#Kendall and his big jacket

[beebeetheclown]

The only thing I like about the cold during winter is that I get to pull out my huge winter jacket that goes down to my knees so I feel like this silly little man when I walk around lol

[ferrstappen]

primero llegó verstappen l MV1

a/n: MONACO by Bad Bunny. that's it that's the tweet. this isn't very long and its all over the place but I hope you like it <3

summary: Suddenly, Max isn't annoyed about being featured in a music video.

Max couldn't stop staring at himself in the mirror of a tent full of outfits, cameras and people moving from one place to another. In his mind he already did enough promo for the team, more than enough after being crowned World Champion for the third time and a huge contributor to the comfortable win of the Constructors Championship as well.

Maybe appearing in a music video was where he draw the line?

He wouldn't have an issue if it was him on his fireproofs doing a couple of laps in some closed circuits, maybe even some hot laps, but having to pose next to his RB19, wearing a faux leather jacket and showing one of his TAG Heuer Monaco Titan, because he was a walking billboard, was a little too much on his books, especially as a make up artist mixed different shades of some foundation, and Max was trying really hard not to take offense after he told him "his dark circles were incredibly hard to conceal".

Here he was doing favors and in return was being offended by his lack of sleep and naturally pale complexion.

He almost laughed after noticing Checo staring at himself in the mirror, the same confused and uncomfortable look on his face, and the same tight jacket as they contemplated the marina from above.

In conclusion, yes, this was well above his paycheck. Max also wouldn't deny he didn't thrill on the presence of paparazzi in quiet Monaco. granted, they were looking for the big star who was doing some shots around the city, walking hand in hand with his model girlfriend, but he could still make out some yelling for him and Checo.

Then, his day took a turn.

Some crew members wearing headphones and what he assumed were the assistants approached him and Checo, telling them this wouldn't take long since all they had to do was walk around the car, get in and out of the car, with and without the helmet, all while blasting the song.

A very catchy and good song that mentioned he was the first one to cross the finish line. At least he couldn't complain about that.

But he was internally complaining when, once again, he found himself on the make up chair with the same make up artist who had a problem with his dark circles, but this time the place was much different.

A sharp suit and this time a heavy Patek Philippe on his wrist as he walked inside the Casino of Monte Carlo. Now he was greeted by Bad Bunny himself, who thanked him many many times for being a part of this, and in return Max thanked him for even thinking of him for his song. They fell into a comfortable conversations about cars when the singer motioned for two girls to come over, one Max recognized as Kendall Jenner, the other he didn't know but was eager to.

"Max, this is mi novia, Kendall, and this is her friend (y/n). They're doing some stuff on the background, don't they look incredible?"

Max swore the designer dress you were wearing was painted on you, because there was no way it could fit so perfectly on your body, with a couple of stray hairs adorning your face and long eyelashes accentuating your eyes.

"It's so nice to meet you, I'm such a big fan of motorsport," you stretched your hand and it caught Max off guard, not really knowing what to do.

So he panicked and gave you a weird handshake before lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a kiss, and he had never felt more like a creep, but he noticed you blushing and a giggle leaving your lips.

You wanted to add something when the crew called everyone to start shooting, Benito and Kendall leading the way, and the only thing Max thought of doing was to offer you his arm which you gladly accepted.

The song was blasting as everyone pretended to talk and surround the roulette, but you and Max weren't pretending to laugh or to talk.

He even left Checo by himself, he'd forgive him eventually.

"I'm pretty sure the camera is on us in this moment," you told him through gritted teeth, trying to keep a perfect smile.

"What should we do?" Max asked, trying to hide his smile while doing his best to give you his best seductive stare.

You knew he was flirting with you and it was surprising. After seeing him on screens and social media you figured he'd be cocky, not having any trouble flirting with women every weekend on different countries, figuring out a way with foreign languages, but you never pictured him as a giddy, easily flushed, good for banter man, and the only thing you wanted was to leave this shoot and have him show you the city, dressed to the nines and maybe pretending to be cold in the end so he could put his jacket over your shoulders, and that way you could see him with just a white shirt and undone tie.

But you were getting a bit ahead of yourself, especially when you heard the director yell cut and tell you and Max to pay attention to the instructions, earning you the glare of everyone in the room.

"Ey, cabr��n, que se están enamorando, déjalos solos!" Hey, they're falling in love, leave them alone. Those were Benito's words.

And God, was he right.

[secondhand-snow]

a body of impulses

lukas matsson x f!roy!reader (succession)

★chapter 2★

wc: 7.5k+

warnings: toxic family dynamics, drinking, very mild violence, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink (if you squint), oral sex (f! recieving), fingering (f!recieving), handjobs, cum eating, spit, clothed sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), biting, so much making out, praise, size difference, no use of y/n

summary: The youngest Roy meets Lukas Matsson at her brother's birthday party. Limerence strikes like lightening. Self-control snaps. Attachment blooms.

author's note: I'm considering making this a short series? Let me know what you think! please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

It made you feel strangely childish, running through the darkened rooms of the event space, carefully stepping with bent knees to reduce your risk of falling from the extra few inches your heels provided you. Looking over your shoulder at the dwindling silhouettes of your siblings, you checked to be sure they didn’t think your disappearance was too suspicious. Of course, they were too transfixed with themselves. They were staring at the large, falsified, magazine covers of themselves hung on the walls of the open space. 

Connor was still making a fuss, comforted by Willa.  You noticed a few attendants coming over to begin the process of removing his personalized poster from public view. Meanwhile, Shiv and Roman had their heads together, no doubt constructing some plan to turn Kendall’s birthday into a business opportunity. You rolled your eyes lightly, turning back around to peer through the small crowd at your older brother’s bomber jacket.

“Ken… Hey Kendall! Wait up!” You called out to him, your voice only a little louder than your normal speaking tone to carry over the techno music. He heard you, apparently, turning to lock eyes with you. You trotted up to him, grateful that the room you were in was mostly empty of partygoers. The walls were big screens flashing with fire, the orange light lighting up Kendall's face as he looked at you. Flames flickered in the pupils of his eyes and you almost laughed at the ironic symbolism of the moment.

“So, I know Rome gave you something earlier, I don’t know what, but uh,  I got you a card too.” You opened your small clutch and pulled out a white envelope, Kendall’s name written on it in your neat cursive handwriting. 

“You did?” His eyebrows raised, accentuating the few rows of wrinkles in his forehead. Taking the envelope from your hand, he turned it around in his fingers, almost like he couldn’t believe it was real. You bit your lower lip and nodded, hands moving to clasp behind your back.

“Yeah, I um… didn’t want to give it to you around them,” you nodded your head in the general direction of the rest of your siblings. “I know things have been, like, weird… lately. But, It’s your birthday and I love you and so I got you something.” Smiling on the last word, your tone raised the slightest bit. Kendall’s brows were still furrowed, but he nodded and ripped the envelope open to produce the card.

It was a cliche store bought birthday card, the front of it adorned in a goofy catchphrase and the picture of a dachshund. You saw his lips twitch the slightest bit as he read the front, a full smile forming as he opened the card. The stereotypical joke’s punchline was delivered and sandwiched inside the folded paper was an old photo of the two of you as children. He picked it up between his thumb and pointer finger, turning it over to find the date it was taken and both of your names written on the back. 

A small laugh escaped his mouth, his pointed grin blooming over his face as he turned the photo to face you. Pictured were the two of you, outside at the Hamptons house on a sunny day. You were young, maybe a few years old and Kendall was an older teenager. The younger version of yourself sat on his shoulders, your hands coming down to cradle his face while his hands held onto your ankles. Your tongue was sticking out at the photographer, he had noticed your face and was in the midst of an open-mouthed laugh when the photo was captured. 

It was a nod to your younger years, when Kendall filled more of a fatherly role than a brotherly one. You had written on the inside of the card, the message reading: “Happy birthday Ken. I love you always, no matter what,” with a heart and your signature ending the note. 

“What do you think?” 

“Are you kidding, I love it. God, I- I haven’t seen that picture in years.” He tucked the photo back away and held the card in one hand while he embraced you. 

“Right?! I found it the other day when I was looking through some old diaries. That was such a good summer.” You beamed at him as you spoke. He hadn’t been this happy around you in weeks, maybe even months. 

“It was. At least, by our standards.” Kendall chuckled a bit with the memory. “This is- it’s just great. Thank you.” You pulled him into another hug, he tucked his nose into your hair and planted a soft kiss on your head.

“I’m glad you like it. I really love you Ken, don’t forget that.” You looked into his eyes as you said it, a sad smile on your face at the intensity behind your words. He just nodded, squeezing you tight one last time before releasing your frame.

“Here, come on. I’m gonna show you something.” He took your hand then, leading you through the throng of people enjoying his birthday party, nobody sparing him a second glance as he walked by.

That was how you ended up with a rainbow bracelet around your wrist and a too-strong drink in your hand, standing behind the rope blocking off Kendall’s private treehouse from the rest of the party. Your clutch fell around your wrist loosely, your fingers prodding at the straw in your cocktail as your siblings bickered in front of you. 

“You’re getting worked up about a treehouse? Do you know how ridiculous that is?” Kendall shut the rope divider in front of Roman, turning his attention to a newcomer entering the space. “Hey, come in. Wristband him.” He nodded to the security guards.

“Yeah, wristband this guy. Uh, what’s his name?” 

“No idea.” 

“Good, so good. So random, unknown man and our baby sister can come in, but not us?” Roman talked with his arms, navy blue suit jacket riding up to show the skin of his wrists.     Shiv crossed hers as he spoke, rippling the green fabric at the front of her chest, eyes staring daggers into you.

“Yeah so the thing is, and- I already said this, she’s cool. You’re not.” Kendall gestured to you and you gave a weak smile to your excluded siblings.

“Fucking bullshit.” Roman ran a hand through his hair.

“See these two? Don’t let these two in okay. She’s good, they’re not.” Kendall pointed to the three of you as he talked to the guard, a tall blonde man in a black tshirt. “This is my treehouse. You shouldn’t be anywhere near here.” 

Shiv and Rome were in disbelief, still trying to reason with your eldest brother as he turned away from them and towards you. He put an arm on your back, guiding you to walk away from the scene and into the exclusive treehouse. You couldn’t help turning to look over your shoulder, glancing at your two neglected siblings with wide eyes. Roman had begun walking away, but Siobhan was still standing there, arms folded. As she caught your gaze, she rolled her eyes and shook her head in shock before finally moving to follow her brother deeper into the party, beginning to speak to him as she walked.

Kendall cursed under his breath as he led you into his treehouse. It was honestly eerie to see the structure again. You had too much of an age gap with Kendall to have played with him in it as a child, but on more than one occasion you had wandered up into it on your own, looking for a place to escape the aggressive family dynamic that arose wherever your siblings were in close proximity. There was even a time when you were a young teenager you had accidently busted Kendall for smoking weed in the treehouse during a family get together. He ended up paying you handsomely to keep quiet, which you did, never uttering a word about it to this day. You were nothing if not loyal.

The inside of this reconstructed treehouse was much different than the structure of your childhood. For one, it was massive. The treehouse you remembered could barely fit all four of you kids in it, definitely not the few dozen that stood milling about in the new space. The interior was dark. Black walls, wooden dividers and glass windows made up most of the area, with some modern light fixtures and lanterns set around to provide a warm glow. The outermost walls were made to look like the outdoors, a forest of sorts with shadows and cool tones to outline the trees. A wooden fence sat in front of the forest walls, making the entire space feel strangely like an outdoor balcony or patio. The music was lighter in this area, though still a techno party beat playing just loud enough that conversations were had in louder tones than normal. There were more earthy toned chairs, couches and tall tables filling the space than other areas in the event, and more partygoers milling about and chatting rather than dancing. 

“Oh here, come on.” Kendal had been talking, mostly to himself for a few seconds, just rambling about your shitty siblings. You tuned back into his words as he spoke in your ear and turned you in a specific direction with the hand on your lower back. Your eyes searched around the room, not recognizing what was drawing Kendall until he spoke again.

“There he is, Lukas Mattson. The Odin’ of codin’.” Finally you noticed the blonde man sitting just a few feet in front of you. His tall frame was dwarfed by the way he sat on the bench, lanky with one leg hitched up and a beer in his hand, but as he sat up you immediately recognized his face. “My man, my myth, my fucking monolith. What’s up bro? You havin’ a good time?”

“Do I look like I’m having a good time?” Lukas’s gaze darted from Kendall to yourself, your eye contact lingering for just a second long enough to provoke you to turn your stare to the ground in reservation.

“No, you do not.”

“I am not.” 

“Still haven’t figured out the socials, huh? Dude, you should get your algo guy to fix your code.” Your eyes lifted at that, and you smiled at the tone of your brother’s voice. Your hands came to raise the glass you had held at your side to your mouth. You drank through the thin black straw, the artificially colored liquid stinging your throat a bit as you swallowed heavily. Mattson didn’t respond to that, cocking his head at Kendall’s comment, pointedly looking at you, and shifting back to stare at him again.

“Oh uh yeah, this is my sister,” Kendall introduced you with your name, and you gave a small smile to Lukas in greeting. “Listen, heads up, my siblings are looking for you now.”

“And you led one of them straight to me?” He didn’t acknowledge your greeting, but his gaze continued to linger on you, a new softness behind his eyes.

“Yeah, well, she’s cool. She won’t try to get to sell your soul like the other two. Shiv and Roman, they’re like emissaries from the Grand Duke of Old. Dad wants to buy you, so he sent his winged dildos to schmooze.” 

“I shouldn’t say anything, even the look on my face is commercially sensitive.”

“But it makes, like, no sense, correct? Amtrak buys Tesla? If anything, you should buy him.” Your eyebrows furrowed the smallest bit at Kendall’s suggestion, turned your head to look up at him. He was too engrossed in his conversation to notice your confusion, but the way Mattson cocked an eyebrow showed that he did.

“You think?” You turned your attention back to Lukas, taking another sip of your drink. “Well, I really appreciate your impartial read.” He leaned his head towards Kendall, speaking lowly, like his words were a secret.

“ Kendall? Uh, Rava wants to say hi.” Comfrey had appeared behind you, moving quickly and quietly in a way you’d come to appreciate. You didn’t even notice her presence until she spoke, fidgeting with the phone in her hand.

“Sure, uh not right now. When I’m ready.” Kendall dismissed her and Comfrey slinked back into the shadows of the party, waiting for him to finish his conversation. “Listen, you should stay up here, okay? So you don’t get networked to fuck. Uh, here,” He spoke your name, addressing you for the first time since he’d begun talking to Lukas, “Keep the cronies away from him. And the sibs.”

“Um… okay.” It felt like more of a command than a request, but you agreed despite your annoyance.

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy, man.” With a wave, Kendall left, following Comfrey into a new area of the night’s festivities.

You stood for a moment, awkward and self conscious, twirling your drink’s straw between your thumb and index finger. Biting your lower lip, you made eye contact with Mattson, realizing he had been staring at you this whole time.

“Hi, sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before.” You finally spoke, offering a small smile to the man in front of you. 

“No, we haven’t. I know you though. The youngest Roy? The virtuous daughter?” He motioned as he joked with you, the beer in his hand sloshing around in its brown glass bottle.

“I don’t know about that.” You laughed, moving to sit by him on the wooden bench he occupied. “You can’t believe everything you see in the media, I thought you would know that better than anyone.” 

“Maybe. Your lack of involvement with your family’s scandals speaks for itself, though. You’re a saint compared to your father and brothers.” His Swedish accent peeked through his words, making his sentences flow together like music.

“Well, I’ve had less time to fuck things up. I joined the company much later than them, I only finished college a few years ago.” Shrugging while you spoke, you tried your best to dismiss his implications. Your momentary status as a neutral bridge between your feuding family was something you couldn’t bear to lose.

Mattson hummed before answering, nodding his head slowly as he looked you up and down. “And you aren’t going to use this time to try and convince me to sell?” 

You shook your head, a shy smile coming to your face. “Honestly? I don’t really want to. I think you’ve already decided what you want to do, and no amount of my bargaining will change that.”

“You’re smart.”

“I try.”

Lukas grinned at you, “Do you always do what your brother tells you to?”

“No, I just want to make him happy.” You shook your head slightly, feeling a little embarrassed at your obvious obedience to your family. It’s not like you don’t think for yourself, it’s just that sometimes complying is easier than the alternative. “You’re not enjoying the party?”

“No. Are you?”

“Not really. Crowds aren’t my favorite thing. And these drinks are way too strong.” You set down your drink on the floor near the bench, the liquor was beginning to give you a headache.

“But you came to support Kendall?” You nodded. He raised his eyebrows. “And you still say you aren’t obedient to him?”

“I…” You bit your lip lightly, not sure of how much information you should really reveal to this man. He was an adversary, but something about Lukas made you want to be honest with him. Maybe it was his eyes, or his casual posture, but you felt like leaning into his warmth, however strange it may be. “Well, you did call me virtuous. Maybe I just need to rebel a little, give into impulses for once.”

It was a joke, you both knew it, but the smirk on Mattson’s face felt a bit serious. “That’s an idea.” 

You smiled at him, a little blush coming to your cheeks at the suggestion in his sentence. He had moved a bit closer to you through your conversation, and now his knee brushed gently against your. His hand comes down to innocently brush out a wrinkle in the skirt of your dress, resting gently on your thigh for a moment too long before moving away.

“Hey! There you are, fucking hiding from me. Like a human VPN.” The sound of Roman’s voice snapped the two of you from the silence of the shared moment. You quickly adjusted your posture so your leg was crossed away from Lukas, adding a bit of distance between your bodies. “I see someone already found you. How are you doing?”

“I’m all right, just enjoying the company. It’s just, uh, you can fill in the blanks.” You subtly glared at your brother as Mattson spoke, immediately aware of his attempt to cut you from the conversation.

“How’d you get up here Rome? I thought Kendall had you banned from the premises.” Roman perched on a chair across from the pair of you, rolling up his sleeves as he sat.

“I paid a girl to give the security a blowjob, what do you think?” Sarcasm was thick in his voice as he spoke to you. “Hey Mattson, uh, question. My old man- our old man,” He made a motion between you and himself, “got a bit grumpy this morning, but you weren’t trying to humiliate him, right? I mean, fucking everyone says, last big legacy content library, last big fucking super app streaming platform. We obviously fit right?” 

“People say we fit.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Roman runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick you’ve come to know. You can tell he's worried at the frankness of Lukas’s responses.

 “Stargo is really, really shitty, though. Your genius would really help us out, if you end up selling to Waystar” You raised your eyebrows as you addressed Lukas. The anxiety radiating off of Roman made you want to pitch in, help him, although you still thought your haggling wouldn’t affect Mattson’s final decision.

 “I do have one question before we start these.. negotiations. Like, I don’t wanna be rude but.. What kind of shape is your father in? How long will he be around, we’re talking one year… five years..?”  Roman is shocked quiet at Mattson’s forwardness, his hands running down the sides of his face as he tried to formulate a response that won’t fuck the deal he’s working to build.

“Well, you mean, you just don’t want him hanging over you, right? Looking over your shoulder all the time, especially while you work” You ask in his stead. Lukas nods. “Well what if you don’t have to talk to him? Like, ever?” Looking over to Roman, you try to throw him a lead to jump back into the conversation.

“Yeah, you work out of, uh, Austin, London, Stockholm, Geneva, whatever. It’s just totally separate companies and we burn Stargo.” Rome catches up, making a contribution to your schmoozing. “And on the occasion that you need to send up a fսcking smoke signal from Geneva, then that goes through me.”

“We can do that together.”

“So, I know GoJo is your baby, and we don’t want to interfere with that at all. So, bearing that in mind, would you consider meeting with my dad?” Roman clasps his palms together and points them towards Lukas.

“Yeah, well, if all this is true, then... yeah.”

“How's Monday?” 

“Monday is great.”

“And if I were to shake your hand right now, could I go tell my dad that I basically just bought GoJo for him?” 

“No.” Lukas chuckles, pauses to take a sip from his beer. “But you can tell him I'm in the conversation.”

“I’ll fucking take it.” Roman smiles and takes a deep breath before standing from his seat. “I will see you then, I have a call to make” He pulls his phone out as he walks away, already starting to dial in the numbers.

You take a moment to be silent, watching his frame fade into the crowd until you turn to Lukas. He’s looking at you too, head tilted and grin plastered across his face.

“I thought Kendall told you not to let him speak to me.”

“I thought I told you, I’m trying to be more rebellious.” You smile back at him, switching the way you cross your legs to let your bare knee touch the fabric of his pants. 

You stay that way, speaking to Mattson and letting him subtly touch your arm, back, leg, for the better part of an hour. It hadn’t been your plan to stay so long, just make a quick appearance for Kendall’s sake and head home before midnight, but you found yourself not wanting to end your dialog with Lukas, causing you to push back your exit further and further. He grabs you a new drink from one of the servers walking through the party, a cocktail that luckily tastes much better than your previous refreshment. Well, maybe not so luckily, since you end up drinking enough to get yourself buzzed and bolder than normal. 

You’re self aware enough to draw back when you notice your siblings entering the room again, Roman giving a small wave before heading to a different seating area. You don’t pay him much mind until Shiv enters the area as well, hair frizzy and makeup smudged. She seems pissed, he seems drunk, it all looks like a recipe for failure. Roman perches on a chair, glass of wine in his hand, Shiv turns to leave but gets drawn by some comment he makes.

“I’m sorry- maybe I should…” You look back at Mattson, your conversation had lulled for a few seconds as your attention had turned to your siblings.

“Have to go babysit?” He smiles at you, a bit condescending, but not enough to make you upset. You don’t respond for a second, biting your lip and looking between your current company and the scene between your family. 

“I just…” The words come at as a sigh, your head lulling back in exhaustion as you notice Kendall and Naomi breaking through the crowd to engage in Shiv and Roman’s antics. “Things always get out of hand when I’m not there to mediate. But I’m so fucking tired of having to be the good one all the time” 

“You don’t have to be, just take a step back, watch shit unfold. Rebel, remember?” Mattson’s blue eyes are dark in the lighting and his eyebrows are raised, daring you. You smile, nod, take a sip of your drink. “It’s actually good entertainment when you aren’t involved.” 

Deciding to take a break from your role as peacemaker, you turn to face your siblings in your seat, the same direction Lukas is sitting. You feel his bent knee brush against your back and lean into a bit, something not visible from your sibling’s position. You allow yourself to stay that way until you notice Roman moving to get up. That sparks you to rise, set your drink down, murmur an apology to Lukas, and quickly run over to the circle of your siblings.

“You know you want to, just fucking hit me, do it. ‘I’m not a real person’ fuck you.” Rome’s words are charged, he’s too close to Kendall for your comfort and you see his next action coming a mile away, without any way to stop it. “All right, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Happy birthday fuckface.” 

Two hands hand on Kendall’s back as he turns to walk away, a push from them sending him falling onto his face in the middle of the party. You know Roman didn’t mean to push him so hard, he wasn’t thinking clearly, but the result was the same regardless of his intent.

“What the fuck Rome? Why would you do that?” You move to help Kendall up with Naomi, turning your head to yell at your other brother, who was laughing at his actions.

“Everybody just take it easy, okay?” You didn’t even notice Connor’s presence until he spoke.

“Oh shit, are you okay? Happy birthday.” Roman laughed through his words. Kendall pushed you away from him in embarrassment when he stood, Naomi giving you a look telling you that she had it covered.

“Take your coat off. Take your fucking coat off.” He didn’t look back at Roman, didn’t address his comments, just spat anger at Connor as he was ushered away. Just a few hours ago he was fine, you didn’t know what could’ve caused him to crash so hard since you’d last seen him.

“Like a fucking eight year old. You're an asshole.” Shiv speaks briefly before marching away, Roman still giggling at his own antics.

“It’s funny. It’s funny! You’re gonna laugh at it later.”

You moved to face your brother, pushing his shoulder back against the chair he had moved to sit in. “Clean your fucking act up. You do one thing right and think you can get away with anything. I love you, but don’t be so fucking stupid, Roman.” Your words seem to break through, he stops laughing for a minute to shoot you a dirty look. Not waiting to see his response, you turn and quickly walk towards the nearest exit of the area, pulling your phone out of your clutch to message your driver.

“Leaving?” Lukas’s voice next to you startles you, and you shoot him a weak smile.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I need to get out of here. I just can’t be near them right now.” He walks with you, humming in understanding as you speak.

“Why don’t you leave with me? Get your mind off them.” You stop walking then, now only a few yards from the exit of the venue. Crossing your arms, you lightly rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

“If someone found out…”

“Think for yourself. Be impulsive for once.”

His words give you pause. Normally you would deny him, deny the aching between your thighs that his presence gave you. You’d head home and masturbate until you passed out, report to your Dad in the morning, never speak to the man again. But you were so, so tired of being good.

“Okay. Let’s do it. My driver’s here, we can pull around and pick you up in a few minutes.” Thinking quickly, you come up with a simple plan to stop the public from seeing you leave together. He nods, smiles, and reaches for your phone. You let him take it, let him put his number in and hand it back to you, fingers lingering on yours.

“Text me when you’re here.”

The ride to Lukas’s hotel room is intense. You have enough discretion to raise the divider between the front and back seats of the car, blocking the view of yourself from your driver. But once that black panel separated you, Mattson was merciless. He wasted no time in pulling you into his lap, kissing you roughly and palming your chest with his large hands. You barely came up for breath the entire ride to his hotel, and when you did your neck was immediately attacked. He marked your skin with hickeys and bites, leaving you gasping for air. Trying your best to quiet your moans and whimpers, you covered your mouth with your hand whenever you could, but you doubted your driver couldn’t hear the noises Lukas pulled from you. You tipped them an extra thousand dollars just in case.

He gave you a break while you hurried through the hotel, standing close to you but not touching you, even in the elevator. It gave you plausible deniability. Though if your reflection was any judge, the already darkening marks on your neck spoke for themselves. Mattson is so stoic in public it has you questioning if he even wants this. If he wants you the way that he did in the car. But, as he holds the door open for you to enter his hotel suite, your question is answered.

The hotel suite is modern, with several separate rooms adorned in black, white, and gray decorations. The farthest wall of the living room, the space you’ve walked into, consists of glass windows which offer a gorgeous view of the city’s nighttime lights. You take a moment to look around, throwing your clutch over to an entryway table and walking towards the windows. Your reflection is just barely visible in the glass, your silhouette a sliver of light against the darkness of the New York skyline. Your head tilts to the side a bit, and you reach a hand forward to press against the glass. Maybe it’s the alcohol in your bloodstream, or the lust making your heart beat faster than normal, but you don’t even notice Lukas approach until his reflection joins yours in the window. You look up and slightly behind you, catching his eyes with yours. His pupils are wide and dark, his lids heavy and narrowed with intent. 

He places a hand on your chin, tilting you up as he bends down to reach your lips. It starts soft, lips barely parted and eyes closed. Your body follows the tilt of your head, moving to face him and place your hands around his neck. His hands travel to your butt, using his leverage to press you against him. His tongue slips inside your mouth, his movements speed up. Hands begin to grope at your ass, squeezing and pawing you through your gown. It’s rough, but there’s no anger or malice behind his moments, only eagerness.

A hand moves up to the small of your back, lightly rubbing the fabric on your skin in an almost soothing motion. When you finally break the kiss for air, Lukas moves, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to place sloppy kisses there. You’re breathless, but craving his mouth so badly you direct his head back up to yours with a hand in his hair. He groans into your mouth when you press your chest against his, your boobs straining against your dress. The kisses become dirty and wet. He bites at your lower dip and pulls it a bit. You trace the roof of his mouth with your tongue. Your thighs are squeezing together now, softly grinding into each other to provide some kind of sensation to your throbbing clit. 

You finally say something when his hands move to pull up the skirt of your dress, breaking the kiss with an inhale for breath before quickly speaking.

“Wait, wait.” He does. Pauses his movements but keeps his fingers in the fabric of the dress. “I’m -I uh, haven’t had sex before. And I don’t want to lose my virginity to someone I’m not dating. Or like, in a relationship with.” 

“Okay. Can I still make you cum?”

“Oh, um, sure. Yes.” He’s unfazed by your words, gives you a little smile and another messy kiss before dipping to kneel in front of you. He presses soft kisses to your lower stomach, just barely lifting your dress to expose the very bottom of your panties. When he moves to kiss the front of your mound though, you freeze.

“What are you doing?”

“I was planning on eating your pussy. Is that okay?”

“You want to do that?”

“I would like to, yes.”

“Uh, yeah, okay. I just haven't done this before.” He looks up at you with his piercing blue eyes, waiting until you give him a firm answer. “Can you maybe just tell me what you’re doing? Like, before you do it?”

“I can do that.”

“Okay, okay. Thank you.” You smile down at him, blushing a bit in embarrassment from your lack of knowledge. He returns a small grin, before moving to kiss the front of your pubic bone again. This time, you let him.

He muzzles his nose into the fabric there briefly, before moving his fingers to rub against your panties. They’re soaked, drenched from your time in the car and the heavy making out you had just finished. He chuckles lowly to himself as he feels this, his touch featherlight.

“You’re so wet. Are you that turned on already?” You bite your lower lip and nod, chest beginning to rise and fall quicker.

“I’m going to touch you underneath your panties, is that okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods at you then, using his thumb to hook your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt to the cold night air. Two long fingers move on either side of your slit, giving pressure just outside of where you need it so badly. You whimper at his motions, muffling the sound by pressing your lips together. His index finger moves then, gently grazing over your clit as it travels the length of your vulva, collecting wetness as it does. A few gentle circles around your entrance before returning to your clit, finally pressing there and beginning to trace patterns into the bundle of nerves.

It feels divine. You’d gotten good at pleasing yourself with your twenty plus years of abstinence, but it felt so delicious to have someone else touch the most sensitive parts of your body. Especially someone who knew what they were doing. And from the way Lukas was moving, he knew exactly what he was doing. His index finger drew circles with your clit, joined shortly after by his middle finger to fully pressure the bud. Your head tips back then, brushing the window behind you as a moan escapes your mouth. 

“Don’t fight your noises, I want to hear how good you feel.” The only response you have to his command is to let another whine pass your lips, an action which you hear him groan at. Your fingers move down to grab at your dress, pulling it higher up to expose your bottom half fully, balling your hands into fists in the fabric.

“Fuck, I’m taking these off.” The pressure on your clit stops for a moment, and you lean your head down to look at him. His fingers loop in the sides of your panties to pull them down your thighs. As they reach your calves, you move a hand to his shoulder and stabilize yourself so you can raise your feet out of the garment. You step your last foot out of your panties, and instead of discarding them to the floor, Lukas balls the fabric up, stuffing it in his back pants pocket. He just smiles up at your confused expression, not bothering to explain.

“I’m going to taste you now, okay?”

You nod, and Lukas moves close to you, so close you end up with your back pressed against the window. He lightly holds one of your legs, moving it up and over his shoulder, allowing him better access to your now naked cunt. He leans forward, and with the flat of his tongue, licks a long stripe across your pussy. The feeling is new and exciting, hot and wet and just the right amount of strength. You move a hand to thread through his hair, your other one pressing against the glass behind you to hold you in place. 

His tongue fucks you like you’re his favorite taste, diving in and out of your already soaked folds. When he sucks your clit into his mouth, you choke back more of a scream than a moan. The leg on his shoulder begins to shake, and your brows knit together in ecstasy. It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before, you don’t ever want it to stop. Your climax begins building at a rapid pace, and you feel yourself grinding against Lukas’s tongue, chasing your pleasure with impulsive motions. He lets out a low moan against you, a buzzing hum that vibrates through your body. 

“Fuck Lukas, please don’t stop.” The words come out breathless, followed by a whimper and preceded by a groan. He hums against you again and doubles his efforts, moving his tongue to fuck into your enterance while two fingers come up to rub quickly against your clit. It’s only a few seconds before the tension building in your stomach finally snaps, and with a languid moan you fall apart under Lukas Matsson’s tongue. 

You aren’t even sure what noises escape your lips, too lost in bliss to focus on anything but absolute pleasure. He keeps eating you out until you’re over sensitive and almost pushing his face away, and even then he continues lightly stroking your folds with a few fingers. When you look down at him, his chin is covered in your juices and his pants are tented with an obvious erection.

“Oh my god.”

“That good?” 

“Kiss me again?”

He does, of course. Raises from his knees to grab your chin and pull you into his body, not bothering to wipe his mouth before capturing your lips with his. You can taste yourself on him, tangy and rich and intoxicating. The flavor only spurs you on, pressing your lips to his roughy. He’s hard against your stomach, a feeling that both arouses you and causes some anxiety. Lukas seems content to kiss you forever, tasting your lips like a man starved. When he pulls away to kiss down your neck, you take a moment to speak.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I… want you to feel good too.” 

“You want to get me off?” You nod in response.

“Will you show me what to do? What you like?” 

“Sure. Here, come with me.” He smiles at you, grabs your hand with his, and gently leads you over to the couch in the room. It’s a big, white sectional facing a massive TV. Lukas moves to sit back against it, gently pulling you to sit close to him, nearly sitting in his lap. His erection is even more obvious in this position, his length looking painfully hard against his thigh.

“Can I touch you?” You look up at him with wide eyes, your hand moving to his thigh while you wait for a response. He leans back and nods at you, a slightly cocky grin on his face. Gently, so gently, your hand moves to palm over his cock. He hums as you make contact, quietly encouraging your timid rubbing. 

Fingers explore the imprint of his length in his pants, finger tracing the outline of his cock cautiously. You looked up at him through your lashes, noticing the way his face twitched and changed with your increases in pressure. Pressing a bit harder, you touch him with long strokes, beginning a pattern with your movements. Lukas’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. Something in his stare feels animalistic, like a predator watching its prey. Maybe that should scare you, but if anything it stirs you on, makes you want to please him even more.

“Will you take these off?” Your hands move to his waistband, finger slipping underneath the fabric there, pulling it teasingly from his skin. 

“Of course.” He smirks, uses the back of the couch to prop his hips up, and slowly pulls his pants down his thighs. He doesn’t bother with leaving his briefs, pulling his underwear off with the same motion, leaving only exposed skin in his wake. 

His cock springs up, brushing against his shirt slightly, leaving a small wet spot from the precum on his tip. He’s long, not that you have much to compare it to, and thin, with a red-pink head already leaking. You take a moment to touch him again, slowly sliding your hand across the skin of his thigh until your fingers graze the short blonde hairs at the base of his shaft. Your hand wraps around him, fingers barely touching. His dick is double the length of your hand, standing tall with a slight curve upwards. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t intimidated. Slowly, eyes flickering from Lukas’s face to your hand and back again, you began to stroke him. Your hand gently raised from his base to tip, your thumb grazing over his slit. This elicits a soft gasp from Lukas, a sound that makes you give him a shy smile. The hand on his cock moves back down, your other moving to rest gently on his thigh as you slightly adjust to face him better. Your motions are stuttering and unpracticed, hindered by the dryness of both your skin. Lukas doesn’t seem to mind, his breath coming faster and his hips slightly moving to guide the travel of your hand. 

“I think…” You bite your lower lip in thought, your eyebrows coming together as your sentence trails off. Bending over Lukas’s lap slightly, you look up at him through your dark eyelashes, and let a string of spit fall from your tongue onto his cock. 

The effect on him is immediate, a deep curse falling from his lips as his dick twitches in your grip. His head falls back against the couch, his eyes shut softly. You don’t know if it’s the sensation of the spit on his sensitive tip, or the fact that you were doing something so dirty, but he seems to love your impulsive choice. Your hand gets into a better rhythm, moving much easier as you spread the wetness across the skin of his cock.

“Fuck, how did you know about that?” Lukas is breathless, but still chuckling through his words. 

“I didn't, it just seemed like you needed something wet…” 

He curses again, hums in agreement. You just blush in response, moving your attention back to his length in front of you. Your grip tightens, your motions speed up a bit. The sound of skin fills the room, joined by low hums and moans from Lukas’s throat. The heat between your thighs begins to return, a dull throb causing you to grind your thighs together.

“Does that feel good?” Your voice is quiet and laced with desire when you speak.

“Mhm.” A lazy grin is on Lukas’s face, his arms are spread wide across the back of the couch. “You’re doing so good.”

The compliment goes straight to your cunt, sparks traveling down your thighs at the praise. You move faster, leaning into him more as your hand speeds up, giving him a view of your cleavage. You don’t even notice the desperate whimper that escapes you, but he does.

“Just like that, fuck. Good. Good girl.” Lukas sits up more, a hand moving rest on your thigh as his body begins to tense up. His eyebrows pull together as you continue stroking. Your motions have gotten rough and fast, a physical exhibition of the desperation running through your veins. A string of curses heavily veiled in a Swedish accent leaves Lukas’s mouth, his hips buck roughly into your fist, and with a groan, Lukas Mattson comes in your hand.

Strings of white coats your skin, the fabric of your skirt, the bottom of Lukas’s shirt. He continues thrusting into your hand, chasing his release until he falls against the couch, panting and smiling and spent. Your eyes travel from his face to the ribbons of come on your hand. Instinctually, you bring it to your mouth, licking up the liquid before your thoughts get in the way. 

“You are insane.” Lukas’s voice brings you back to the world. He reaches over and guides you to move into his lap. You straddle him, his softening cock sandwiched between your torsos. He’s all smiles, face blissed out and eyes soft. He brings a hand to your chin, looking into your eyes before placing a surprisingly light kiss to your lips. 

Things are quiet for a moment, your head tucked into Lukas’s neck and his hands around the small of your back. It feels delicate, almost loving, almost corny. It partially scares you, being so intimate with someone you’ve just met, with someone so powerful. But the captivation outweighs the fear. He feels like the Earth; strong, devoted, all-consuming. You could try to leave but he would be everywhere, and you would come back to him.

You stay at Lukas’s that night, wrapped in white sheets with his arm thrown languidly across your waist. In the morning, he tells you that’s the best he’s slept in weeks. You let him see you with smeared makeup and messy hair, listen to him talk about Stockholm and pasta and the sun. He texts you to make sure you get home safe, then texts you a photo of him working on his laptop. You can’t help the smile that comes to your face when you talk to him, one so obvious you have to hide it in public. He calls you every night. 

It’s the closest you’ve come to a relationship, even if it’s something you need to hide from the world. He’s funny and weird and bold and drastic. You feel his hands on your skin in your dreams, like your body is a memory of his touch. He makes you happy, makes you perverted. Things move fast and slow at the same time. It’s confusing and clear all at once.

You’d choose it all over again if you could go back

© secondhand-snow 2024

[vclvetfleur]

Obedient Chapter 5

roman roy x fem! reader

Summary: You and Roman decide to celebrate his small achievement at his apartment over 2 bottles of wine.

Warnings: hints at ED, crude jokes

Word Count : 3.8K

Notes: Alright I needed to be kind to you after the last chapter of the series. Also I can't believe I posted 5 chapters already.

Chapter 5: Parking Lot drop off

After Roman spent a good long while gloating in Kendall’s face, you decided it was enough. You were going to celebrate. Just like you promised him earlier. You both were going to celebrate together. Just you and him and possibly a drink. He needed this.

You both ended at his apartment. This was your first time ever seeing him apartment actually. The location was incredible though. He lived in one the skyscrapers that made up New York City's skyline in Lincoln Square. It was just a 5 minute walk away from Central Park.  But something told you that Roman didn’t ever take walks around the city. Why would he? He didn’t need to.

You walked in, expecting the most from it, and were still blown away by his apartment. You walked through the front door and were visited by a long hallway with the entire right wall being a window out to the city. This hallway pretty made up your studio apartment, credit your apartment was small, only having 2 rooms, your living room/kitchen and your bathroom. But your living area was pretty large enough to fit all your stuff in it. But you weren’t ready for the rest of the apartment.

You were completely amazed by how someone could live in something like this. Someone came in and slept here every night. “I get why you never come to the office now.” You were only halfway joking.

Now the living room. That was something else to see. The couch was practically as big as a king sized bed. The walls were either some kind of fancy wood or just a window. And there was a bookshelf full of book, you doubted Roman even read before. You tried not to gawk at it too much. You couldn’t even believe he had a staircase either. There was another fucking floor.

Roman barely paid you any mind though. He just needed to get out of this suit. He pulled his suit jacket off, laying it on top of his couch, undoing his tie and throwing it right onto of his jacket. He undid his shirt a bit so he could breathe better. He was finally relaxed. Not entirely, he never was fully relaxed, but relaxed enough and comfortable enough with you here.

“Okay you can finish scanning for blind spots to rob me at night.” He scolded you, grabbing a bottle from a small cabinet he had with wines in it. He had two glasses in his hand while he settled on the couch. You joined him, kicking your shoes off, pulling your legs up as you practically curled up onto the couch. It was insanely comfortable. You grabbed a glass from him as he twisted the cork open. He poured you a glass before himself.

“Well fortunately for you, I couldn’t find any blind spots.” You took a sip of your wine, resting your head on your arm. You wouldn’t stop looking over at the view. He had such an amazing view of the city. You could practically see the top of most buildings in New York from here. “Well offer is still on the table if you wanted to live with me.” He hinted again. He wasn’t super amused by his apartment. It was just another thing to show off to people. He mainly only did it to seem better than Kendall. Once Kendall and Rava split up, Roman got this apartment because Kendall got his new apartment. He just wanted to one up him in some way. Kendall’s was 29 million, so Roman needed to get something more expensive and higher. Something with a better view. So, he settled for a 38 million dollar apartment. Right across the park from him. Kendall was on the east side while Roman was on the west side of Manhattan.

“Roman.” You exhaled. Your head fell, looking up before looking at him with your answer. It wasn’t going to happen. Ever.

“Jeez alright fuck you. I don’t wanna live with you anyways, probably would give me Gonorrhea or whatever the fuck.” His only defense was a joke.

He always tried to make jokes to cover up whenever he was serious about something. He just wanted to keep people guessing. No one took him serious anyways. Why would they?

“I’m pretty sure between the two of us, you’ve actually gotten or have Gonorrhea.” You striked back before pouring yourself another glass. You weren’t a wine person, but it wasn’t too bad. You were celebrating anyways.

“Oh ya, that must be why I’ve been bleeding out of my dick for a week. I just thought I finally hit womanhood.” He snickered behind his glass. You stared over at him, just enjoying his company.

It was nice. Calm. Nothing to stress the other one out. This was just a moment of contentment that you both shared together in this room. No pressure from work or professionalism.

“You’re a fucking idiot Rome.” You shook your head. That must’ve been the first time you ever called him that. Everyone close to him did. And by close, you meant his siblings or certain people who worked for his dad like Gerri. It caught him off guard for a bit, but he was happy to hear you call him that. It made him feel just a bit closer to you.

“Yeah… I know.” His lips allowed themselves to grow into a soft smile. His eyes were glued to you.

He didn’t care about what or who you were before he met you. Which he usually did. He never really talked to anyone he thought was below him. He had deep rooted classism heavily taught to him, and he never unlearned it, he wasn’t planning to either. But you made him kind of finally see there was no real difference.

But that’s not why he was staring. Not cause he was even thinking about the difference of class between you two. But because he thought you were one of the most gorgeous people he has ever met in his life. The way your hair fell, to the shape of your lips, to how you moved your hands when you talked quick enough. Or even just the way you talked to him. Like an equal. Someone with worth. You were harsh, but behind it, you had such a soft and caring tone to you. Everything about you made him just feel an almost, kind of obsession. You were never something he looked for, he never was really looking for anything or anyone. But here you were. In front of him. Laughing and giggling at all of his jokes and making fun of him back. Celebrating his dumb achievements with him. He wanted you. Bad. But he had so much fear of messing it up that it held him back.

“Aren’t you gonna call me a terrible assistant?” You tried to break the silence that fell onto both of you.

You didn’t mind the silence though. It wasn’t awkward. It was comforting. You didn’t need to speak to each other to fill the emptiness in the room. Despite all of the amazing artwork and other things Roman had in his apartment, they barely existed in the scheme of things. When there was just you and him either talking or not, he was the only thing even grabbing your attention. You tried to move your eyes to look at other things, but that calming effect the city and the light usually had on you was now replaced with Roman. The same calming comfort.

“No... I don’t need to. Cause you did it for me.” His laugh was so weird but so infectious. It wasn’t really like a normal laugh. Logan even once compared it to a hyena. But whenever you heard it, it made you wanna laugh along with. It was usually stifled or muffled. Or broken in between his words. Like he was so excited to tell the next joke. Or say the next thing that popped into his head.

You flipped him off, his hand smacking your hand down. His hand never left yours though once he dragged it down. You stared at him for a bit before pulling your hand away from his. It was too weird. It was too intimate for you.

You used to not be a very affectionate person, swearing off all kinds of touch from whoever. But as you had gotten older and into more relationships, you seemed to relax. Now you did enjoy affection. But sometimes that old habit came back. And right now, with the comfort, and with Roman, and the light, and the wine, it felt too intimate. Too much. You didn’t want to ruin it with Roman either. Even if you didn’t want to admit to yourself it was more about your crush on him than anything else. How could you not at this point?

The way you looked at him and the way you saw him, like actually saw him, was all it took for you to even realize it. But you were in denial about it. Like most of your crushes. You never wanted to admit that vulnerability to yourself.

And first off, you weren’t even allowed to have a crush on him. He was your boss. On every level, you were beneath him. And you didn’t want that kind of attention. So, you need to suppress these feelings as much as possible.

And second off, look at him. He wasn’t really the most conventionally attractive person you’ve met. He was odd looking, he was short, he was weird and disgusting and he wasn’t the most respectful person ever . He was rude and arrogant and selfish. He was the worst person you’ve ever met. Second. Logan had to be the first. But you saw a lot of good qualities in him. Even in his appearance. Every part of his face made sense together. It would look odd on others, but they made sense on his face. Especially when he laughed. You couldn’t explain your attraction to him. Maybe cause you didn’t think you were too different. He was good company. He made you laugh. He made you smile. And he did go out of his way to do certain things. Like getting you the dresses for the party. He knew you wouldn’t have a clue on what to wear. You didn’t even own anything expensive enough to wear at the party. But he had it covered. He was gonna make sure you were comfortable enough. It backfired though when he humiliated you. He had his moments.

“Uh- so how are you settling in now?” He asked. He wanted to know; genuinely. See. He had his moments.

“I’ve been settling in fine. I think it was difficult a bit at first with you not showing up a lot, but everyone’s been super nice. I even met your cousin the other day in the break room.” You mentioned. Roman shifted a bit. He tried to think on what cousin that worked there before he finally remembered the tall dufus who got hired merely on the bases of coming out of the vagina of his dad’s brothers nutsack. Not that he was any better. He just came from the CEO’s nutsack. Granted Logans brother use to be CEO, before Logan fucked him over and practically stole it from Ewan. “He was such a sweetheart.” You praised. A hint of jealousy kind of took over Roman once he heard the compliment leave your lips.

“Yea except for the fact he’s fucking useless. You know I think him and my sister’s husband are fucking. I see them together more than him and Shiv.” Roman began to start a rumor out of pure jealousy and envy. He knew they weren’t actually fucking. Tom was Shiv’s little lap dog. If she said sit, he would do 5 other tricks just to impress her and then sit. He was at her feet all the time. “I wouldn’t be shocked, they’re in an open marriage. I actually dated this blonde Tom fucked at his bachelor party.” He tried to brag. Your face scrunched up in disgust at the thought of dating or fucking someone else that your brother or sister in law also fucked.

“Jesus Roman.” You murmur.

“No come on. It was afterwards. It was some sex party. It’s fine” He tried to blur the lines of how fucking odd that was. He didn’t know how to back peddle his way into making this any less weird than it was. “They didn’t even technically fuck. He just came in her mouth.” He tried to reason. Somehow it was way worse.

“In that case, I don’t want to share a glass with you.” You teased.

“Oh yea?” He asked, his eyebrows raised. He grabbed your glass before licking the entire rim of it. You let out a squeal, screaming his name before he handed it back to you. “You’re so fucking gross.” You whined, getting up to get a new glass from his cabinet.

“Oh, come on, it was so long ago. I should be more worried than you. You can’t act like you haven’t had cum in your mouth before. I bet you let someone cum on your face last month.” He sipped the last bit of his drink before getting up with you to get a new bottle as well.

“Why are you so obsessed with the idea of people cumming on my face?” You jokingly asked. It was mentioned maybe once after you accused him of the same. But it was fun putting Roman on the spot like that. The thing about Roman is, whatever he said, no matter how insane it was, no one knew if he was lying or telling the truth. Only cause what he said all the time was so outrageous. Even the night of the party. Jess calling up Kendall’s dealer. He said it as if it was a joke, but Jess and him knew it was true. It was kind of an open secret. But you hadn’t been working there long enough to know that yet.

“Cause I wanna see what it looks like with cum on your face.” He answered, grabbing another bottle of wine. He helped you find another glass, nonchalantly.

“Roman, you are one of the nastiest people I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting.” You grabbed the glass from him. You rarely ever took him seriously. No one did. Roman always said shocking things to get a reaction. “Let’s not pretend like you don’t want to fuck me too.” He fired back at you. You rolled your eyes at him, assuming that’d shut him up. Reality was, you did. “Follow me. I wanna show off how rich I am.” He led you towards his balcony. You were looked around, getting an entire view of the city. You could see most of it from where you stood. The balcony went around most of his apartment.

Roman sat down on some chairs he had outside, and you followed. Your eyes watched the skylines and then down to the floor. You could barely see people, but you could hear how noisy everything was, all the yelling and the honking and street noises and laughter. It brought a sense of happiness to you. You never imagined being somewhere like this to even see this kind of view of the city.

“You’re not gonna jump, are you?” Roman asked, breaking your gaze from the city to him. You shook your head no.

You both decided to just spend the night together, laughing and drinking. It had gotten too cold outside, and you both went back inside the house where you continued your night. Before you knew it, it was 3 am and you both had fallen asleep. Your head laid onto his shoulder as he was slumped on the couch, his head leaning on yours. Your legs scrunched up and near him. You both kept each other at a distance yet were close to one another.

You woke up to Roman still asleep on the couch next to you. You shot up from the couch, still careful not to wake him. You searched the apartment for your phone before finally finding it. It was dead. Fuck. You found Romans to look up the time. 7:43 am. Fuck. You both have to be in the office in just over an hour. Roman could make it on time. You weren’t sure you could. Your apartment had to be at least 30 minutes away from Romans apartment and then the time it took you to get ready and then go back to the office would take an extra 50 minutes. You grabbed your shoes before hearing a sneaky comment being made right behind you.

“Oh no, did we have a one night stand that we can’t take back?” Roman voice coarse and not as energetic as it usually was. Your line tightened in a thin line before looking over at him.

“I need to get home so I can get ready for work.” You tried to explain. You hadn’t even looked at your makeup yet. it had to look awful after sleeping in it.

“Just get ready here.” Roman shrugged, getting up from the couch finally. He stretched before finally settling. “You know I can’t Rome.” You tried to reason with him. “Yea yea you don’t want people thinking you’re a whore who’s fucking her boss even though that’s exactly what you are.” He headed to his kitchen to make himself a coffee. “Look, i'll send my driver. You won’t be late. Just have coffee with me in the meantime.” He was ready to beg. He sent a quick text to his driver before grabbing you another mug.

“Fine. Uh- Can I just charge my phone?” You asked. Roman nodded and you panicked to find one. You found one and plugged your phone, waiting for it to turn on. “Hey, can you get the fuck up and make your coffee?” He called out to you. You pulled away from the phone and went to Roman. You searched his fridge for milk, not finding a plant based milk. Not shocking to you. In all honesty you couldn’t find much in his fridge. He had just milk for his coffee, water bottles, alcohol and some fruit. Not much. It reminded you of your own fridge.

“Do I not have any milk? Oh god you’re not one of those environmental fucking hippies that only drink dirt and eat grass.” He scoffed. You didn’t have the heart to tell him. You shook your head and sipped on your coffee.

You decided to sit with Roman for a while before the driver got here. You put your cup into the washer for him before leaving the penthouse. And off you went home. Despite the harsh morning yesterday, you do think you found it in your heart to forgive Roman for the party. You just couldn’t tell him.

You removed your makeup and charged your work iPad while getting ready once again to see Roman. And off you were to work. This was so much easier than taking the subway. And way faster than the train from your neighborhood to FiDi. You even had time to get yourself a coffee you’d actually enjoy drinking. You ordered for one for Roman too. He thankfully was on his way from work since you woke him up early. You sat in his office and reviewed your notes. You had been texting Jess all morning. You were planning on finding a new wardrobe for yourself since you were finally getting paid today. Actually, you didn’t even check your paycheck yet. You didn’t want to. You were scared.

Roman burst into the room, grabbing the latte you left for him, taking a sip. “Wait let me see yours.” He insisted, grabbing yours to see the sticker on it saying oat. “God you’re even more pretentious than me. I can’t believe you lied to me.” Romans laugh stifled before setting it back down. He wouldn’t stop mocking as he even went into a bit on you ordering the coffee for yourself, feminizing himself in a terrible offensive way. “Rome. Quit it.” You tried to stop him, but you were too busy laughing at him, which only encouraged him more. He actually seemed excited to work with you. He was still incredibly lazy, but less lazy now that he had someone pushing him to actually do stuff for him. No wonder his dad and brother had assistants. That must be why they got so much work done. Or Roman was just trying to impress you.

You just spent most of your time sitting back after Roman went to meeting after meeting, but he just went you texts the entire time. You and Jess sat back during a meeting together while Roman and Kendall worked on their meeting together. “What are you laughing at?” Jess smiled, looking over at your phone. She was glad to see you so happy after the party. Though she wasn’t too happy about the whole Kendall Roman thing yesterday, it wasn’t on you. It was purely between them. Beside Jess adored you and you adored her. She couldn’t ever take that on you, even if Kendall made her do more work and went off on some emotional roller coaster. All she could think was; at least it wasn’t Roman.

“Nothing. Just a text.” You reassured her before putting your phone away. But Jess saw another text from Roman pop up. She didn’t have the nerve to bring it up. But she saw your face light up and your smile return as you answered it. Oh god. Not you. She was in complete horror. Not you and Roman. The thought disgusted her. As it would with anyone.

“Alright, so where are we going after work?” She wondered. “Do you want to get dinner too?” She offered. She knew about your past issues; she knew how you were still. You ate, just you really took it out on yourself whenever you did not eat as good as you wanted. It was a vicious cycle you went through. But you were doing good enough to get dinner tonight with Jess. You nodded and began to go over your plans of where you wanted to go shopping.

She was excited for you. You seemed happier. You were lighter on your feet. You were laughing more. You were kind of miserable when you first started, but you got the hang of it fairly quick with Roman. And now you actually had a job rather than stressing yourself out about your qualities and skills and not understanding why you couldn’t find anything. You were not in panic mode anymore.

Your heads turned, hearing Kendall and Roman leave together. “Fucking twat.” Roman said loud enough for Kendall but low enough for the board and investors.

“Sorry Jess, I’ll see you again after the parking lot drop off.” You joked before Jess followed Kendall and you followed Roman.

“What the fuck is a parking lot drop off?” Roman asked.

Chapter 6

[franklyimissparis]

11 halloween couples’ costumes (alternate universe) miles and alex would/should wear

- han solo and luke skywalker: alex and his perfect hair would be han and miles with his big eyes would be luke with little maxie as chewbacca being a necessity obviously.

- 70s era lennon and mccartney: despite miles’ love of lennon, he would be mccartney with a terrible mullet wig and the famed strawberry macca jacket while alex would have the classic lennon nyc look.

- brokeback mountain: alex would be ennis and miles would be jack and that’s that. max would be their little sheep to herd.

- freddie mercury and rogerina from the i want to break free music video: this one would be so fun, i would pay so much to see miles parading around as freddie and alex as rogerina chewing gum. alex would take a bit of convincing from miles but then would have a few drinks and be so into it the whole night.

- butch cassidy and the sundance kid: i feel like they’ve both gone through a phase of being really into this film and could see either of them being both characters.

- tom and greg from succession: i would be surprised if alex hasn’t watched succession and even though he may be a bit more like kendall if i’m being honest i think he’d enjoy being tom for a night and having miles as his greg. this is definitely a last minute costume and miles would just go along with it bc alex thought it was funny and he said that max could be tom’s dog, mondale.

- dr no and james bond: alex would finally get to live out his bond villain dream! and miles would be a fab sean connery

- iceman and maverick from top gun: no man their age hasn’t had a bit of a top gun fantasy before and i think alex would enjoy any costume that involves wearing sunglasses.

- ferris bueller and cameron: miles is ferris and alex is cameron and miles is significantly more into the costume than alex is.

- WITHNAIL AND I!!!!!!!!: do i even have to explain this one??

- mick jagger and david bowie from the dancing in the street music video: this one is so fun and SO them. miles in the crazy patterned jumpsuit as bowie and alex as jagger, complete with all the head presses and gay dancing. perfect.

[myloveforhergoeson]

October 2nd

Prompt: Apparition

Having the Palm Woods Hotel right smack dab in the middle of Los Angeles afforded the band, their assistant, and friends no shortage of things to do and places to explore. For instance, Big Time Rush had recently discovered a discount movie theater a few blocks from their apartment building, where on Wednesday nights, it was practically cheaper than dirt to catch some old out-of-traditional-theater classics.

Since the air in LA was growing cooler, the chill of October beginning to seep into every little crack of the city, the discount theater had begun a run of older, spookier films; The band and their friends had decided to take advantage of this fact, snagging some last-minute tickets to The Sixth Sense.

As someone with the actual sixth sense, it was hard for Roxy not to take the movie as a comedy. She had to remember to snuggle into her boyfriend's arm at all the scary twists and turns, instead of laughing so hard soda squirted out her nose. But, seeing a movie with James as her boyfriend for the first time was nice - There were plenty of excuses to be all up in his personal space, and the darkness of the theater provided some nice coverage for covert kisses... Until James actually grew interested in the later half of the film.

Judging by the claminess of his hand as she clasped it in hers, he'd been sufficiently spooked by the end. This trait seemed to have affected a few of the other boys and Camille as well, leaving Jo, Kendall, Stephanie, and Roxy to criticize the cheesiness of the film as they made their way home that evening.

Smog hanging thick over the city skyline made it hard to see both the stars and moon as the teens headed down Hollywood Boulevard. Normally, this street was full of hustle and bustle as tourists took a walk down the Hollywood Walk of Fame, dined in the dozens of both chain and local restaurants, and took advantage of all the tourist attractions lining both sides of the street, but it was getting to be almost midnight now, so most of the businesses were either closed or on track to very soon.

That left the band of teenagers mostly to their own devices, chatting about this and that as they passed the darkened shop windows and the last stragglers trying to find somewhere to hunker down for the night.

James' jacket and arm were wrapped around Roxy's shoulders as she listened to her friends chatter on, so grateful for an evening where they got to hang out all together, forget about the stresses of their unconventional jobs, and feel like "normal" teenagers for the first time in quite a while. She pressed into his side as they rounded the corner to take them off the main road and back to the Palm Woods, stealing as much of his body heat as possible.

Crash!

The sound of a glass bottle being smashed against the rocky asphalt underfoot rang out from an alleyway they walked past; All of the hair on Roxy's arms stood. Not a good sign at all.

"What was that?" Carlos wondered aloud, the first of the group to stop and peer down the dimly lit space. Though the entrance seemed to be quite wide between two taller buildings, as they all paused to look, the lines of walls seemed to go on forever and ever, narrowing but never-ending.

It took everything Roxy had in her not to shout, "Back!" the moment Kendall took a step forward, squinting as his eyes scanned the area, attempting to figure out where the sound came from. She was beginning to grow nauseous, needing to hold onto her boyfriend a bit tighter to keep her balance.

"Probably nothing..." The blond replied, hand still clasped in Jo's before she pointed to a dumpster on the side of the alleyway.

"No, look there!"

As everyone followed her finger, they all noticed a large, black dog clawing into one of the trash bags at its base. Its growls were loud enough to be heard even though they were quite far from the animal.

Every part of Roxy's brain was screaming at her to flee immediately, but there was no way to communicate this to her friends without raising suspicion of both herself and the creature.

Camille's arm fell from where she was hugging Logan's waist, facial features drooping. "Aww, poor thing. It must be so hungry."

"We can call animal control when we get home," Roxy tried, tugging on James' arm to try and get her friends moving again. She had no idea what they could be up against, but her mind was fluttering somewhere between the scale of werewolf and hellhound. Neither were good options, nor were nay of the ones in the middle, if they were to get caught with the hungry creature. "They can come take care of it."

If James sensed her unease, he didn't show it. "And just take it to lock it up in the pound? That's horrible!"

"Well, we can't take it home with us! No pets at the Palm Woods," Stephanie reminded them, gripping the straps of her cross-body bag.

"Yeah, but is it worse to leave it here where it can run out on the road and get hit by a car or something?" Logan asked, genuinely, turning to his friends with wide eyes.

Oh, that thing is definitely making it out of a car crash... The person behind the wheel... Not as likely...

The witch needed to do something, and fast before the dog noticed them, but there were too many eyes on the creature for her to make any kind of move. Silently, she racked her brain for anything she could think of to drive the beast away from them covertly, without adding to the strangeness of the situation.

As she looked to the sky for help, it was just her luck the fall clouds had parted, granting her full view of the gorgeous, bright crescent moon above them.

Bingo.

"Woah... Check out the moon!"

Though she couldn't think of any astrological phenomenon that would explain why the sliver of the visible satellite planet was so cool, she saw her friend's heads snap up at her words, pulling their attention from the dog-like creature for a second. With a wave of her hand, a conjuration of amber-colored sparkles shot down the alley, lighting its path like the flame of a candle, before stopping in front of the creature, and forming in the shape of a large man.

Had she traded enough of her energy to make it look like a real man, she'd probably pass out on the spot, so she'd settled for a shadow-like figure appearing by the dumpster to spook the animal.

Her figure raised its arms above its head, lunging in toward the dog and it let out a nasty bark before tucking its tail and running in the opposite direction from the teens down the alley.

It was just her luck Carlos chose that exact moment to return his attention to the dog, trading his view of the moon for a view of the shadowed apparition in the middle of the alley.

"Uh... Guys.." He started and Roxy hurriedly waved her hand again, heart pounding in her chest as the figure disappeared. "Did anyone else see the shadow figure or was it just me?"

Now everyone was looking at Carlos, trying and failing to contain their laughter at his question. Though she felt bad for contributing to the teasing, Roxy needed to blend in despite the blood rushing to her ears, and he was perfect to toss the attention to at this point in time. How had he sensed the figure was there so quickly? It was only present for a few split seconds...

It seemed as though the creature was all but forgotten by the other teens in a matter of moments.

"Don't tell me the movie got into your head that much," Stephanie grinned. Tucking her arm into his, the director was the first to start moving in the direction of the Palm Woods. "There's no such thing as ghosts!"

"No, Steph, I swear-" The boy tried to defend himself, but his friends' amusement only grew. "Something was right there-"

Carlos didn't get another chance to defend himself as the group continued on, vowing they wouldn't take him to a scary movie so late at night ever again.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

blurb 3 of blurb night!!

Military School

brother!roman; reader is a Roy

prompt: “it popped in my head and i weeped (jk) but i think maybe little one shot of roman having to go off to military school and leaving his baby sister who watched him sob after logan was a bitch one too many times when he was young and she was even younger so before he leaves she has to hold him and comfort him cause he's just a scared little traumatized child in a adult trench coat BDKWBD and when he comes back he is like jumping for joy and yeah happy ending we need those more often TEHE”

I love u sissy thank u for requesting <3

“Hey, come on, don’t cry.”

Roman pulls you into a tight hug, and he’s keenly aware of the dampening of his shirt from your tears.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he got to this point, but he did. Military school. He’s barely a teenager; you’re barely a child.

“I don’t want you to go,” you admit quietly. He was your lifeline in this shitty family. The only one around for long enough to take care of you. What’ll happen when he’s gone? What’ll happen to you.

“I don’t, either, but he’s making me,” he says, his voice cracking. And all of a sudden, this isn’t about you anymore. Tears begin forming at his waterline, and he desperately tries biting them back.

“You’ll come back, though, won’t you?” you ask meekly. “You’ll come back big and strong.”

He laughs, but there’s no joy in the sound. “I’ll come back. I promise I will, don’t worry.”

“Will you let me write letters to you?”

He gives your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll write to you.” He pauses. “Um, be good, okay? Don’t get into any trouble. Don’t be like me.”

You don’t know what he’s talking about. You idolize him. You want to be just like him- kind, caring, thoughtful, witty.

“Roman!” comes your father’s shout from downstairs. Your brother flinches, but gets up from the floor of your room where the two of you are sat. With shaking hands, he holds your head and presses a kiss to your crown.

“I have to go.” His voice is trembling. He makes his way to the door before stopping and looking back over his shoulder. “I love you. Don’t do anything stupid.”

And then he’s gone.

The next few years are lonely. He keeps his promise and writes you letters every so often, but they’re short and devoid of any substance. While Shiv and Kendall come home to visit you often, it’s just not the same. Neither of them sit down with you like Roman did. They don’t really take the time.

You take his advice to heart. You stay out of trouble- specifically with your dad -and just mind your business as the years go on. Life is boring. It’s lonely. But that’s how it’s going to be- you’re a Roy, and you’re the youngest. When he does come back, you’re the only one who goes to the airport for him.

The driver doesn’t actually let you go inside- too much paparazzi, too much danger. You wait patiently, fiddling with the sleeves of your shirt. It’s not as climactic as you expected it to be, but at the same time, it felt natural. Neither of you were the dramatic type, neither of you wanted to be the dramatic type. There were already too many characters in your family. Too many draining ones.

He slides into the seat next to you, the bags under his eyes defined and deep. Wordlessly, you hug, his hand clapping your back. “You’re all big now,” he says quietly.

“You calling me fat?” you ask slyly, smirk developing on your face.

“What? No!” He then notices your expression. “Oh, fuck you.” You both laugh, and you give his shoulder a squeeze. You don’t know what to say, what to do. You’re just glad he’s back in one piece.

He avoids your father for the rest of the day. You’re on the floor of your room, like you were those few years ago, finishing some schoolwork when he knocks on your door frame. “No loitering,” you tell him.

“Wanna go to Target? I don’t want to be here when Dad gets home.”

“Will you buy me something?”

“No.”

“Then you’re on your own.” Despite your words, you get to your feet and fish out a jacket from your closet.

The two of you don’t really do anything in the store. He wanders around, you follow him. It’s like he’s here for the first time, his eyes snagging on displays and the shelves of colorful, junky snacks. “I haven’t had Doritos in years,” he tells you as you wind through the aisles.

“Then get some.”

“You’re just going to eat them.”

“No, I won’t,” you lie. He rolls his eyes at you but grabs a bag anyway. “Come on, we should just pig out. You look like a malnourished Victorian child.” Without waiting for him to answer, you grab things from the shelves and keep them gathered in your arms.

You spend the evening in his car, talking about life with your brother and munching on the snacks he’d gotten for himself. Life’s better now that you have a friend again.

[ceruleanmusings]

Big Time Double Date - Mickames

i don't really have anything to say about this one. just that this is one of my all time favorite btr eps. i wish they did more bottle episodes, or rather more episodes where everyone was all in one place with intertwining plots. also, jett was the best part of this episode hands down! i loved all his scenes!

@partiallypearl @raging-violets @witchofinterest @myloveforhergoeson

------

Mickey heaved a sigh of relief when the broom closet door closed. She rested her back against it, eyes darting from side to side. The last thing she wanted was to get caught; she’d lose her job over this! Not that she really needed the job, being in a band tended to help with a lot of expenses but she wanted to keep it.

She loved picking up shifts at Chez Fancee when she wasn’t busy. Being in the thick of a dinner rush, creating delectable French cuisine, and providing a great experience and lasting memories for the guests gave her a rush nothing could touch. Performing onstage in front of thousands of people came close. And yet here she was putting it all on the line to make sure her friend had a great date.

They can’t say I don’t do anythin’ for ‘em!

“Katie, I love your style, but knocking him out was a little much I think,” Mickey commented when Katie rushed around the corner. A tree hat sat atop of her head, accompanied by leaves and fronds hanging off her clothes. If she stood still long enough people could mistake her for a plant.

“It’s just a dinner roll, he’ll be fine,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“If that knocked Henri out, I don’t think he will be,” Mickey said, glancing over her shoulder at the closed door. She didn’t have much time to think about Henri and his apparently compromised health or balance due to a hissing by her ear. Katie and Mickey both looked in the direction of the sound. A second later James popped his head around the corner, his short hair slicked to his head.

“Pssssssst!” he hissed again, louder.

“Keep a look out,” she told Katie. Katie gave her a thumbs up sign and Mickey rushed around the corner, glancing back to ensure the manager didn’t catch her. He was a nice guy, especially for giving her a shot with her unpredictable schedule. She didn’t want to ruin that. But then again, on the flipside, she didn’t want Carlos to have a bad date with Jennifer 3. Jennifer 3 was very nice once you got to know her. And Mickey had total hair envy when it came to Jennifer 3.

“Help!” James hissed once Mickey got within reach of her.

Mickey came to a stop, blinking rapidly while looking him up and down. “With…with what?” She asked because, well, it couldn’t be with how he looked. He looked good. James always looked good, but he looked good. She actively had to remind herself to keep her jaw from dropping. Her momma always said to never underestimate the power of a guy in a suit, and she was not kidding. With James’ slicked hair and his nice clothes, he looked as if he were ready to film scenes in an old Hollywood movie. The only thing missing was a cigar nestled between two fingers.

“The guys are here!” he replied, tugging the bottom of his tuxedo jacket.

Mickey made a face, shifting the tracks of her mind from James on the glossy pages of GQ to the issue at hand. God, she hoped he didn’t notice the heat pooling in her cheeks. “Which guys?”

“All of them! Kendall and Jazz are here with Kelly and…some guy—”

“Oh, that’s Owen!” Perking up, Mickey breathed easier. This was a safe topic. “He’s our UPS guy. They were supposed to be going somewhere el—”

“And Logan’s here with some girl who looks like him and Camille’s here with Jett!” James continued, his voice kicking up a notch.

“Okay, that’s not too bad. …I gotta ask her about that later but that’s not too bad.” Honestly, she could do better than Jett. And weren’t she and Logan just together that morning? Mickey made a mental note to ask Camille about this whole situation later. Her dramatics would certainly make the story interesting, and something told her she’d need a good story after a long night. But damn they were more topsy-turvy than a see-saw!

“Gustavo’s here too!”

Mickey gasped. “Oooh, that’s bad!”

“I know!” James cried out, fiddling with the untied bowtie hanging around his neck.

“He’s supposed to be watching his blood pressure,” Mickey continued.

“…That’s kind of not the point—gah!” The end of his sentence chopped off due to him tightening the bowtie loop around his neck. His eyes bulged and his tongue stuck out, his fingers scrambling for the loop knot he’d made. Seconds passed and red grew in his cheeks. “Mickey…Mickey, help!”

“Oh my god! Stop, stop, let me do it!” Mickey slapped his hands away and stepped closer, yanking the knot away from his neck. His chest heaved with his deep breath and she swallowed the lump rising, watching the fabric stretch across it. Focus! Gathering her wits, she pulled the bowtie apart, letting the two ends lie parallel to his neck. Smoothing the ends between her fingers, she took in a Cuda-scented breath through her nose and began to let her fingers fly in practiced ease. Doing her best to ignore the rise and fall of his chest, Mickey clicked her tongue. “You can tie a necktie, but you can’t tie a bowtie?”

“Mama Knight usually does it for me.”

The simple sincerity in his answer made her take pause, her fingers fumbling before they stilled. Nose wrinkling, she pulled the half-knot apart and started again. “That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah, she’s really cool.”

She gave the finished bowtie a few tugs making sure it held tight and smoothed her hands down his chest. His heart beat hard beneath her fingers. Her eyes flew open wide and her lips parted and pushed out a squeak before backing away, directing her eyes to the floor, dropping her arms to her sides. “Sorrysorrysorry!” Her apology slammed together, falling off her tongue faster than she could form the words. If James said anything she didn’t hear it, didn’t want to hear it. The further away she kept him, the better. In fact, she managed to form some semblance of a sentence, telling him she’d be right back, before rushing off. She ducked behind the host stand when her manager and a few servers walked by, carrying large trays. It was where she wanted to go anyway. She tugged the box of items that had been left behind by patrons, rummaging through it until she found what she needed. With a triumphant grin, she hurried back to James. Along the way she grabbed an extra apron from the entryway to the kitchen; it fluttered behind her like a cape.

“Okay, tie this around your waist,” she said, a little breathless, once she reached him. “Keep a booklet in your pocket to take orders.”

“I can’t take orders!” James said, doing as he was told. A few quick twists of his fingers and the apron lay against his waist. “I’m not an actual server!”

“I know, but you’re going to take Carlos and Jennifer’s orders. And by that, I mean it’s already written. I picked out the best dishes for them. Pretend to take their orders and bring the paper to me. I’ll make sure the food is perfect and out on time.”

“Oh.” James took the notebook out of the pocket and opened it up. “You have nice handwriting.”

“Thank you.” Mickey sucked in a breath, blinked, and got her mind back on the topic at hand. “Katie will be running interference. Check on them every now and then. If you need anything, I’ll be right behind those doors. Now, how’s your French?”

“Huh?”

“French. Do you know any French?”

James’s eyes lifted to the ceiling as he thought for a moment. When he looked back down, a light had ignited behind his eyes. “Voulez vous couch—”

“Stop it.” Mickey squeezed her eyes shut as she thrust out her palm, blocking his words.

James’s shoulders rounded. “Sorry.”

“Forever.”

“Got it.”

Honestly, why was that always someone’s first answer? They needed to get more material. Whatever. She had more things to worry about. Waving her hands in front of her, she wiped his slate clean. “Forget it. How’s your French accent?”

“Oui oui, hon hon, try ze baguette.”

Her eye twitched. “…Close enough. Just keep that up and keep your face hidden and we should be fine. Just, one more thing…” She reached upwards and he obediently leaned forward, moving in sync. She pressed a large, fake mustache against his top lip, keeping a firm hold for a few seconds. Once secure she slipped a pair of glasses over his nose and took a step back, looking at him with new eyes. It was so unfair he looked good in glasses too. Her big reading glasses probably would look good on him too, on her they made her look like a nerd. Well, she was a nerd to a degree, but the glasses didn’t help. She clapped her hands together, the sharp sound making James jump. “Okay, team, we’re all set! Remember, we’re doing this for Carlos.”

“Friendship powers, activate!” James announced, pointing a triumphant finger in the air.

“I’m not doing it this time,” Katie said with a shake of her head, making James pout. Mickey jumped in, easily executing the odd handshake James had come up with, doing her best to ignore the spark at her fingertips upon their hands touching. He’d been working on it for weeks, mostly with Carlos and sometimes with her, noting it’d only be brought out when they really needed it. And Carlos really needed them.

The group split up with James holding his arm up to his face, looking much like Batman with his cape draped up to his face. With a few quick flicks of her wrist, Mickey cuffed the sleeves of her dress shirt, only catching the smirk on Katie’s face at the last second. “You two looked cozy,” Katie all but sang.

“Shut up, Katie,” Mickey grumbled. “You’re the one who didn’t want to do the handshake.”

“Because it’s dumb. I don’t know why you encourage those idiots.”

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself.” Deep down Mickey knew. It was because they were fun, and they were her friends. Back home she only really had her sisters as friends. And, yeah, maybe they all came along just because of their connection to Kelly but she loved the guys. They made her life interesting. She wouldn’t have fun like this back on the East Coast. She and her sisters had their own kinds of adventures but the adventures she’d been having out here with them were on another level.

“Do you really think Jennifer 3 could be the girl for him?” Katie spoke up after a moment of silence.

“I think he’s trying hard,” Mickey said slowly, “and he shouldn’t have to try hard. So, as long as we get him relaxed, anything could happen.” She bit her lip, peering past Katie to see Carlos’ and Jennifer’s table nearby. “He’s very sweet. Any girl would be lucky to have someone like him. They just have to notice.”

Shrugging, Katie went to blend in with the plants. Mickey ran her hands over her hair, smoothing down any stray kinky curls, blowing out a breath. She caught James’ eye from across the room. He grinned and held up his hand, wiggling the shaka sign. Their secret way of communicating, checking if everything was okay. She smiled and waved the sign back.

If there was one thing she learned about being around them, everything would work out the way it needed to.

She may as well sit back and enjoy the ride.

[shadowbrightshine]

I'm at an old closed Christmas shop. It's got a beautiful organ that's been in the shop since 1960 and it's only open for about a week of the year. Pictures and more will be at the end.

I made friends with a woman, asked them to sing happy birthday for a random stranger at request, met the Nora town cat, and more. Stories below

The town, or the town sign says population 5.

This is a tiny town seemingly that consists of only the people who live in this shop.

I think the shop itself is the town. The shop-town-place of Nora. Population 5+ the Nora cat.

And once for a week every year the shop opens and they play the organ. The building is under federal/government protection apparently. It's old and so cool.

It's beautiful. Here's a little bit of the organ playing. I'll be rebloging this with a video so it isn't hidden from me.

The man who plays the organ and owns the shop is very funny. He's been doing this yearly thing for 35 years. The shop closed down years ago. You can't buy any merchandise of the event either. Memories have to do.

And he holds this for free.

I love living in the small town area of my state. My own town is only about 10k people, but it's bigger than some.

This is a beautiful thing.

Thank you tiny towns.

I just sang the highest notes I ever have for "O Holy Night" and I didn't choke once. If I had a recording I would keep it forever because I haven't felt that proud of myself singing in a long time. This place feels like a dream.

Like the movies, when you're in a beautiful little town and surrounded by strangers but you leave as friends.

A little boy in a rainbow striped jacket spilled water all over my jacket and I just sent him to go get his mom because he also spilled it on his monkey plush that according to him has no name. I'm alright, it's fleece it doesn't really absorb water.

We ran out of chairs so families are standing by us at the snack table, I made friends with a mom whose two year old keeps kicking me and dropped his stuff on my feet. It's ok, he's just a toddler.

I gave my book of songs to the standing family. Most of the pages are falling out from years of use.

I've been using a big bell ringer and I love it.

I've never felt closer to God here with all these people singing to an old organ in the middle of nowhere, all crowded together in a tiny closed down store.

I made friends with the woman standing next to me. Her name is Kendal, and her son is 2 years old and loves tractors.

Kendal asked me to call out a request for happy birthday for a woman named Donna. I'm not sure how they were related but I loudly called out the request for her.

She told me I had a beautiful voice, and then the woman in front of us turned around and agreed! I added both to my list of kind things people have said to me.

We exchanged phone numbers. Now we're friends and she's told me we're going to exchange cat photos.

My mom in the car told me I kept good time on the bells and asked why I never went into percussion. The drums were too loud, but she said since I'll be heading to college soon, I might be able to play the bells there. I hope so. I adore Bella. I even collect them, old vintage dinner bells and normal bells and bells a ringing!

I gave what money was in my bag to the man running the event, I hope he can keep it open. I'll be wanting to come back every year I can from now on.

This is the cat, the store, the sign, and blurry pictures of some pretty Christmas lights I passed.

I love Christmas.

[sevensided]

never wanted love, just a fancy car

Tom has his suit jacket slung over one shoulder and swaggers like a matador. Big dick energy. Then he catches Kendall’s eye and cringes into an affectionate, apologetic smile, and Kendall wonders just who Tom is, this ultra-cool arriviste with the Dionysian mask.

Or: the Tomken White Lotus AU that no one asked for.

AO3 Link / Spotify playlist

[ezlebe]

prompt: rule 63 tomgreg?

Greg watches Tommy bully around the designer, or owner, or whatever he is, with a dubious slant to her mouth. She had sort of awkwardly mumbled a question to Shiv about Kendall’s birthday – what should I wear? – not expecting a lot, maybe to be coldly told not to try too hard, after everything else she’s paid for in the appearances sense, recently, but… instead, Shiv had called Tommy, for sure just because she’s tall, who Greg hasn’t really been alone with a lot in any capacity.

She’s been around her, for sure – Tommy is around in general. She had sort of been from the beginning when Logan died, because she is some… quote unquote friend of Shiv’s, and had sort of been when Kendall accepted money for a bad bank thing, because she also works as some corporate mercenary for Stewy Hosseini, and is sometimes around at like galas and parties, but other than that…

Like. Mostly, the first impression hadn’t been… It was a bit divisive, one might say, if they were Greg.

Tommy had made a joke that had seemed like pretty badly off-color, involving kissing and kinky boots, something like that, which had made Greg feel seen through and about half a meter tall, but… by the third time they saw each other, she realized that Tommy had no idea what she had said to her and probably didn't to anyone a lot of the time. It didn't exactly excuse it, but how she wasn’t pointedly nasty, really, not in that way sort of did; she always wandered over whenever they were at the same place to try to get Greg involved in whatever her cousins had dragged them both into, or to just gossip with her, or now she’s started to jokingly, like probably, ask Greg if she’s tired of being the assistant to Kendall’s assistant yet.

Greg hasn’t ever asked about what Tommy might’ve really meant that first misunderstood conversation; she has somewhat put it down between Tommy just being generally cringy, most likely, or honestly hitting on her in the worst way, because it is kind of like what she wants to imagine, nowadays? Tommy is like a real life mythical Amazon – really pretty, and really big, and really touchy, so Greg is like really comfortable in making it not really her own fault and just like a natural progression. She can even point to Shiv as a fellow victim of the influence.

She mostly has been able to keep that packed in behind her imagination, before now; she hasn’t even seen Tommy in a while, not in the social sense, and not counting since Stewy brought her with Sandi Furness to sneer at the shareholder meeting and they’d barely been in the same room.

“Are you like, um…” Greg says, lifting her hand and sweeping a piece of loose hair from her braid back behind her ear. “Going with Shiv… to Kendall’s thing?”

“If I were, it would be in a purely platonic capacity,” Tommy says, yanking a shirt off of a rack with a narrow look and a shake out of non-existent wrinkles. “I don’t out people.”

Greg wets her lips with a bob of her head.

“But also actually very platonic,” Tommy says, voice flattening, reaching out and considering a dress, low cut and strappy, so hopefully not something she’s actually thinking to put on Greg. “I believe she is in some throuple situation with that… reincarnated spirit of a used car salesman, Sofrelli.”

Greg lifts a hand and lightly scratches at her upper lip with her thumb. “That’s sort of outing her.”

Tommy rolls her eyes over her shoulder, mouth flattening, “You don’t know who the third is.”

“Probably his wife,” Greg says, raising her brows with a slight tilt to her head. “Yeah?”

Tommy doesn’t answer beyond looking back down with a couple of low tuts.

Greg steps a little closer, as she takes off her jacket and folds it over her arm. She reaches out and touches at one of the shinier dresses, feeling it give cool against her fingers, and wonders if she could be a woman who wears silver silk, glimmering under club lights, or if… she should stick to a neutral. Or a pattern? She does enjoy a good pattern, but there aren’t any she can see in the selection.

“They look great, by the way,” Tommy says, voice thinning and pitching, while drawing out another dress and gesturing for the stylist to bring out the next rack with a wag of it. “In case anyone hasn’t said.”

Greg blinks wide, brow knitting above her eyes. “Um, what?”

“Your tits, to be a totally crass fuck,” Tommy says, turning and framing her own bosom with a pair of lifted palms, then pointing at Greg’s chest. “I assume two of the reasons you asked Shiv about designer dresses for this shindig, rather than your usual modest schoolteacher getup?”

“Oh… oh,” Greg intones, only barely managing to ignore an urge to look down, as heat flares across her cheeks; no, no one really has said so, and seem mostly to pretend nothing changed. She’s part of the problem, though – it’s been months, but she’s still not quite used to them being much more than just impression and a good bra. “Yeah, uh… Thanks. Roman was, um – was the only one who really like addressed it? He said I should’ve done more of a porn star thing.”

Tommy makes a pinched face, shaking her head with a suck at her teeth. “That is... actually really unsurprising.”

“I’m really happy with, like… what I chose, though,” Greg says, swallowing thickly and trying not to let herself feel too affirmed… by Tommy, of all people. It had just been something she had agonized back and forth on for as long as she can remember; if it was worth doing at all, or just stick with what she had, while imagining what would look right – what would look great.

She rubs her palms together, then shoves them under her arms, trying to instead distract herself with the dresses that Tommy’s got piling on the bench. It’s a lot more color than the prior racks – she kind of actually really likes the darker orange. And the green. She probably shouldn’t try both at once, or like she might just look like a… a pumpkin, or something.

“Less back problems, trust me,” Tommy says, belatedly around a cough. A hand lifts to cup against her chin, as she rounds a rack of markedly fancier dresses with a tilted head. “How short are you willing to go with your skirt?”

“Uh,” Greg says, dragging her teeth along her lower lip with another glance down at herself. “I don’t usually go very – ”

“Like an Old Believer, I know,” Tommy says, eyes rolling, as she looks up with a quirk of a brow. “I’ve seen. It’s very cute, very flowy, but are you attached to that?”

“Kind of?” Greg says, rubbing at the back of her neck with a slight hunch.

“Oh, fine,” Tommy says, throwing her hands up, then out, sweeping her palms away from each other. “And up top, then – low cut, allowed, but is the public permitted to see your shoulders?”

“I guess… if it’s lacy, or something,” Greg says, drawing her hand back to rub now at one of her button-up-covered shoulders. “Maybe?”

Tommy claps her hands onto her hips. “Stu!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stu says, stepping forward from just near the door.

“How long would it take to tailor a six and a half foot wedding dress for Miss Hirsch?”

Greg makes a noise of protest. “A wedding – ?”

Tommy rounds on Greg with those open arms. “That is what you just described!”

“Is it – um?” Greg says, rolling her lips together, then tilting her head with a weak shrug. “Not if it’s a color? I like that orange.”

“Oh, she likes that orange,” Tommy repeats in a taunt, reaching out and picking the dress up with a tut. She looks at Greg, then down at the dress, shaking it out to hold up to her front; she seems to notice it is lacking other qualifications, but her brow furrows in thought. “It does suit you…” She looks toward Stu, shooing him, “Get us everything close to this color.”

~

Greg lingers at the entrance of the venue, checking her phone, and looks up at familiar voices to see Shiv and Roman, then more importantly Tommy, who’s peering dubiously up at the pink tunnel that touches her head. She’s in the navy mermaid dress that Greg had seen her put aside a week ago, but hadn’t given any hint how it would make her look so comely, and her short hair neatly swept close to the side of her head with an elaborate pin. Greg is vaguely aware of some comment from Roman to the nurse-hostess, but barely hears it, instead focusing on the way Tommy immediately marches toward her when they make eye contact.

“Holy moly, look at those eyes,” Tommy greets, peering up at Greg over one of the hospital bassinets, then rounding it with her hands drifting up in a way that is probably not supposed to be sort of threatening. “Who did your makeup?”

Greg feels heat crawl up to her ears. “I-I did?”

“You did?” Tommy says, eyes glancing twice more across Greg’s face with a different sort of assessment. She reaches out further, clapping her hands on Greg’s biceps. “You look like an autumn princess – take my arm, tonight I am your winter knight.”

“You look really nice, too,” Greg says, hesitantly grabbing at Tommy’s elbow, slipping her fingers around the offered crook; her arms are bare, skin soft and warm.

“Thank you, girlie, I couldn’t let you show me up,” Tommy says, as she gestures down at her dress with a sweep of her other hand and a sidelong wink. “I like that it looks like a stripper version of a power suit – I mean, look at my girls, they look perky as they did in college! You would almost think I’ve got a rack better than Shiv’s.”

Greg slowly furrows her brow, taking advantage of the permission to look down and admire. “You like do?”

Tommy looks shocked for a beat, making Greg hurriedly look away, but then bursts into a huffy snort. “Thank you for that ego boost, but methinks you don’t notice because she’s your cousin.”

Greg offers a shrug, but she doubts it.

Tommy leans into Greg’s arm, fingers sweeping up against her curved knuckles, as they walk deeper into the party. “I didn’t know you knew how to do more makeup than that faux au naturale you always have on.”

“I, uh – I used to practice a lot,” Greg admits, hearing her voice briefly weaken, looking down at the shiny floor passing under their feet. “Like, when I was younger. It was easy to take off, you know, an-and my mom never noticed.”

“Ah, and now you’re an expert,” Tom says, patting at her fingers, leaning briefly even heavier into her side with a pitchy bark. “I’m terrible with it; I always go to a professional for these things.”

Greg glances over, sweeping her eyes from Tom’s vague smoky eye to barely-lined lips. “You do?”

“I used to,” Tommy says, brightly, winking with a taunting sort of smile. “Now I know I can make you do – ” She comes to an abrupt stop, gawking through an open doorway on the other side of Greg. “Oh, Jesus… Is that a fucking crib?”

Greg looks over her shoulder in the same direction. The room is… set up like a nursery, but if it had inside a crib that was… bigger than adult size, even bigger than like Greg-adult size, with a bottle and stuffed animals to match. “Uh, um… y-yeah?”

“You’re related to this man,” Tommy says, flattening her voice into a stern, quiet seriousness, as if this is now an interview for like maybe Dateline. “How does that make you feel, Ms Hirsch?”

“Like, um…” Greg takes a breath. “He isn’t over the death of his father?”

Tommy is silent a beat, then sucks at her teeth. “That is way too far down the rabbit hole for me. You were supposed to say he’s too bizarre to function.”

“He’s always been nice to me.”

Tommy scoffs against the back of her throat. “I’m not sure that’s a good metric.”

Greg offers a thin hum, looking over to Tommy, who is arguably in the same category of a bit weird, for sure, but generally good. “It’s been okay, so far?”

“Oh, come on,” Tommy says, rolling her eyes, but somewhat abashed about it, so likely catching onto the implication. “Let’s try to find the exit to this Freudian nightmare and find a drink… that I hope isn’t dressed up in fucking juice boxes and milk cartons.”

Greg wonders if Tommy missed the swaddled champagne bottles at the entrance.

It takes far too long for Greg, between mocking Kendall’s choices and picking up party favors, to realize that Tommy is sort of acting like this is a date; she thinks, anyway, she hasn’t been on a date in a really long time, but it feels like it. She swallows her nerves and risks a grab for Tommy’s hand, at her next chance, as they turn a bend within the aptly named compliment tunnel. The whole setup visibly puts Tommy on edge, looking at every cheerful deliverer of a compliment through the decorated trestles with sneering suspicion, but Greg sort of likes getting told that she’s great – even if it’s just a weird party game.

Tommy doesn’t shake her hand off, though, which is even better. She actually tightens her grip, shifting her fingers to thread them through Greg’s clammy ones, as they slowly approach a roar and thump of music at the center of the party. She does let her go, as they pick up drinks at a bar along the length of the wall, head bobbing to the beat of the music, but she heavily leans into Greg’s side.

“Do you dance, Greg?” Tommy asks, her drink half gone, looking over with a slight cock of her chin.

Greg feels her expression twist and fold, glancing away from the bar toward the dance floor. “Not, like… really?”

“Too bad!” Tommy crows, as she puts her drink down, then reaches out with the same hand to wrap tight around Greg’s wrist in a tug. “Just think: you can’t embarrass yourself more tonight than the birthday boy.”

Greg bites at her lip and manages a weak shrug, as she’s yanked along into the shifting throng of other guests. She thinks she sees Shiv going a little nuts, a few meters off, but is promptly distracted from that when Tommy grabs at her waist and drags her into a sort of dance that… kind of lacks any rhythm. It definitely seems like Tommy doesn’t really dance, either, though it looks really good on her, but really, by this point in the night, Greg can admit that she might be biased.

The song shifts from on the stage to one at a slower pace, making Greg’s ears burn, as Tommy looks up at her with a slow blink and a smirk. It’s definitely a, like – yeah, she has stumbled into a date.

Tommy shifts forward, groping along Greg’s lower back, then sliding her hands up, and she’s nearly as tall as her with tonight’s choice of heels.

Greg does her best to answer the broadcasted kiss in earnest, worrying a little that it’s too dry, nose bumping in the wrong places, but Tommy doesn’t seem to realize it. She’s actually just grabbing at Greg more, tugging her in so she’s pressed all the way up along her body while they move with the music.

“I’m really glad Shiv called me,” Tommy says, grinning up into Greg’s face, fingers sweeping over her ears and down into her hair. “You look so hot on this dress I chose, you really do, but I’m fucking ecstatic I could get to take it off.”

Greg chokes a little on an agreeable hum, nodding with a hard drop of her head.

Tommy leans in for another kiss, a hand still wrapped at Greg’s jaw while the other roves down her body, then around to grip at her ass. The music drops into a heavier beat, surrounding them with heady, throbbing bass, and she grinds against Greg, thighs strong and thick, foot slotting against Greg’s instep, using a moment of shock to slip her tongue into her mouth.

It a little difficult for Greg to keep up with, mostly because she is so unfamiliar with this sort of club-esque writhing to the music. She lets a bit loose to grope her hands against Tommy’s ribs, holding her close and copping her own feel with a curve of a palm around a rounded breast and brushing a thumb down exposed cleavage. She flushes worse when Tommy moans approval against her lips, head tilting and tongue sweeping along the inside of Greg’s lip. It’s lewd and insinuating, making Greg burn with a startling want, arousal bolting to her groin, and she can’t help her own moan, loud enough, it seems, to earn an evident laugh against her lips.

The song jerks abruptly to a stop, and Greg is near panting, one hand having found it’s way to curl into Tommy’s palm and feel the soft thud of her pulse. She thinks Tommy looks breathless, too, but not in anyway that seems as embarrassing, but actually more attractive; her brow sweaty and her hair threatening to loosen over an ear.

A mumble comes from the stage that Greg only half hears, followed by a click and whine of speakers. The voice that replaces it is nothing like the previous performer, instead it is low, masculine, and horribly familiar.

“Oh my god,” Tommy says, voice pitching, turning tragically away from Greg to stare up at the stage.

Greg watches as Kendall begins to move up and down, attached to some apparatus, and between this and kissing Tommy, she’s no longer sure she’s awake. “Where… where do I know this song?”

“It’s Billy Joel,” Tommy says, lifting a hand to cover her mouth, theatrically aghast, wobbling backward on her heels into Greg’s arms. “He’s singing Billy Joel to himself for his birthday.”

“He, um – ” Greg manages, watching Kendall’s performance on stage; his voice isn’t bad, but the whole thing… is definitely still the CEO of Waystar Royco suffering some weird breakdown about having no closure with his dead dad. “He is sort of too bizarre to function…”

“Thank you, girlie,” Tommy says, glancing over with a quick bark of laughter, though the humor fades again into disbelief when she looks back at Kendall on stage. “I feel like I’m some lobster stuck in a pot while the cook croons above me.”

Greg huffs and shifts her palm to fully fold her fingers in Tommy’s against her hip. She hasn’t managed to say it, but she’s really glad she asked Shiv about dresses, too.

[good-realtor-bad-realtor-dynamic]

Living+ and That Gleam in Kendall's eye

Succession 4x6. Why does almost every new episode this season end with me feeling both sick to my stomach and buzzed to all hell? My hands are still trembling.

I have so much to say!

About Kendall and Roman watching their dead father insult them on videos played on loop whether real or edited, Shiv finally confronting her brothers like I always wanted her to instead of bottling up her hurt over their betrayal, the cheapening of the siblings' hug as everything "real" becomes repackaged as a negotiating tactic, ...

... Roman's spiralling grief and insecurity manifesting as he pushes people away and carelessly fires any woman who appears to question him and his place as Logan's son, Gerri noticing something off and giving him a reality check only for him to turn on her so viciously, ...

... the rekindling of Tom and Shiv's unconventional romance when they play "bitey", tease one another and she lets him in with Matsson, Tom's greatest strength being his honesty and his ability to show vulnerability in admitting that the money does matter to him but also calling her out in the process, ...

... Ken's event-planning fact-fudging number-cooking night of chaos and Hollywood mania, his businessbro techspeak jargon at an all-time high, Karl confronting him and trying to straighten him out with a dose of reality, only for Kendall in his Maverick-from-Top-Gun-inspired flight jacket to brush him off, unphased, ...

But I just have to talk about IT.

The gleam in Kendall's eyes.

Kendall's presentation was somehow more harrowing, more painful, more ridiculous and just all-round worse than L to the OG.

The sincerity with which he lays himself bare before the world — "big shoes, big big shoes, big big shoes" big nervous breakdown — the palpable second-hand embarrassment from watching him try to talk to an edited deepfaked video of his father to gain some kind of closure after death — the sickening nature of enterprises like Living+ which take advantage of people's fear of their own mortality and prey on the elderly — the horrifying realization that creeps up on you as you realize while watching this play out, that Ken is exploiting and commodifying his grief and confusion over his father's death, his vulnerability and fragility here functioning as manipulation, as a marketing tactic, whether he knows it or not — all as the world watching him (incredibly) applauds his stark raving mad proposal because nothing is ever sacred to these people.

It's the funniest and worst thing all at once.

And somehow — and this really says something about the state of the world — when these cringe billionaires hopped up on their own hype, hallucinations and delusions of grandeur, especially the ones in tech, make outlandish promises even a child would know better than to take seriously, the world feeds their egos, cheers their cults of personality and allows them to get away with anything because they're not insane! They're just eccentric visionaries, maybe even geniuses. It's genuinely frightening.

Hey, but at the very least, when Number 1 Boy walks into the ocean, an image that had my heart leap into my throat and fill with foreboding, he's floating up with his head facing the sky.

(When this new high inevitably fades, he will definitely sink, and I can't bear to watch it.)

And yeah, of course Lukas Matsson tweets disgusting Holocaust "jokes". Fuck him.

Oh, and was I the only one who thought I might have been watching behind-the-scenes footage or a special feature by accident when the episode first came on with Logan Roy against a green screen? I really though it was just Brian Cox for a second there and thought HBO had fucked up!

[strangesmallbard]

real events from succession 4x04:

kendall buys a hyacinth macaw and develops an unhealthy emotional attachment so the bird just stays on his shoulder during business meetings. there’s a big poop stain on his jacket the whole ep. (don’t worry a parrot rescue org swoops in)

shiv plays stardew valley for 16 hours straight and completes the jojomart path

greg starts a tiktok account. he quickly gets a huge following on account of being tall. karolina gets him shut down a week later bc he says logan’s full social security number on live (he got a phone call from tom who’s coordinating with the mortuary and forgot to stop the live)

gerri and roman fuck

[nadja-antipaxos]

CAN’T MAKE YOU HAPPIER NOW - EIGHT - FINAL CHAPTER

Previously - Seven || Masterlist

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:  Swearing, depression, possible suicide attempt briefly referenced and talked about, talk of childbirth and children, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, kissing, mentions of child abuse, manslaughter, drug use, smoking

Note: Last chapter, everyone. Depending on how season 4 goes I might pick this baby back up. I don't know but as of now, the story is over. Thank you a million times a million to everyone who read this, left kudos, and comments. Please let me know how you enjoyed the final chapter. Covers episodes 3x07-3x09. Page Six graphic made by me with my template

Word Count: 6,364

Kendall looks over at Naomi’s sleeping body next to him. He’s nursing a hangover. He doesn’t really remember going out. Naomi found out his divorce was finalized and dragged him out with her friends. They change so often that he doesn’t know their names. He grabs his phone and sees multiple notifications with the same headline from Page Six.

NISHA ASURI-ROY IS A FREE AGENT! Newly divorced socialite hits NYC with famous friends and new boyfriend!

The photo under the headline is of Nisha looking gorgeous at an event with little cutouts of Velasco and Ryan Sutton, the tech dynamo, who is much more beautiful than he remembered. Once he signed, it didn’t take long for their divorce to be finalized. They must’ve taken her out. Velasco has his arm around her shoulder in one photo. In another, he’s next to her while Ryan Sutton and Nisha share a drink. She looks happy in the photos with them. He sighs and puts the phone back on the nightstand and drags the duvet over his head. Maybe he can spend most of the day in bed. His birthday party isn’t until tomorrow anyway.

The big night arrives with such fanfare it should be on MTV’s Sweet Sixteen if they still made them. The Notorious Ken Ready to Die Party. Ryan’s big hazel eyes look over at Nisha who just shakes her head. Ryan has on a navy suit with a floral blouse while Nisha wears a red and black sheer bustier with a black suit. Siblings Roy, Willa, and Tom are just leaving the lobby when they walk in. A pretty woman tells them to hand over coats and phones.

“I’m not giving you my phone,” Nisha tells her. 

“Well, Kendall—”

“I’m the mother of his kids and since he’s busy doing whatever the fuck this is—one of us has to check on them.”

“Okay.” She looks surprised at her blunt honesty.

Nisha hands over a gift with rabbit wrapping paper.

“This is from them, Kendall’s children, so please put it somewhere safe.”

“We will.”

“Thank you.”

After the horrifying ordeal of traveling Caroline’s vaginal canal, Nisha greets Roman and Shiv. Kendall’s name is everywhere in varying levels of embarrassing extravagance.

“Ryan Sutton?” Roman traces a circle with his finger.

“Yep.” She slides a hand into her suit pocket opening the tailored jacket.

“Hmm.” He doesn’t say anything else.

“Nice to meet you. Shiv Roy.” Shiv and Ryan shake hands.

“You too.” Ryan nods.

“You look…amazing. Almost like you shed a bunch of Kendall-sized dead weight, the former Mrs. Roy.” Shiv laughs and gives her a hug.

“Basically.” Nisha shrugs when she pulls away. “We’re gonna keep touring this nightmare.”

“Enjoy. I’ll see you, yeah?”

“I”m sure.” Nisha smiles. 

There’s a room that is just screens with fire on them, tons of pictures of Kendall everywhere (clearly some he recently posed for), a compliment tunnel, his childhood treehouse, and a weird exhibit with terrible trying too hard to be satirical futuristic headlines.

“Thank you so much for inviting me to this party because it’s the most mental thing I’ve ever been to. And really the perfect way to get to know your ex.”

“I really had no idea it would be so Kendall.” Nisha’s stunned at just how awful it all is.

“Aww, you didn’t get a fake magazine cover.” Ryan comes up behind her and slips her arms round Nisha’s middle.

“It’s better that way. Trust me.” Nisha laughs. 

They keep walking through this asshole museum to the bar and Kendall waves at her. She nods. He moves through the crowd and smiles at her.

“You made it.” He goes for a hug and she awkwardly pats him on the back.

“Happy Birthday, Kendall.” Nisha pulls back. “This is Ryan Sutton. My plus one.”

Ryan steps forward. In her heels, she’s taller than him. She smiles and keeps her hands in her suit pockets. Kendall is a little stunned at her natural confidence. She oozes self-assuredness. This is someone who knows exactly who they are.

“Happy Birthday, Kendall. It was a real treat walking through your mother’s vagina.” She speaks with a McCartney-esque accent. He wonders if Tom or Greg has met her. They would lose their shit over her…everything. 

“Thanks. We wanted it to be funny.” He nods. 

“It’s genuinely the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” Ryan laughs. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want something?”

“Vodka soda, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then get me one of those. Thanks.”

“No problem, babe.”

Kendall watches her walk away and turns back to Nisha.

“Boyfriend busy?”

“He’s not my boyfriend. You shouldn’t believe everything you read.”

Kendall vividly remembers him going down on her in what used to be their bedroom.

“Booty call on speed dial?”

“We’re friends who have sex. That’s it.” 

“Got a new BFF I see.”

“She’s amazing.”

“So I hear. No new guy either?”

“New guy?”

“Sophie mentioned him. Rob? Russ? Something. He made pancakes that looked like a cat?”

Nisha shakes her head. That was Ryan. Of course, Kendall doesn’t actually pay attention to their children. “I don’t have a new guy.”

“So our daughter’s a liar?”

“I didn’t say that. Did you get the present? From the kids?”

“…No.”

“Medium-sized box. Rabbits on the paper. They’re green?”

“I’ll, um, I’ll ask. I’m sure they have it.”

“Okay…”

“Look, my dad offered to buy me out.”

“Oh.”

“Think I should take it?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. Don’t need to think about it?”

“Yes. Get out immediately. Maybe if you do, he won’t involve the kids in your shit anymore.”

‘What?”

“W-What? No. No. That’s not—I’ll do something. I’ll fix it.”

“He was spying on them at the park. Send some idiot to question Bianca.”

“Don’t bother. Already handled it. Just thought you should know.”

“Um, yeah, thanks.”

“Enjoy your birthday, Ken.”

Ryan hands her a drink and as they walk away she puts her hand right above Nisha’s ass.

“Do you think he’d be mad if I ate you out in his boyhood treehouse?” Ryan leans over. 

“You’re so naughty.” Nisha giggles. He knows that sound all too well. They’re flirting.

Ryan is the new guy? Is that why they’re always together? The double makeup and skincare in the bathroom suddenly make more sense. But Nisha’s not—she’s never shown any interest—she didn’t even try in college. That—that can’t be. Ryan pulls her out onto the dance floor. It starts off fine until Ryan bends down and kisses her. His heart pounds in his chest as heat spreads down from the back of his neck. He feels lightheaded. Naomi repeats his name and he forces himself to look at her. He lets her take his hand and lead him away.

A few drinks later (maybe a little more), Ryan has Nisha pinned against the wall of a very fancy bathroom stall. Her hand is in her pants while her mouth devours hers. Nisha can’t believe she’s letting herself get fucked in a bathroom at a party like she’s 20 again. At her ex-husband’s birthday no less. But Ryan’s fingers are too long and too good for her to care. She bites her lip as her body shudders. Ryan gives her a sloppy kiss and withdraws her fingers. She grins before placing them in her mouth. They stagger out of the bathroom and mix back into the crowd.

After trying to keep his parasitic siblings from the treehouse, Kendall walks past Ryan and stops when he realizes. He doesn’t see Nisha around. It’s just her. She truly is one of the most naturally beautiful women he’s ever met, besides Nisha. Big eyes. Pouty lips. Gold hair. She’s incredibly fit too. He can see that from how the tailored suit hangs on her. He just can’t believe a woman he’s known almost half his life is suddenly playing for another team. 

“So, is this the part where you tell me to stay away from your girlfriend?” He asks, unable to help himself. He wants to pick a fight with someone. It might as well be her.

“No.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m 26. I’m not 15. Besides, you’re doing a bang-up job on your own.”

“The fuck does that mean?” He glares at her but she doesn’t take the bait. She stays cool.

“Just chill out and enjoy your party.” Ryan shakes her head and walks away.

“Does it bug you?” Roman’s voice is in his ear.

“What?” Kendall snaps.

“That you were such a shitty husband you turned Nisha into a lesbian.” Roman shrugs.

“She’s not a lesbian.” Kendall sighs.

“Okay, not like The L Word lesbian but they’re definitely bumping tacos. Bet she’s a better fuck than you. Probably doesn’t cry after.” Roman giggles.

“Shut the fuck up, Rome.” Kendall storms off. He wants to find his present from the kids.

It feels like they’ve been there all night when Nisha agrees to leave. She hasn’t seen Kendall in a long time which is odd. He should be eating all this attention up. She looks in every room even the big one that has all the gifts. The boxes are destroyed and staff are scrambling to pick them up. Something is really wrong. She finds Ryan and explains. 

“I’ll meet you back at my place. I-I wanna confirm he got that present from the kids or I’ll never hear the end of it.” She feels strange telling Ryan she’s worried about Kendall. 

“Yeah, sure.” Ryan nods. “See you in a few.”

“Mhmm.”

They share a kiss before she leaves. 

It takes some tracking down but Kendall did not receive the gift. It ended up in a completely different room, so Nisha decides to deliver it. She takes a cab to his apartment and the doorman lets her up. She knocks and Naomi answers.

“Hey.”

“Hi?”

Nisha puts the present in front of her.

“Oh, shit.” Naomi reaches for it but Nisha pulls it back.

“Can I see him?”

“It’s been a long night. I think—”

“Naysayers , who is it?” Kendall’s voice asks. Moments later, he’s at the door. “Nish.”

He practically pulls her inside to Naomi’s visible displeasure. She shows him the present and relief washes over his face. He looks awful. He hugs her so tight it knocks the breath out of her. What is going on? She knows this isn’t just drugs or booze. She’s alarmed now. Naomi just watches them.

“Hey, um, can we get a minute?” Nisha asks, pulling back from Kendall.

Naomi looks at Kendall but he nods before she can answer.

“Sure…” Naomi looks at him strangely before going out on the balcony. 

Kendall leads Nisha into the kitchen and doesn’t let go of her.

“You wanna open it?” Nisha asks, gesturing to the present.

Kendall tears the paper and lifts the lid. It’s a large painting. An actual oil painting.

“Sophie’s been taking this art class and she’s really good. Iverson came up with the idea and did the background. She did everything else.”

Tears flood his vision as he takes in the painting of him and his children. They’re superheroes. He can’t hold it back and just sobs. Nisha rushes to him and sets the painting down on the counter. She wraps her arms around him and he cries into her shoulder. She doesn’t know what happened but it makes her heart ache. She rubs his back. 

“Deep breaths, Ken. Deep breaths.” She whispers. 

He sniffles and inhales sharply. He doesn’t want to let her go and she doesn’t move. 

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“I don’t know, Nish.”

“It will.” She squeezes his shoulder and steps back.

“I never thought my 40th would be like this, you know?”

“That’s cause I would’ve planned it. Like your 30th but better.”

“I woulda liked to have seen that.” Kendall chuckles dryly. A party when he actually had people that cared about him. Someone who loved him. 

Nisha blinks back tears of her own. She thought the party was showy and embarrassing but now she gets it. He’s so alone. He’s never been more alone. No one at that party was there for him. To celebrate him. It was all a show. She wants to say something but she hears the sliding door close.

“Ken? Can I talk to you?” Naomi asks, not hiding the edge in her voice.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Just—um, can you wait here?” Kendall asks, lifting his eyebrows. She hasn’t seen that look in a long time. She just nods. 

He goes out to the balcony and the door is barely closed before she hears shouting. She isn’t really listening and she can’t really make it out. All she hears is “Present from my fucking kids”. She admits she’s amused at how much of a threat she is. They’re not even married anymore and she really did want him to get the gift. 

The door shuts again and Kendall walks over. Naomi is lingering by the door.

“I’ve gotta go.”

‘Yeah?”

“It is late,” Naomi adds.

“Lemme walk you out, okay?” Kendall puts his hand on her shoulder. Naomi sighs audibly.

Nisha just waves and lets Kendall guide her to the hall. 

“Get some rest, Ken.” She touches his cheek in spite of herself. He closes his eyes briefly and her heart hurts. “But…”

His eyes widen. He’s hanging on her every word.

“I wanna see you tomorrow. Lunch?” She wants to cry at how his face brightens.

“Yeah? Yeah, yeah. I’d like that.” He looks like he wants to smile but he doesn’t.

“Okay, I’ll text you.” She hugs him. “Happy Birthday, Ken.”

He lets out a shuddery breath. “Thanks, Nish. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nisha steps back and begins to walk off to the elevator but stops to look back at him. All the light is gone in his eyes and his shoulders are slumped. He’s collapsing into himself. She never wanted this.

At lunch, Kendall looks more awake but no less ashen. The circles under his eyes are even more prominent. He barely looks at the menu and just orders a random special. Nisha orders a salad but barely touches it. He leans forward.

“You still worried? About me?”

“Always.”

He squints, suspicious at her sudden affection. She offers up an open palm on the table which he takes.

“Kendall, you’re the father of my children.” She takes a deep breath. “We made those two remarkable kids. I can’t just stop caring about you. It’s not a fucking switch. As much as I want there to be, sometimes.”

Kendall tries to swallow down the lump in his throat but it stays. He blinks back the tears. 

“I-I didn’t really have a dad and I don’t want that for Sophie and Iverson. I don’t.” Her voice cracks and her big brown eyes are glistening with tears. She never brings up her father. 

“I don’t want that either.” Kendall squeezes her hand. 

They just sit there for a moment trying not to cry. They haven’t talked like this in so long it’s hard to remember how. Neither of them is angry or trying to hurt each other. He’s not drunk on a new angle or scheme and she’s not bitter. 

“You really think I should take the buyout?”

“Yes, Ken. Get away from him. He’s poison.”

He isn’t surprised when she agrees to let him drop her home. He has the feeling she doesn’t want to leave yet either. What does surprise him is how she holds him in the backseat. Such a familiar thing. She’s done this so many times. She lets go and turns to face him. She clutches his arms and he rests his forehead on hers. They’re breathing heavily. 

“Nisha…” He’s breathing her air. She can feel it fan across her face. 

“Kendall…” She’s trembling as his hand brushes the hair away from her cheek. 

“I—”

“W-We can’t.” 

His head dips to her shoulder and he noses the side of her neck. She sighs.

He’s so numb. He can’t feel it like he used to but it’s still there. Trying to break through. Like he’s almost human again. Her thumbs brush his upper arms soothing him. One hand breaks free to rub his back. He just wants her to hold him and never let go. The car comes to a stop and she pulls away.

“I can’t—I’m sorry, Ken. I gotta go.” She bolts out of the car before he can see the tears fall.

Kendall sighs, tipping forward until his face is on the seat. 

He doesn’t see her again until she hands off the kids for his mother’s sudden wedding. She had a trip planned to Italy for the summer anyway. She even invited her mother and stepfather since they’ve never been to Italy and have been so supportive during all of this. Since Kendall wouldn’t pass a drug test, they agreed it was best that he have a day with them on his own before she flies in to stay nearby. He didn’t protest. It doesn’t seem to be his thing these days. Even Ryan made a comment about how she should be there for Sophie and Iverson. The kids give her hugs and pile into the SUV to go to the airport.

Kendall gets out of the car and greets her with a newly shaved head. He’s never had a buzzcut before. She doesn’t know what to say. She just points. 

“New look.”

“Mmm.”

“Ryan, uh, joining you?”

“No. She’s busy. Naomi?”

“That’s over.”

“I, um, appreciate you not telling the press about me and Ryan. I know Logan would jump all over it.”

“It’s your business.”

“Thank you.”

Kendall simply nods. It’s like a strong gust of wind would blow him away.

“Ken?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you make it harder? The divorce? You could’ve. My lawyers even expected it.”

Kendall shrugs.

“I’ve kept you down long enough. Don’t you think?”

Nisha doesn’t hold back her gasp. She’s never heard him talk like this. It makes her uncomfortable and a little scared.

“See you in a few days.”

“Safe travels.”

Kendall nods and gets into the car.  Nisha just watches them leave, stunned.

The kids check in with Nisha regularly while they’re with him. Sophie tells her that they’re allowed at many of the wedding events but he’s not. Nisha’s glad they’re not on FaceTime so she doesn’t see her roll her eyes. Caroline is such a cunt.

“Are you having fun at least?”

“Not really.” 

“You guys okay?”

“Yeah. Just bored. Dad’s out in the pool.” 

“We miss you.” Iverson’s voice adds.

“You’re gonna see me soon. Nani and Arun are coming too.”

“They are?”

“Yeah, they said they’d take you sightseeing.”

“Cool.” 

“It’ll be okay, babies. Just tough it out a little longer, okay?”

“Okay.” Sophie sighs. “Love you.”

“Love you, Mom.” Iverson echoes.

“Love you both.”

What Nisha doesn’t know is that Kendall is drunk in the pool and nearly drowns. Comfrey, of all people, notices, and calls for help. Sophie takes Iverson by the hand and calls her mom immediately in another room. Nisha’s Italian is limited but she’s able to communicate to the doctors that she is his ex-wife. To her surprise, he still has her listed as his emergency contact, so she’s able to find out that he wasn’t unconscious long and it was a scare more than anything.  The doctors are concerned about his blood alcohol level and she agrees. She remembers how sad he’s been and wonders if on some level it wasn’t deliberate. Comfrey awkwardly hangs around until Nisha dismisses her. The employee seems glad that someone else is handling it. 

To her surprise, Logan offers to watch the kids or at the very least have the kids at his place. She doesn’t really have any options since her parents are flying in tomorrow, so she agrees. She waits in a chair for him to wake up while informing her family about what happened. 

Sophie is glad to know he’s okay. Nisha says they will be staying at her place for the rest of the trip and Iverson lights up about that. She hates how clearly the children prefer her over Kendall. She knows he did this to himself but she wishes they didn’t want to see him in only small doses.

Kendall blinks taking in the unfamiliar room. It’s so bright. His eyes land on a familiar face next to his bed.

“Nish?”

“Hey.” She stands up. “You’re in the hospital. You fell off an inflatable?”

“Oh.” Kendall doesn’t really remember that.

“The PR lady noticed and called then Sophie called me.”

“Where are the kids?”

“Not here. But they’re okay.”

“Oh. Good.” He waits a moment. “Who has them if you’re here?”

Nisha takes a deep breath.

“Logan.”

Kendall sits up making one of the machines beep loudly.

“What the fuck? Why?”

It’s been hours and Nisha is exhausted. She just bursts into tears. 

“I-I can’t do this all by myself, Ken.” She covers her face with her hands. “I don’t want them with him either but I had no other choice.”

Kendall sucks in a slow breath. He shouldn’t be yelling at her. She didn’t do this. Part of him wishes he hadn’t been saved. It would spare her so much pain. She wipes her eyes and looks at him. She’s clearly been sitting here a long time. Her eyes are tired and her clothes are crumpled.

“I’m still your emergency contact.”

“I know.”

“Really?”

“You’re the only one who gives a shit if something happens to me.” 

She proved that with the shooter at ATN. He looks down at his hands. His throat is dry.

“Can I get some—”He points to the water jug. She jumps up and pours some handing him the cup. “Thanks.”

Nisha moves closer to him. He pats the edge of the bed so she sits down. 

“Please don’t get mad.” She places her hand on his. “But I have to ask. They said you were really really drunk. Are you okay?”

Kendall doesn’t know what to tell her. That no matter how hard he tries he can never defeat his father.  That he’s defective. That he’s a killer that should be rotting in the earth. That if she really knew she would take their kids and never speak to him again. 

“No.” 

“I’m sorry to say this but you need help, Ken. It’s not good for the kids and it’s not good for you. I don’t know what’s going on but I know this won’t help.” She braces herself for his anger.

Kendall looks at her soft big brown eyes. Why does she still care about him? He’s done everything to drive her away. She’s not even his wife anymore. She doesn’t need him. She’s never needed him. The tears burn in his eyes and slip down his face before he can stop them. She leans over and wraps an arm around him. He pulls her closer and sobs. She’s never been so scared for him. 

Because there’s no proof it was an actual suicide attempt, Kendall is released and goes to grab Sophie and Iverson. Nisha talks with Shiv who wants to do an intervention. Nisha knows that isn’t a good idea. They’re the last people who should be leading it and she will have no part it in.

Instead, she takes the kids to a restaurant to try real pizza. Sophie doesn’t like it but Iverson does. They go back to her villa and swim in the pool. When she talks to Sophie about everything, she says she’s okay and can’t wait for her grandparents to come.  She really didn’t see much. Nisha decides she’s telling the truth and lets them play. She goes back in the house and sees Kendall at the front door.

“Hi.” She ushers him inside.

‘Hi. This okay?” Kendall asks.

“Yeah. They’re swimming.” She nods to their general direction.

“Oh. Cool. Good. They’re okay?”

“They didn’t see anything.”

“Uh-huh. Did, uh, Shiv tell you about the intervention?”

“She mentioned it. C’mon, let’s sit.” 

Kendall follows her to the kitchen and she gives him a glass of water before pouring one for herself. Her villa is nicer than his. It’s full of light and fresh flowers. He’s not surprised. Her very presence dazzles every room she’s in. She’s always known how to make things better.

“You didn’t wanna come?”

“No. Sounded…ill-advised.”

“That’s a word for it.” Kendall chuckles, dryly.

“Didn’t go well?”

“My siblings aren’t exactly Oprah.”

“Not exactly.”

Kendall looks her over. She has on a yellow sundress and no makeup but she looks gorgeous. She looks a lot more well-rested than yesterday. 

“Remember when Sophie was born?” He asks softly.

“First time I pushed out a human, yep. I remember it.” She nods.

“I was so scared on the ride to the hospital. Remember? I was shaking. And you had to comfort me.” Kendall shakes his head.

“I remember. It was pretty distracting.” She almost laughs. 

“Then it was over. Not even an hour and she was here.” He just stares at the island counter.

“She was ready.” Nisha tilts her head thoughtfully.

“But then with Iverson. You’d think I would’ve gotten used to it. But I was terrified and that time you couldn’t help me.” His brow furrows. 

“I was a little busy with the 48 hours of labor.” Nisha sighs. It was night and day compared to Sophie. Even though she wasn’t even thirty, it was like nothing worked. She just waited and waited in pain. He didn’t want to come out. 

“I remember talking to doctors about a C-section and they gave me the warnings and I thought what if I lose them both? And then Sophie ran over to me. She saw I was upset and she hugged my leg and said ‘Don’t be sad, Daddy. Mommy’s giving me a baby brother.’ I told her I was scared and she said ‘Mommy’s a tiger.’” Kendall blinks back the tears in his eyes.

“Yeah, she was really into the tiger story then,” Nisha remembers telling it three times in a row at bedtime. 

“You tell it to them when they’re scared.” Kendall looks up at her and grabs her hand. His thumb runs along the back of it. “You’re an amazing mom, Nisha. I’ve never doubted that for a second. You’ve never failed them. I just I know I’ve always known—you’re all they need.”

His words send an icy chill down her spine but before she can ask, he gives her a brief hug and then tells her he’s gonna say hi to them. She watches him walk outside. Her phone lights up on the island. It’s Ramesh.

“Hey. Ready to see Mom?”

“Yeah. It should be fun.”

“So, what’s up?” He must have an agenda.

“Uh, Ken is here. He’s outside with the kids.” She braces herself.

“Great.” 

“C’mon, it’s been a bit of a rough go.” She winces.

“Just don’t relapse.”

“He’s not heroin, Jesus.”

“He kinda is—to you.”

“Something is really going on, Ram. It’s bad.” She knows he hasn’t actually seen Kendall. Maybe then he’d know.

“It’s always bad. You need sole custody before it gets worse. He clearly doesn’t want to be a dad. So just let him fuck off. None of you need him. If he pulls the money, we have enough.” Here’s the agenda.

“Ram, that’s unfair. The kids need their dad.” She frowns. She couldn’t do that. Then he’d really end up dead.

“No, they don’t. Not this one. Besides, I love them like they’re my own and I don’t forget they exist.” He huffs.

“Okay, point made.” She sighs.

“I don’t mean to lecture you. It’s just this whole pool thing just shows me how much you don’t need him.”

“I see.”

“Nish, I just want the best for you and your kids. You got a good girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right. I’m just saying you have options now. Take them.”

“Okay. I hear you.”

“Thanks. I don’t—I love you, Nish.”

“I know. I love you too. I’ll have Mom call you when she’s here.”

Nisha knows her brother just wants to protect her but cutting Kendall off isn’t the answer. If he goes to rehab, maybe then he can turn it around. He’s done it before. She wants to give him another chance with his children. They’re over. She knows that. But he can still try for them. She’s not going to kick him while he’s down. She refuses.

Kendall takes the kids to the wedding but Sophie calls her during the reception. She can’t find him or Shiv or Roman. Nisha gets her driver and picks them up.

On the ride back to her villa, she calls Kendall. He answers and he sounds…excited. He says something is happening and he’s sorry about the kids but it’s serious shit. He promises he’ll tell her everything when it’s done but to trust him. They’re gonna overthrow Logan. Of course, those four words make absolutely no sense but they’re all she has to go on. 

Her parents have a nice late dinner with her. She’s always liked her stepdad. He really takes care of her mom. She deserves that, especially after everything. Kendall calls a few hours later and sounds…numb. He asks her to come to his villa. Her mom is understanding and watches the children, so she can go.

Nisha picks at her nails the whole ride over. Kendall is smoking outside when she arrives, so she walks up to him. She waves and he nods.

“Hey, so what’s—”

“Not here.” He stubs out his cigarette.

She feels like a live wire. All exposed and full of electricity. She doesn’t know what’s going on. She just follows him inside to the bedroom he’s been sleeping in where he shuts the door. It feels ominous. He sits with her on the chaise lounge.

Then he tells her. He tells her everything. About GoJo. The attempted coup. How Caroline betrayed them for an apartment for her new husband. Nisha doesn’t know how that’s legal. They’re adults now. The holding company would have paperwork with their adult signatures and neither parent could touch that. But Kendall doesn’t need her lawyering right now. 

“Logan really fucked you.” She’s stunned. “All of you.”

“You…you knew and I never listened.” Kendall sighs, skimming his hand over his shaved head. “Should’ve fucked him with the takeover three years ago.”

Nisha doesn’t know how to respond. She shifts in her seat. He’s ready to tell her. He told his siblings. Even if it changes how she sees him, he should tell her. He knows the world isn’t going to end. Or at least he hopes it doesn’t. He doesn’t want to look at her though. He looks at his hands instead. They’re shaking.

“Shiv’s wedding. I wanted to get high and Stewy wouldn’t give me any. I hitched a ride with a waiter who said he knew someone. I was driving and you know I don’t drive especially not manual. And I was drunk and high. Something happened. An animal or something. He grabbed the wheel and we…” Kendall takes a deep breath. “…went into the water. I got out. It sank and I couldn’t get him. I tried. I lost my keycard. My dad’s people found it. He said he’d take care of it if I left the buyout.” He psychs himself up and looks at her. She just looks shocked. She can’t believe it.

“I hate myself for it. Every day. And I understand if you hate me too. I don’t deserve you or our kids. It—I can’t escape it. No matter what I do. It’s why I ruin everything. I’m…rotten. I couldn’t even do a takeover when I had Shiv and Rome.”

Nisha inhales sharply as she takes in her ex-husband. That’s why he pushed her away. The answer she’s wanted for so long. Selling the apartment. The women. The drugs. The distance. Why he destroyed their marriage.

“Nisha?” His voice cracks. “Do—what do you think?”

Logan carried it over his head. Used it. Tried to get him to take the fall for Waystar. Thinking he was broken enough to give in. Nisha runs her finger over her lower lip in thought. She could’ve handled this for him. In a way that didn’t exploit him. That got him help. She should’ve known it all went back to Logan. She can’t even cry. She’s too angry.

“You know how I never talk about my father?” 

Kendall just nods. She wrings her hands together. No one knows this. Not anyone who wasn’t there.

“He beat us. Ram and I used to try to shield my mother but he’d toss us like rag dolls. The police didn’t do anything. Brown immigrant family. They didn’t care. My mom came home late from her night classes. He accused her of cheating. She ran up the stairs. He went after her and I grabbed his leg. I was six or seven. He kicked me and kicked me and kicked me. Ramesh came running just screaming. He shoved my dad and he hit every stair on the way down. When he landed, he wasn’t moving. He must’ve broken his neck. Ramesh said he slipped. The evidence said that he fell.  Once they saw my ribs, they figured he lost his footing trying to kick me and went back. What was one dead immigrant? Nothing.” She doesn’t wipe away her tears. She just lets them fall. 

Kendall doesn’t know what to say. It explains why her family is so close. Why Ramesh is so protective. He places his hand on hers. 

“You were kids. He was trying to help you. You didn’t mean to. You were just trying to survive.”

“I know you. You didn’t mean for that waiter to die.” She squeezes his shoulder with her other hand. “Sometimes fucked up shit happens. Doesn’t mean you deserve to die too.”

Kendall breaks down, falling forward into her chest. Nisha puts her arms around him, wrapping him up. He cries so hard he can’t breathe. 

“Breathe, Kendall. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. With me. Like me.” She inhales and exhales slowly. She feels his chest expand as he tries to imitate her. They stay like that for a long time. He has bouts of tears and she calms him back down. Neither wanting to let go. He finally pulls back and she nudges him down until his head is in her lap. Her nails move through his closely cropped hair and he closes his eyes. Her touch has always felt comforting. He’s missed it.

“It’s never been this short.” She comments.

“Had my own Mandan ceremony.”

“Mundun.”

“What?”

“Mundun.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” 

Her fingers run down the nape of his neck to his shoulder and back up. It makes him sigh. 

“You’ve shed your past life.” 

“We both have.” He opens his eyes and looks up at her.

She laughs, shaking her head. A real laugh.

“What?” He wants to smile at the sound.

“We’re finally talking and we’re divorced.”

“Maybe cause we don’t have anything to lose.”

“Maybe…” 

He’s silent again while she runs her hand down his back. It’s been such an emotional day. So awful. But this feels so nice. 

“If it’s really over…with my dad…then I wanna get clean.”

“Okay.”

“Going into it clear-headed.” He pauses and looks up at her. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” She raises her eyebrows and stills her hand.

“You loved me with no bullshit. You were loyal. And I took advantage of that. Of you.”

She chews her lower lip and nods. Her throat feels thick with emotion. 

“But you’re the only person…” Kendall sits up and she watches him. He takes her hand and holds it to his chest. “I’ve ever really loved.”

Nisha leans forward and rests her head against his. Kendall sucks in a shaky breath at her proximity. It doesn’t feel like it did in the car last week.  He doesn’t feel numb anymore. He can see in full, vivid technicolor for the first time in three years. All because of her. She lets go of his hand breathing heavily. His thumb brushes the apple of her cheek. He’s being so present and so sweet. He feels like Kendall for the first time in a long time. Her Kendall. 

Their lips ghost over one another’s. It’s barely a kiss. So much trepidation and uncertainty. They’ve both been through so much either from each other’s hands or others. Kendall waits. He doesn’t know what she wants and he can’t push it. So he waits.  Nisha surges forward and takes his face in her hands kissing him full on the mouth. Their hands intertwine when she deepens the kiss and he doesn’t let go.

Their eyes stay locked as they rock back and forth in his bed. Slow. Deliberate. Intimate. He’s breathing with her and their foreheads touch. Sweat glistens across their bodies in sheets. She gasps feeling the way his body naturally rubs her bundle of nerves over and over with each motion. She whines and he nods—he can feel it too. He clutches her back. They’re so close and he wants more. He wants every part of her. And she gives it to him. They shudder together finally reaching a shared peak but even when it’s over, they don’t separate. Kendall falls asleep first curled up against her chest. They fall asleep holding hands.

The sun is barely up when Nisha wakes up. Their hands broke apart but he’s still reaching towards her. She got sucked in. Ramesh was right. He’s her weakness. He’s always been. She kisses the back of Kendall’s hand. She still loves him. She wonders if she ever really stopped deep down. He bared his soul to her and she to him. But this…what did this mean? Logan’s destroying Waystar and Kendall desperately needs rehab.  Did she make a mistake? She sighs and shuts her eyes. What is she going to do?

[ccuurriioossiittyy]

Chapter 470: the lure

Friday, February 16, 2024

My heart was racing with excitement. I was so excited for this date with Griffen. I was standing my my bathroom, bopping along to some Ariana Grande to try to get my confidence up and my nerves down. I was sipping on a glass of sauv blanc, and had just got off Facetime with Kendall who was hyping me up.

Ken was in Arizona with Devin, Hailey and Justin were off somewhere. Alexia and John went back to Toronto for the weekend, and since Ida's birthday was on Sunday, she had back to back celebrations all weekend. So I was running out of friends to call and gush about this too.

But, he should be picking me up in around fifteen minutes, so I did need to get my shit together.

I wore a tight, black turtleneck, tank top that was cropped just before my hips, with some dark wash, baggy, low-rise pants and I was going to pair that with a pair of black pointy kitten heels. My hair was big and bouncy, and I kept my makeup dewy and light.

"I say ya, I would want myself, baby please believe me," I sang out loud, prancing out of my bathroom, as Tate McRae echoed through the speakers in my house. "I put you through hell, just to know me yeah, yeah," I continued to sing as I walked to my closet to pick out a purse.

I wanted to dress cool and look hot. I wanted to look edgy, but also like a dream girl. I felt like I had a lot to live up to, and I wanted to dress to impress.

I was truthfully so, so so, excited to see him. I was so pumped to be sitting across from him at a table, to chat with him, to learn more about him. To see his smile! And to kiss him. I was excited for all of it.

I grabbed my oversized leather jacket, and a small black Louis Vuitton purse and turned off the lights in my room, leaving on a dim light, outlining my ceiling, just so there was some romantic mood lighting in case we came back. I was in my kitchen, tapping my heel, anxiously waiting for his text.

I decided to take a tequila shot to calm my nerves, and then paced around my house, carrying my wine glass as the buzz was kicking in. But the closer it got until 7:00, the more my heart raced.

Ding.

My heart raced. I quickly walked back to the kitchen where my phone was.

7:52.

G: Hey! I'm outside, black porsche G: I'm early so don't rush

I smirked and my face got hot. Here he was! This was happening! And he was early!

I downed my glass of wine, went to my bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth, and swished some mouthwash around as I texted him back telling him I would be down shortly.

Pouting at myself, one last time in the mirror, I touched up my make-up, relined my lips and applied more lipgloss. Before I smacked my lips together, took a step back and posed at myself in the mirror.

"You look fucking good," I told myself, pointing at myself in the mirror.

I quickly, half-jogged across my apartment to my kitchen, and I threw on my jacket and grabbed my purse, spritzed on a perfume sampler I had my my purse and headed to the elevator.

Standing there, waiting for each floor to pass, each ding, I got more and more nervous. My knees were shaking back and forth and I felt my face get hot. I needed to calm the fuck down. He was just a person.

Was he nervous? He had to be! He was a boy. There was no way he was not even a little bit nervous. I could at least talk to my girlfriends, run through the motions with them. He couldn't. So, following that reasoning, I told myself that boys would always be more nervous than girls.

When I finally got to the lobby, I walked out the elevator doors and through the lobby past the doorman and the front-desk security, who were talking.

"Good night guys!" I waved walking by, as the doorman, walked quickly to get ahead of me, to open the door.

"Have a good evening, Ms. Kerr," smiled the security guard.

"Take care," smiled the doorman, opening the door, and I walked out into the cold, and went New York night.

There was the typical, dark evening glow off the wet pavements, but it had been mild so there was minimal snow. I looked to the side as people walked by on the road, keeping their heads down. I loved that about New York, people were so in their own world I could walk out onto the street with one of the best NHL players in New York and nobody even noticed, or looked twice.

Right there, in front of my building, was the Porsche, lights flashing.

I walked over to the car and when I got close, out popped out Griffen and my heartbeat got faster.

"Hey!" He said, running his hands through his perfect hair, I could tell he styled it a bit, and geled it. He was so sexy.

"Hi," I smiled, as he walked over and gave me a hug. "Where's your truck you were telling me about?" I teased, as he opened my car door for me. "Thanks."

When we were together the other night he actually kept going on and on about this pick-up truck that he just got.

"Heh," he chuckled, walking back around and I closed my door, and he popped back into the driver's seat, "the truck is what I drive on the Island, not in Manhattan, it's too big. You'll meet her one day."

I hoped so.

I buckled up my seatbelt, looked at what song was playing and it was some old Jay-Z, and then looked over at him, sitting there typing in the address on Google Maps.

"Besides, I think this is a bit sexier," he shrugged, putting his phone in the cupholder and starting the car.

"I see your point," I smiled. "I don't even have a car here, I never drive."

"No?"

"Not really, a lot of time I am going to and from work so I have driver's, parkings a bitch, and if I am going out of town, my parents have two cars so I just borrow them."

"Makes sense," Griff agreed, putting one hand on the steering wheel, purposely doing the sexy-driving thing. And it was fucking working. "I am constantly going back and forth, this thing is fun for the city, but like it's not the most practical. I take the truck to games and practice."

"How long is your drive? Like from Dumbo?"

"To the arena, it's like 30 minutes. I go so early and leave so late so I don't really hit any traffic. Then practice, it's like 45 minutes to an hour," he shrugged.

"That's not great," I chuckled.

Griffen looked over at me and smile, "no?"

"No," I smirked.

"Well, it takes me 45 minutes to get half-way across Long Island, probably takes you 45 minutes from the Upper West Side to Soho," he teased and I laughed.

"I don't even want to laugh! But you're right!" I giggled.

He stopped at a red light, and signed and looked over at me.

"How was the game the other night?" I asked, pretending like I didn't know they got squashed.

"Not the best," he chuckled, "got a penalty," he laughed shaking his head.

"Something tells me that's a regular occurrence?"

Griff just gave me a smirk.

"Something like that," he shrugged. "Anyway, good game for you not to come too. Maybe I would have played a bit better then though, I dunno."

"I tend to be a good luck charm," I teased.

"Well, we can test that out next home game," he said, putting his hand to his lips and playing with them, before driving as the light turned green. "Have you ever been to this place?" He asked changing the subject, "the restaurant."

"No! And it's around the corner."

"I haven't either," he laughed.

"So if it's shit, it's your fault?"

"Ha," he laughed looking over at me. "Sure, we can say that, blame it on me!" He teased sarcastically.

He turned a corner and I struggled to keep my eyes off of his as he drove. He was a lot more calm, conversational, normal than I remembered. But I liked it, he seemed more human. It made me less intimidated by him.

"I am sure this is going to be lovely!" I exclaimed.

"Right? You can't fuck up Italian?"

"You can't!" I agreed smiling.

* * *

Griffen held the door for me as we walked into the restaurant and I just felt so cool. To be walking in with him, just was cool. The potential of having people see me with him was just cool to me. He was so sexy. I really liked him.

And seeing him like this, in his backwards hat, leather jacket, black long sleeve shirt and jeans. He just always look so cool and he was so big so he stood out. I was so happy to show him off.

We got taken to a table by the window, it was dim and there were candles on the table. He already was gazing at the menu, suggesting things we could split and he let me take the reins with picking the wine. Already I was so happy to be here with him, we were off to a great start.

He ordered us an arugula salad, grilled octopus to start and gnocchi and a seafood pasta. and I just ordered us a nice bottle of a white wine and the server was off, leaving us to it.

"I'm already impressed," I nodded, taking my napkin and placing it on my lap and he did the same.

"With me? Or the place?" He smirked doing the same.

"Both," I replied, "but too early to say with confidence," I teased and he laughed.

"You've got an answer for everything, don't you?"

"Pretty much," I giggled, "but I would say you do to."

"Takes a lot to leave me speechless," he shrugged, looking intently at me.

"Is that a challenge?" I asked in a low voice, raising my brow.

"Mhm," he nodded staring right in my eyes with a sort of hunger as he sipped his water.

"Noted," I nodded doing the same and drinking my water and he smiled at me.

"You're a cool girl, I do have to say... Makes sense why you left LA for New York," he said.

"I left for work, change of scenery, be close to family," I replied.

"Your family's here?"

"Mhm, my parents are here like six months of the year, other six months in Toronto, and my little sister goes to Yale law school, it just made sense. Plus my grandmother, she was getting sick so I just wanted to be on the east coast," I nodded.

"Ah shit, that's tough."

"It was, but I got to spend a lot of time with her before she died. She has, had, this gorgeous house right in the Hamptons so we'd just sit on her porch and look out onto the beach, really special things," I smiled thinking of her fondly, in her wheelchair. How skinny she had gotten before the end but she still always smiled so bright.

"I'm sorry, still though that shit is never easy."

"It's been okay - but yeah, I've been here since like November, I'm liking it though. It's nice to be somewhere where things aren't so far apart," I replied changing the subject.

My mom and I were already going to the Hamptons tomorrow to clear out some of her stuff. That would be emotional enough.

"In Manhattan yeah-"

"Okay Dumbo, calm down," I teased rolling my eyes and he laughed.

"I'm on your side!" He laughed holding his arms up in defence. "Better or worse traffic than Toronto?"

"Worse," I laughed. "You should know that too, no?"

"I mainly stay in hotels downtown when I play there, then when I am home I am at my hometown, Aurora, and then in Muskoka during the summer. Don't spend too much time there now," he said.

The waiter came back with the wine, poured me the sampler, let me taste it, and then filled our glasses and left the bottle in the ice bucket, as Griffen and I both cheers'd and continued the conversation.

"Fair, I guess most people avoid the city if they don't need to be there."

"Yup," he nodded, "when I was in my early 20's I probably dicked around there in the summers but not too much now."

"Were you always playing for New York?"

"Nah, so," he started. "So, I played throughout like my whole life, did triple A in high school, then in my last year I was in the OHL, lived in Owen Sound for a few years, until I was 19, and was committed to play at the University of Michigan," he said, "played there for two years, so until I was like 21, 22," he said looking up and I could tell he was going back in his memory, "then got drafted in 2018, Boston Bruins, 4th overall, if that means anything to you," he chuckled.

"It does," I nodded.

"Played there for a few years, until the 2020/2021 season, then got traded to the Islanders," he shrugged. "So been here three years," he nodded.

"Was it hard moving around like that?"

"No, you're so used to it. Like I've been on the road, going from place to place my whole life for tournaments, networking with coaches, seeing teams play," he nodded, "then moved out from home when I was 17 for hockey... Some guys have had to live with host families and in weird fucking small towns in Ontario since they were like 14, so I'd consider myself to be pretty lucky."

"Totally, and I guess it sets you up for what being in the NHL is like."

"For sure, 82 regular season games, 41 of them at home, 41 away, it's a lot of travelling."

"I can imagine," I nodded. "But I am assuming this is all you ever wanted?"

"Since I can remember, I always knew I would be doing this," he shrugged, swirling his wine in the glass with his hands. "But I am sure you get it with the travel thing."

"Yeah, I get to make my schedule a bit more, but yeah, you get sick of living out of a suitcase pretty quick," I replied.

"And I am sure your jetlag is much worse than mine!"

"Yeah, going from LA to Paris or Milan is very touch, but surprisingly I find the east coast-west coast jet lag to be worse."

"Really?"

"Mhm, that three hour difference kills me," I laughed.

"Funny, I think it first bothered me when I started, but it's all second nature now."

"I don't think I could ever get used to it," I smiled leaning my elbows on the table.

"Well, did you ever think your life would be like this?"

"Like what?" I asked, resting my head on my hands intently watching him.

"Like this! Living in New York, travelling around, modelling, all of it," he said sipping his wine.

I liked this questions. I liked our chats.

"Never! I could have never imagine that this would be my life!" I chuckled, "never in a million years."

"What did you think you'd be doing then?"

"I thought I was going to be a lawyer, I spent my whole life preparing for that, went to law school! Have a law degree! I was going to help take over my dad's firm. Thought I'd be living in a condo, downtown Toronto by now," I shrugged.

"Hm," he smirked. "Yeah, you're living a different life."

"Just a little," I smirked back scrunching my nose. "What about you? Is this all you dreamed of?"

"Totally, I always figured I'd be doing this. I was born for it, honestly," he shrugged smirking, but he was serious. He was so full of himself. It drove me crazy, but in a good way.

"No back up plan?"

"I never really even had time to consider it frankly," he said. "Everything started happening for me at such a young age. From then it was always just about being good enough to make it to the next step, there was no other option," he shrugged.

By the end of the dinner I had a good buzz from my solo pre-drinks, whereas Griff was nursing his second glass of wine because he had to drive and was not "interested in leaving" his car here overnight. We split a chocolate cake after a delicious dinner and it was about 10:30 and we were scraping the plate, and I had about half my glass left. We had such good banter, I didn't want to leave. I didn't want this date to be over.

He was luring me in like crazy.

"So, with all this freetime before your next game, what are you going to do?" I asked, both of us leaning toward each other at the table, slowly inching closer to each other as the night went on.

"It may look like freetime, Megan, but I actually had shit to do!" He laughed.

I loved it when he said my name.

"Like what?" I teased.

"Practice, like everyday, physiotherapy, massages, chiropractic, jogs, workouts with my trainer, team strategy meetings!" He exclaimed. "Also! While you sit around thinking I'm doing butt-fuck nothing, I actually have a charity game for veterans!" He laughed and I giggled.

"Shut up," I laughed.

"Navy Federal Credit Union game! In New Jersey! Google it!" He exclaimed.

"I believe you! I believe you!" I laughed, taking a sip of my wine.

"So insensitive... And t the vets!" He teased shaking his head, as the server came by and plopped the bill on the table, "thanks," Griff muttered.

"Okay now, now. Let's not spread that rumour around," I smirked.

I wondered what he would say to transition this. I wasn't ready to leave this yet.

He took his wallet from his pocket, pulled out a black card and placed it in the cheque book.

"So what are you feeling? I can drop you off at home, we can go back to Brooklyn? I'd love to drop my car off and then go to this bar around the corner of my house if you're up for it," he shrugged looking at his watch.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"10:45," he said.

"Sure, let's go to Brooklyn," I said, trying to keep my cool.

I was not ready for this night to end.

He paid the bill, we walked out, got his car, he tipped the valet and we drove all the way back to Brooklyn. We dropped his car off in the parking garage, and then walked two blocks to this cocktail bar called bar56.

He dabbed up the host who was also the owner, they chatted momentarily, Griffen introduced me and then we were taken to a cozy table by the window. It was lively and bustling in here... It had been a while since I went on dates to such public, busy places, but honestly it was nice to be surrounded by people, it felt more intimate. Plus, nobody really gave two shits about us, or paid us any attention.

"So you must be a regular here?" I asked as Griffen took off his coat, placing it on the edge of the corner seat we were in, and I handed him mine and he did the same.

"It's embarrassing, I don't leafe Dumbo if it's not for work!"

"You left Dumbo tonight," I teased.

"It was a networking dinner," he smirked putting his arm around my shoulder.

"Oh was it!?" I teased pretending to be shocked. "Are you going to write that off?!"

"Business expense... Yeah," he smirked looking at me, our faces so close in the dark room as music played in the background and I held my mouth slightly agape wanting him to kiss me when we saw the server come over out of the corner of our eye.

We both turned our heads and smiled at the pretty girl, handing us coasters.

"Hello!" She exclaimed.

"Hi Faith, how's it going?" Asked Griff.

"Good, busy night. No game tonight?"

"If there was, I wouldn't be here," he chuckled and she laughed.

"Fair... Well can I get you guys started with anything? I love your earrings by the way," said Faith.

"Oh! Thanks!" I smiled touching them. "Heaven Mayhem."

"Super cute," she smiled, her eyes looking at Griffen's arm around me and then back at us as she pressed her lips together.

"Just an espresso martini please, thanks," he said.

"And I'll get a tequila soda, please," I smirked.

"SIngle? Double?"

I looked over at Griffen who nodded pressing his brows and making a silly face.

"Double, I guess," I smirked as he chuckled and pulled me into him.

"You got it," Faith smiled. "I'll be right back," she smirked.

I looked back at Griffen and held onto his hand which was around my arm.

"Espresso martini? I guess someone's not going to bed tonight."

"That's the plan," he muttered before leaning in and kissing me and I just about melted.

The lure this man had was insane.

[fashionbrands30]

Gallery Dept

The Rise of Gallery Dept: Where Art Meets Fashion

Gallery Dept. has carved out a unique space in the fashion world by blending art, creativity, and clothing in ways that transcend traditional streetwear. Founded by gallery dept, the brand stands out for its commitment to self-expression, customization, and a rebellious ethos that appeals to a new generation of fashion enthusiasts. But what exactly is the story behind this rising brand, and why has it garnered such a cult following?

A Creative Vision at the Core

Gallery Dept. started as more than just a clothing line—it's a movement of artistic expression. Josué Thomas, an artist and designer, founded the brand with the idea of reworking vintage clothing into one-of-a-kind pieces that reflect individuality. Each garment is hand-painted, distressed, or reconstructed to create a piece that feels as though it’s not just fashion, but wearable art.

Thomas brings his background in art and design into every piece, making Gallery Dept. an intersection of fashion and fine art. The brand takes influences from both street culture and high art, creating something entirely fresh. From customized denim jackets to paint-splattered jeans, every piece has a story to tell.

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The Distinctive Style of Gallery Dept.

Gallery Dept. is known for its distinctive aesthetic, which merges the raw and the refined. The brand's signature looks often include paint splatters, distressed fabrics, and patchwork details that give off an effortlessly cool, worn-in vibe. This DIY ethos is a big part of its appeal, offering a sense of authenticity that mass-produced fashion often lacks.

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One of the brand’s best-known items is its vintage-inspired jeans, which are often reworked with unique details like paint splatters or fading, giving each pair a distinct look. Additionally, their graphic T-shirts and reworked jackets are iconic staples, often featuring bold prints or artistic motifs that push the boundaries of conventional streetwear.

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Celebrity Endorsements and Cultural Impact

Gallery Dept. has gained a significant following thanks to celebrity endorsements from the likes of Kanye West, Travis Scott, and Kendall Jenner, among others. These high-profile endorsements have helped bring the brand into the spotlight, propelling it from a niche favorite to a streetwear powerhouse. The brand’s pieces are often seen on some of the biggest names in music, fashion, and entertainment, which has further cemented its status as a trendsetter.

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But it’s not just celebrities who are drawn to the brand. Gallery Dept. resonates with individuals who appreciate clothing that tells a story. Its focus on sustainability through upcycling also appeals to consumers looking for eco-friendly options in fashion.

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The Customization Factor

One of the things that makes Gallery Dept. stand out is its commitment to customization. Many pieces are one-of-a-kind due to the unique artistic process each garment undergoes. Whether it's a pair of jeans hand-painted by the designer or a vintage jacket transformed into something entirely new, no two pieces are alike. This attention to individuality is one of the brand’s core strengths, allowing customers to own something truly unique.

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In a fashion landscape often dominated by mass production, Gallery Dept.’s approach is refreshing. The brand celebrates imperfections, embraces the creative process, and allows for spontaneity in design—making its pieces feel more like wearable art than mere clothing.

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The Gallery Dept. Community

The sense of community and collaboration is another key element of the brand’s success. Gallery Dept. has worked with several other brands and artists on limited-edition collections, further pushing its boundaries and keeping its aesthetic fresh. These collaborations have helped solidify its standing as a brand that is not only fashion-forward but also deeply rooted in the art world.

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Through pop-ups, exhibitions, and unique retail experiences, Gallery Dept. has created an engaged community of fans who share the brand’s passion for creativity and authenticity. The brand's flagship store in Los Angeles feels more like an art gallery than a typical retail shop, underscoring its ethos of merging art and fashion.

Conclusion: Fashion as Art

Gallery Dept. isn’t just a clothing brand—it’s an artistic revolution within the fashion world. Its ability to fuse art, culture, and streetwear has garnered a cult following, making it one of the most exciting names in contemporary fashion. Whether you’re drawn to its raw aesthetic, its commitment to customization, or its embrace of creative expression, Gallery Dept. is reshaping what it means to wear art.

As the brand continues to grow, one thing is clear: Gallery Dept. is not just following trends, it's setting them—one hand-painted, reworked piece at a time.