it being advertised on some of the venue pages. (see replies to this tweet)

VIP for San Jose did not grant early access to merch

The VIP package does not include a glow stick (scroll down to "about MIKU EXPO VIP PACKAGE" here), which causes some more difficulties for those that were not able to buy a glow stick online.

🎵 Merch

Higher prices and lower stock than usual. This is especially frustrating for the glow sticks.

The only glow sticks that are allowed inside these venues are ones made for the event or ones from past vocaloid concerts. This is because other glow sticks are too bright and will reflect on the hologram screen. But what with the stocks being so low, many people can't even get these glow sticks.

Merch at the venues is also not looking promising. People are reporting there have only been a quantity of 95 glow sticks per venue.

🎵 so about that screen

The biggest news to come out about Miku expo 2024 is that they arent using the hologram screen. The Vancouver and Portland concerts have used an LED screen.

This was neither advertised nor communicated from CFM or Crunchyroll to the public.

This also makes the prohibiting of outside glow sticks redundant, as they won't interfere with an LED screen.

An LED screen is much cheaper to use than the transparent screen used for the holograms. And a lot of folks are pointing out the discrepancies between this and the higher ticket and merch prices.

The LED screen is also a lot more noticeable and out of place, it hasn't been blended well on the stage so far. Views from further back and the sides are not looking great.

The Miku Expo team have stated that the Vancouver show was filmed officially. Seeing as the LED screen was also used in Portland, we can reasonably assume the LED has nothing to do with the filming.

Fans are speculating that the reason the Miku Expo team have prohibited photos and videos at this year's expo is to hide the fact that an LED screen is being used for multiple concerts.

There's also speculation that the hologram screen is in CA in preparation for Coachella, where Miku is meant to preform on the 13th and 20th of April. Please note that this is just speculation, we have no way atm to confirm this. UPDATE: The LED was used at Coachella

Additionally, I personally would recommend not getting your hopes up about the hologram screen replacing the LED one for any concerts after Coachella. Seeing as neither Crunchyroll or CFM have communicated or addressed any of the complaints yet, we may just be stuck with the LED for the whole tour.

A spokesperson for CFM addressed the concerns via this article from Business Insider. The LED will be used for the entirety of the NA and Europe tour.

The LED screen broke during the phoenix show. Apparently the vibration from the bass was so strong it shook the connection lose. It was fixed at the end of On The Rocks.

🎵 the doujin goods incident at Vancouver

Please refer to this thread for the full info, but here is a summary:

The Miku Expo team refused to let a fan distribute free doujin goods despite this fan getting prior permission from CFM to do so. An individual also took this fan's miku cutout, though I believe it was returned later.

🎵 there is still a live band

I figured I'd clear this up since I've seen some mild miscommunication on it. There is a live band, just not the usual band they have for Miku concerts. This is not at all an issue, and in fact I've heard nothing but good things about the live band. I figured I'd bring it up for information's sake.

Honestly, kudos to them killing it on stage in the midst of the mess.

🎵 Miscellaneous

-Someone Allegedly pissed on the floor of the Vancouver show. I have. no words. What the FUCK dude. If anyone can find the original tweet(s) claiming this, please link them to me. I'm not rooting through vocatwt to find the piss tweets.

-There was a car crash outside of the san jose concert, in front of a full line of miku expo attendees. The driver's plate fell off. Fans got a hold of it and took pictures with it, some using the hashtag #trafficjam as a reference to the NILFRUITS song of the same name. Someone even kept the plate.

UPDATE: The plate was returned to the authorities

-Fans cheering for Elmo at San Jose.

-Someone is looking into a class action lawsuit. This has sparked some discourse. Many want some kind of justice irt to the poor organization of Miku Expo thus far, but others are fearful that taking any kind of legal actions will put the future of NA vocaloid concerts in jeopardy.

🎼Concluding notes

It's been 6 years since Miku expo has come overseas. The 2020 tour was cancelled due to covid and Miku expo 2024 is it's 10th anniversary. This was supposed to be a big deal, a huge comeback tour for NA!!

However, due to absolute abysmal planning on Crunchyroll and CFM's parts, Miku expo has been a massive disappointment for many fans so far.

I know I'm nervous for when I go in May, but I want to try and end this on a more positive note.

Vocaloid has, first and foremost, always been about the music and the community. It's undeniable that we as fans have been mistreated by CFM and Crunchyroll here This is not the concert tour we deserve, but I'm sure we can still find things to enjoy.

Hearing vocaloid songs live has always been a dream of mine, and for the first time in my life I'll be surrounded in person by folks who love vocaloid as much as I do. I couldn't even fathom being in this situation back in the early days of vocaloid, being a little kid listening to Melt and World is Mine for the very first time.

I'm absolutely still angry about how the expo has been handled, but I still want to enjoy what I can, being with folks who share that same passion.

There are plenty of fans on twitter detailing the fun time they had at the shows so far. If you do end up going, you can absolutely still have fun too!! And please please please do not spread your negativity to the producers on the set list for Miku expo and Coachella. These artists worked so hard and they are not responsible for the bad decisions made this year.

#miku expo #miku expo 2024 #vocaloid #hatsune miku #miku hatsune #crypton future media #CFM #scout.txt

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x-on-the-calendar-business · 4 months

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exploring panic!'s a fever you can't sweat out/live in denver boxset

a couple of years ago, i managed to snag this for $150, which is still crazy to me, and it's definitely my favorite thing i've ever owned. i feel like i haven't seen many people detailing the contents of it, and since it's such a cool relic, i wanted to share this beauty with everyone.

it comes with the live in denver dvd (left) and a fever you can't sweat out cd (right). the cover art and discs are SO fucking pretty and cool i'm so obsessed with them. i love how it really feeds into that 20s/30s theme they had going on this era.

then it has these 4 photo cards which are all such beautiful photos. the first one especially is one of my all time favorite panic photos. the b&w filter also fits this era so well.

this is a phenakistiscope. you stand in front of a mirror and spin it around while looking through the cracks so it looks like the girl is dancing (instructions are included on the back).

this is a tour program for the live in denver tour. it includes all the tour dates, as well as a guide to their discography. including pictures of the inside would exceed my image limit, so if anyone wants a post detailing this item, i'd be more than happy to post that!

self explanatory but it's a mask reminiscent of the but it's better if you do music video.

there's this SUPER cool poster that i'd love to hang up on my wall but i'm too scared to in case it ruins it. i'm actually so obsessed with this thing.

this is something else i can't include detailed pictures of due to the image limit, but honestly there isn't a lot of lore or super interesting stuff inside of it. however, i'd still be happy to detail it more in another post.

there's this GORGEOUS notebook that i'm also too scared to actually do anything with. it is actually quite a thick notebook. i looove the detail of the "PANIC!" barely visible in the middle of the pages.

now onto my absolute favorite part of this thing:

these cards for each song on fever are SO fucking cool and i love them so much. they're printed on really nice material too; they don't feel cheap and have this grainy feel to them too (idk how else to describe it) and it works so well. luckily i'm able to post individual pictures of each one.

so the back of all of them have the lyrics printed like that but i won't be able to post pictures of that for each one.

they just all encapsulate the theme of each song perfectly while also fitting so well with the aesthetic that they had this era. like my jaw dropped when i saw these for the first time. (side note: i'm not sure why they numbered intermission as number 12 when it should be 8 based on the album. i also don't know why they skipped introduction since they included intermission).

all in all, this is the coolest piece of merch a band has ever put out imo. like no one is doing it like this anymore. i'd been yearning for it since i was 14 so i'm so glad i was able to find it as such a steal of a price. i'll never shut up about owning it and if you're able to get your hands on it i cannot recommend it enough.

#panic! at the disco #panic at the disco #ryan ross #jon walker #spencer smith #brendon urie #patd #live in denver #a fever you can't sweat out #afycso #now i just need the pretty odd boxset and it will be complete #but thats consistently $400 so it's gonna be a while #sorry it took me so long to post this btw

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 days

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Paying for it doesn't make it a market

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me SATURDAY (Apr 27) in MARIN COUNTY, then Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Anyone who says "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product" has been suckered in by Big Tech, whose cargo-cult version of markets and the discipline they impose on companies.

Here's the way that story goes: companies that fear losing your business will treat you better, because treating you worse will cost them money. Since ad-supported media gets paid by advertisers, they are fine with abusing you to make advertisers happy, because the advertiser is the customer, and you are the product.

This represents a profound misunderstanding of how even capitalism's champions describe its workings. The purported virtue of capitalism is that it transforms the capitalist's greed into something of broad public value, by appealing to the capitalist's fear. A successful capitalist isn't merely someone figures out how to please their customers – they're also someone who figures out how to please their suppliers.

That's why tech platforms were – until recently – very good to (some of) their workforce. Technical labor was scarce and so platforms built whimsical "campuses" for tech workers, with amenities ranging from stock options to gourmet cafeterias to egg-freezing services for those workers planning to stay at their desks through their fertile years. Those workers weren't the "customer" – but they were treated better than any advertiser or user.

But when it came to easily replaced labor – testers, cleaning crew, the staff in those fancy cafeterias – the situation was much worse. Those workers were hired through cut-out shell companies, denied benefits, even made to enter via separate entrances on shifts that were scheduled to minimize the chance that they would ever interact with one of the highly paid tech workers at the firm.

Likewise, advertisers may be the tech companies' "customers" but that doesn't mean the platforms treat them well. Advertisers get ripped off just like the rest of us. The platforms gouge them on price, lie to them about advertising reach, and collude with one another to fix prices and defraud advertisers:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost

Now, it's true that the advertisers used to get a good deal from the platforms, and that it came at the expense of the users. Facebook lured in users by falsely promising never to spy on them. Then, once the users were locked in, Facebook flipped a switch, started spying on users from asshole to appetite, and then offered rock-bottom-priced, fine-grained, highly reliable ad-targeting to advertisers:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3247362

But once those advertisers were locked in, Facebook turned on them, too. Of course they did. The point of monopoly power isn't just getting too big to fail and too big to jail – it's getting too big to care:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

This is the thing that "if you're not paying for the product, you're the product" fails to comprehend. "If you're not paying for the product" is grounded in a cartoonish vision of markets in which "the customer is king" and successful businesses are those who cater to their customers – even at the expense of their workers and suppliers – will succeed.

In this frame, the advertiser is the platforms' customer, the customer is king, the platform inflicts unlimited harm upon all other stakeholders in service to those advertisers, the advertisers are so pleased with this white-glove service that they willingly pay a handsome premium to use the platform, and so the platform grows unimaginably wealthy.

But of course, if the platforms inflict unlimited harms upon their users, those users will depart, and then no amount of obsequious catering to advertisers will convince them to spend money on ads that no one sees. In the cargo-cult conception of platform capitalism, the platforms are able to solve this problem by "hacking our dopamine loops" – depriving us of our free will with "addictive" technologies that keep us locked to their platforms even when they grow so terrible that we all hate using them.

This means that we can divide the platform economy into "capitalists" who sell you things, and "surveillance capitalists" who use surveillance data to control your mind, then sell your compulsive use of their products to their cherished customers, the advertisers.

Surveillance capitalists like Google are thus said to have only been shamming when they offered us a high-quality product. That was just a means to an end: the good service Google offered in its golden age was just bait to trick us into handing over enough surveillance data that they could tune their mind-control technology, strip us of our free will, and then sell us to their beloved advertisers, for whom nothing is too good.

Meanwhile, the traditional capitalists – the companies that sell you things – are the good capitalists. Apple and Microsoft are disciplined by market dynamics. They won't spy on you because you're their customer, and so they have to keep you happy.

All this leads to an inexorable conclusion: unless we pay for things with money, we are doomed. Any attempt to pay with attention will end in a free-for-all where the platforms use their Big Data mind-control rays to drain us of all our attention. It is only when we pay with money that we can dicker over price and arrive at a fair and freely chosen offer.

This theory is great for tech companies: it elevates giving them money to a democracy-preserving virtue. It reframes handing your cash over to a multi-trillion dollar tech monopolist as good civics. It's easy to see why those tech giants would like that story, but boy, are you a sap if you buy it.

Because all capitalists are surveillance capitalists…when they can get away with it. Sure, Apple blocked Facebook from spying on Ios users…and then started illegally, secretly spying on those users and lying about it, in order to target ads to those users:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

And Microsoft spies on every Office 365 user and rats them out to their bosses ("Marge, this analytics dashboard says you're the division's eleventh-worst speller and twelfth-worst typist. Shape up or ship out!"). But the joke's on your boss: Microsoft also spies on your whole company and sells the data about it to your competitors:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/25/the-peoples-amazon/#clippys-revengel

The platforms screw anyone they can. Sure, they lured in advertisers with good treatment, but once those advertisers were locked in, they fucked them over just as surely as they fucked over their users.

The surveillance capitalism hypothesis depends on the existence of a hypothetical – and wildly improbably – Big Data mind-control technology that keeps users locked to platforms even when the platform decays. Mind-control rays are an extraordinary claim supported by the thinnest of evidence (marketing materials from the companies as they seek to justify charging a premium to advertisers, combined with the self-serving humblebrags of millionaire Prodigal Tech Bros who claim to have awakened to the evil of using their dopamine-hacking sorcerous powers on behalf of their billionaire employers).

There is a much simpler explanation for why users stay on platforms even as they decline in quality: they are enmeshed in a social service that encompasses their friends, loved ones, customers, and communities. Even if everyone in this sprawling set of interlocking communities agrees that the platform is terrible, they will struggle to agree on what to do about it: where to go next and when to leave. This is the economists' "collective action problem" – a phenomenon with a much better evidentiary basis than the hypothetical, far-fetched "dopamine loop" theory.

To understand whom a platform treats well and whom it abuses, look not to who pays it and who doesn't. Instead, ask yourself: who has the platform managed to lock in? The more any stakeholder to a platform stands to lose by leaving, the worse the platform can treat them without risking their departure. Thus the beneficent face that tech companies turn to their most cherished tech workers, and the hierarchy of progressively more-abusive conditions for other workers – worse treatment for those whose work-visas are tied to their employment, and the very worst treatment for contractors testing the code, writing the documentation, labelling the data or cleaning the toilets.

If you care about how people are treated by platforms, you can't just tell them to pay for services instead of using ad-supported media. The most important factor in getting decent treatment out of a tech company isn't whether you pay with cash instead of attention – it's whether you're locked in, and thus a flight risk whom the platform must cater to.

It's perfectly possible for market dynamics to play out in a system in which we pay with our attention by watching ads. More than 50% of all web users have installed an ad-blocker, the largest boycott in the history of civilization:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

Ad-supported companies make an offer: How about in exchange for looking at this content, you let us spy on you in ways that would make Orwell blush and then cram a torrent of targeted ads into your eyeballs?" Ad-blockers let you make a counter-offer: "How about 'nah'?"

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

But ad-blocking is only possible on an open platform. A closed, locked-down platform that is illegal to modify isn't a walled garden, a fortress that keeps out the bad guys – it's a walled prison that locks you in, a prisoner of the worst impulses of the tech giant that built it. Apple can defend you from other companies' spying ways, but when Apple decides to spy on you, it's a felony to jailbreak your Iphone and block Apple's surveillance:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

I am no true believer in markets – but the people who say that paying for products will "align incentives" and make tech better claim to believe in the power of markets to make everyone better off. But real markets aren't just places where companies sell things – they're also places where companies buy things. Monopolies short-circuit the power of customer choice to force companies to do better. But monopsonies – markets dominated by powerful buyers – are just as poisonous to the claimed benefits of markets.

Even if you are "the product" – that is, even if you're selling your attention to a platform to package up and sell to an advertiser – that in no way precludes your getting decent treatment from the platform. A world where we can avail ourselves of blockers, where interoperablity eases our exodus from abusive platforms, where privacy law sets a floor below which we cannot bargain is a world where it doesn't matter if you're "the product" or "the customer" – you can still get a square deal.

The platforms used to treat us well and now treat us badly. That's not because they were setting a patient trap, luring us in with good treatment in the expectation of locking us in and turning on us. Tech bosses do not have the executive function to lie in wait for years and years.

Rather, as tech platforms eliminated competition, captured their regulators and expanded their IP rights so that interoperability was no longer a threat, they became too big to care whether any of their stakeholders were happy. First they came for the users, sure, but then they turned on the publishers, the advertisers, and finally, even their once-pampered tech workers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

MLK said that "the law can't make a man love me, but it can stop him from lynching me." It's impossible to get tech bosses to believe you deserve care and decency, but you can stop them from abusing you. The way to do that is by making them fear you – by abolishing the laws that create lock-in, by legally enshrining a right to privacy, by protecting competition.

It's not by giving them money. Paying for a service does not make a company fear you, and anyone who thinks they can buy a platform's loyalty by paying for a service is a simp. A corporation is an immortal, transhuman colony organism that uses us as inconvenient gut-flora: no matter how much you love it, it will never love you back. It can't experience love – only fear.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/22/kargo-kult-kaptialism/#dont-buy-it

#pluralistic #if youre not paying for the product youre the product #competition #capitalists hate capitalism #discipline #market discipline #the old good internet

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nouvxllev · 1 month

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Hi loved your recent Jenna fic

I have a request where reader confesses their feelings to Jenna after a long friendship (you can figure out how long and that friendship if you want) and Jenna doesn’t really react and unfortunately something or someone interrupts them that forces them to push that topic aside or something then Jenna like shuts down because she goes over reader’s confession over and over because how did she not see it that what she felt towards reader was exactly the same thing which leads her to think over having a relationship with reader and how it’ll work or how it won’t work I’m rambling at this point so you can just take over from here if you want

Just something along those lines idk if that made sense you can ignore this if it doesn’t ha😅

so this is love?

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 4.7k (damn i expected it was gonna be more than 5k)

Warnings: a long fucking love confession!!! you'd think to yourself how did they even say that in one breath, jenna being the oblivious little shit, r and j.o is horrendously inlove w eachother its fuckng insane, kind of bittersweet kind of just sweet, several 7 husbands of evelyn hugo references, im yapping too much about love here

a/n: first of all, thank you so so much!! and hope you'll like this one anon, thank you for the idea!

masterlist.

"Y/n, I'm thinking about changing this scene. Just a slight bit, nothing too over the top. What'd you think?"

"Yeah? Oh, yeah. Definitely."

"But it's such a late change—fuck, I should've told Tim a little earlier. You think he's gonna get frustrated? Then again, he's a sweet guy, I don't think he will."

"Jenna. Jenna, I like you. So fucking much. It's spontaneous, a little on the weird side that I'm telling you this now in your Wednesday Addams get up with a script on your hands asking me if your idea is good or not, even if it is—everything you do is amazing—but I'm in love with you for little over a year now and it's tearing me apart so please just reject me so I can move on."

"Yeah, yeah I like the idea too but—what?"

"I like you. Jenna."

. . .

Here's the thing:

You give a poet paper, they will embellish it with their words. People will mourn over their unfortunately late mortal soul enclosed with a tomb that carries their quill and ink.

You give a painter a blank canvas with nothing but their own mind, they will create a sensation, a masterpiece, a tour de force. People will gaze upon it in awe, so valuable they will waste a fortune.

You give a musician a silent room, an auditorium with nothing but a few instruments and tarnished worksheets. They will make out of it, they will fill the room with melodies that no one would hear, yet the very vibrations would resonate with the walls.

But if someone gives out their heart to you, they will pour it all over you. They will reprogram their own organ so that it beats solely for you. They will rip it out of their chest in bleeding agony and give it to you with no price more than their own faith.

You are given no options other than cherish it, treasure it, be thankful someone admires you as such they will do anything and everything for a piece of your attention, maybe even reciprocation.

You are also given the option to trample on it, break it, shatter it into minuscule pieces that have no intention in restoring to it's formal use. Let it be nothing but a bullet to their own decision, to their own emotion, to their own choice to love you.

Jenna was given those options. None other from her friend since the day she became an actress at a young age, a childhood friend even. What now?

. . .

"...What?"

The brunette responded, murmured even, like she was out of breath. The corner of her lips forced themselves to tug into an awkward smile.

What else are you going to respond with if you're stuck in a situation where your friend of a decade, nearly how long Jenna has been in this fucking industry, tells you that they're in love with you?

You shook your head, noticing how Jenna's gaze flicker to your fidgeting hands. "I like you, Jenna. Like, like you. I love you—no, that's crossing the line. But I just... like you, Jenna. Don't you get it?"

Jenna blinked. So much for being in character. She scoffed, albeit playful, running her fingers through Wednesday's fringe, "Yeah. I like you too. We are friends. Best of friends."

You shook your head once more, slowly taking a step forward towards Jenna like you were cautious. "No, Jenna, I—" you sighed, "I like you. Romantically. Like I'm willing to be in a relationship with you like way."

Oh.

Jenna swallowed the ever growing lump in her throat, feeling her eyebrows crease yet a smile was still present on her face. Her lips parted, threatening to say anything that just comes to her mind at this point. "You… you're serious?" Her voice wavered.

"Very. Dead serious." You nodded, gulping in your own words like you were trying to swallow them whole.

"I don't want our friendship to die out because of this, I wished I should've stopped my mouth from rambling all this to you so spontaneously but I—I should've done it more romantically than this setting. I've been in love with you my whole life, I've loved you for as long as I can remember even if I lose my memories. I'm not a romantic soul, I'm more far from it, and I'll never find the words even if I'm given a lifetime to describe how much I love you. I'm… I'm not saying all of this so you could reciprocate what I feel, it's just that I'll be lying to myself everytime I breath if I don't tell you this. You're my colleague, my co-star, my friend, my childhood, my everything ever since we met on that set of that god-awful ad that I cannot for the life of me watch again. I noticed that I talk to you almost everyday, how I adapted to your weird fucking horror movies that I absolutely somehow love, how I—I bought a stupid vinyl because you liked the artist, how I started listening to your music taste, how I started writing poems, how you always manage to sneak up in my conversations with others. You don't have to even be there, and yet, you linger in my words. I would surrender everything I worked for just for you, I would do anything, sacrifice my time and all. You've been all of those and more, and it's shocking that I'm only saying this now, after five years of loving you, half of the time we've known each other."

Jenna was silent, her lips parting as if to speak, but her mind held her back. But her heart did everything to speak, yet it never came.

She was lost, unsure, afraid. She didn't understand, and she fears that you know she doesn't. She never will unless time so happens to be on her side. Breathing was the only option, and breathing out was her only relief that she was alive.

She looked at you, and you looked at her back. No words exchanged. Your hands are now fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, pulling the loose strings apart as you catch your breath.

Jenna could grab your hand, apologize, and reject you. She could throw everything you both had built and walk away, leaving you behind to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart.

Maybe that both of you will go to separate paths after filming was over. Maybe you'd tear away the contract that stated that in all your shows, Jenna should be there.

But the thought pained her.

It's painful, it's torture, it's agony, it's suffering to live in that universe where you weren't the one Jenna calls when it's a rainy day. The universe where Jenna stays awake, mellowing in her own woe, not knowing who to turn to, who to call at the dead of night. The universe where every poem on her phone, on her paper, on her notes, on every surface she had the ability to write on, wasn't meant for you.

Do you refer to that as love?

"Y/n, I... I just need some—"

"Y/n! There you are."

Shit.

Tim cut Jenna off, approaching the both of them, but more primarily you.

"Y/n, makeup team, and Jenna, your scene."

It all took Tim nothing but to speak seven words for the both of them to pry their eyes off eachother and remind themselves it was a professional setting. With professional actors and professional feelings. Nothing personal, is what Tim would say.

Jenna was an actor. You were an actor, her co-star.

That just so happens to be in love with her.

You nodded as you looked right at Tim, your gaze leaving Jenna for the first time.

Jenna was desperate to hold your hand, take a firm grip of your wrist and to tell you to 'stay' or 'don't go' like what they do at cheesy romance movies where the guy gets the girl.

But it wasn't. Jenna would've loved you if it were a movie.

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

The question still arises on set. Dressed up as Wednesday, cameras rolling, her mind wandering nowhere near the scene but your trailer.

What do you do when a friend confesses their love to you?

A friend who's been a familiar presence in Jenna's life, a friend who's been there since Jenna learned her heart yearned for others, how it beats for other people.

Someone through every moment of self-doubt, they saved her when she couldn't save herself. Through struggles that Jenna considered could be something to gash her mending heart, but they would offer a piece of theres in exchange for happiness in her.

A friend she loves.

It's a simple. You fold your heart in half, maybe even in fourths, then tuck it away in the deepest depths of your pocket. You might stamp it, decorate it, perhaps even address it to none other than your soulmate.

What do you do if you don’t know your soulmate?

You look for them. Jenna never looked for love outside of her family or friends; her heart was content with the familiar comfort of their love. Those were the types of love she knew. She had never felt the need to pursue romance.

Probably because everyone sees some others as they want them to be in their own head. They fall in love with the idea of them, the person they want them to be. An idealized version only they see fit to their desires, a false projection.

Most people would call her beautiful or pretty. She would pass the street and people would look at her, stare at her, look at her up and down, maybe even subtly lick their lips. They look up at her like she’s a force they cannot compete with, like she wasn’t human. Not amongst them. They will compliment her base on her appearance, and in rare cases, on how talented she is.

But someone would call her glorious, like Greece, and grandeur like Rome. Someone would call her lovely, not in a way everyone calls her, but someone would look up at her with eyes that feel like they’re borrowing, harnessing even, the energy of a thousand suns to even look at her. Like she was a garden. But yet, they would also look at her like she was an old friend. An old soul, the soul that could melt yours but still be so comforting.

And it was you.

Most people would look at her and smile. Say hi, wave a greeting, a handshake if it was really needed.

But you look at her as if you were seeing something more, as if Jenna had never seen a person more in awe that you when you look at her. Like how the sun would be nothing without her, how you'll spend your whole life loving her and nothing more, how you look at her and she feels though as if she has never been admired in her whole life. If she was someone intolerable, someone unbearable, suffering to a degree you'd rather die, and you would. But only if it were in her arms.

Most people would describe her as someone talented, art, hot, stunning, sexy. Like she was nothing but a piece of imagination to someone, like her good traits were the only characteristics that made her Jenna Ortega.

But you would turn all of those down. You would say, no, in the face of the interviewer. You would say that she was the renaissance reincarnated as a single human, that was beauty in everything imperfect, she was the art that would put the Sistine Chapel to shame, the sculpture that would have Michelangelo resurrecting from the dead only to lie back of how undoubtedly perfect and impossible to replicate the pure astonishing beauty that was her.

You were an old friend of Jenna, the two of you were ever since Jenna played young Jane in Jane the virgin at twelve years old and you had approached her as an extra to be her somewhat, co-star-in-the-future-friend.

And now, she's only imagining what would've happened if you hadn't been the big ball of sunshine that you always were up until now.

There were times that you would make her laugh, putting up a half-assed comedy show whenever she's in a bad mood, but then you'll give her space if she doesn't budge. Times where you would hold her close in your arms whenever she's on the verge of tears, and times where you hold her close to you whenever she achieved something.

There were times she wasn't proud of herself, how self-doubt creeped into her mind and slowly started to deteriorate her soul, yet you were there. You called her brilliant, a genius, someone show-stopping people from all around the world would be shocked how amazing she was and a few other words that she kept close to her heart.

There were times where Jenna calls you, telling you how filming was all too stressful and she needs a break. Then you're with her the next day, surprisingly becoming an extra or maybe a new side character to her films.

You were always saying how you would protect her at the age of twelve, and she'd always respond with "how?" with a laugh, then you'd respond with a simple shrug saying, "I'd love you."

Jenna didn't understand it at first and yet you understood her in such a short amount of time. How you knew why she always has her headphones on, how you wrote down and knew at the top of a hat what she likes and what she hates, how your laugh sounded at her most darkest of jokes, how you would bring back snacks whenever you're on a run, how you would always say 'i love you' in times where she's breaking down.

And up until now, she never understood why you would protect her with your love.

Jenna was your friend but you treated her like she was your everything.

And up until now, she realized that she loved you back.

And up until now, she realized how could she even dare to live without giving you the same love as you did to her?

People tell you that relationships are easy, that they're lovely, that they tell you that love is the only thing that keeps the both of them going.

But they don't tell you the rest.

They don't tell the pain you want to go through all for your significant other. The nights you want them to be in your arms but you've gone through yet another foolish argument that created a hole in your heart that seem to never mend, but it will.

It made sense that Jenna never wanted to be in a relationship, it was scary. The answer to a question as such was always going to be no. How there was always someone going to be hurt or inflict hurt.

But it never made sense that Jenna would experience pain with no presence of mercy to be with you.

Everyone talks about falling out of love, but that's bullshit. If you fall out of love, then there must be a reason you should've never fell from them in the first place. It's something Jenna never understood why falling out of love was never a thing if love prospered and it was for all eternity.

But the thought of being in a relationship with you, and having to watch you fall out of love with her is terrifying.

The two of you would work because the both of you are long friends, childhood friends. Yet, it won't. Because the two of you were friends. What would happen if Jenna let you in the most deepest parts of her heart? What would happen if you did? Would you get turned off? Would she get turned off? She wouldn't. You wouldn't

If no one had stopped Jenna in the midst of her performance as Wednesday, she wouldn't notice she was messing up her lines. She wouldn't have noticed that she was crying.

But she did notice that one familiar scent you always carried around you; that one perfume mixed with the shampoo you used everyday. Jenna was around you her whole life and she never got tired of it. It could be the smell of her home, like that one familiar scent at your childhood home.

It wasn't long before she felt a pair of two hands grabbing her shoulders, tugging her gently, and it wasn't long before she felt herself walking with them.

The voices were drowned out, muffled, she can hear someone saying to "let her take a break until she's feeling better. Emma, your scene."

"Jenna?"

"Jenna, please, talk to me, why are you crying?"

"Shit—Jenna? Jenna, it's alright, I'm—Well, I shouldn't probably be here."

She knew that voice. How could she forget them?

It wasn't fair that Jenna's heart skipped a beat once she heard your pitch, like you were worried or concerned. She recognized it all too well that it brought a sense of comfort in her soul.

"Y/n?" She whispered, noticing how you brought her into your trailer and sat her down. "Shit. Fuck, I'm supposed to be on set. Y/n, why am I—"

"Jenna. Jenna, hey, look at me," you grabbed her hands, your touch a bit too warm as you held hers tightly, but it never failed to give her peace. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not the one who should be doing this since you know, the whole shit that happened an hour ago."

Jenna looked down at your hands, your thumb slowly caressing the back of her palm, a silent permission. A permission she would always grant with open arms. Or maybe hands in this case.

You nodded, fixing yourself up on the couch as you look at Jenna. "We're gonna take deep breaths, alright? I'll be here, don't worry." You squeezed her hand in reassurance.

"No, y/n, I—I need to tell you something, please—"

"Jenna." You sighed, noticing how it wasn't out of annoyance but out of concern. "Your voice is cracking, you're stuttering, you're in a higher pitch than you are normally. And more importantly, you have tears in your eyes." You would sooner or later interlock your fingers with Jenna's offering another reassuring squeeze. "I'll protect you. You're safe with me, don't worry, please, Jenna."

Oh.

. . .

You know, people think sex is intimacy, the highest form of intimacy there is.

But they're wrong.

It’s being able to realize something heartbreaking, something that cuts you deep in your soul to the point where no amount of bandages will help. But somehow, someway, someone so special could heal it with their words.

It’s where you can be vulnerable with someone, be happy, be sad, be angry, be every emotion you’re afraid surrendering to. They will wrap their arms around you and whisper to you that they’re there for you. You’re safe with them.

It’s when you realize that heaven couldn’t be real if it isn’t with them.

It's when you realize that everyone got it wrong in perceiving them, noticing how you're the only one who truly understands them.

It’s when you realize every living and late poet was wrong in their writings, in their words, in their books. Love wasn’t an emotion, it wasn’t a choice. It was someone. Someone special.

It’s when you realize if ever you’ve completely turned the whole world against you, the time where you’ve devastated everyone in turn for your own selfish needs. Yet you will find yourself standing in front of them. Realizing you’ve spared them from your wrath.

You expect them to hurt you. To break you, to do everything within and over their power to make you experience the same pain you’ve inflicted.

Yet they will show no betrayal.

They will simply show understanding, awe even. Love. They will catch if you if you fall from the top you’ve tore and exhausted yourself. They will sing to you if you feel every melody has nothing. They will do everything, they will accept you, not only because of you, but because of what you carry, what you’re pretending not to be.

Love was never easy, Jenna knew that. You don’t listen to Pat Benatar or The Cascades to not know what true love does to someone; It will shatter you, then mend your now fragile heart like its nothing. It will let you experience grief, then peace. It will let you feel nothing, then everything. It’s not simple, never is. It’s complicated, it’s fucked up. It’s terrifying. So fucking terrifying.

But if Jenna was going to experience everything she’s thinking of right now; Agonizing heartache that feels like mercy isn’t even an option, and peace she had never felt before, it was going to be with you.

. . .

"Jenna? Jenna are you—"

She had never really truly felt luxury in a while until she let her trembling hands reach up to cup your cheeks, stealing one glance away from your eyes before closing her own and softly pressing her lips against yours.

What do you say to a friend you realized you’ve fallen in love with now?

Maybe you’d kiss them, like what Jenna is doing now. Let yourself bring peace in your world that is full of unjust morals—let them be a light, be something that felt half as right as loving the taste of their lips on yours.

Maybe you'd let them into your world. Remind them of how they're the only ones in this life were worth devoting your entire life to, how being in their presence was an experience of a life time.

Maybe you'd let them care about your entire being. Let yourself be vulnerable, be free within their arms. Let them tell you that they're going no where but to where you're headed, that peace only belongs to a place where you're present.

Maybe you’d tell them how you like the way they look at their belongings like it was their favorite part of the day? Tell them how they make you feel that everything is possible, how you knew that you’ll be living as much as they would be smiling.

Or maybe, Jenna would say this,

"Y/n," she broke off the kiss, her hands returning to her lap and intertwining with yours. "I'm sorry. I couldn't give a proper reaction to your confession earlier. It was so stupid of me I—"

You laughed. Fuck, your laugh was beautiful.

"Don't worry, Jenna. You don't really feel the same way as I do, and that's fine. I just—I just hope it won't ruin our friendship, you know?"

Jenna scoffed, eyebrows creasing, "No, y/n, give me time to talk, please." She laughed, then took a deep breath.

"I love you, y/n. I never really realized that, I mistook them for something lesser. Mostly because love wasn’t the right term to describe it. Love is simple, fast, overused, something tossed around so carelessly that it couldn't be something I'd say to you; you don’t deserve such a weak word that has no meaning but tarnished from other people. It’s not complex, like how you’re represented in my soul, how you grown ivy around my heart as if I’m trapped in your unbearable love, yet why do I accept such an idea that is only a metaphor that I wish it were true? It's clear that no one knows me greater than you have. It happens more often than not that people will see right through me, only to find a barricade of walls that reflects repressed emotions that keep them from entering. But you tell a different story, different words that people don’t use to tear at my heart. You whisper something so precious that I wish to hear again but I shouldn't before I fall. You unravel my soul with a gentleness that defies everything, that makes me wonder where pure tenderness comes from if it isn't from you. I've known you for long enough to know what the sound of your voice is in, whether your anxious or joyful, how your voice is the sole reason why I sleep without your arms wrapped around my body. I want nothing but to hold you in my arms, to lie beside you in nothing but eternal slumber then rise again if you are ever disturbed. I want to fear nothing, to be afraid of nothing, to have death be a mere word unless your name is next towards it. My name is always associated with me being an actress, a talented one, someone who would no longer be a name hidden in the dust but someone who would rise to the top. A glamorous world is what they would tell me, everything I would want is granted. But why aren't you there in the vision they see? The lover that I yearn for, a home that would finally bring me peace, the home that I wouldn't escape from with bare melodies that lay emotions that I couldn't voice. I just—Fuck, I love you, y/n. Through a decade we've been together, it's only now that I realize that life without you is simply a life worth killing myself to. Death shouldn't be an option when you're around me, it should be something we'll defy, an afterlife that would fail in making us part ways from eachother. I love you. Really. I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to say or do, but I love you. I've realized that."

The silence was unbearable, only now did she realize she blurted out a confession only those who're dead can say in a sentence without stuttering.

"No, no Jenna…" You pushed her hands away from yours, the action stinging her own hands as you stepped back, putting unfamiliar distance between the two of you.

"Y/n, what?" She scoffed, her voice betraying her of a flat tone, "What do you mean, I thought—" Jenna immediately reached out for your arm, her words were faltering, her fingers now trembling as they threatened to brush against your skin.

She was expecting to get yelled at to leave, to never show her face to yours ever again. But as she looked into your eyes, she was met with tears that dared to glisten your gaze. "Are you… are you crying?"

You chuckled, "You know… You know I can't compete with that confession, Jenna. It's unfair to those who don't have a habit of staying up late and writing poems." You brought your hands up to your eyes and wiping away the tears that fell on your cheek, only to be replaced by warm ones.

Jenna cupped your face, her thumb caressing the gentle touch and warmth of your skin, feeling how you leaned into her touch almost immediately. "Oh, you're awful. You had me worrying that I said something wrong or you changed your mind."

"Oh, no, never." You laughed it away, shrugging the tears that continue to stain your face. Then, without a word, you reached up to cradle her own face in your hands, letting her place them down on your lap and close the remaining distance of the two of you that were seated far too apart from eachother.

"I never really thought that you'd say yes. Or say something too poetic." You whispered to her, daring yourself to not drown in her pool of brown eyes that threatened to kill you if you looked too closely.

"I never really thought that I would truly love someone, and look at that turned out."

"Like what?"

"Like I never wanted to love someone more than I loved everything." She tilted her head, leaning forward and closing the distance between your lips and hers. A soft but gentle press to your own, yet it was fervent.

She pulled away, only so slightly that your lips never touched eachother again before they fall into the same predicament as addiction. But close that she could feel your heartbeat, your warm breath against hers, everything that made you you.

"So, this is love?" She whispered.

"Dangerously attractive in a form of a human?" You smirked, winking even, before Jenna rolled her eyes.

She scoffed, "I was going to take you out to dinner, but you are awful at charming someone."

"Take me out to dinner and I'll never make that statement again."

"Deal. I'd splurge a shit ton of money for you not to repeat it ever again."

"You pain me. I love you."

"I love you too."

And then she kissed you, holding you tight as if reminding you're more than just a friend.

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a/n: i'm in a desperate need of a girlfriend. also in the span of my 1 week break ive written only 2 stories. its such a low number damn 😭😭😭 (+ then he kissed by by the crystals reference at the end!)

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x femreader #jenna ortega x female reader

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hecs · 5 months

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꒰͡ 𐙚 ͡꒱ 이희승，concert date.

ㅠㅠ ； you and your boyfriend, heeseung decided to go to your idol concert together.

౨ৎ p. ⋆ idol!heeseung x idol!reader ౨ৎ ！ ⋆ established relationship, fluff, concert date, reader has a brother, kissing, PDA, (if there's more, pls let me know!) not proofread. ౨ৎ an ⋆ hahaha... another heeseung fic.. r we surprised? oh and i never buy a ticket before so i don't know how they work

your idol is doing a world tour right now and one of the shows is in Seoul. the public knew how much you loved them and you even covered their songs.

the ticketing day was hell. you and your boyfriend decided to have the VIP sit, you are not worried about the price, but you're worried if you won't make it. you hold heeseung's hand tightly as the screen says "loading" and tells you to wait. heeseung's thumb rubbed your hand and kissed it, trying to relax you. and it worked. you managed to calm down a little and wait for the screen to load to a new page.

you're jumping into happiness as the screen says that you made it through the waiting list and managed to get VIP tickets for you and heeseung.

TIME SKIP...

you stood behind the railing, your left hand was around his neck while heeseung's right arm wrapped around your waist. a big smile plastered on your face. anyone who sees you knows right away that you're having a great time.

you were enjoying the show too much to not notice how Heeseung's focus was on you the entire time instead of on the idol performing meters away from him. but people noticed. they noticed how his eyes softened every time he looked at you, they noticed how he looked like he fell in love with you all over again. they noticed how he looked so happy with you, how he's like a whole different person with you.

they were giving some speech, and you finally looked to your left, meeting with your favorite pair of bambi eyes. "finally giving me some attention, princess?", he raised his eyebrow with a smirk growing on his face. you chuckled, "You're the one who wants to go here with me, so suck it up", you stick your tongue out. you could feel him squeezing your waist after you said that. "yeah whatever", he said, playfully rolling his eyes.

you turned your head towards the stage, admiring them. "they're crazy. I can't believe I finally got to see them. it feels like a fever dream", you said, your right hand covering your mouth. you kept on saying something but heeseung couldn't concentrate on whatever you were saying, his whole focus and eyes were on your lips.

"I was jealous that my brother could go last year, he kept on-", when his lips were finally on yours, heeseung could swear that he felt a wave of relief washing over him. heeseung brings his left hand to your waist, bringing you to him. you were surprised but your right hand felt like it was moving on its own to his nape, pulling him as close as possible. his head tilted to the side, deepening the kiss.

as much as you and heeseung wanted the kiss to last longer, the need for oxygen is disturbing you two. the both of you pulled away and heeseung rested his forehead against yours. sound of heavy breathing could be heard coming from you both. heeseung grinned at you, leaning in to give you some quick pecks all over your face except your lips. "heeseung! it tickles", you let out a giggle. "and lastly", he spoke before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

man, you could say that the media were having a field day that day. you and heeseung became a popular topic on Twitter after the clip went viral. But, it's not like you both care anyway.

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alicerosejensen · 6 months

Text

Find me

Warning: mention of blood, violence (physical and psychological), mention of viruses, parasites, zombies; kidnapping; the reader has a slight anemia; Fem/reader; established relationship with Leon.

Synopsis: You could have a quiet wedding and a good life with the person you love most in the world. Leon was ready to protect you to the death from his enemies and viruses but… it seems that someone is also interested in you. And the price for life will be very high.

A/N: The idea from this post that I wrote about quite a long time ago. "Together forever" I'm not very good at writing (apparently the Yandere theme is not mine, no matter how much I like it). So I'm going to try this plot. I don't know how many parts there will be, but if everything goes well, then probably a lot (maybe 10-12 or so). I hope someone likes it because I have serious notes on this work in my notebook, as if these are sketches for the 9th part of the resident).

Tags will be added to the following parts. I was very much inspired by the remaster and Haunting ground when I was taking notes. After all, both games were made by Capcom.

Feedback is welcome (but no insults!)

Sometimes the worst horror happens in the name of love. It's not the worst plot for books, films or paintings that are more than a hundred years old and it's impossible not to admit that sometimes we want to be loved until our death.

And maybe after it.

The words sound soft, with a slight taste of regret, as if somewhere between the letters there is a treacherous "I'm sorry". But in fact it was so predictable. Leon hugs you too tightly, experiencing an inexhaustible sense of guilt, because he promised to decide together where you will spend your honeymoon, which is unlikely to last exactly a month, he promised to watch a movie with you that you have been planning for a long time and… and everything went to hell.

Leon nuzzles your cheek and devoutly kisses you gently, leaving a wet trail with his eyes closed. Another sign of his eternal love, his lips are imprinted on the bridge of your nose, making you smile from the slight tickle caused by his stubble. He had no power over not being called to work for at least another week, but the government is not interested in the personal life of his best agent. And yet you enjoy the way he puts his arm around your waist, holding you as tightly as he can.

"Okay, Mr. Kennedy," you joke kindly, inhaling the almost faded scent of his cologne. "I forgive you, once again. Run to save the world" You smile looking into his crystal blue eyes filled with sadness and longing.

"I promise that I will ask the authorities for a good vacation," Leon swears very sensually, continuing to hold you tightly in his hands and look with those puppy eyes from which the soul is torn apart and kisses again this time on the forehead, "If necessary, I will harness Ingrit and no one will bother us. We'll plan everything the way you want, even if it's a tour of all the castles in Europe"

You laugh sincerely, removing the bangs from his face, hoping to stretch the moment of intimacy with him longer. It was so warm and safe next to him that you snuggled up to his chest and he gently cradled you in his arms like a child.

"Don't do anything stupid in my absence"

"I still need to do an exhibition and maybe I'll finally clean up the bookcase," you lie knowing full well that the books will still lie randomly on the shelves and you won't even touch them. Actually, your work was the only thing that could save you from the all-consuming longing for Leon.

"Be careful, okay?" with some hidden fear, he asks, reluctantly releasing you from the ring of embraces. "I'll call as soon as I get a free minute and I'll really be back soon"

Leon is already out on the street and you follow him with a sad look, noticing some dark car to the side. Rightly deciding that they came for him, you lower your head, sighing heavily and literally taken aback when Leon's lips abruptly cover yours with a demanding and somewhat rude kiss that you forget how to breathe. At some point you try to seize the initiative, but strong hands push you against the wall and you hit the back of your head a little painfully, allowing him to dominate. As always.

"I would eat you right here," Leon said sarcastically and quietly stroking your hips, "But I really have to go."

And you silently bite your lower lip while watching him move away from you and get on his bike.

Well, that cool car wasn't for him, but this thought quickly leaves your head and in the end, tired of standing on the street, you just go back into the house, closing the door, grabbing the phone and immediately sending him an impatient "I miss you already." However, this does not prevent you from also ordering food with home delivery and watching some movie to pass the evening that was hopelessly spoiled.

The evening really became disgusting, neither delicious food saved him, nor a good movie will save him.

"Complete shit" a quiet curse came off your lips when you looked at the phone screen for the hundredth time in the evening and endlessly reread Leon's last message "My love…" which seems to have been imbued with such despair that tears came to your eyes. He was like a big kid who couldn't live a day without you and besides, only with you his sleep was like a more or less healthy one. You were his only light and he wanted that light to stay with him forever. Well, you could send him a hundred more messages, but it's unlikely that he will have the opportunity to read them in the next few hours or even days. So with bitterness, you just turned off the TV and went to the bathroom to get ready for an earlier than usual sleep.

Hot water pleasantly calmed and warmed the skin flowing down the body. You spent 15 minutes in the shower, brushing your teeth and doing all the usual and favorite cosmetic procedures, smeared your body with a lotion with a pleasant floral scent, waiting for it to soak into pale skin. The mood even improved a little when you changed into pajamas and straightened the bed once more before putting your head on the pillow and looking at the phone.

Nothing.

There's no point blaming Leon or doubting his love. It wasn't up to him. Sometimes he was dragged out of bed late at night and you could not see him for weeks without even being able to talk on the phone for one minute. But when he returned, he turned into a puppy clinging to his beloved owner and covered your body with a lot of kisses, not letting you get out of bed. Not that you mind… You always miss him and worry about him.

Sighing, you turn over on your side, putting the phone on the bedside table and not seeing the desired message from your fiance. Therefore, grabbing Leon's pillow, the lungs are filled with his smell and instead of feeling his presence, you experience only a deep feeling tearing apart that makes your heart beat a little faster.

And closing your eyes, you reach for the switch, when suddenly for a second the phone quickly notifies you of a new message from the addressee next to whose name the heart turns red.

"Don't forget to take the pills that the doctor prescribed for you. I want this sickly pallor to disappear. Love you"

Well, smiling, you took a screenshot of the message for some reason, saving it in your gallery on your phone. After sending Leon the answer, you still remembered that you really forgot about those pills once again, but you didn't want to get up anymore, so you left this matter for the morning. Sighing once again, trying his luck in the hope that Leon would write something else, your mobile was treacherously silent while you were just flipping through the social media feed.networks thinking only about how dependent you are on this man. However, the same can be said about him. The phone went out, as did the light in the bedroom, and sleep slowly overtook your mind when you hugged else's pillow without hearing quiet footsteps in the next room. The uninvited guest, thanks to Leon, had to tinker a lot with the lock of the front door before he unlocked it, quietly closing it behind him so as not to attract your attention while you were in the shower. Merging with the surrounding darkness, it was necessary to wait for the right time and prepare the syringe so that everything went as it should and the target was quietly neutralized without attracting the attention of neighbors.

The order was well paid and the fact that Leon left the house on that day was only to his advantage. After all, a government agent can ruin everything and getting rid of him threatened big problems that were not needed by anyone, but who will remember about his pretty bride, about whom he will probably quickly forget everything himself? The unknown person only needed to stick a pomeranian, inject the substance and quietly take the target out of the house by throwing a fake note with a handwriting similar to yours that you and Leon do not see the future for yourself. Pick up a few personal items and throw them in the nearest trash as proof of the truthful departure of the unfaithful bride.

Not the worst plan, especially since Leon Kennedy will think about your disappearance and how natural it is, no one really cares. Even if he suspects this ill-conceived plan, by that time you will be too far away from here anyway.

The problem was solved by itself because you are a simple art worker did not pose any threat even if you tried to resist. One step, two… the blessed victim will not suspect anything until the very moment when someone else's hand in a black glove closes her mouth and sticks a needle into her body. You fall asleep without suspecting anything, somehow reflexively reaching to the left side where Leon usually sleeps with his back to the bedroom door.

You are separated by literally a few meters from each other before one inept movement spoils everything.

The sound of falling books that Leon has been asking you to arrange exactly for so long makes you open your eyes by squeezing the pillowcase of the pillow and the "guest" freeze without touching the door handle. However, you felt a gaze on you that did not let you be deceived that someone had entered the house.

In Leon's bedside table there is a 9mm pistol fully loaded. It's not that you were very accurate, but Leon took you to a place as entertainment, where you trained shooting at targets under the watchful eye.

"not the worst result for a beginner," he said condescendingly so as not to upset you, but it was fun even if the gun was real.

Except now there are no jokes! You heard another step towards your side and held your breath, gathering strength for a jerk to pull out the gun and remove it from the safety. From fear, the heart beat faster, causing the blood to roar in your ears and before the intruder's hand landed on your face, you abruptly rolled to the left side of the bed, throwing a pillow at the person standing over you, winning for yourself a couple of seconds from his confusion.

Jumping to your feet, you quickly grabbed the gun pointing it at the man with trembling hands, removing it from the safety.

"Your own life is more expensive," you thought when a man of impressive size in a mask stood a meter away from you without a weapon, because his goal is to deliver you alive because you will not be of any use dead.

You held his floor at gunpoint, but your hands were shaking from the unusual weight and you really wanted to lower them down, but you held on trying not to panic. A step towards you and you pulled the trigger without aiming so stupidly hitting the closet, startled by the loud noise of the shot, immediately shrinking and from unaccustomed frightened by the strong recoil of the weapon.

"Fuck," he swore loudly, immediately rushing to you, forcing you to scream at the top of your voice while miraculously dodging. Rushing to the door, the first thought was to run outside and ask for help from neighbors, especially since the sound of a gunshot and a woman's scream certainly did not go unnoticed and someone probably should have already called the police. We just need to hold out. However, you only managed to jump out into the corridor when suddenly a strong man's hand roughly grabbed you by the hand in which you were holding a gun and your finger pressed the hook again making a shot.

Again a loud noise, your screams and a small hole in the ceiling.

Again the bullet flew by.

"Get off me, you bastard!"

A ringing slap in the face and you abruptly fell to the floor dropping the gun somewhere to the side. He immediately hung over you, but grabbing the first book that came to hand, you threw it in her man's face and taking advantage of another hitch jumped to her feet, running on without thinking about how much lip hurts.

And yet, the chances of escape were initially small, especially when shortness of breath began due to anemia and the chest began to ache sharply. A deep breath did not help even if your body was filled with adrenaline, he still knocked you to the floor, pressing your whole body to the floor, taking that ill-fated syringe out of your pocket and sticking it into you by quickly pressing the plunger . It only takes a few minutes, but because of your screams and shots, even they could put the entire mission under the "failed" icon, so without wasting even these precious minutes, the kidnapper grabs you by the hair and just hits your head on the floor suppressing resistance at the root. The world before your eyes becomes hazy and barely audible when a strange and unusual feeling of lightness covers you despite the pain in your head.

"Bitch ruined everything"

This bastard threw you over his shoulder and quickly ran out of the house, leaving the syringe lying there on the floor because there was no more time. Throwing you carelessly like a sack into the backseat, he slammed the door and gave gas to get away from the crime scene as soon as possible and dump the tail by moving to another car. They'll pay him well anyway.

You only blurred vision being on the verge of consciousness silently watched your loss until a long sleep covered you.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #leon resident evil #resident evil leon #leon kennedy resident evil #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon scott kennedy x reader

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carppediem · 7 months

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I just came across this interview Käärijä gave for an Estonian magazine before the Tallinn gig and thought I'd share it with y'all! He talks about saving money to buy a house, why he quit drinking etc. Also, there are some new interesting things he said about Tommy 👀

Since the article is behind a paywall (and in Estonian) I've put a rough, heavily Google-assisted translation under the cut 👇

There are a few minutes left until the concert. How do you feel?

I feel great, but I'm a little tired because I didn't sleep well.

Did you have a party yesterday?

No party, I'm focused on the European tour. Yesterday was a live in Sweden, from there I flew to Finland at five o'clock in the morning and from there to here. But I'm one hundred percent ready for a show. It doesn't matter how tired I am, I give my best on stage.

You recently released the single 'It's Crazy, It's Party' with Tommy Cash. When Tommy met the members of the band Little Big, they drank a lot of vodka. What did you and Tommy drink?

Haha, I haven't had a drink with Tommy yet.

Not even a Pina Colada?

No. Maybe someday Tommy and I will have a drink, although I don't think he drinks much. And you know, I don't drink anymore either. I stopped drinking a month ago. I need to keep my energy up. When you give as many concerts as I do now, you have to take care of yourself. Drinking and performing hand in hand is extremely difficult both physically and mentally, not to mention how bad it affects the vocal cords. I had the biggest hangover of my life this summer, which put the brakes on my drinking. I went to a music festival with a friend where we drank too much. The next day I had to perform at the same festival. The hangover was so bad that I really didn't know how to get myself on stage with the terrible feeling and the summer heat. But I pulled myself together and did the show. This experience is also one of the reasons why I don't drink anymore.

What kind of person is Tommy?

He is a visionary and very witty - a lot of fun with him. And of course he's cute. I think we have something in common, like we both have our own style. Tommy surprises with crazy outfits: extraordinary hairstyles, extravagant clothing, which are complemented by boleros. In short, insane costumes.

After Eurovision, you started a real concert rally - you gave 51 concerts in the summer alone. Do you want to become a millionaire?

Of course I do! One day I will definitely be a millionaire. I don't keep track of how much money I have in the bank and how much I'm short of six figures. But yes, I'm trying to collect a million euros.

Will the goal be met this year?

No, not yet. It will still take a few years. I've had an insane amount of performances after Eurovision, because I was like a kid in a candy store who wants everything at once, but by now I've drawn the line because I can't perform everywhere. I also set myself a price tag, below which I will not allow myself to go anywhere. If you do 300 shows a year, you're screwed.

What do you spend your money on?

I don't just spend it on pretty things. I have a definite goal in mind - I want to buy a house in Finland. Maybe in the future also real estate in Thailand, we'll see. I don't need a Rolex or any luxury, I don't care about that.

What has been the most difficult thing for you since Eurovision?

Everyone in Finland now knows who I am. It's hard and tiring because I no longer have my own private space at all. I can't just go to the store, to a concert, or to a hockey game, people will immediately come up to me and start taking pictures. I hate when they don't politely ask for permission to do this, but immediately start clicking.

What has been the best?

It's great to see people hear 'Cha Cha Cha' and be happy. Or when they hear the name Käärijä and their face breaks into laughter - it's a powerful feeling. And of course to see how happy my family is about this achievement. And me too!

#käärijä #jere pöyhönen #tommy cash #interview

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ladykailitha · 5 months

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Royal Pain Part 26

Hello, and we have got to the end of the massive arc that culminated the last four chapters.

I also wrote this part before 24 and 25 because I couldn't figure out how to write Eddie having a hard time on tour, but the aftermath flowed from my fingers.

Also as a reminder this story is finished, I'm just posting on a regular schedule. This story is the longest fanfic I've ever written. Topping out at 58165 it's definitely longer than 50K fic I wrote for NaNoWriMo last year (Sandman, never finished or published.)

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23 Pt 24 Pt 25

****

“You’ve been sitting on that sofa for an entire week,” Wayne growled. “Steve has called three times, your bandmates at least a dozen times each. Hell, boy Miranda has been calling concerned. So want to tell me what’s fucking got you so twisted?”

“I was given a choice out there on the road,” Eddie said, twisting his rings around his fingers. “Stay in Indy and play small time gigs for the rest of my adult life or go to LA and get an album and the chance at super stardom.”

Wayne sat down next him. “Sounds like a big decision to make.”

Eddie leapt to his feet. “That’s the problem. That’s what makes me so angry how fucking easy the choice is.”

Wayne cocked his head to the side. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate again, boy. Start talking.”

Eddie started pacing back and forth. “As much as I loved playing for so many people, I didn’t like that I could only connect with a handful of them and not even the good kind.” He rubbed his chin angrily. “I didn’t like how tired we all were. It was set up, sound check, play, break down and move on to the next fucking town. And that wasn’t including all the parties, interviews, and all that other shit.”

“That does sound exhausting, Ed.”

“I didn’t like how easy it was for them to tell me to drop Gareth as drummer just because he had trouble adjusting to the increased volume. The price of fame they said. Like it was so simple to throw away almost two decades of friendship for the sake of adoring crowds and hearing our music on the radio.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Wayne said softly. “They didn’t...”

“Oh they absolutely did,” Eddie raged. “I didn’t like how they thought that because me and Steve’s relationship was new that I would be able to find someone better. Someone who liked metal, someone who would be down for the ride.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t sound like good advice.”

Eddie grabbed his hair pulled at it frustration. “The last straw was when they offered to let their tattooist to finish my back tattoo, because while my artist was good, theirs was better.”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face Wayne. “I picked Steve to do my tattoo on my back because he was the only one I trusted to make it meaningful. To understand the symbolism of making something of yourself when everyone is rooting against you. I made the decision before I fell in love with him and now that we’re a couple– and for them to just dismiss him like that? It made me so angry.”

“So what’s the problem? What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”

Eddie took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I’m fucking furious because I always thought that when fame and fortune came knocking I would throw open that door and march right through it. But now? Given the choice? I’m slamming the door in its face and walking away.”

Hot tears ran down his face. “And I don’t know why.”

He dropped to his knees and began to sob.

Wayne stood up and put his arms around his nephew’s shoulders, gently pulling him to his chest.

“Did that band you were traveling with say that?” he whispered into Eddie’s curls. “Because if they did, I swear to god I will burn every record and CD you have of theirs. Don’t think I won’t. I’ll delete them off your phone too.”

Eddie chuckled weakly. “No, no. They were kind. It was everyone else we met. Agents, managers, roadies, groupies, the people around Metallica every day.”

Wayne nodded.

“I was just constantly bombarded with hateful messages and the constant running at one hundred percent...” he whimpered. “I don’t want to do it.”

“Have you told your band that?” Wayne asked.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t dare to. I was the one that was gung ho about the touring and everything. How do I tell them I don’t want to leave the comfort of Indianapolis and home?”

“Kinda like that,” Jeff said from the doorway. His arms were crossed and he was leaning against the frame. Peaking around him was Miranda with a concerned look on her face.

Eddie scrambled to his feet and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I’m sorry I’ve been a brat.”

Jeff took three giant steps forward and hugged him fiercely. “You’re not being a brat. You’re scared and trying to figure it all out on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? We’ve all been worried sick about you. But Steve especially. I’ll call all the boys down for a chat and you call Steve, okay?”

Eddie nodded.

He dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Baby?” he asked, unsure of the reaction he was going to get. He deserved to be yelled at. Cursed at. Broken up with. He’d hurt Steve the most with this little temper tantrum he’d been having.

“Eds?” Steve breathed. “Sunshine, are you okay? Wayne said you hadn’t been eating well or sleeping much. Say the word and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Eddie’s lip began to quiver and tears spilled out of his eyes. “I need you. More than anything.”

“I’m on my way,” Steve said fiercely.

Eddie looked over at Jeff.

“Tell Steve Brian will swing by and pick him up.”

Eddie nodded and relayed the message back to Steve.

“I’ll be at my apartment,” Steve said. “I’ll have Robin arrange my schedule, don’t you worry about thing, baby.”

“Mm’k.”

“I love you, Eds.”

Eddie closed his eyes and breathed in the warmth of that simple phrase. “Love you, too, pretty boy. Come quick.”

“I promise.”

Steve piled into Brian’s car. It was the newest, having bought it right before they got picked up by Metallica. He had finally saved up enough money to replace his beater.

Gareth and Gethin in the backseat. Gethin had come up to Indy to watch his twin’s apartment while he was gone and just ended up staying. He was currently looking for a job so that he could move in with Gareth full time.

At least that what they said on the trip down. The twins and Brian were intent on filling the air with talk and Steve let them. He let them fill him in on the tour and everything that had been going on since they’d left.

Steve couldn’t be for certain, but it sounded like that touring hadn’t been fun for anyone. Even after a week of rest, he could still make out the circles under their eyes and how hunched over they were with just sheer exhaustion.

A feeling Steve felt all too well.

Gethin was pressed against his twin’s side and was rubbing his neck soothingly.

Steve looked at Brian.

His face was set, hard and unflinching. He was going to make the drive to Hawkins as fast as he could and still avoid the cops.

Steve was grateful Brian was driving because he didn’t think he would have made the distinction to avoid breaking the law. He would have gunned it and flipped off any cop that tried to catch him.

After awhile, Steve was getting the oddest feeling that Brian was used to speeding down this stretch of highway because there were points where he would slow down for a few miles and then speed right back up.

Soon enough they were pulling up to Wayne’s trailer and piling out the car.

Eddie sat on the sofa with Jeff and Miranda on either side of him, just hugging him.

Wayne was busying himself in the kitchen, getting ready to feed the hoard that was about to descend on his home.

The door opened up and Brian, Gareth, and Gethin all stumbled through the entryway. Eddie was on his feet in an instant, Jeff and Miranda not far behind.

And then the trio at the door parted and there stood Steve. Looking just as tired and worn as Eddie felt.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked, taking a step toward him uncertainly.

Steve threw open his arms and Eddie ran straight into them. They wrapped their arms around each other and just sobbed.

“I’m here, Eds,” Steve murmured into Eddie’s neck. “I’m here. I love you so much.”

Eddie lifted his head and kissed him hard. “I love you, too. I regret leaving you behind, sweetheart. It nearly killed me. Every song I wrote was about you. About missing you. I don’t even want to leave you ever again, I can’t.”

The silence that followed that statement was deafening.

Steve led Eddie back over to couch and sat them both down. “Tell us everything, babe.”

And so Eddie did. He told them everything. Everything he had told Wayne, everything that had been weighing on his mind since they started touring. It all just came out in a flood.

They all listened patiently.

“Why didn’t you tell us you felt like that while we were on the road?” Gareth asked. “I knew what they were saying about me, but I also knew you guys wouldn’t drop me. If you had me about that I would have been able to reassure you that I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Eddie flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t know how to bring it up, it was so vile, man.”

Jeff gave his hand a squeeze. “Well, I think that you did a bang up job telling us now and that’s what really matters.”

“Someone offered to ship me out to LA and record an album,” Eddie finally admitted. “Not the band, just me. I told him that I wouldn’t go without you guys and he laughed in my face. Told me to cut the dead weight and be a star.” He dragged his hands over his face.

“But there were other offers. Good ones. Ones that included the band, well most of it, anyway. Always under the proviso that Gareth be replaced either on tour or all together. They didn’t want to make any accommodations for him even though there is a drummer with one god damn arm!”

“So the options are,” Brian said, “stay in Indy doing what we’ve been doing, only better because of the money we got for doing this tour. Go to LA without Gareth. Go to LA with Gareth but only as a studio musician and take some person we don’t know on tour with us. Does that sound about right?”

Just then Gareth’s phone went off. He looked at it with a frown. It wasn’t a number recognized so he let it go to voicemail. He pulled it up after the notification popped up.

He listened to message with wide eyes. “Hey guys, I think we have another option.” And he played the message so everyone could hear.

“Hey, Mr Hughes,” the tinny voice said through the speaker. “This is Murray Bauman, I’m music producer, we spoke in Las Vegas. I think I have the perfect deal for you boys. You were telling me that touring was really hard on you and that if there was an option you wouldn’t do that. I know you weren’t speaking for all your band, but I could tell that they would do anything for you, all four of you being such good friends.

“So the reason for this call is that I own a small music company in Bloomington and boy do I have a deal for you all. You would make a record through us, we would sell and distribute the record, keeping a portion of the sales, of course. But you wouldn’t have to tour. You have a steady gig as I understand it. If your fans want to see you play, they’ll know where to find you.

“But give me a call, we’ll hash out the details. My phone number is 555-555-2080...” and then message beeped, signaling the end of the voicemail.

Eddie looked down at the phone and then back up at Gareth. “Oh.”

Gareth grinned. “We don’t even have to take his offer, but I vote we listen to it. Brian can bring Cecil.”

Brian nodded. “He’s only got a semester left of law school, but I’ll have him brush up on his contract law to be on the safe side.”

Jeff raised his hand. “All in favor of hearing Mr Bauman out raise your hand?”

Eddie, Brian, and Gareth’s hands shot up.

“Sounds good,” Jeff said. “You call him back and set it up and if it doesn’t work out we can vote again.”

Brian shook his head. “Nah. I think if it doesn’t work, we stick to Nightmare Holes. We took a swing at it and if it’s a miss then we tried. I thought I wanted the touring and everything that came with stardom, but like Eddie I learned I wanted the romanticized version of it. I’ll be happy playing in front of our friends for the rest of our lives.”

The rest of the band nodded.

Soon everyone getting up to go back to Indy, but Steve stayed behind, he would go back up with Eddie in the morning. They had things to discuss that went deeper then the band.

****

Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

I told you I would fix it.

Also a little BTS, the reason in my head for why things went wrong on tour but immediately righted itself when Eddie and Steve met up again? Steve still has Eddie's lucky pick. ;)

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

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puuta-heinaa · 1 month

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Joker Out, Paris (Café de la danse) 22.3.2024

I arrived at the venue around 14ish, and was third to last in the EE queue. However queueing is part of the party! I exchanged sooo many bracelets and met amazing people, some of which I just met that day, some I knew from Discord or tumblr or earlier gigs, couldn't have been happier. Got selfies with Bojan and Jan?? Hug from Bojan??? HELLO. That would never happen in Finland. I described his hug as jämäkkä and turvallinen, which roughly translates to sturdy and safe.

Some of the bracelets I made for the concert!

Met someone in the queue who had hawk's eyes and who encouraged me to go and ask for a selfie with Jan, and later on she spotted Bojan on the street 100 m before everyone else did. I had a chance to give Bojan 3 2 ananaslonkero -bracelet that I'd made, with a tiny drink charm. If the main joke in fandoms is that a hug from your blorbo would cure you? well it's true. Getting a hug from Bojan removed some stiffness between my shoulder blades that I didn't even know was there. It was literally easier to breathe after the encounter. I also kept vigorously shaking for 3-5 minutes afterwards, so much that some people asked if I'm ok. Just released years worth of trauma ig. Also LOTS of happy hand stims throughout the day, my autism was showing lol.

Jan was outdoors SMOKING!!! And Bojan had charmingly dirty hair! He was taller than I had thought.

ANYways the gig !! I ended up on Jance side, which was nice as I was on Kris' side in Helsinki. Whole stage was about as wide as K-18 section at Kultsa, and I think they suit better on smaller stages.

We got Vem da Gres and Gola in soundcheck! I was wearing Vem da gres -bracelet that I got in Helsinki a few weeks ago and thought about that person for a few seconds!

Gola was ok. Bojan got disney mickey ears, and he was wearing my 3 2 ananaslonkero bracelet. Bojan also got a maca plushie that he was NOT scared of, he even made it fly.

Kris left the stage as soon as the last notes of Gola were over, other boys stayed jamming in accelerating speed for couple of more minutes. I showed them my UM sign that only read "I want to sing UMAZAN" at that point. :')

20h02 was ok, didn't connect with their music at all though. JC Stewart seemed a bit sick, but sounded good nevertheless. Finished my sign.

They started with Katrina and Bele Sanje, and people were singing even guitar riffs along. Dopamin hit like dopamine followed by Ne bi smel, Nace was staring at me several times during those songs.

Liinu's superb edit of staring sc Nace and struggling Kris and Arcti's edit about Jan's forgotten library books made my day

People were already singing along to Sta bih ja, and Bojan was sooo happy (and sweaty. We were all very sweaty, the concert hall was ridiculously warm.). Kris disappeared for a moment in the beginning of Sta bih ja, and Bojan looked like a lost puppy (wait, where is kris?? about 5-10 seconds into sta bih ja). Bojan said Kris didn't like how Jan played the riff and that's why he left the stage :P. Jan flipped a bird to him.

Decibels raised by about 20 when they played Ona and Demoni. Turns out they might be the easiest to sing along for absolutely everyone, not just for people who speak Finnish. Bojan looked me directly into eyes during second verse of Demoni for several seconds, and I felt so seen (in a good way). EE was definitely worth its price.

In Helsinki I felt like the setlist was over before it even started, but in Paris it felt more like we were really dancing and playing until the stars fade. I think it had something to do with how much they interacted with each other and with the public during each song. In Helsinki they seemed like they had forgotten how to be on stage, and there was just TOO MUCH SPACE, whereas Paris had Nordic Tour energy.

They all moved a LOT on stage!! Kris was on jance side several times! Nace had a mating dance thingy going on with Kris at least twice, Jan once. Jan interacted with the public on Kris's side a few times. Bojan almost run into Kris at one point - no wonder he caressed Kris's arm to let him know he's there before grapping his hips?? and dancing behind him??? during Behind those eyes. It's cafe de la danse after all.

Def thinking "THIS is how we'll trend on tumblr tonight" right after the famous dance

Everybody's waiting and soooooo many people raised hands when Bojan asked in his spiel before the song if anyone here suffers from panic or anxiety attacks, and I think it made everyone feel less alone. He sang I'm the problem it's me -line to make things a bit lighter before proceeding to the song.

We got Omamljeno Telo and I felt SOOOO HAPPY (but also sad for Moonu) but also SOOOO HAPPY it was on the setlist, I think I screamed VITTU JES on top of my lungs (manifesting it for Ruisrock huh). Famous water spray on Jan during OT, and it shows I've grown old, because instead of "yeeeess I want Bojan's spit on me" I went "rat disease, why am I not wearing a mask".

Everyone sang along during CD, not in French though even if there was a fanproject French translation published a whole 28 hours before(....). Plastika hit like a hammer once again, but I think I was already waiting and stressing for UM, so I didn't mosh for example. Which, good idea, because my neck was soooo sore after Helsinki.

Bojan announced the karaoke song, and asked which versions we have today. He saw my sign, asked "Slovenian version?", to which I "said" (from 4th row on Jan+Nace side) Finnish version, and he heard it and corrected himself and said perfect. I was not afraid at all even if I knew I'm probs going to sing in front of about 500 people in 5ish minutes???? How??? I'm usually a ball of anxiety but here I was just proud and excited to sing my version of it.

I loved the Bretogne/French version (I've still no idea what were the words, but it rhymed super well and she sang well, but that was def NOT paris region French), cringed at some of the "translations" because they did not fit the lines and did not rhyme, sang along to Slovenian versions in Finnish, felt bad for one of them as the karaoke singer started at the wrong moment and Bojan spent most of their special moment trying to orchestrate the band.

When Bojan approached with "I think we still have a Slovenian version, OH NO, A FINNISH VERSION" I chortled, and felt the last bits of nervousness disappear. (Cue "some boat, titanic, oh no".) I had my ACTUALLY finger pointing moment, which, on point with my personality, telling him it's a hybrid version. I don't know what he meant with SUOMI SAA, but it was NOT full-on Suomi SAATANA, that much is certain. I quite like the idea/interpretation he was making a pun with SAA(tan)Are you ready? But who knows. Sad about missed chance to answer "ArE YoU???" now that I think about it, but at least I wasn't the only one who failed the moment :') . Speaking of cursewords though, a histronic youngster next to me did shout vittu though! I loved my spot but she was super annoying throughout the evening.

The Finnish version is in the beginning of this one, and the Arabic version right after Finnish version is AMAZING. The French version is on the first part, as well as Bojan going "uuu Finnish version? perfect".

Started in Slovene, which made him have a Ok?? face, but when I switched to my own Finnish version that rhymes with the Slovene version, he raised his brows and seemed so impressed that I just nodded to him, sending telepath(et)ic messages that yes, our languages match and rhyme, about time you collaborate with Jere. I think he remembered I asked for a hug in the afternoon, because he did not hug everyone during karaoke. Afternoon hug was better btw.

I love his little surprised smile right when I finish the first Finnish line on this one

I usually think quite a lot about how other people perceive me, but now I didn't give a single fuck, just enjoyed being the main character for 20 seconds, having this interaction with my blorbo. Forever grateful for the 4 different angles I received from friends I made in the queue, and 1 from a random guy who asked me after the concert if I'd like to receive a video he took of me singing. Even Vita was filming the whole thing with her big light + camera + phone ensemble. I often sing in my car, and even IMAGINING i'm singing karaoke makes my voice suddenly tiny and weak and compressed, so I'm overflowingly glad it went this well, you have no idea even if I've just bragged about it for 4 paragraphs.

I later realised I was the only one who didn't hold the mic themself, this is a clear example how I objectify the boys, seeing Bojan just as a mic stand.🫣😵‍💫

I got fluent Kiitos from Bojan, that guy needs to move to Finland he speaks Finnish so well. Also LMAO I forgot to sniff him in the afternoon, now I'm praying the snifff I took after karaoke wasn't too evident and doesn't show on Vita's video……….. Jere is wrong, Bojan does not smell like shit, but there were no parfume smell either? He just smells like nothing in a pleasant, pheromone rich way lol.

my translation: Sanje so tvojega okusa Aamuihin taas tuoksusi Neula ei haarukassa Sieluni on hukassa Etsimässä tietään luoksesi

I haven't figured how to translate the first line. I've been playing with "Makus' on tarrannut uniini", but it does not rhyme with the og well enough. Otherwise super proud of my version. Neula and haarukka are parts of compass, basically saying the compass is layed on the map the wrong way. 🧭

This is how small the place was??? I was in 3/4th row, and the hat guy in the right corner was right behind me during the concert so the club truly was tiny.

Apparently bubbles were not allowed on stage in Cafe de la danse? But some people had brought their own so we had bubbles anyway.

Jure exchanged his drumstick to a breadstick. I laughed because a) it was a clever pun and b) such a stereotypically French thing to bring a BAGUETTE wrapped in a napkin to a concert. Also no wonder boys are always sick, I don't even want to know how many people touched that bread before it was on stage.

Life is pain (in mouths)

We waited for the boys after the concert outside the venue in the rain, and they walked past quite quickly. Bojan stayed for 30 seconds to take a group selfie. <3

Honestly so happy I traveled there and met amazing people and surpassed myself on so many levels.

I feel like 2004 again, because that's when I last made a post this long on livejournal and also when I last was this hyped about a group.

I loved band's AMAZING OUTFITS in Café de la danse, everyone had some idrija lace on them, and I'm afraid my next special interest will be bobbin lace.

#joker out #cafe de la danse #my concerts #sys tour #umazane misli #bojan cvjetićanin #kris guštin #nace jordan #jan peteh #jure maček #metrijormaus

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blackopals-world · 1 year

Text

Boudoir

Model!FemYuu x Vil Schoenheit

It was for publicity. A raunchy shoot for the new romantic drama Vil would be starring in. It was Vil's idea to do a Boudoir shoot, so he can't complain about the results but he will complain about the bold photographer.

He asked for this. He wanted this. But some how this was far too invasive.

Vil visited her one evening after work. They had been friends for years but they were still "just friends". He often wondered how she put up with his nagging and dramatics but she would remind him every time why she stayed.

"You're not a burden." she'd say her hands rubbing his cheeks in that soothing way she always did.

Their relationship was unique. Neither desired partners nor temporary lovers. They had each other and then they had other friendships. But the desire was there.

Vil browsed some old albums Yuu had made. She often made scrapbooks of photos and other things she gathered. One page had pictures from the autumn festival they went to. They were sitting on a bench under a golden oak tree, tucked in close to one another with cups of warm apple cider in hand. They looked so good together. She had tapped one of the leaves and a festival ticket to the page.

Vil placed the book back onto the shelf before going back to browsing for another. Her modeling portfolios were numerous, they weren't anything he hadn't seen her wear in person. If he said he was beautiful it wasn't something didn't say often. He browsed them when she was busy like she was now. She was currently in the kitchen cooking and like always Vil was shooed out of the way. She hated him nitpicking the food.

One of the books stood out. It was much smaller and unmarked. He pulled it out to find a collection of black and white photos. Each of them were images of Yuu dressed in lingerie if she wasn't being covered in a thin sheet on her bare body. The high contrast brought out every curve of her body and the smoothness of her skin.

"Oh, you found my old boudoir album!" Yuu chirped, her head peaking out from the kitchen before disappearing.

Vil reflexively slammed the book close in embarrassment. His cheeks reddened feeling like he was caught red handed.

"Yeah, it was an accident. It's pretty good work though."Vil coughed as he tried to play it off.

Yuu hummed in agreement.

"Whispers Of The Night" had wrapped up filming a month ago and it was time to get ready for the press tour.

It was a steamy romantic drama with Vil as the main love interest. It was a difficult role with his co-star being difficult behind the scenes. The media manager wanted them to do another shoot to promote the movie but this time done in fewer clothes. His co-star, bless her, wasn't going for it. She had an image and part of that wasn't getting naked. It was perfectly fair to Vil if she didn't want to but the company wanted a shoot. His manager suggested that since Vil character was a Cassanova, they could just find another model as a stand in.

Vil immediately jumped to choosing his long-time friend and fellow model Yuu who agreed with little fan fair. Yuu requested a private shoot with only a photographer and Vil.

"I can't just have a whole studio staring at my chest while you bury your face in between." She said half joking.

"W-will that be happening or..." Vil mumbled as his imagination took over. Her breasts were larger than average and must have been very soft.

"Hmm, probably. Do you have any problems with that?" She asked nervously.

"No, not at all. I've never been a part of these shoots. I'll need an experienced partner to show me." Vil smirked as he watched Yuu turn red.

"Hardly more experienced than you. I still remember that underwear ad you did for Calvin Klein." Yuu teased watching Vils violet eyes dilate slightly. " No one shut up about it for months. All you had to do was take your shirt off and stock prices jumped to the ceiling."

Vil held his hands up in mock surrender, they could go back and forth forever about what they've done for the industry and what embarrassing things they've done.

"Okay my dove, arch your back more" Philip the photographer called over the lens as he focused the camera on her lace-wrapped chest

They were posed on a soft velvet-covered bed, her legs wrapped around Vil's waist, his hands on her bare hips, and his mouth pulling on the thin lace on her breast to reveal more of her ample cleavage.

Philip was too close for Vil's taste. He jumped at the chance to be that solo photographer and called Yuu his inspiration. Vil just didn't know inspiration was code for obsession. Rook at least respected distance but this guy was too personable.

"Focus on your client. A little less on her." Vil said stiffly as he shifted his hands up Yuu's back as she arched it upwards.

"Sorry! Sorry! I need her in the center frame." Philip said pitting the camera down and letting it hang around his neck.

"Don't worry Philip, he's just agitated. He wants attention." Yuu chimed rubbing her thumb across Vil's cheek as she caressed it.

Vil wrinkled his nose before remembering that this was just business.

"Yes. Yes. Okay now Mr.Schoenheit, please lean down and give my dear a kiss on her cute soft belly." Philip smiled gleefully as he held up the camera again.

Vil wanted to kill him. He was no stranger to people commenting on her body. He scrolled through enough of her social media feeds to see it but hearing this guy say it in front of him made him angry.

The blonde sighed but relented and unwrapped Yuu's legs. He pressed his lips to her stomach. Yuu squirmed slightly giggling as Vil repeated the action. His hand came up to her chest to press her to stop from moving.

"Excellent! Excellent! Such chemistry! My beautiful dove, you look ravishing like this. Now Mr.Schoenheit please hook you're fingers onto her underwear and remove them." Philip aimed the camera squarely on her lower body.

The couple stilled. This was not a nude shoot. A bit scanty but not naked. Neither moved.

"Here, like this." Philip said reaching out and hooked a finger into Yuu's panties.

Yuu jumped and pulled away but not before Vil grapped the photographer's wrist.

"No, you're done. You don't touch her and this isn't part of our contract." Vil said firmly and placed himself between Yuu and the photographer.

Yuu was embarrassed but agreed with Vil. The shoot was canceled and the photos were scrapped. Philip was disavowed for his lack of etiquette. It eventually came out that he wanted to take and sell photos of Vil and Yuu naked to the public. He wanted to model them like adult video stars.

Yuu apologized over and over because she had worked with him in the past and trusted him not to do something like this.

Vil accepted as long as Yuu let him vet the people she works with. He was too concerned with her safety.

In truth, he didn't blame Philip. Well, actually he did for everything except for his comments on Yuu's body. Those were true.

Their second shoot went much better but all the lingering glances and gentle touches became more heated once everyone went home.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil #vil shoenheit x reader #vil twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland vil #twst

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