#always gotta bust out those go go boy moves when he’s partying

[wardogsong]

@prettytm

"That the one with the budded cross tattoo on his neck? Right side, faded black ink. Keeps company with the Albanians?" Frank double-checks the intel he's given; making sure he's parsing it right. It'd be a shame to make a bad move because he's taken one too many shots to the head. In here? The mooks are all the same to him. Names come in one ear and go out the other with no nevermind to him. He's in here for one reason and one reason only and it isn't to party with these criminals unless they get it started with him first. For the most part he gives them all a wide berth and takes the same in return from the ones smart enough to know who he is and what he's done. It keeps the number of idiots gunning for his head and the prestige it'll bring them down to a reasonable enough number.

There's always gotta be one particularly special class clown though. Frank had known it'd come from the moment they put the cuffs on Billy in the park. It's why he'd let them put those silver bracelets on him too— gone through the whole sham of an additional trial for having busted out of Rikers during his first stint PLUS additional charges for everything he'd done after. The proximity of it all ensured they'd get sent to the same place. The law, well, they were hoping Bill and Frank would finish behind bars what they had started in the middle of the city— hell they offered Billy leniency that Frank could live with to take a deal and keep his trap shut about the truths he knew. Damning truths. Government shaking truths. Frank hopes when they get out of here Billy will either make them pay or sell to the highest bidder but in the meantime; he'll goddamn serve something that brings his weary soul whatever measure of peace he can squeeze out of this.

But he'll serve it safe. He'll serve it right. Not as the pretty boy fresh meat this kind of joint chews up and swallows.

So he brings Bill along to the media room where they all congregate at this hour and stares down the named dead man walking, nodding his way once and confirming yet again. "That him, Bill? This guy?" That final yes is all he needs.

He doesn't have long but he doesn't need long. It's tight enough quarters and the better part of the gathered masses give them room— self preservation of one kind or another kicking in. A few stragglers stay to back up their pal but Frank won't lay hands on them if they don't on him first. Of words? There are none. The whole crew can see Bill's busted up face; the marks of the fight he put up to keep from being assaulted. Everyone in here knows they are some kind of connected. The dots are easy enough for even these morons to put together. Hell, walking in together was statement enough. There is only violence left. A hard fast right hook that breaks nose and brings blood— a roar usually reserved for war and a follow-up flurry of decisive strikes meant to take a man down hard and fast and fatally. Once he's down Frank chokes the life out of him to the soundtrack of blaring alarms and running boots; the usual response to an inmate fight that needs breaking up except that by the time they surround and pry him off? It doesn't need breaking up anymore.

Just a call to the in-house morgue..

[asoulofatlantis]

Okay... since I may or may not have lost my last ounce of self-control yesterday and may or may not couldn’t help but buy a PS5 with FF16 I may or may not have to make sure that I finish this games main story a bit faster. Not as in doing it in a rush, but as in, not watching those past-storylines that I don’t really care about until I feel like doing it. So... today we only watch the “Down the Rabbit Hole” - Storyline for absolutly non-shipper reasons of course XD (As this is the only chance aside from the final chapter to get Alisa and Rean together...) and then we watch “To your bledded Future” which is a boringisch but also very wholesome.

So lets get the party started!

I love how we are here to get Lammy back. What would Millium be without Airgetlam? But that is also so typical Cold Steel. Instead of, you know having Millium adjust to a new combat shell or something like that, we just get an Airgetlam back that is... you know the Lammy we all know and love. Because bo even combatshells truly die in the Cold Steel Saga XD

First try. Last time I played this I so damn desperately tried to get their link-event and I almost failed. This time... the first monster shows up and here we are XD Seriously, I have to admit I am still a bit unhappy about the downgrade from the CS4 link-event... but we got the usual high-five that not just is something those two have always done, but a lot of other ships actually have as their link event. Including Estelle and Joshua. I guess when it comes to this, we can say that Body-contact in some way, shape or form is the deciding factor. Although nothing can beat Millium and Jusis in that regard. They do not just have a double high-five, Millium is actually leaning her back against Jusis Torso and its just so... ♥ That aside, I think going for Alisa and Rean with a “Its like you can read my mind” themen for their Dialoge just eases into how their relationship is portrayed in this game. Which is as “No more word necessary” and that is more than enough for me.

Alright... lets get back to getting back Airgetlam.

Is there still anyone out there who truly believes I like that sidestory for the plot? ^^’ (Its really not bad tho... its just... I have totally different Priorities XD)

Reans Priority Ladys and Gentleman. Thats my boy.

And here we have Jusis Priority Ladys and Gentleman.

After these two scenes following each other I will like singing: “I am sailing! I am sailing!” XD

Gotta love Millium XD

Aren't they adorable? I could kiss those two for their cuteness and shippiness ♥ And who would have seen this coming back in the day of CS1 and CS2?

I am not crying! You are! *sniff*

And here is the surprise guest for our reunion-party! A dead man sending us one last final message.

*lol* Now that we have lightened the mood... XD we can tell Millium that we already have far too many girls with huge busting boobies... *breakt into laughter* You really gotta love that girl.

And he loved him for it.

One of the many reasons that the Trails-Series brings me so much joy and has the power to love so many amazing (and sometimes not so amazing XD) characters, is because of the fact that moving on to a new saga never erases the existence of the previous characters or what they did and who they are. And over the span of the years that pass us by in game while jumping from Saga to Saga, you have the wonderful opportunity to see those characters that you know and love or come to love eventually grow in every possible way. Physically, emotionally and also their relationships evolve over these times. It leaves me speechless to think, that Schera and Olivert actually truly fell in love with each other, came together and now got to be married and will soon (SPOILER!) add a new member to my dearly beloved Reise Arnor Family... after all we’ve been through and after the events of the Sky Saga. I mean, that is the same woman who once drunk Olivert under the table and now she is going to marry him. It... just makes me so happy to see my beloved characters get the happy ending their truly deserve after watching them grow *cries tears of joy*

It truly was not XD

[maybebanks]

I Noticed You

jj maybank x kook! reader

“Alright, Sarah. Bye now,” you groaned, stepping out past her white painted bedroom door.

“Noooo,” she whined, “don’t leave,”

“I gotta go.” You pouted, “my dad wants me home,”

“Fine. Be like that.” She waved you off.

“Your parents are way less strict then mine!” You argued.

“Uh huh,” Sarah responded sarcastically, “I’m gonna miss you, bitch,” she smiled.

“Okay...see ya,” you waved while walking through the door.

You continued down the hallway, it was a sort of narrow hallway, but you’ve been down it many times before.

“Hey Y/n,” you heard Rafe’s voice call for you, he was leaning casually against his door frame.

“Oh..hey,” you answer, stopping infront of him.

You had to look up to talk to him because he was taller than you.

“Can we talk for a minute?” Rafe asks. You had no idea why he would want to talk to you. I mean, he’s always been nice to you, but he was nearly 20. And you were barely 17.

You nodded, following his gesture for you to come into his room.

He closed the door after you. You just stood by the window. Raising your eyebrows at his suspicious actions.

You looked behind you and saw their backward looking fresh, a Pogue, you think his name is JJ but you didn’t know him well, mowing the lawn.

“I have to be quick. I promised to be home,” you mentioned.

Rafe smiled, not saying anything, just looking at you.

You fumbled with your crop top, “So..what’s this about?” You asked.

“You know how long I’ve been trying to get you alone. You and Sarah...it’s non stop,” he said.

“What?” You asked, very confused in general.

“You were at Toppers party right? Damn..when I saw you snort that coke I was like...this girl...she’s bad,” he chuckled.

“Oh...that was-that was a mistake. I don’t do drugs like that anymore,” you reassured, feeling regretful about that mistake.

He laughed, “don’t lie to yourself, baby. Just think of the fun we could have together,”

Is this some kind of flirting?

“Look...uh, I have to go. Talk later?” you opened the door a bit but Rafe slammed it shut.

“What the hell?” You asked angerly.

Rafe scoffed, “hanging out with Sarah makes you a real bitch,”

“Rafe...I have to go!” You raised your voice. This seemed to anger him. For next, he lunged towards you, trapping you against the wall.

“You think you can tell me what to fucking do?” He asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

When you saw his eyes, you could tell he was high.

“No, I’m-“ you began but stopped yourself when the door creaked open.

Wheezie’s brunette head peaked through the crack of the door.

When she saw both of you, her eyes turned confused.

Rafe moved off of you, “Wheezie, get out of here,” he ordered.

She didn’t argue like she usually would, she didn’t even exchange a glance at you. Just left the room, leaving the door a crack open.

“Shit,” you whispered involuntarily.

“Tell me, Y/n, what’s it gonna take?” he asked.

“Hi!” Wheezie shouted over the loud noise of the lawnmower. Waving her hand towards the boy out in the field.

JJ chuckled, he mowed the lawn for the Cameron’s once or twice a week. Wheezie was basically the only Cameron to talk to him, she would test out flirted to him, even though he was a pogue.

JJ turned the lawn mower off, walking over to Wheezie.

“What’s up?” JJ asked, honestly, he enjoyed a break from his work, and he would never get in trouble becuase Wheezie would defend him.

“So...uh...I don’t know for sure. But I think Rafe is gonna hurt her. And he’s kinda....you know, I mean he does drugs. I saw him this morning! Anyway, he’s in his room and I think-“

“Whoa! Slow down! Who’s gonna hurt who?” JJ asked, now concerned.

“Just put on a shirt and come with me!” She demanded, pulling him by his wrist towards the house.

“I don’t think your parents would be okay with me comin’ in,” JJ chuckled again.

“Just...okay...you know Y/n right? She’ll kill me if she knew I brough you into this becuase she hates attention or whatever but I’m worried, because you know...Rafe has a thing for her and I’m just worried he might try to kiss her and...” She trailed off, but JJ knew what she meant.

He frowned, “You sure I should go in there? What if she wants it. I mean, a lot of kook girls hook up with Rafe,”

“TMI!” Wheezie exclaimed, “anyway, Y/n isn’t one of those kook girls. She’s wayy too good for Rafe. Plus I think she’s into surfer boys,” Wheezie shrugs.

JJ sighs, “alright fine. But you owe me for this,” JJ began walking up the stairs, “what, you not comin’?”

“I am not about to get yelled at by Rafe. Plus I’ll cover the fort down here, so my parents don’t get involved.”

When he finally made it to the second floor, he heard your voice. You weren’t strangers, you’ve met once or twice, but JJ always thought you were way out of his league. And that was saying something.

“Rafe seriously. My dads gonna kill me!” You stated, pushing against Rafe’s rather buff chest.

“Who cares about your dad, Y/n. Just get on your knees,” he stated.

JJ felt disgusted. Even he knew that was no way to talk to a girl.

He stood outside the parted door.

“No, asshole,” you said bluntly, trying to get around him again.

He grabbed your wrist, harshly, pulling you back so you hit the wall. You moaned in pain when the doorknob from his closet door hit your back.

That’s when JJ interfered.

He pushed open the door to make his presence known.

You both looked up at him at the same time.

Rafe immediately stepped back from you, and you pushed the sleeve of your shoulder back to covering yourself.

“Everything alright in here?” JJ asked, studying the situation.

Rafe sniffled slightly nervously, he knew he probobly couldn’t take JJ in a fight due to all the drugs he’s on.

Rafe looked at you, to which you immediately understood, “uh...we are fine. Thanks JJ,” you answered, clearly nervous.

He was surprised, and unexpectedly flattered, when you addressed him by his name.

JJ thought fast, “there is a car here for Y/n,” JJ lied. But you believed it, and so did Rafe.

Rafe scratches the back of his neck, “Okay Y/n...have fun.” Rafe said as you stepped out of the room.

You wanted to flip him off, but JJ was right behind you.

When you got outside, JJ was about to tell you there was no car, but he couldn’t when you thre your arms around his torso, a hug, where you rested your head on his chest.

“Whoa,” he chuckled.

“Thank you, J, you have no idea...” you mumbled.

JJ slowly moved his arm to hug you back. But when his hand reached your mid back, you took a sharp intake of breath and pulled away.

“Sorry, for that. You really saved me back there,” you explained, looking up at him.

“It’s not problem. Oh and by the way, there’s no car here for you,” JJ mentioned.

“Oh...right. Shit I kinda need a ride. You looked around. Until your eyes landed on JJ again.

He studied you.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You asked.

“No...” JJ shook his head, “this is the most you’ve ever talked to me,” he blurted. Kinda regretting not usuing his usual approach when talking to girls.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you before. I just didn’t want to get you in trouble,” you explained, “but I have noticed you,”

Your phone dinged, and that’s when you remember to check the time, “shit,” you blurted.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just...my dads gonna kill me. I was suppose to be home like an hour ago,” you sigh, still nervous.

You noticed JJ tense, “I can give you a ride? The van is gonna smell like weed though,” he winked, gesturing for you to follow him.

You nodded, following him down the driveway to where his “busted” van was parked.

“I’m not usually this helpless, you know,” you blurted, wanting him to know you for the real you.

“Oh believe me, I know,” he chuckles, opening the van door for you.

He was surprised by himself, again. He’s never cared enough to open the door for anyone. But it was so simple you probobly wouldn’t notice.

You smiled, at him and hopped in. There were some all black aviators and a red SnapBack on the seat. Which you moved so you wouldn’t sit on them.

As JJ walked around the van, you couldn’t find anywhere to put them, with all the clutter around, so you just decided to wear the sunglasses and his hat.

When he opened the car his eyes widened in excitement, “looks good on you Y/n,” he said starting the van.

“Who the hells that? I’m JJ,” you joked. When you took a deep breath, you scrunched you’re nose at the stench.

“Whoo,” you sighed, “it’s strong in here. What’d you hotbox or something?” You continued with the JJ impression.

“How do you know me so well?” JJ laughed and grabbed the hat off your head and placed it backwards on his own.

“Just guessin’,” you shrugged, moving the sunglasses farther down your nose.

“Where’s your place?” JJ asked as he turned the wheel.

“Uh...” you trailed off when you noticed Rafe running out of the house, looking angry, waving at the van.

“Shit! JJ go!! Drive!” You commanded. Grabbing his hand and forcing it on the wheel.

You knew Rafe would judge you for spending time with a Pogue, and he would also be mad.

“Calm down, princess,” JJ responded, stepping on the gas.

You immediately retracted, “sorry.” You muttered.

He pulled out of the driveway quick and started heading down the wrong road.

“Where are you going?” You asked, slightly nervous now.

“Back to my place. Since you didn’t tell me where yours was,”

“Wait...uh it’s down that road. I’d really love to hang but I gotta be home,” you told him.

“Ya sure?” JJ said turning the wheel and heading down your street.

You nodded.

“No, I mean, kook princess, would be down to hang with a Pogue?” JJ asked.

You pointed to the pastel yellow mansion with terra-cotta roofing, “of course JJ, I think you’re dope,”

“Holy shitt,” JJ moaned when he saw your house, admiring its beauty and the boat you had parked in the front.

“Jesus, what id give to be a kook,” he mumbled.

“Trust me, it’s not as good as it-“

“Y/N!!!” Your father shouts, he must have seen you pull in.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

JJs heat started to race, that was so damn hot.

You pulled of the sunglasses and placed them on the dash.

“See ya later, and also, you can come over any time use any materials you like. My brother got a new surf board and then went off to college, it’s all yours if you want it,”

JJ smirked, perks of having a kook friend that lived with a family that bought status symbols with their money, “can I get your number?”

“Yeah, it’s-“

You both stopped at the banging on JJs window.

Your father, was urgently yelling, “Y/N get out here right now. Your late for training, god damn it,” it was muffled, but you both understood.

“Training?” JJ questioned.

“See you at the Cameron’s,” you winked, then hopped out of the car and joined your dad inside the kook mansion.

JJ contemplated a life with you, only for a moment, then pulled out of your, rather long, stone driveway.

happy friday !

my masterlist

[shyvioletcat]

I’d like to place a request for Aelin singing Uptown Funk by Bruno Mars and Rowan overhearing it (you decide if it’s intentional or her singing in the shower or drunk karaoke hehe) in Striking Matches of course 😉 since that hasn’t happened yet

cont: Oops wait I always forget it’s technically by Mark Ronson ft Bruno Mars ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ my bad it’s a collab

I went with something different, but let’s be real... Aelin would just about sing this song every chance she gets.

So Timeline wise, this so just after they get together. It’s probably been a month and a half since he busted her door.

Striking Matches Masterlist

~~~~~

The fire alarm ringing through the school gym had the kids in a panic, it even took a few moments for Aelin to get her own feelings under control. But when her kids had flocked to her, their scared faces wide-eyed, she pulled herself together. When she had volunteered to chaperone the Halloween dance this is not what she expected. 

Her and the other teachers ushered the kids outside, not even a trace of smoke to be found but still they got all the kids out to the car park. It was soon apparent that some cheeky troublemaker, probably urged on by their peers, had pulled the alarm and there was no real threat of fire. But they had to follow protocol and that meant the greater portion of the student body from grades 4-6 were huddled in the car park —all in their costumes— waiting for the firefighters to turn up to give the official all clear. The poor things were getting cold in the brisk October air and still nervous after all the drama. Aelin wasn’t feeling particularly warm herself in her Alice in Wonderland costume, the striped tights at least were offering her some protection from the cold. 

So Aelin did the first thing she could think of. 

Turning her phone full volume she led a dance party in the empty spaces of the parking lot. She was dancing to hype the kids up, most likely looking like a dork as she did the sprinkler for the umpteenth just as the fire engine pulled up. The team unloaded from the vehicle very quickly, Lorcan barely gave the excited children a second glance, but Aelin’s students were thrilled to see Rowan again and he gave them a wide smile and a wave. Fenrys directed a thumbs up to her in approval of her dance moves before he waved to the kids as well, giving them some finger guns to top it off.

Another song played through and the whining of the alarm stopped and everyone cheered. Lorcan appeared again and went to clear things with the principal then the others started filing out. Out of nowhere an idea struck Aelin, a song that seemed too perfect to pass up in the moment. So she unlocked her phone, scrolling through until she found the song she wanted. 

The poppy vocalising at the intro of the song started and she made sure to keep at least one eye of Rowan as everyone started dancing. She saw the twins share a look and then they were laughing. Gavriel was just shaking his head. 

This hit, that ice cold

Michelle Pfeiffer, that white gold

This one for them hood girls

Them good girls straight masterpieces

Aelin sang along and somewhere she heard Lysandra cackling. 

Stylin', wilin', livin' it up in the city

Got Chucks on with Saint Laurent

Gotta kiss myself, I'm so pretty

I'm too hot ���– hot damn

Aelin pointed at Rowan who was trying his damndest not to smile. He was failing. 

Called a police and a fireman

I'm too hot –– hot damn

Make a dragon wanna retire man

I'm too hot –– hot damn

Say my name you know who I am

I'm too hot –– hot damn

And my band 'bout that money, break it down

Aelin wiggling her shoulders ridiculously at him had him breaking and he laughed. By then Rowan had reached and took her by the hand, spinning her a few times –– her apron and skirts fanning out. The kids, meanwhile, were going insane. 

When Rowan stopped the spinning Aelin’s hands landed on his shoulders. 

“Don’t you think this song is a little inappropriate for the little ones?” He said. 

“I suppose.” Aelin sighed and changed the song, a chorus of disappointed protests sounding. “But I just couldn’t resist.”

A terse Whitethorn came from the direction of the fire engine, making both Aelin and Rowan look over. The rest of the team was loaded back up ready to head back to the station. Aelin linked her arm with Rowan and handed her phone off to Lysandra so she could keep the party going while the executives decided what to do next. 

“Will you come by for breakfast tomorrow? I bought a fresh box of toaster waffles,” Aelin asked, leaning close to leech his warmth. 

“Those things taste like cardboard,” Rowan complained. 

Aelin just she rolled her eyes. “Fine, come for the company then.” 

“I think I’d rather eat the cardboard,” Rowan replied, the corners of his mouth betraying him as they quirked upwards. 

“Remind me again why I agreed to make us a thing?” Aelin said as she let go him and Rowan put one foot on the step of the turck then leaned in closer to her. 

“How about I remind you tomorrow morning,” he said, his voice little more than a purr. “And I’ll pick something up from a bakery on the way home.”

Rowan pulled himself up into the cab before Aelin could reply, but she was smiling as he rolled down the window. Then she stepped up onto the step as Rowan leaned out the window. 

“I like that sound of that.”

They were both smiling when their lips met but they managed. They broke apart when Fenrys’ wolf whistle startled them both, Aelin managed to refrain from flipping him of for the sake of the students and the reprimands it would get her if any of her superiors saw. 

“See you in the morning,” Rowan said, Aelin’s reply was a two fingers salute as the truck drove away.

Aelin watched it go until it had turned and she couldn’t see Rowan anymore. When she went to go back to the impromptu dance party she noticed one of her students, Benjamin, standing on the outskirts watching her, his mouth hanging open in surprise. 

“You okay there, Benjamin?” Aelin asked.

It took him a moment to answer and he looked past her to where the fire engine had been parked, then he beckoned her closer. Aelin rested her hands on her knees so she was just about level with him. 

“Miss G, did you just kiss Fireman Whitethorn?” He whispered. 

Aelin nodded. “I did.”

“But…” Benjamin’s brow furrowed. “You’re only supposed to kiss people who are you boyfriend or girlfriend. Is Mr Whitethorn your boyfriend?” 

The boy was so excited and perplexed he’d completely forgotten about the fireman bit. 

“He is,” she said simply. 

Aelin couldn’t wait to tell Rowan about the look of sheer delight that spread over Benjamin’s face when she told him. He spun around, no doubt to spread this new revelation amongst his classmates, she could practically see the ripple of excitement move through the crowd. Aelin just laughed and kept dancing until the parents started to arrive to pick up their kids.

~~~~~

I say it every time but... I miss these two.

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[lizzy-williams]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦.

★Warnings: SMUT, language, drug references, that good shit

★Theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTOiK8I2QsE

Cigarettes by Amir Obe

masterlist

★A/N: Holy shit my horny ass is too much- 

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗜𝗠. God, you hated him. You were but a simple tag along with the band, in charge of pyrotechnic ‘mumbo jumbo’ as he would call it. You were actually a cousin of Rook’s, and some how you got roped into everything. 

The worst part? The person you hated was your boss. Colson fucking Baker. An egotistical hot-head, in your opinion. But you did it for Rook, and Rook alone. He was your favorite family member, and you two were best friends as children, and best friends now. 

It was the night of the release of one of the singles Colson was working on for weeks. And now that it was finally out there, he took the group out to go out and party, including you. 

“Do this for Rook, do this for Rook” you would tell yourself over and over again as your car pulled up to the ‘special club’ Colson invited everyone to. 

But the big red neon sign grabbed your attention as you turned off the ignition and you felt like you were gonna vomit. 

“A strip club??” Rook said from the passenger seat, practically bouncing up and down like a child. 

You gave him a warning look, making him shut his mouth and look away. 

You took a deep breath in. “Do this for Rook, do this for Rook,”

As you walked in, you immediately were taken back by the scent of expensive cologne and cheap alcohol almost slapping you across the face. You saw neon lights everywhere, enough lighting to make anyone have a seizure.

You suddenly felt Rook take your hand, leading you to where he saw the rest of the gang. Everyone was sitting there, looking as tipsy as ever. Of course, you weren’t surprised. 

“Heyyy!” Colson raised his drink to Rook, a look of happiness crossing his face. 

“Hey short-fuse.” he said, unenthusiastically, making you roll your eyes.

You hated when he called you that. You weren’t usually so short with people. Some would say you were one of the sweetest people they’ve met. But with him, it was different. 

You let out a short, “Hi,” before you went to the bar to get a drink. 

You didn’t want to be a bitch to him all the time. In fact, you wanted to be his friend. You liked him. But his cocky attitude was the thing that you hated most, which was ultimately his downfall. 

Hopefully this wasn’t going to be a night that you would regret. 

The night had gone by slowly, Colson oggling at the half-naked girls on the poles. That seemed like the only way to catch his attention. Flash your tits, and your in.

Rook had already gone home with a girl, and you made sure that he was safe. Even though you knew your cousin could handle himself, it never stopped you from worrying. That was your job. You were like an older sister. 

You were now left with the rest of the band. As much as you hated to admit it, you were truly staying behind to make sure that Kells didn’t do anything stupid. 

Lo and behold, you heard the exact thing you were trying to prevent. You didn’t see the whole thing, but from what the rest of the band were yelling, it wasn’t fucking good. You pushed past the group surrounding the scene. 

There he was, straddling a guy and beating the shit out of him, his rings leaving gashes on his face. You bolted towards him, trying to pull him off the poor guy. 

“Kells, what the fuck are you doing?!! Get the fuck off!” You yelled, Baze and Slim doing their best to stop him as well. 

You then were slammed in the face by Colson’s elbow, your form stumbling back, your hand automatically going right where you were hit. 

THAT FUCKER BUSTED YOUR LIP. 

That’s when you about lost it, and by that time, Kells was pulled off the guy, the guys holding him back. You grabbed his ear, and despite the size difference, he was pliant as you pulled him to the front doors, stepping outside. 

“What the FUCK were you thinking?!” you yelled, not caring if anyone heard. 

“That prick kept trying to show me up by tipping one of the girls more. He got verbal, so I got physical.” he acted like it was no big deal and your blood boiled. 

“You could have been arrested.” you snapped back as you watched his eyes drift down to your lip. 

“Did that guy do that to you?” he asked, furious, pointing in the direction of the guy through the glass doors, “I’ll fucking kill him.” 

He gripped the handle to the door until you stopped him, “No. You did this.” you responded.

His face dropped, his eyes going soft, his hands reaching up and cupping your face. You pushed his hands away.

“You have a problem.”

“Oh, I have a problem.” he scoffed.

“You act on impulse, not logic, and that is a problem.” you retorted. 

He turned to the doors of the club, until you stopped him once again, making his gaze snap to yours. 

“No. No way in hell, I’m taking you home.”

“Why?” he asked, annoyed. 

“Because your drunk and I doubt the manager wants you in there anymore. Now get in my car.”

As much as he wanted you to be wrong, you were actually right. And he really, really, didn’t want to deal with law enforcement. 

“Fine.” he sighed out, walking over to your car and getting in the passenger side. 

Me: 1. Colson: 0

As you drove, you let out a sigh in defeat. You did over react. Even if you did have a split lip. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just... don’t want you to get in trouble. I care about you, and I know it might not always seem like it, but I do.” your words tumbled out of your mouth as you saw him look at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Thanks.” he mumbled. 

You gave Kells a few sympathetic looks as he looked out the window of your car, not bothering to say anything else. You couldn’t help but have a twinge of guilt. 

As your car pulled up to Colson’s house, you two awkwardly shuffled inside, Colson quiet. The silence was becoming overbearing. You walked to the kitchen, wetting a paper towel and placing it on your lip at an attempt of cleaning it. 

Colson just stood there, leaning up against the counter, and you could feel his gaze burning in the back of your neck. You turned around and saw him looking at you. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” you motioned, walking up the stairs as Colson begrudgingly followed. 

As you entered his room, you looked around. Christ, it was a mess. Bottles and clothes scattered about. 

“Jeez, at least get a maid,” you smiled at him, trying to be playful. 

Colson’s eyebrows furrowed, “Are you always going to criticize every single thing I do?” 

You looked for his usual twinkle in his eyes when he would say something playful towards you, but his glare was stone cold. 

“Well, I was trying to be nice!” you snapped back. 

“Yeah, for once!” 

“Bite me.” you growled. 

“I just might.” 

He suddenly grabbed you, making you let out a yell of anger. 

“Let me go, jackass!” you squirmed in his grip, but he wasn’t letting up. 

He held you until you calmed down, his body pressed up completely against yours. In a weird way, you felt better. You then realized the position you were in. You took note of his arms... and his hands. You had fantasize about those hands for as long as you could remember. 

You were able to turn around in his grip, and you were now face to face with him. You don’t know why you made your next action, but you did. You hugged him. 

And to your surprise, he hugged you back. Even though his impulsive acts made you angry at times, and he was a bad influence on your cousin in your opinion, you knew that someway, somehow, you had an attraction to the blond boy. 

You pulled away, “I gotta go home.”

“You don’t have to,” he muttered, his pupils blown wide with... lust?

“Colson,” you mumbled in a defeated tone. 

“Don’t go,” you heard him mutter, his lips almost touching yours. 

You were pissed off. He had all this time to make a move, and he’s deciding to do it now!? 

Fuck it.

You kissed him angrily, your hand gripping his shirt tightly as your lips danced with his, making him groan into your mouth. 

You had never acted like this. He was the only person that could make you act out like this. And you fucking loved it. As your senses were over-taken by want and lust, you swiftly unbuttoned his shirt, panting as he detached his lips and slipped your shirt over your head, you jeans some how magically unbuttoned and pulled down. 

You slipped out of everything, leaving the both of you in your underwear. All of his tattoos were on display, and normally you would look at them and admire them, maybe even counting them, but you were too wrapped up in your own scorching need to notice. 

You pulled on his arm, dragging him to the bed and shoving him down on the bed harshly. He wasn’t the only one angry, leaning up and grabbing your throat, reconnecting your lips for another ravenous kiss. 

You took his boxers off, discarding them behind you as you took off your own bra and underwear, pushing him back down, straddling him. Your pussy rubbed up against his hard shaft, making his groan at the contact. 

He suddenly flipped you both over, kissing you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulled off. 

He didn’t even bother to put a condom on. You knew you both wanted it fast, hard, and raw. He suddenly slipped in, making you let out a loud moan as he grunted in pleasure, relying on your slick to act as a lube. 

Soon he stared to angrily pound into you, both of you loving the sounds of the skin contact, Colson leaning down and kissing your neck harshly, sucking, licking, and biting as you heard him whisper deviously degrading words into your ear. 

“You like that huh? Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to take this tight pussy and make it mine?”

All you could do is let out noises of pleasure as he continued on, trust faster and harder with every time your core clenched around him. 

“Fuck-- I-I’m gonna... c-cum,” was all you could let out.

“Go on, babygirl, cum for me. Cum for me and know that I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” he bit your earlobe.

“FUCK!!” you cried out, your core clenching around him as you felt yourself slip into your nirvana, your pussy gushing as you felt your mind go fuzzy. 

Your climax pushed your lover into his own, curses and repeats of your name spilling from his mouth like a prayer. 

As you both calmed down, he laid beside you as you caught your breath. 

“So. You think you like me just a little bit?” Colson asked snidely.

“Shut up, jackass.”

((This isn’t my best writing. Kinda hate it. Might delete it.))

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet ugly asks, 08 with the ot4 if that’s ok? (the note in the locker one, in case I have the wrong number). rating up to you! :)

Here you go! I went NSFW

Joseph is not missing his chance. Not again.

If he’s keeping count, which he’s certainly not, he’s missed fifty-two chances between fifth grade and now.

Barclay’s family moved next door in the summer of 1951, causing eleven year old Joseph to learn very quickly what it’s like to have someone whose side you never want to leave. Lucky for him, Barclay felt the same way; they were in the same boyscout troop, were each others first choice for sleep overs or outings where they were allowed to take one friend. When they hit high school, Barclay went out for football because Joseph did (and Joseph did because that’s what upstanding young men do). They played together all four years, Barclays growth spurt rendering him doubly dangerous on defense and the dominant source of Joseph’s late-night fantasies. Joseph did debate club alone, but Barclay joined him for chess club. And when Barclay bought his car, his first stop was to take Joseph cruising, just the two of them.

Unluckily, Joseph’s never worked up the nerve to tell Barclay how he feels. This may be why he hasn’t had a date since the spring hop two years ago, while Barclay’s had quite a few (cheerleaders and band boys alike can’t seem to resist his physique and general gentleness).

That all changes today. Joseph slipped a note into Barclays locker right before lunch that conveyed all relevant information.

Dear you,

Drive in on Friday? We can park in the back row.

Love,

Joseph.

He’s sitting in his normal spot on the bench near the cafeteria, doing his best impersonation of someone who’s heart isn’t in his throat.

As he’s scanning the crowd, none other than Duck Newton begins weaving his way over to him, leather jacket reflecting the sun and his black hair combed back as always. Joseph was wary of him for years--as any good square is of kids from the rough side of town--until they got paired together in biology their senior year. Duck, who seems not to give a shit about school the rest of the time, is incredibly good at science. And he’s funny, nearly got them both kept after class for cracking a joke that made Joseph lose his breath laughing.

The problem is, right now he’s waving a very familiar piece of paper.

“Gotta say, I’m pretty fuckin flattered, Joe. But, uh” he leans on the table, smiling playfully, “I gotta make sure ‘Drid is okay with me playin backseat bingo with someone who ain’t him.”

“Um.” Joseph shakes his head, trying not to focus on the idea of Duck holding his head in his lap in the dark corner of the drive in, “I, I’m so sorry. I must have been nervous enough to put the note in the wrong locker. Not, not that you’re not a catch.”

Duck raises his eyebrow, “1650 or 1652?”

“1652.”

“Huh. Well, I got shop class with Barclay. You want me to just give it to him?”

“No.” Joseph holds out his hand.

Duck places the letter in it with a shrug, “Suit yourself, slick. See you later.”

Joseph rips the letter to shreds, tosses it in the trash, and hopes that’s the end of this humiliating error.

It’s not.

“Hello, Joseph.” Indrid Cold rests a shoulder on the locker next to his. There’s no one in Kepler High quite like him; his family moved from California three years ago, which most people use as the explanation for Indrid’s red glasses, crystal necklace, and pale hair that is always a quarter-inch shy of the principal writing him up for it. He’s never struck Joseph as the kind to fight, but he did mistakenly proposition his boyfriend three hours ago.

“Indrid. How can I help you?”

The taller boy hands him a folded slip of notebook paper, “By taking me up on this invitation.”

Before Joseph can ask any questions, Indrid is disappearing down the hall. The paper contains a hand drawn map to an X, under which is the word “Bash” but nothing else. Joseph has never been invited to any kind of party that needed a secret map. He mostly just gets invited to get togethers because he’s the captain of the football team. No one talks to him once he’s there. Well, except Barclay.

He stares at the map; he doesn’t have to be home until ten. He’s never going to get a chance to make the scene like this again.

Joseph shuts his locker and hurries to his car.

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

Indrid’s remarkably accurate map leads him to a dirt parking lot beneath the sign for Amnesty Point. As he follows the signs for the “beach house,” a Coaster’s song drifts through the air, underscored by splashes from the lake to his right. He’s deep in the woods on the wrong side of the tracks, but even so he’s unprepared for how everyone lounging around the weathered picnic tables on a shaded patio stops talking and stares at him.

“Who the fuck invited the square?” Someone whispers, making him wish he hadn’t left the map in the car.

“Joseph?”

He turns so fast the gravel flies. Barclay, clad in a grease-stained apron, is smiling so bright it evaporates his nervousness.

“Hi, big guy.”

His friend hoists him in a hug, “I’m so glad you’re here, Indrid said he invited you but I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“He piqued my curiosity. Um, is this the new job you were so cagey about?”

“Yep. Mama--she runs this place--pays real well, but tries to keep Amnesty Point kinda secret. Cops just love busting places like this up for no reason.”

Joseph nods, still a little hurt Barclay didn’t trust him enough to share where he worked. His friend must notice the dip in his smile before he hides it, because he adds, “It’s gonna be even better working here now that you know where to find me. Listen, um, I gotta get back before Jake sets something on fire, but the burger stand closes at eight. I’ll come find you after that. Duck and Indrid are down by the dock, if you want company.”

He absolutely does, since the alternative is looking even more out of place by being the only person here alone.

When he hits the grey sand, Duck is just pulling himself back onto dry land. The half moon scars on his chest are the only reminders of the trip he took to San Francisco last summer.

“Glad you showed up, slick. Day like this, the water is the only nice place to be.”

“I wish I’d known, I would have brought my swim shorts.” Maybe if he rolls up his pant legs he can get some relief from the heat…

“Could just go in your boxers. I won’t tell.” Duck winks.

“Nothing is also allowed.” Indrid lilts, floating past on his back.

Joseph looks at him, then at the planks of the dock because Indrid is also demonstrating that second option without a care.

Duck snickers, “sugar, put somethin on, you’re scandalizin’ the poor guy.”

“Very well. But I demand help with the sunblock in payment for quashing my self-expression this way.”

“You’re soundin like your pops there, ‘Drid.”

“....ugh, you’re right.” A splash and the soft fwup of a towel, “alright, Joseph, I’m decent.” He is, but his swim shorts leave very little to the imagination. Joseph stares a moment too long, notices Duck smirking when he looks away.

The greaser holds out a bottle of sunblock and they get to work.

“Goddamn, this wouldn’t take so long if you weren’t so fuckin long everywhere.”

“You’ve never complained about that before.” Indrid grins, red sunglasses hiding his eyes. He doesn’t lift a finger to help them, but Duck seems to get a kick from it. Joseph wonders if he spoils Indrid like this in everything they do. If Indrid ever does it back.

(If either of them would do it for him).

They spend the evening talking, Duck skipping stones and Indrid sunning himself while Joseph dangles his legs in the water. When they get back to the beach house Joseph receives fewer stares, Duck and Indrid’s company substituting for cool. He and Duck get a real dinner, but Indrid opts to down three Cokes in place of a meal.

When Barclay closes up shop, he’s immediately at Joseph’s side. Joseph is about to suggest they all go for a walk when Indrid winks at Barclay and steers Duck towards the trees with a promise to see Joseph at school tomorrow.

“You get on okay while I was working?” Barclay starts them on a path towards the edge of the point.

“I did. It was actually really nice just to spend time talking with people who like me. Or at least don’t hate me enough to shove me in the water fully clothed.”

“Nah, they’re not those kind of guys. Hell, it was their idea to invite you here. I was, uh, I was too shy.”

He stops, turning to face Barclay, “what do mean?”

“Duck told me about the note.”

“Oh lord.”

“Not on purpose, he just mentioned he’d seen you and when I asked how you were doing, well, you know he can’t lie for shit. So Indrid suggested we invite you out here.”

“Out of pity?”

“No.” Barclay frowns, sets his hands on Joseph’s shoulders, “Joseph, why didn’t you just ask me out in person?”

“I was too nervous. I thought it might ruin everything.”

“Not a chance, blue eyes.” Barclay rumbles. Then he’s kissing him, gentle and slow, whimpering when Joseph kisses back and cups his face. When they part, he’s certain there’s nothing but air under his feet.

“Can we do that again?”

“Not tonight. Your curfew is still ten.”

“Shit, you’re right, if I don’t get on the road I’ll be late.”

“Lemme walk you to your car. I gotta hang around since I’m Indrid and Duck’s ride home tonight.”

“Do you want to go get them so we can all leave together?”

Barclay chuckles, tips his head towards the woods where a faint, rhythmic grunting cane be heard.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, not gonna ruin their fun.” He pulls Joseph into a much more heated kiss, then sighs, “get home safe, blue eyes.”

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

Joseph suffered through both the personal hygiene class at school and his father’s lecture on what to expect now that he was truly a man. But nothing in either of those taught him what to do if he’s so hot under the collar he can’t focus but the guy who’s causing it won’t just fuck him.

He and Barclay have gone out every Friday for the last month, steaming up the car windows with their kissing sessions. They tried to work out who was supposed to give who their varsity jacket and settled on just trading, Joseph smiling whenever he spots Barclays name on his back. And Barclay tells everyone Joseph is his boyfriend with a level of pride he never gave their state football wins.

But he won’t go all the way with him. One Sunday afternoon they were listening to records in Barclays room when the larger boy rolled across the rug to straddle Joseph. His hands were hot and a little rough on his cock, Joseph moaning into his mouth as he came in under a minute. Before he could reciprocate, the front door banged open, announcing the return of Barclay’s parents. His boyfriend told him not to worry about it and kissed him on the cheek.

He’s worried Barclay loves him but doesn’t want him. He’s worried that if he ever does, Joseph will embarrass himself, be so inexperienced and inelegant he’ll turn him off forever. He wonders if he can entice Barclay to ask him to fuck so he doesn’t have to admit the embarssing intensity of his desire.

“Duck? Do you, um, do you think I’d look better if I dressed like you?”

The greaser looks up from his notes, “Maybe? I mean, I dress like this because I dig it. You wanna try it, go wild.”

Joseph nods, intending to drop it. Instead, he slows his stride by Duck during their laps in gym.

“It’s just, I’m worried I’m too square for anyone to be really into me.”

“Joe, what the fuck is this about?”

“Newton, I heard that! That’s an extra lap.”

“Son of uh, hold on, are you worried about Barclay? Because he’s so into your goody-goody thing I’m surprised he ain’t asked you to fuck him with your report card.”

“Stern, you’re done, get off the track!”

He jogs to the bleachers, Duck’s words rattling around long after he’s hit the locker room.

“You’re really worried about this, ain’t you? You’re smart, slick, but I swear sometimes you can’t see what’s right in front of you.” Duck is behind him, still in his gym clothes while Joseph is half changed out of them. They’re both dawdling, the locker room empty save for some other stragglers near the bathroom.

“Duck, if I were in high demand, I’d be getting more, um, attention than I-”

His sentence is cut short by Duck yanking him down into a kiss, lips salty with sweat and so demanding Joseph wants to get on his knees.

Duck pulls back, pats his cheek, “Like I said; right in front of you.”

With that he waves and leaves the room the back way. Joseph can’t even be mad for cutting school; right now, he’s almost ready to follow him.

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

“I really must thank you again.” Indrid clears the low table of his math notes, “my focus is such that I struggle with math much more than I’d like. Having someone sit and walk me through it in a calm setting helps a great deal.”

“I’m always happy. Barclay can too, if you ever can’t get a hold of me.”

“Oh, I know he can. He helped me last year.” Indrid stretches his legs; they’re on the floor of his VW Westfalia. His parents let him live in it on the property behind their one-story house as long as he continues to be a cooperative member of the household.

“I didn’t know that.”

“It was only a few times, though he often lingered when we were through.” Indrid’s emphasis makes Joseph blush.

“Duck and I weren’t going steady yet. And my cocksucking skills are not the stuff of legend for nothing.” Indrid smiles, dreamily.

“Oh. Um.” Joseph shifts his notebook into his lap.

Indrid sits up straighter, “I apologize. I, ah, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not sure that’s what this is.”

Indrid cocks his head, “No? Envy perhaps? After all, you’ve had years to dream about him, to hope you’d be the first, and here comes a skinny little freak from the coast to beat you to it.”

“You’re not a freak” Joseph says softly, “I, I can’t say I blame Barclay for taking you up on it.”

“He does have excellent taste” Indrid looks pointedly over his glasses at him. The heat under his skin doubles as Indrid crawls forward, “you know, Duck and I have an...understanding. But if you and Barclay do not, I can stop. I mean, I can stop regardless, if you don’t want this.” He lowers to his belly between Joseph’s legs, nuzzles his fly with a hum.

“I, I--ohlord” He moans when Indrid mouths at his slacks; he’s getting hard, if he had his way he’d lay down and let Indrid suck him off until he came on his glasses. But he knows he won’t enjoy it if he isn’t sure how Barclay feels.

“I, we should stop. Please.”

Indrid sits up, smiling, “Of course. Would you like to stay for dinner? My mother is making fish stew instead of tofu salad for once.”

“...I’d love to.”

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

“I didn’t know Amnesty owned all this.” Joseph let’s Barclay guide him through the trees.

“Yeah, Mama’s family bought it years ago and she’s hung onto it through some seriously nasty shit. Hah, there they are.” Barclay waves to Duck and Indrid, resting against each other on a massive, checkered blanket. His boyfriend sets the picnic basket down and then, confusingly, turns off the lantern Duck brought.

“Okay, baby, there’s something I’ve got to ask” Barclay looks at him, “do you think I don’t wanna make it with you?”

“Truthfully? Yes. You, you’ve barely gone beyond some heavy petting, meanwhile Indrid was offering to blow me.” He slaps a hand over his mouth; there go all three of these relationships.

Barclay shrugs, “He told me about that.”

“Honesty is important. Most of the time.” Indrid grins.

“Blue eyes, I’m crazy about you. I’ve just been going slow because I was afraid I’d stress you out. I know how you get, Joseph. You put so much pressure on yourself to do everything right, I was worried you’d try so hard to be perfect for me that you wouldn’t enjoy it at all.”

Joseph stares into deep brown eyes, eyes he’s loved since he was a boy. Then he laughs softly, rests his head on Barclay’s shoulder, “You really do know me well, you know that.”

“Oh, oh baby” Barclay holds him closer, “you really think there was a way of touching me that’d disappoint me? Fuck, just getting to kiss you makes me the happiest guy in the state.”

“That being said” Duck drawls, “aint there somethin about practice makin perfect?”

“I, are, is this really what you three want?”

“Yes” Indrid nods, “but if you don’t, well, we shall never speak of it again.”

“I do. Sweet fucking christ I do.” He kisses Barclay ferociously as the other two scoot closer.

“Hmm, I believe we should let seniority decide. Barclay, what’s your preference?”

His boyfriend pulls back, kissing his jaw, “Do you wanna blow me, blue eyes?”

“So badly.”

“That settles that. Duck, what about--ah, I see you’re already taking off your pants, so I guess you’re fucking hm. He’s fucking you? Ah, semantics.” Indrid waves his hand dismissively.

“Wait, does, do we have a rubber?”

Duck pulls one from his wallet, “never leave to see this one without one. I know how he is.”

Indrid pecks his cheek, then grins, “I believe, Joseph, that leaves me to help you with your hand jobs.”

“Fuck, yes.”

“On your back, baby.” Barclays nudges him and he falls onto the blanket. For a moment only the trees and stars look down on him; then Barclays face fills his vision as his hands open his fly and guide his cock out.

“AHshit, shit that’s good.” He bucks as his boyfriend jerks him off steadily, his cock standing at attention in a matter of seconds.

“Okay big fella, you go get your dick sucked.” Duck straddles him. He’s down to only his undershirt, his muscular thighs, soft belly, and strong arms on full displays as he rolls the condom down.

“You’re so handsome” Joseph sighs.

Duck seems to blush, “Thanks, slick. Not bad yourself.”

“I mean it, really, you’re incredible” he paws his legs, grabs his shirt and pulls him down into the kiss. Duck giggles into his mouth, then sinks down onto his cock. Joseph decides he is never, never letting go of the man above him; his weight is so comforting, his body so perfect, the way his laughs morph into moans so charming.

“G-great thing about this position” Duck gasps, “is you don’t gotta do much besides let me ride you. That’s why it’s ‘Drid’s favorite.”

“Second favorite; you on my face is my first. Speaking of which” he kneels, gently lifts Joseph’s head into his hands while Barclay sits cross-legged on the other side of his head. His cock is thick and long, so mouthwatering Joseph opens his mouth without being told.

“Fuck, baby, wanted this so long.” Barclay guides his cock between his lips when Indrid turns his head. The skinnier man keeps supporting him as his tongue registers skin, sweat, Barclay and he whines for more.

“Easy, blue eyes, fuck, you’re doing great.”

“I’ll say. Fuck, can’t believe you been keepin this dick all to yourself, Joe.”

“I got my haAAnds on it once.”

“Clearly you should have done it more” Indrid purrs, hips moving slightly, “as soon as someone plays with it, he sucks cock very nicely.”

“No fuckin kiddin. Baby, baby, yeah, suck like that.”

Indrid shifts behind him, “Barclay, hold him a moment, there’s been a change of plans.” A zipper goes as Barclay cradles him. Then Indrid’s fingers are back, turning him to face a second, narrower cock.

“Handjobs can wait.” Indrid pulls him forward, moaning high when he sucks the head, “oooh, yes, that’s it.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna fuckin combust watchin you do that.” Duck bounces more deliberately and Joseph yelps joyfully around Indrid’s cock. He’s already close to cumming, the feeling of Duck around him and Indrid inside him flooding the rest of him with pleasure.

Indrid pulls his head back, starts to turn him towards Barclays, when it punches through him. He moans, pushes up into Duck as the shorter man laughs.

“I, I came first, I’m sorry, this is one of the things-”

“Shush” Barclay helps him up as Duck climbs of him, “that was fucking incredible, and you’re not done yet.”

“On your knees, facing us. Unless, sweetheart, do you-”

Duck’s hand is already between his legs, “I’m gonna enjoy the show.”

“Mmm, which means I get to enjoy you enjoying it. Barclay, turn slightly, like this.”

“Why, oh, oh I got it, fuck, you’re a fucking genius.”

Joseph agrees, though he’s going a bit cross-eyed. So he closes them, lets first Indrid and then Barclay press their cock into his mouth. It’s a stretch, his jaw aching instantly, but it’s the best he’s ever felt. They can’t push more than the heads in, so he concentrates on sucking and licking, pre-cum collecting on his tongue and spit seeping down his chin. Duck grunts behind him, offering running commentary on Indrid’s appearance and Joseph's voice. Barclay shoves both hands into his hair while Indrid keeps one on his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, Joseph, baby, this is fucking aces, gonna paint your whole fucking stomach white.”

“Ahnnn, agreed” Indrid pants, “your mouth was made for this, ohyes, that’s it, mmm, this is even better, feeling your cock against mine dearest, oh, oh” Indrid cums, bitterness hitting his tongue, and when he tries to swallow he gasps and gags instead.

“Fuck” Barclay grunts and then another burst of cum fills his mouth. He gasps for air as they pull out, sending some down his chin. He wipes ineffectively at it with the back of his hand.

“Here” Duck, underwear back on, cleans his lips with a napkin.

“Th-thank you.”

“Of course.” Duck kisses him as Indrid flops on his belly and Barclay curls his arms around Joseph.

“Gotta say, blue eyes, don’t think you got anything to worry about when it comes to making it good for me. Or, uh, us.”

“No, I don’t think I do.” Joseph rests against him, then jolts up, “shit, what time is it?”

“Ten.”

“Shit!”

“Don’t worry” Indrid nestles next to his knees, “we’ll say I had car trouble and you two came to my aid.”

Joseph relaxes back among his boyfriends, “Good call. Just, um, don’t let Duck talk?”

“Only if I get an extra kiss for keepin my mouth shut.”

“Deal.”

[al3x1ss]

Bring them to your home for the holidays {HCs}

Includes: Oikawa, Akaashi, Noya, Terushima, Kiyoko

THIS IS WRITTEN WITH A FEMALE READER! ALSO, ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!

Author’s note: In my family, thanksgiving means the Christmas stuff is put up after breakfast, so I got this idea ab the holidays and I got v happy. Enjoy!

Warnings: None, fluffy holidays for y’all!

Oikawa

okay mans HATES the cold confirmed

like snow comes he’ll probably hiss

(HISSING AT SNOW ME HONESTLY LMAO)

(Not me seeing a few feet of snow with my sisters and going “wow look at all that cocaine”)

ANYWAY

so y’all met when both of you happened to be in Brazil and he thought you were cute

long story short you had a few dinner dates, even hung out with Hinata!!

you guys hit it off very well :)

so you guys have been together for about 2 years and you’re like ya know what

“Come to my house for the holidays :)”

not only is this man a simp but he loves the warmth so ofc he says yes!!

so while you’ve lived here all your life, only really moving out of Tampa to Miami, you did have to take this tourist him to a basic spot

but you did want to take him to some of your favorite places

after him seeing your family again, you took him to one of your favorite carnivals!

then classic gotta go to the beach I mean

why not go to the ocean!!

issue with December weather in Florida is it changes every second so today was a bit C H I L L E D

(You did have to force him to eat something other than rice tho)

Picky eater kawa confirmed

what better way to spend December 25th than Disney

I mean

Mans whole went “wow 😍” when you told him

Kiyoko

BEST WOMAN I LOVE WOMEN

ahem

you were an exchange student during her whole high school career, turning into best friends and deciding to go to college together

college came along, and with the help of a few friends, parties, and a little too much twister, you realized

you were actually lesbian.

which you know what, we support!

it’s not like you’ve never liked a boy, it just happened to be that women were more your type

oh yeah another thing

Kiyoko is the prettiest thing in your eyes.

OH ANOTHER ANOTHER THING

HAVE I MENTIONED YOU REALIZED THAT YOU’VE ACTUALLY LIKED HER SINCE YOUR 1ST YEAR IN COLLEGE

NO?

OKAY.

so what you DONT know is that Kiyoko has realized she actually feels the same

during your third year in college, she had broken up with her boyfriend of a year, Tanaka, but never told you why

Huh

i wONdEr whY

But, after living in Japan for 7 years, Christmas time is rolling around once again

And you are going home for the holidays!

usually you would go home during summer break, but this time you really wanted to spend Christmas since your older brother had your niece!

and since Kiyo didn’t have any plans you were like

“hey, do you want to come home with me?”

home girl choked on her water 😳

“H-home?”

“Yeah! I’m going back to New Orleans for the holidays.”

cue brain calming down and like sLIGHT disappointment

but

it’s you

and she loves you.

HANGING OUT WITH YOU SORRY

so you guys did presents and stuff

your niece LOVES Kiyoko btw

your dad was like “👀”

I SEE YOU YOU SEE ME MAn

been knew you were 💅AND HE SUPPORTS

so around 4 you’re like let’s go do something!!

and she says okay!!

so one movie Kiyoko really loved was “Princess and the Frog”

Funny enough there’s actually a bakery you’ve gone too growing up

so you get New Orleans’ best beignets!

Ahh, fun times

next, you’ll always hear some type of caroling anywhere you are in the city

which means?

SMALL PARTIES

DANCING

FUN TIMES

you see random groups of people smiling around 7pm, the sun already down

and you’re thinking to yourself

Hey

I want to ask her to dance.

and you do :)

YALL BUST D O W N LIKE YES MAAMS

continuing

Finally at around 10pm you take her to this one street where each place has a bunch of Christmas wonderlands lit up

hile it doesn’t really snow in New Orleans, people used fake snow!!

gotta get that spirit somehow 😗

when I say Kiyoko is a goddess I mean it

the lights bouncing off her face while she’s smiling?

*chefs kiss*

Terushima

ah yes the city that everyone thinks is a state

IM SORRY J

BUT IM NOT EHDJFJHH

So

Chicago!! ✨

Terushima HAS visited Illinois before

However, surprisingly has never been to Chicago

So you were like

I’m born here!! 🥰

Come come!!🥺

And he said

Si si!! 🤪

so y’all flew out on the 20th

while your parents don’t live here, some old friends do

and why not have them meet your amazing boyfriend!

literally all of them were shocked I mean

(Y/N) likes a boy with a tongue piercing?

wack

the amount of BONKERS

but yes you love him very much

and he loves you!!

honestly your friends already fell in love with you two being in love it’s canon

afterwards you guys went too ZooLights

HE HAD THE AUDACITY TO THROW A SNOWBALL AT YOU

“YUJI MY PANTS ARE WET”

“IM SORRY PRINCESS IT WAS JUST A GOOD TIMING-“

you threw one at his face

Not y’all fighting like little kids-

n e wayz

best way to end the 24th?

ice skating-

nope.

It’s actually buying late presents because you two actually forgot to get some people presents and Christmas is literally in like 4 hours!!

YOU COULDNT CATCH YUJI IF YOU TRIED😳

MANS WAS ZOOMIN THROUGH EVERY STORE

GRANDMA? GOT IT

UNCLE? SURE

NEPHEW? YOU DONT EVEN GOT A NEPHEW

It was mega fun tho

surprisingly y’all didn’t get kicked out

you almost did when Terushima thought it would be a good idea to ride a skateboard into the electronics section at target 🤡

but we will ignore that for tonight ❤️

Akaashi

A NOTE:

this one will be the longest one with the most detail for certain reasons! also, for akaashi’s you do have a given birthday because Dec 30th is actually my birthday and I wanted to sprinkle in some of that ❤️

alright

best for last :)

So you got to be in an exchange program during college

and that’s when you met akaashi since you guys were in the same classes!

he also showed you around and was very sweet

so you offered to get him coffee

and after a while he confessed by giving you a copy of a book you both really loved

but

you semester was ending

which means home for the holidays

luckily, you guys would only have one more semester away from eachother before you guys graduated

but you did want to spend the holidays together

so you offered for him to come to New York with you

boy got excited so fast my heart-

wOOSH FOR THIS MAN

But like Christmas in New York with your loving boyfriend of 4 years?

Sign me up

So you know that during winter it’s a hit or miss with snow

is it still freezing cold?

Yes.

But can we guarantee 3 feet of snow every December?

No.

But we can guarantee it in like March JEJHRTJ

so

one thing you told him immediately was that you guys will be watching the ball drop from the roof

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to get mugged, shoved, or vomit on my shoes, Keiji.”

Yes ma’am indeed

so you guys had a pretty (quiet?) Christmas

your family?

LOUD AS CAN BE

but

Regarding to going places

You guys chilled all day in pajamas

Like the most y’all did was go to dunkin for hot chocolate

but the days leading to New Years?

GOTTA GO GO GO

Classic tree photo yes ma’am

nut crackers AND THOSE GIANT CHRISTMAS LIGHTS AND ORNAMENTS ACROSS FROM JIMMY FALLONS STUDIO?

Y’ALL KNOW THE STREET I FORGET THE STREET LMAO

bro side note their kabobs in that one corner

best thing I’ve ever had I stg

I haven’t been to the city since last Christmas wow now I miss it

OKAY NVM SORRY

you wanted to show Keiji so many things

but

You were used to walking like 10 blocks in any shoes as fast as you can

Akaashi was not 😂

So y’all had to take breaks sometimes

get him warmed and fed ya know

give the man smoochies 🥺

id be giving him smoochies 24/7 if I could

so you better for me 😠

His favorite place was the big Macy’s no lie

the perfumes and cologne section on the 2nd floor looked SO WELL PUT TOGETHER

okay nvm scratch that

FAO Schwartz was his favorite place

he loved the trains

you bought him a train as a late present SHH NO ONE SAY NOTHIN

So the 29th you decided to take him to where you were born

Brooklyn!

it was super fun showing him where you lived before you went to college

and before your siblings moved to different parts of the city

It was lovely

But the final thing you wanted to do was December 30th

your birthday :)

and one thing you absolutely love to do is ice skating

now usually you go ice skating at the public rink like a few minutes away from Rockefeller rink

not only was it cheaper, but there was a Panera like 2 blocks away so quick food!

but

you also wanted to give Keiji the experience

so you sucked it up and paid

you guys went at around 8 and had a blast

one of the best birthdays with him honestly

but, you realized people were starting to exit the rink at around 10

“Doesn’t the rink close at midnight?”

“Huh, weird.”

but Keiji kind of starts looking around while you realize you two are the only ones on the ice

So you’re like

I guess we have to get off 😔

But this sly fox

Pulls you to the center of the rink

Now, you were never one for the cliché act

Especially since so many proposals have happened on this rink that you’ve seen

But when you saw Keiji get to one knee

It didn’t even matter that this happened to so many other people

It was happening to you.

And it’s ESPECIALLY CLICHE

THAT IT WAS ON YOUR BIRTHDAY

however

I guess you can just suck it up, cuz at least you have a ring on your finger :)

- Lex 🖤🤍

End note: Let me know if you guys would like a part 2! Also if you have any ideas for a certain character or place, put it in asks!

[kimberly-spirits13]

Bat Pranks and Gun Fights (Request)

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: (Reader is like Deadpool) For a month you had been trying to prank Batman with your best friend Jason. The task was easier said than done but one night, you finally get the chance but halfway through the night, you get interrupted by a more serious matter.

Warnings: Language, mentions of getting shot but not anything graphic at all, also at the end there is some mention of some stronger pain killers that eventually cause the reader to fall asleep really quickly so if that bothers anyone just FYI it’s there

Word Count: 2502

           As an antihero, you did what you saw right. You knew the law, you follow the law... mostly... but besides that, the point of your job is to find loopholes and ways to go about your business technically not breaking the law. Another added to that is that you also go around annoying those who are very precise about following the law as best they can. Take Batman for instance, one of the most terrifying and iconic heroes you knew, lived just outside your base city of New York. That’s where you and Jason worked most of the time if he wasn’t in Gotham anyways. The Batman was someone to be feared, someone to be honored. You on the other hand had heard the stories of what he had done to Jason and thought he was an old grumpy asshole that needed to be taught a lesson.

           So, for the entire month that’s what you tried to do. All you were really doing was prank Batman in a harmless way so that you wouldn’t be thrown off a building but every time you got close, something happened. Now you were suiting up in your apartment ready for another night of crime fighting. Tonight was your night to prank the Batman. You were heading out to Gotham and meeting up with Jason for the bust. After a few minutes, you found yourself hopping onto your motorcycle and heading down the interstate down towards Gotham. __________________________________________

 It seemed like no time had really passed by since you were on the interstate and now riding with Jason to where Bruce would be.

           “So, any other plans tonight other than possibly being thrown off a building by the old man?” Jason asked.

           “No, not really.” You replied on the headset of your helmet, “I’ve been tracking a group of people that are smuggling contraband into the US through the Hudson River. It’s weapons like guns and a shit ton of modified explosives.” “You know, the usual.”

           Jason laughed some before making a sharp turn into an alley. You did the same, stopping behind his bike and putting the kickstand down. The important thing about keeping your bike in some random alley way was making sure no one could steal it. That was what your codes and finger print was for. That thing wasn’t moving but for only yours and one other person’s finger print ID. You hadn’t revealed who that other person was.

           “So, what’s the plan?” He asked.

           “I figure until he catches us, something simple like making his smoke shields go off randomly.” You answered shrugging.          

           “Oh come on, that would be lame.” Jason side eyed you, “The demon could do better.”

           “Not if we did it in front of Gordon.” You smiled, a glint of mischief glazing over your eyes, “I mean just imagine the commissioner giving a rundown of some serious crime happening and suddenly Batman starts smoking from behind.” “The look on his face would be hilarious.”

           “You’re not wrong.” Jason thought about it for a second, “Okay, until we get caught he escalate more and more in what we do. But for now, this sounds like it could be fun.”

           You smiled at the look on Jason’s face. Whenever he took off his helmet, his hair would always swoosh over. You liked how it looked, just not really how it smelled when it got really sweaty. You always made a face when he did and sometimes would spray a flowery perfume that you got as a joke in his hair to improve on the smell. It’s not like he would do anything to you for it but maybe jokingly flip you off.

           The two of you climbed up onto the building where Gordon and Batman typically meet. Lucky for you, tonight was a full moon as you liked to call it since you really couldn’t see the moon that well in Gotham with all of the pollution and possible rain clouds. A full moon here meant that the Bat-signal was up and running. There was something big going on somewhere and Batman had to be notified.

           As you reached the top, you and Jason ducked behind a cover spot on the building closest to where Gordon was waiting.

           “Move over, I’m in the open Hood!” You hissed nudging his side.

           “I can’t move over or I’ll be open too.”

           You huffed and looked at the height of what you were trying to hide behind.

           “Fine then.” In order to solve this dilemma, you laid on top of Jason. You were both facing the same direction, you were just stacked. You laid your chin on his helmet some and smirked down at him. You couldn’t see the look on your face, but judging by his change in position, you could tell he wasn’t expecting that.

           “What the hell are you doing?” He asked.

           “Fixing the issue. Anyways, why are you so tall? My feet hardly touch yours.”

           Jason sighed, “Maybe it’s cause I’m not short like somebody here.”

           “I’m not short!” You demanded, “You’re just a giant Jason.”

__________________________________________

           Time passed and you two were getting tired of the pranks that were being played on the Bat. You were pretty positive he was tired of it too. You weren’t doing anything to get anyone killed, just to cause minor annoyances. It was funny to watch, but now your mind was drifting elsewhere. You wondered what Jason thought when you climbed onto him. It wasn’t like you were doing something to get anything started, you were just curious what he thought of you. You thought that maybe there was a chance that he possibly liked you back.

           Your thoughts would have consumed you longer if you weren’t alerted by your tracker on the smugglers. At the sight of what you were seeing, your eyes widened.            “I’ve gotta go.” You said jumping up from next to Jason.

           “What is it?”

           “The targets have almost reached the docks. If I go now, I can make it and stop them.”

           “Do you even know what you’re walking into?” Jason asked.

           “I have somewhat of an idea.” You lied a tiny bit knowing that there could be more than you originally planned, “I’ll be fine.”

           “You’d better be.” He was quick to say, “Don’t go getting yourself killed tonight. Trust me when I say it isn’t fun.”            “Yes, yes, I’ve got that part.” You rolled your eyes, “Anyways, I’ll call you when I’m done with this party.”

__________________________________________

           Now you were at the docks. It was colder than you’d expected with the breeze coming in and reinforcements were waiting for the cargo load. You would have to strike fast for this to work. The one problem was you didn’t know how that would play out. Dropping from your hiding place, you crept up behind one of the guards on the outer rim of security. With a sword in hand, you took him out.

           “Oops, didn’t see you there buddy.” You smirked some and moved onto the next one. It was an easy job so far. The security was terrible on the rims as you’d imagine and no one was raising any sort of alarm.

           After finishing this part, you climbed back up to see that there were even more heavily armed men aboard the ship than you had ever anticipated.

           “No big deal.” You mumbled, “Just like all the times before. Crack a few jokes, kill a few idiots, and at the end, blow some stuff up. It’s just what you do now a days.”

           Time was ticking and the slot for best entry was getting smaller and smaller. You looked around once more and then dropped to the ground when the shipments were on the docks so that they couldn’t be moved after the boat caught flames from the devices you’d planted around it.

           “Hey boys. I hope you don’t mind but, I saw you were having a moving in party and wanted to drop by and give a house warming gift. Well, then again, I guess catching the boat on fire wasn’t the best gift, but it certainly did the job well.” You smirked taking the approaching ones out and avoiding the flying bullets.

           You only slowed down just a bit when one slightly grazed your arm, “Okay, who did that?” “This was a brand -new suit and I did not want it damaged tonight.” “God, who taught you manners? A fish?”

           It was all running well again. The advisories were being taken out, weapons were being destroyed and... you looked up to see one of the crates of explosives. If you wanted to, you could light that baby up and let it do your job for you. The issue was making it out on time without any other survivors. You didn’t need any lose ends on this mission. There was a moment of pause before someone called out your name.

           “Y/S/H/N, need any help?” You looked behind you to see Jason shooting at some guys.

           “What are you doing here Hood?” You looked almost a little too shocked to see him, you really were a bit too shocked to see him.

           “Got a bad feeling and figured you might need back up at some point. Not saying you’re not capable, just watching out.” He explained loading in another magazine.

           “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You looked back up at the crate, “Say there is one thing you could do though.”

           “And that is?”

           “Cover me while I go take out whoever is hording that massive crate of explosives.”

           You didn’t give him any time to protest on your actions. It was always unclear to you why he was so protective of you in those regards but no one else. It wasn’t like you were his significant other or something. That is, no matter how much you wanted to be.

           “You had no business coming here tonight.” Some taller man said shooting at you.

           “Neither did you but I guess we both found some.” You retorted firing back as well.

           “If you’re here for information, you won’t ever get it.”

           “Trust me buddy, I have all of the information I need.” “You’re not really a hard group to track.” Rolling your eyes, you shot the man in the arm, making him cry out in pain, “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

           “Not if I detonate these.” He gave you a look like no other you’d really seen before.

           Sometimes you’d meet people that had fairly evil motives. Other times it was just the run of the mill henchmen. But sometimes, like just on these missions, you’d come across a group or one singular person that was so dedicated to a cause or leader, they’d rather die themselves with what they were hiding than give it up. Those people were some of the scariest.

           “Hood get out of here!” You said into the coms.

           “What’s going on up there?”

           “I’m about to try and stop this guy from taking the docks out.” You answered grimly knowing that this wouldn’t end well for either you nor the man in question.

           “What are you crazy?” Jason yelled.

           “maybe.”

           You jumped over the crate to where the man was and shot him down before looking over at the count down. There wasn’t much time before it set off. You quickly started typing codes that you had picked up into the device. It wasn’t until after a few seconds that you noticed how close the time was getting. Sighing, you knew the only thing to do was leave. You turned around, not seeing the last remaining henchmen behind you and was shot in the side. The moment Jason registered what was going on, he shot the man who was now aiming at him and jumped onto the boat to grab you. That was when he noticed the spot on your arm as well as your bleeding side.

           There were less than 10 seconds on the clock. Jason ran as fast as he could when the explosion went off. It sent him stumbling to the ground since he was a decent distance, that stumble didn’t help you though. You were sure you hadn’t been hit anywhere super important, it just hurt, a lot.

           “Come on Y/N/N, stay with me.” He went to your bike which was the only one there since he zeta beamed to New York.

           He was in too much of a rush to remember that your bike needed finger print ID to start going. With you straddling him so he could make sure you didn’t fall off, he cursed under his breath.

           “I know you’re not going to like this, but I need you to get the bike going.” He said to you.

           “You can do it.” You groaned.

           “No, I need your ID fo-“ He stopped when you cut him off.

           “I told you, you can do it.”

           That was when he realized what you meant and started up the bike himself with his own ID. He smiled at the gesture. Maybe you really did trust him enough. Maybe you actually felt the same about him as he did you.

__________________________________________

           High on pain killers you sat on your bathtub ledge getting stitches from Jason while draped over him for support. He was pretty sure you would either start ranting about something extremely random that he might be able to use for blackmail, or you’d start snoring. Either one was fine to him as long as you didn’t stop breathing. That was when there would be issues.

           “Jaybird, you know I really like you right?” You asked making his cheeks heat up.

           “I didn’t know that.” He had to clear his throat.

           “Yeah, I’ve always thought you looked really nice. Then I got to know you and now you’re even better.”

           “Well what if I told you I liked you a lot too?” Jason asked smiling at what you had said.

           You sat up and looked at him quickly, “Really?”

           “Yes, and don’t rip out your stitches. I don’t want to put them back in.”

           “Well if you really liked me, you’d kiss me like what they do in the movies.” You smirked some at Jason.

           “What kind of movies have you been watching recently.” He scrunched up his nose faking a look of disgust.

           “Jason Peter Todd, I mean it.”

           Jason gave your stiches a once over before pulling you into a kiss. You could feel him smiling into the kiss before pulling away.

           “What else do they do in movies?” He asked.

           There was no response.

           “Y/N? ...Doll?” Jason looked down to see you asleep sitting up, whatever Alfred had recommended, it worked because you were out like a light.

           He laughed and carried you into your room, tucking you in. He went to go sleep in the living room but stopped when your hand didn’t let go of his. Jason sighed holding in a chuckle before changing into his own night clothes and climbing in next to you.

I hope you guys liked this one. I know it’s a bit longer but I really liked the request and things just kept coming to mind of what to add to it. I’ve got something big coming for a fic unless I scrap it. It’ll be long and Idk when I’ll finish it, but you’ll know when it gets here. Anyways, I hope you’re all having a wonderful day and week and continue to have a great one. Stay safe and healthy and make sure to take care of yourself when you need it.

[fangirl-writes]

Home Sick

70s!Roger x Reader x Ben

Warning(s): Swearing, mentions of sex, Roger being a little shit

Notes: How does this universe work, you ask. Shhhh, I tell you, just let us live in fantasy land. Aka I watched BoRhap again and I'm a sucker for Rog and Ben. Also very inspired by @strangeandwonderfulconcepts​ ‘s versions of this couple. I feel like it’s kind of all over the place, though.

Summary: Ben's away for filming and you're left at home with Roger who's working on Queen's new album and annoying you.

“Roger Taylor, I swear to God!”

Ben bit his lip as a smile spread across his lips, trying not to laugh at your outburst. He was sat in his hotel room, phone pressed to his ear, enjoying the small amount of downtime he had before filming resumed the next day. “What’s he done now?”

“He keeps poking me in the ass with his drumsticks. Oh!” You (who was back at Roger’s mansion in Surrey) cried out again. “Roger I will throw this lamp at you!”

Ben heard Roger’s muffled reply in the background. He could picture the mischievous grin on his face.

“Oh, so the lamp’s important but that TV you threw out the window- it is not different!”

Ben couldn’t stop smiling. The bickering was a little childish and silly, but it warmed Ben’s heart to hear the two people he loved the most bicker about nothing.

“And put that damn cigarette out! You’ll burn the house down with that nasty habit.” 

Ben could tell Roger was right next to you now as he said. “Ben thinks it’s sexy. Don’t you, Ben?”

“Yeah, well, Ben also thinks you look sexy in leopard print.”

“Hey!”

Ben couldn’t hold back his laughter now.

Both you and Roger were smiling at his laugh on the other end, playfully shoving each other to get closer to the phone so you could hear him.

You let out a squeal suddenly and Ben heard the crash of something that he assumed to be the lamp mentioned earlier. “Honestly!”

He could hear Roger laughing as he ran away. You’d obviously missed him with the lamp.

“God, Ben, I’ve got to go. Our boyfriend is being a pain in the ass and I’ve gotta kiss the brains outta him. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“’Course. Tell Rog, I love him.”

"Of course,”

“G’night, Y/N,” Ben said. “Love you.”

“We love you, too, Ben. Goodnight.”

You hung up and Ben sat there quietly for a moment, the phone still pressed to his ear as he remembered the sound of the laughter. God he missed them.

He’d worked on projects this long before but they’d always been right there in London where he could grab a taxi or have Roger come and pick him up at the end of the day. Now he was out of the country and he realized how much he took for granted the time he got to spend at home.

He assumed Y/N and Roger were accustomed to the situation. Roger was always gone on tour for months after they released a new album and Y/N sometimes had to travel for work, but Ben was always at home with one of them. Now he was the one branching off. 

He set the phone on the nightstand and laid down in the white sheets of the hotel bed.

It felt odd, almost foreign to him; laying alone in a bed. Roger wasn’t there to snuggle his face into his neck or play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Y/N wasn’t there to spoon him or tangled their legs together. No playful fighting over the covers, no cold feet or wandering hands, no drumming of Roger’s fingers against his arm, no Y/N drawing shapes on his back. It was funny to think how much he’d grown accustomed to the feeling of not just one but two people (his two people) laying in bed with him.

He fell asleep with those thoughts and a longing ache in his chest. 

Meanwhile, you were chasing Roger through the house, trying to take his drumsticks from him after he’d poked you in the ass one too many times. The two of you had just finished up doing...things and were enjoying a sweet moment until the drumsticks made a return.

Roger was laughing hysterically and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t grinning from ear to ear.

You were clad in only Roger’s white button up, your underwear, and socks while Roger had opted to only return to his boxers.

Suddenly he was cornered in the kitchen and you jumped onto his back, reaching an arm over his shoulder for the sticks still clutched in his hand, but he’d stuck his own arm out over the countertop so you couldn’t reach them.

“Roger, give them here!”

“Over my dead body!”

“That can be arranged!”

Roger burst into another fit of laughter and you giggled into his ear, still straining for the drumsticks.

You eventually gave up, dropping your hand and laying your head on Roger’s shoulder, breathing heavily as the laughter died down. He dropped the drumsticks on the counter and hooked his arms under your legs to help hold you up; a smile still on his lips and his cheeks sore from laughter.

You closed your eyes and it was silent for a few moments.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, lovie?” He asked softly.

“Thinking that Ben would’ve been filming or taking pictures of us if he’d have been here...”

Roger hummed in agreement, walking from the kitchen towards the lounge. “I miss him, too,”

You still had your eyes closed, trusting Roger to set you down gently wherever he was taking you. “I wish you weren’t working on the album so we could go see him.”

“Me too. The boys’ve been exhausting lately. I love ‘em, but there’s only so much you can take sometimes.”

“Well, three explosive personalities plus Deacy-”

“Hey, you haven’t seen Deaks mad. It’s scary.”

“Yeah, well, I try to stay on his good side unlike somebody I know who likes to push buttons.”

Roger rolled his eyes as he deposited you onto the couch. You laughed as you bounced off the cushons before laying down, Roger crawling on top of you and laying on your chest.

“We would not fit nearly as well on this couch with Ben,” You commented with a grin.

“Yeah, we’ve tried, though. One of us always ends up on the floor.”

“Or squooshed,”

“Or both,”

You both smile, an ache running through your chests.

“He’s been gone far too long.”

“Yeah, when’s his film ‘sposed to wrap anyway?”

“Not sure. Should ask him when he calls tomorrow.”

Roger groaned. “Tomorrow is so far away.”

You ran your fingers through his hair. “Indeed it is,”

You fell into a comfortable silence after that. You putting Roger to sleep as you massaged his scalp and you lost in thought, staring at the ceiling.

“You think the boys might give you a few days off if I promise them you’ll be less grumpy when we get back?”

Roger looked up at you with a pout. “I am not grumpy.”

“You are too,” You said, a smile spreading across your face. “You miss Ben and when you miss one of us you get grumpy. Like that time on tour when you snapped a drumstick when you weren’t able to call us one night? Or when you busted a tambourine after we weren’t able to make it to the nearest show? Or when-”

“Okay, okay, I get it, I’m destructive.”

You laughed and Roger laid his head back down on your chest. “I suppose they might give that a go.”

“Then I’m calling Freddie,”

*** Ben woke up the next morning reaching out across the bed; searching for warmth that wouldn’t be there. He groaned, heart slightly heavy, as he shut off his alarm.

A shiver ran up his spine as he sat up and he cursed himself for not turning up the temperature before heading to bed. That had been the one advice Roger had given him before he departed. “When waking up alone in your hotel room, the temperature will always be colder than you want it. Check it before bed.”

He didn’t have time to dwell on his heartache before he had to gather his bearing and head to the set for his early shoots, but he missed Y/N’s good luck kisses and, oddly, Roger’s smack to his bottom before he would head out the door for a day of filming.

He shut the door to his hotel room and shook his head, trying to shake the homesick thoughts from his mind.

They wouldn’t do him any good anyway. It’s not like he’d be able to satisfy the ache.

Or so he thought.

***

You and Roger were currently sat on a plane, headed for Ben’s filming location.

Roger’s blonde hair was stuffed inside a cap and he had on a dark pair of sunglasses in an attempt to hide his identity. You’d asked him if he’d dye his hair black but he outright refused the offer.

“Love, I know you want this to be a surprise, but even if any paps or fans see us Ben hardly checks that stuff when he’s not filming. I doubt he’d bother while he is.”

You sat next to him, asleep, eyes closed with your sunglasses on, hair loose around your face, and the hood of your jumper pulled up on your head. Your earbuds playing your favorite music.

It was an early flight and you’d been up most of the night preparing for this spur of the moment trip. You wanted everything to be perfect.

“I can sleep on the plane,” You’d told Roger.

And you did. 

Roger laid his head on top of yours as you dozed on his shoulder, a book held between his fingers to pass the time, but, truthfully, he couldn’t focus on it. For some reason he had a lot on his mind.

The three of you hadn’t gone public with your relationship, but the paps had taken notice of Roger’s “mysterious lovers” and Ben and Roger had been seen talking at a party a few times, heaven forbid, but Roger had never dwelled on it before. You didn’t go to events together, never went on vacations together, Ben and you still had your own apartments away from Roger’s house so when he was gone on tour you wouldn’t be questioned coming out of his house while he wasn’t there; you’d taken practically every precaution to make sure the press wouldn’t find out before the three of you were ready.

Roger dug into his jacket pocket for his phone, discarding the book onto the table in front of him.

He opened social media with good intentions.

#rogertaylorxy/n-l/n

OMG did you see the way Roger looked at Y/N during the interview? #hearteyes

Roger is so in love with Y/N. They should just get together already. #(your-ship-name)

(you-ship-name) is real ❤

Roger resisted the urge to like any of them before moving on.

#rogertaylorxbenhardy

Ben said he wasn’t looking for a relationship rn but he looks at Roger says otherwise 👀

Roger and Ben spend an awfully large amount of time together for two people who claim to be ‘just friends’.

Forget Maylor have you seen the way Hardylor look at each other?

Roger snickered quietly. Okay, maybe he and Ben weren’t doing the greatest job either.

He stroked his chin for a moment before taking to the keyboard again.

#benhardyxy/n-l/n

Y/N and Ben seemed awfully friendly during her interview with him #(your-ship-name)

Have you seen the pictures of Ben and Y/N at that coffee shop together??? I bet it was a date 💘

Y/N brought Ben a flower at the BAFTAs to put in his suit pocket and he never took it out! I bet he still has it.

Observant, Roger thought, Ben definitely still has the fake flower.

He hummed in thought. What if...

#benhardyxy/n-l/nxrogertaylor

Y/N spends a lot of time with Roger Taylor and Ben Hardy outside of a professional setting. Who’s she dating though??? What if it’s both???

OMG BEN AND Y/N WERE SEEN LEAVING ROGER’S HOUSE! IN THE MORNING!!!

I bet Y/N Ben and Roger are all dating and just keeping it on the down low. We’ve all seen the heart eyes they give each other.

Y/N and Roger just got on a plane heading to the place Ben’s filming in as seen by his Instagram story. Coincidence?

Roger’s eyes went wide. He checked the timestamp: 20m ago.

Well, Y/N was right. Maybe he should’ve died his hair.

“Looking for something in particular?” Y/N asked, eyes now opened sleepily and looking at phone screen from his shoulder.

“Not really,” Roger replied. “Just curious. Seems the fans are supportive...and onto us.”

He handed you the phone and you squinted at the screen.

“Queenskiller, huh? Clever person.”

“I can see why you were paranoid now,”

You laughed. “We’re almost there. As long as it’s not obvious where we’re going, we’ll be fine.”

***

“And CUT! Good work today everyone, let’s wrap up for lunch.”

Ben sat up from his position where his character had just been beaten to near death and went to get the fake blood cleaned off of him by the makeup designer.

The radio in the trailer was fading out a Beatles song and fading in Bohemian Rhapsody.

It made Ben’s heart ache.

“Hey, did you see Y/N L/N’s new interview with Harry Styles and Elton John?”

The makeup artist removing the makeup shook their head. “Not yet, is it good?”

“Of course. She asks them about their collaboration, similar tastes in style, and she doesn’t mention their sexualities like every other interviewer does.”

“Thank god for her, she’s a blessing. All those other nosy interviewers don’t ever ask anything interesting. The celebrities always do all the work to make the interview enjoyable. At least Y/N is interesting.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile softly to himself. He was proud.

“Have you heard she might be dating Roger Taylor?”

“The Queen drummer? Yeah. I heard they were getting on a plane together this morning.”

“Secret honeymoon?”

“Maybe,”

Ben’s eyebrows furrowed. They got on a plane? They didn’t mention they were going anywhere on the phone.

“Ben, you okay there, dear?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, sorry. Just lost in thought.”

Ben exited the trailer with a clean face and a wandering mind.

It wasn’t unlike Y/N and Roger to be spontaneous but Roger was working on the album and he thought Y/N had another interview today.

Ben shook his head and pulled out his phone. Whatever. He’d just call them and get things cleared up. He was done on set for the remainder of the evening anyway.

He hit the home phone number and waited as it rang.

And rang. And rang.

“Thank you for calling Roger Taylor’s home phone, but I am currently out at the moment. Leave a message and I might call you back.”

Ben hung up.

Okay, so they weren’t home. No big deal, he could still call your cells.

He hit your contact and waited as it rang.

***

You were rolling your luggage out of the airport with Roger when I Saw Her Standing There blasted from your phone.

Recognizing Ben’s personal ringtone, you picked up the phone. “Hey, Benny, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. Just got done filming. Hey, did you and Roger go somewhere? Makeup artists were gossiping about it.”

You gave Roger a panicked look before quickly answering. “Oh, no. Must’ve been wrong. We’re just out for a walk.”

Roger rolled his eyes at your terrible lying skills.

But Ben seemed relieved. “Oh. I thought you might’ve gone somewhere and forgotten to tell me.”

“Oh no, not at all we just-”

Roger pulled you cellphone from your fingers and pressed it against his ear.

“Ben, you don’t need to worry about us. We’re doing fine.”

The rental car you and Roger had gotten pulled up and you quickly tossed you suitcase in the back and jumped in the passenger. Roger took the keys and got in the driver’s seat.

“I know, but I just wanted to make sure. Kept eating at me.”

“Ben, baby, where are you at, right now?”

“Uh, outside the set just about to head back to my hotel, why?”

“Oh, no reason. What hotel’s that again?”

“Lotus Hotel, why?”

“Just curious. Are they treating you right or do I need to make a phone call.”

“Christ, Rog, it’s find. Don’t freak. Are you driving? I thought Y/N said you were on a walk.”

“Oh, we just got back to the house and need to head to the store. Nothing too interesting.”

“A trip to the store with you is always interesting.”

“He’s not wrong,” you chirped from your seat and Roger sent you a playful glare, making you laugh.

Ben smiled. “Gosh I wish I could speed up the production. I’ve been gone from you two way too long.”

“Believe us, Benny, we agree. Hold on, gonna give you back to Y/N,”

He handed you your phone back as you handed him his for directions to the hotel.

“How was filming?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“All right. Filmed the fight scene today, that was interesting.”

You hummed in response.

“Hold on, Y/N, I just got in a taxi- yes, take me to the Lotus Hotel on thirteenth please.”

“Thirteenth?” Roger cursed. “Stupid phone says twelfth.”

“It’s on the corner of the two. He’s coming from the other direction, remember?” You replied, hand covering the receiver.

“What was that, love?” Ben asked.

“Oh, nothing, Roger just missed the turn, again.” You quickly replied. “You said you filmed a fight scene today?”

“Yeah, my character, Jack, got the piss beat out of him in a fight. Gets pretty bloodied up.”

“Well, you know nothing can make that pretty face of yours prettier than blood.”

“Is that a reference to my bloody nose? ‘Cause I keep tellin’ you it was a one time thing.”

You laughed. “Just teasing you, baby,”

Ben let out a laugh of his own, leaning back against the leather seat. “I really miss you guys.”

“We miss you, too. I hope that- Roger it was right there! Oh, jesus, Ben, I gotta go, Roger’s missing turns again. See you soon.”

The line cut off before Ben could question you. See you soon?

***

“’See you soon.’?! Bloody hell, Y/N, why don’t you just give away your own surprise.” Roger said.

“Well, if you hadn’t missed the turn I wouldn’t have had to hang up!” You retorted. “We need to get there before him, remember?”

Roger stuck his tongue out at you as he turned the car around.

You stuck yours out as well and it turned into a fit of giggles throughout the car.

Finally, Roger pulled into the hotel’s parking lot and parked the car in a spot.

“Your turn to call him, Mr. Taylor,” You said, getting out of the directions and handing him his phone.

Roger put the phone to his ear and waited for Ben to pick up.

“Roger?”

“Benny! Made it to the hotel, yet?”

“Uh, no, close though. You not driving anymore?”

“Nah, Y/N is in the store. She wouldn’t let me go in with her. Thought I might get a little more chat outta you before she comes back.”

Ben laughed. “I guess I’ll allow that.”

“Popular boy, ain’t ya?” The driver asked as he turned the corner into the hotel lot.

Ben grinned. “Yeah, I ‘spose I am.” He handed the driver the money for the trip. “Keep the change.”

The driver tipped his cap at Ben and Ben got out of the taxi.

“Sorry, Rog, what were you saying?”

“Oh, not much, just wondering who let you walk off set in those joggers. They look hideous.”

Ben looked down at the old green joggers he was wearing with a laugh. “Yeah, I need to get a new pair- wait, how’d you know I was wearing joggers?”

Ben heard a whistle and turned around.

Y/N was waving and smiling from where she was sat on the trunk of a car and Roger was stood next to her, phone still pressed to his ear, with a big ol’ grin on his face.

Ben dropped the phone from his ear, ending the call, and ran over to them.

Roger intercepted his boyfriend, who practically jumped into his arms, and Y/N hoped off the car to join them in the hug. Ben wrapped an arm around her, squeezing the two of them tightly, tears beginning to pool in his eyes.

“Oh, I can’t believe you’re here!” He said, pulling back finally.

You and Roger laughed.

“Y/N’s a bad liar,” Roger quipped, nudging your side.

“Hey! I’m not the one who got lost!”

“I missed one turn!”

Ben kissed them on the cheek. “Shut up, the both of you, please.”

You and Roger melted, forgetting your bickering and appreciating his presence.

***

Ben went to sleep that night with both of you in his bed.

Roger had immediately turned down the thermostat and Y/N rubbed Ben’s shoulders to relax him. They fought over the covers, had a pillow fight, and made sure that Ben was in the middle.

It felt right. It felt like home.

“You two are amazing to me,” Ben said as his partners snuggled into him.

“You deserve it,” Y/N mumbled, laying against Ben’s chest, his heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

“Don’t ever leave us this long again,” Roger said, pressing a kiss to Ben’s neck.

Ben smiled. “Guess you two will just have to come see me, again,”

[foxtophat]

i dont have much to say about this one!!! it’s just a story about carmina’s tenth birthday, and how the town of fall’s end is coping a decade after the collapse.  uhhh there are some random children in it?  bean is there! and of course john shows up, too, because that’s KIND OF THE POINT of mercyverse lol

technically there’s a story that comes before this, but i don’t have the vibe yet for it so i haven’t worked on it in a while. instead, i’ll probably just keep moving forward and throw up that one if the rest of the plot becomes at all relevant to the real main storyline.  uhhh the next one will take place in the spring of 2029 and we’re going to start getting into some fun stuff that i’ve planned out for a while!!!

until then, uh, the usual: love you, please like/share/reblog/kudos/comment, whatever you feel good about doing, because i sure do love to share my universe with other people!  hope you’re doing well and hopefully i’ll see you with another fic in a few weeks!

also as usual: the story text is below the cut for those of you who wanna stay on tumblr :)

It's Carmina's tenth birthday, and there's a party in town. The two things aren't exactly related, sure, but Carmina's used to sharing her birthday with the Collapse, and she's not about to turn down a bunch of free food. How can she not go to a real Hope County barbecue after her parents had hyped the experience up so much in the bunker? She'd hoped that her ninth birthday would have gotten a similar treatment, but the town just didn't have the food or people for it at the time. Her parents had told her that next year would be better; Carmina does her best to keep her imagination from blowing the whole thing out of proportion.

They leave a little bit after breakfast. Since John is coming along, mom has no excuse not to let Carmina ride in the back with him. He's not excited to be heading into town, but then again, the town isn't usually excited to see him, either. And considering what day it is, they're likely to be extra rude to him. Carmina doesn't get it, honestly, but she's just glad that she can ride in back without her mom grabbing onto her at every pothole and bump in the road.

The first surprise of the day comes as her dad parks just past the church, giving her a chance to stand up and look out over the town. She hasn't been here in a while, and so she's surprised to see that they've cleared out a lot of the dirt lot behind the usable buildings — and there are a lot of people hanging out there. Carmina's never seen so many people at once — she loses count around twenty and can easily guess double that. It's enough to rattle her nerves for just a second, before she catches the looks on her mom and dads' faces and realizes that this is probably a good thing. Sure, John looks like he wants to hop back in the truck and go home, but he always looks like that around strangers. Her parents, on the other hand, actually seem happy for once, and that's what matters to Carmina.

The second surprise is just how many of the adults seem to know her. Her parents move slowly through the mingling crowd, usually coming up with names for faces before Carmina's even looked at the strangers who call her by name. She gets lots of comments like, "I remember when your parents were expecting you!" and "I was wondering how the Rye's little girl turned out!" and even a few, "Glad to see you made it," comments that make her parents side-eye each other pretty fiercely. She doesn't need to introduce herself to anyone, not even people who her parents don't know so well — it's like everybody's always known her, and her family. It's kind of cool — but also kind of weird. Pastor Jerome always said that their family was a pillar in the community, but this is first-person evidence, right here in front of her.

Plenty of the adults wish her a happy birthday, too, but she knows their hearts aren't in it. It's one of the big drawbacks to sharing her birthday with the end of the world — nobody asks how old she is, nobody wants to know what she did on previous birthdays, and all of them have to make some kind of depressing comment. Like trying to get her to relate to birthdays before the Collapse: all they want to do is tell her about all the things she could be doing, or would be doing, if only the world hadn't ended. They want to share their birthdays from the past, but Carmina's never been to the movies, she doesn't know who Disney is, and she has no idea why they'd need a cake and candles for it all. Somebody tells her she should be graduating to the fourth grade, and she just stares back because what even is the fourth grade? What does that mean?

They mean well, so Carmina does her best not to upset anybody, but she knows that nobody appreciates how little she cares about life before the Collapse.

At least there are other kids in town today. Her mom had been telling her about some of them — kids who don't have families, who the town looks after — but Carmina's only ever met one of them, and that had been only for a few minutes. But Carmina can see them hanging out in the field, and as soon as her mom lets her, she heads right out to them. It's about time that she met people her age — she's getting tired of only ever talking to old people.

Of course, meeting strangers is still difficult for her, but she's saved from too much embarrassment as she recognizes the chicken brothers hanging out in the small group. She can't remember which one is Tom and which one is Matt, but they seemed really nice when they helped her pick out her chickens. She also recognizes the oldest boy in the group, although she can't remember his name at all. She's never seen the others before — two teenage girls, another boy her age, and a kid a couple years younger than her — but hopefully she won't make a total fool of herself.

"Hi," she says as she approaches, waving.

"Hey, Carmina," Matt-or-Tom says, stepping aside to make room for her in their makeshift circle. "I thought we would see you today."

"Yep," Carmina smiles, "Here I am!" She sees the teenagers' curious looks and tells them with little fanfare, "Today's my birthday."

"Oh," the oldest boy says. "That sucks."

One of the girls elbows him. "Don't be mean," she says.

"No, he's right," Carmina says. "It does suck."

"Well, happy birthday anyway. How old are you now?"

"Ten."

"Wow," the girl says. She looks at the boy, then back to Carmina, and says sympathetically, "You weren't kidding. That's rough."

Giggling with relief, Carmina waves once more. "It's okay. My name's Carmina, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

Being polite works like a charm, and the oldest boy is quick to go around with introductions. "Well, I'm Jason — this is Caroline, and this is Flower. The little kid there —"

"Hey!"

"— Is Bean, and... Sorry, man, what did you say your name was again?"

The other ten-year-old looking boy frowns and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. "Luke," he says.

"Okay, Luke. And you know Tom and Matt."

"We were talking about the bison out in the field," Tom-or-Matt says. He points in the direction of home and asks, "Did you guys see the big one when you were coming into town?"

"The one that's all white?" Carmina asks, "With the big scar over its hump? We see that one all the time when we come out this way —"

"No, no," the other brother says, "Jason says there's a bigger one."

"I told you guys," Jason says, "I only saw it once, and it was late at night while I was up in the crow's nest. I don't think it comes out during the day."

Carmina frowns. "What big one? What do you mean?"

"Oh, boy," Caroline sighs, "Don't listen to him, Carmina, he's full of shit."

"Hey, language," Flower laughs.

"Look, I was pretty far away, but I had the sniper rifle and I wasn't sleeping on the job. Uh, so..." He points out over the field, towards a squat set of huts surrounding a tall, busted silo that's still standing. The view from up there must be great. "Jerome has me sit up in that tower sometimes, you know, to practice. So I was up there, looking around, and it was probably midnight or so... and I just see this glow out in the field. I think it's a fire, right? Maybe somebody made a camp out there on their way to town or something. So I look out through the scope — and it was a bison."

"A glowing bison?" Carmina asks skeptically.

"Yeah. Like, a monster bison. It was all dark and scaly looking, except for the way its belly glowed. I thought about shooting it, but..."

Caroline laughs. "He got scared. Or it wasn't real, and he's making it all up."

"I wasn't scared, and I'm not making it up! It's not like it could've hurt me up in the nest. It... just didn't feel right. You know, it was just grazing with the rest of the herd. And it moved off over the hill before I could change my mind or call anybody up to confirm it."

"Sure, Jason."

"I'm serious," Jason insists, "I really saw it, okay? I told Jerome about it and everything." He frowns at the dirt. "He said it might've been mutated after the bombs. Then he told me not to go looking for it."

"He's right," Flower says. "Even regular bison are pretty dangerous." She smiles. "That's why I like deer — they won't hurt you. If you sit really still, sometimes they'll even come up and lick your face."

"Oh," Carmina says. "I usually just shoot them. They eat all our vegetables otherwise."

"Yeah," Flower sighs, "Sometimes I do, too. But they're also nice to watch."

Tom-or-Matt looks to his brother. "I wonder if that's what we see outside at night?"

"What, deer?"

"No, dumbass." He turns to the group and explains, "Sometimes, when it's real late and I gotta use the bathroom, I'll see something glowing out in the woods. Dad's cut back a lot of space so it never gets very close, but... maybe it's another mutated animal."

"At least you'll see it coming when it tries to attack you," Carmina suggests.

"Gee, thanks."

Carmina knows he's probably teasing, but she still feels guilty for being so blunt about it. The least she can do is try to reassure him. "Well... most animals don't attack near houses, I don't think. When we first came out of the bunker, there were wild dogs and wolves that would watch us, and my dad was real worried about them — but now they mostly stay away from the property. I think it's because of the fence. You guys have a fence, right?"

"Yeah, plus a butt-load of chickens that freak out over anything out of the ordinary." Matt-or-Tom grins at her and asks, "Don't they wake you up with every little thing?"

Carmina briefly considers mentioning John being attacked, then decides against it. She also doesn't want to tell them that the chickens live mostly indoors at night now — the last thing she wants to do is kick off a whole big thing about the cult on her dang birthday! It's already hard enough pretending to care about them around her parents; she's not sure she could even force herself to bother here. And if she's not careful, the kids in town might start to think about her and her family the same way all the adults do.

"They're pretty docile, actually," she says, "And we only really see deer around our place... It's not like they eat chickens."

"Well.... maybe there's a mutant deer out there that wants to eat you," Tom-or-Matt teases.

Carmina rolls her eyes. "I'll shoot it before it gets past the hangar," she replies.

Of course, her dismissive confidence leads to a sprawling discussion on who might be the best shot out of the group. Carmina does her best to defend her skills, considering she can't prove any of it right now, but all three teens insist they're dead-eyes, and even Bean says he's "getting pretty good at the aiming part." On top of that, the kids from the town have gotten pointers from Aunt Grace herself, which means they might actually be better shots than Carmina expects.

"Maybe we should have a competition," Caroline suggests. "I bet Pastor Jerome and Aunt Grace would be okay with it."

"Sure," Jason laughs, "But you know they'd make us spend forty minutes disassembling and cleaning our rifles before and after. Like I don't know what I'm doing — I'm almost fifteen!"

"Have you guys been to Aunt Grace's?" Carmina asks. "She has a shooting range there."

"Maybe she'd let us use it!"

"I've never been to a real shooting range," Bean says.

"It's not a real shooting range," Jason points out, "Those all got blown up. Do you even know how to use a gun, Bean?"

"I just said I do! My dad taught me! I... just don't like the loud noises it makes."

Matt-or-Tom boasts, "We learned to shoot in our bunker. Mom collected Airsoft guns — they don't use bullets, so they can't kill you."

"What's the point of that?"

"I dunno, I guess practicing underground?"

Tom-or-Matt laughs. "Dad was convinced the Peggies were gonna get us, so he wanted us to know how to shoot."

The quiet kid, Luke, finally speaks up. "Lucky," he mutters, "Easier to learn underground, I bet."

"What about you?" Carmina asks. She tries not to cringe away when he stares back at her like he didn't expect anyone to hear him. Maybe he doesn't like people talking to him? "Um... my mom and dad had a bunch of gun magazines in the bunker, but I never got to shoot a real gun until we came outside. Mom and Aunt Grace have been teaching me, though, and I'm way better than my dad is."

Luke hesitates. "Kind of the same. We came up early, though. Had to."

"Me, too," Jason replies. "It was just me and my brother. I was five when we got stuck in the bunker — we went through our supplies in about three years, so we had to come back up."

"We... only stayed down until I could walk," Luke admits. "It was still really cold when we came up. And mom got real sick for a while."

"Yikes," Bean says, "That sucks!"

"Come on, bean," Jason snaps, "You don't say that."

"You just said it to her!" Bean shouts, pointing at Carmina.

"He's... right," Luke mumbles. "It sucked. It... still sucks. But things are getting better now." He looks up at them, then drops his eyes back to the dirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Carmina insists, "I asked first!"

"That's kind of the mood today," Caroline adds. "Don't worry. We can talk about something else."

The change in topic comes abruptly as Bean points towards the Church and asks, "Who is that with Pastor Jerome?"

Carmina doesn't need to look, but since the rest of the group does, she might as well too. John has his hat pulled low over his eyes, as usual, which makes him look suspicious, as usual. Knowing him, he probably didn't even leave the truck — just waited there for Jerome to come talk to him.

She can only hope that Tom and Matt keep their mouths shut since they're the only other kids who know what John looks like nowadays. Unfortunately for her, that hope is pretty quickly dashed.

"Oh," Matt-or-Tom says, like a jerk, "That's John, I think. Right, Carmina?"

"Wait," Jason says, "You're that Carmina?"

Carmina ducks her head. "Um... it depends, I guess?"

Flower, looking too sympathetic for Carmina's liking, tries to mediate. "He just means, well... Jerome talks about you sometimes."

"And he talks about that guy," Jason adds, pointing without any subtlety at all.

"Everyone talks about that guy," Caroline says with a sigh. She gives Carmina a sympathetic shrug as she does, as though she wishes she could stop the conversation from happening, too. That only makes Carmina worried that this isn't the first time the teenagers have sat around gossiping about John and the crazy people who decided to take him in.

"Wait," Bean gasps, way too loudly, "That's John Seed?"

"Oh my God," Matt-or-Tom sighs, "You gotta keep up with the conversation."

"Wait, what's he doing here? Why's he going into the church? I thought he wasn't supposed to come to town? I thought he was locked up!"

Carmina groans. "It's my birthday," she whines, "I don't wanna talk about John today!"

"We don't have to," Caroline says. "Guys, come on."

"I mean, he did kill a lot of people. Isn't he, like, a psychopath? Isn't it weird to live with a murderer?"

"Jason!"

Luke mutters, "I heard he used to cut off people's skin."

"That's true," Jason replies, "My brother has a huge scar from when it happened to him. Boy, I hope he doesn't see that jackass is here..."

Matt-or-Tom finally seems to realize what he's started, frowning as the conversation spirals crazily out of control. It's too late to stop it, though, and so he shuffles his feet and looks apologetically towards Carmina.

Fine. If she can't get around the subject, she's just going to have to tackle it head-on. Even if that sounds really scary. She doesn't think that these guys are going to flip out like the caravan last year did, but she's still a little worried that she might be in for a fight if she says the wrong thing about John.

"I know John used to be a bad guy," she says. "Like, really bad. My dad's got one of those scars, too. But he's not like that any more. All he does nowadays is help my parents with chores and stuff. And he's just like everybody else — he doesn't talk about what happened before the Collapse to me or anybody. So I really don't know anything more than you guys.

She probably knows less than them, honestly, but she's not about to say so and get a brutal lesson in everything John's ever done wrong.

"So he's just... different, now?" Jason asks, frowning unhappily at the church.

"I guess so," Carmina replies with a shrug. She looks over to make sure that John and Jerome are inside, just in case. "He's not... scary, or mean, or anything like that. Just quiet. Kind of... lonely, I guess. Ever since he found out his brother is alive but still crazy, he's been really beat up about it." He's also been literally beaten up over it, but now's not the time to try and make the others feel sorry for him. John would probably be irritated at the idea of a bunch of kids pitying him.

Matt-or-Tom is quick to help her out, which is nice. "She's right," he says. "The Father is still out there in the woods with all those crazies, but John's repented. Dad said he made amends with God, whatever that means. He... uh, still doesn't like us being around him, but when we helped him load the chickens in he seemed okay. Just real quiet."

"That's John, alright," Carmina sighs.

Bean looks seriously disappointed by the news. "You mean he doesn't talk about it at all?" he asks.

"No," Carmina says, snapping for good measure, "And he gets really upset when you ask about it, so don't."

"I'm not gonna go talk to him!" Bean gasps.

The idea that a kid might be scared of John is pretty funny, considering how uncomfortable he is around her, but Carmina's not about to say as much. John probably wouldn't like her sharing a weakness like that with a bunch of strangers, and she wouldn't want them using it against him later.

Flower slowly lifts her hand, looking embarrassed. "Some of the adults in town say the Bliss messed him up. Is that... true?"

Well, at least she's trying to be nice about it. "I dunno," Carmina admits. "He was super weird when he first started living with us, but that might've just been because he was stuck in his bunker for so long."

"Oh, that happened to a guy my dad knows!" Bean supplies helpfully. "Dad calls it bunker shock. Says living underground too long is bad for you when you're all alone!"

"Glad I didn't live in one long enough for that," Luke says. When everyone looks at him, he clams up for a second before continuing on. "A neighbor came up just this year. He's... real weird. I don't like him much. He still sleeps underground, hoping he'll wake up and it'll all be a dream." He scuffs his boot against the dirt, sniffing loudly. "That's what my mom says, anyway. I try not to be around when he comes by."

"He wouldn't be the first adult to be like that," Jason says. He gives the church one last look before nodding his head towards the party. "I mean, that's why we're all the way out here, instead of hanging out around the food. Right?"

"No," Bean replies, "I'm out here 'cos I can't eat another bite! I didn't know you could be this full."

Caroline laughs. "Yeah, the adults have been stockpiling for weeks, it looks like... I guess everyone was really looking forward to it — or, well, I guess that's what it is."

Flower gazes over at the gaggle of adults. Carmina recognizes her dreamy smile from the way her mom looks around the house sometimes, like she's getting a new, better look at the place.

"It feels like things are starting to look up," she says. "Maybe they can all be happier now."

"Hey, don't jinx it!" Tom-or-Matt laughs.

Bean looks around at the rest of them and for a second, Carmina is worried he's going to ask more about John and restart the whole ugly conversation. Thankfully, it looks like he's still a baby, so he's quickly distracted.

"So, what do we do now?" he asks, pushing his too-big glasses up his nose.

Carmina has never actually played with other kids before, so she doesn't have any good suggestions — especially when shooting is off-limits. Thankfully, she isn't the only one. The teenagers don't know where their soccer ball went, and Luke says he doesn't even know what soccer is. Bean says he usually plays word games by himself. When Tom-or-Matt suggests they play something called "capture the flag," it manages to make its way to the top of the list just because Jason and Caroline have both heard of it before.

Well, at least something is better than nothing. The older kids explain how capture the flag works, using Jason's shirt for their team's flag while the other kids band together around Matt-or-Tom's sweaty tank top. Carmina imagines that one of them should sit out for even teams, but the older kids seem confident that they can handle it. Too confident, in Carmina's opinion — maybe they need to be brought down a peg.

Capture the flag turns out to be more fun than Carmina had expected — and a lot harder, too. Trying to outmaneuver the older kids is tough work, but she and Tom-or-Matt figure out how to flank them pretty quick. There's nothing better than the moment when Carmina manages to dive out of the way when Jason tries to tackle her, and even if she gets dog-piled by Flower halfway back to Bean at home base, she holds Jason's shirt up for another teammate to take.

Unfortunately, the game ends without a winner as a sharp whistle pierces the air. Bean looks up and shouts, "That's my dad! I better go!"

He runs off at full tilt without so much as a goodbye, and Carmina has to squint against the setting sun to watch him go. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

"I should probably get going, too," Luke says, sweaty and almost smiling for once. "I want to get another plate of food before we go home."

"Ugh," Carmina sighs, "And the chickens need feeding."

"Just make John do it," Matt-or-Tom says, apparently not learning his lesson about mentioning John.

"It's supposed to be my job," she says. "And anyway, he already feeds them in the morning when I don't get up in time."

"They're gonna like him more than you," Tom-or-Matt laughs.

Jason frowns. "He feeds your chickens?"

"I mean... yeah. He does whatever we need him to." Carmina shrugs, glancing back towards the church. She hasn't seen Jerome or John leave — maybe she should go see them before she rounds up her parents? Nah, it's better to leave them alone until the very last minute.

"Just... didn't think you'd let him near livestock, that's all."

"What's he gonna do, poison the eggs?" Carmina huffs. "He's good with them. I think he likes them 'cos they aren't judgey."

Caroline frowns, which tells Carmina she might've been a little rude. But Jason's been rude about John all day, so she's not going to feel sorry about it!

"Well, I guess if your parents trust him..."

"Sure they do," Carmina replies, even if that's not... exactly right. She knows her parents trust John enough to help around the house, but she thinks they only want to trust him with all the other stuff.

"I really better go," she says, pointing towards town.

"Sure," Flower says. "It was nice to meet you, Carmina."

Carmina gives them her best grin, relieved when it's returned from the others. Jason even waves like there's no hard feelings. "It was nice meeting you guys," she says.

"Happy birthday again!" Matt-or-Tom says, "And be careful!"

"Yeah," his brother laughs, "Wouldn't want to have a glowing deer attack you in the outhouse tonight!"

Carmina laughs away the dumb attempt to scare her, waving goodbye before turning to head for the party. Halfway there, she glances over her shoulder and sees the group turned back to one-another in conversation. None of them are looking back, but as she continues on, she's chased by an unfamiliar sense of discomfort. She can't help but wonder if they're still talking about John in the church.... If they're talking about her.

At least she can distract herself while looking for her parents. There are plenty of adults who say hello; some of them even point her helpfully towards her mom's last known location, or towards the table with the cookies her dad really liked. Some of them check in to make sure her birthday has been going well, too, which is nice of them, but a lot of adults are pretty drunk and deep in their own conversations.

She eventually finds her mom and dad standing around a grill with Marjorie, one of the adults in charge around town. Carmina's met her a couple of times. She's nice, but she can talk a lot. There's no telling how long they've been talking for, and if Carmina doesn't interrupt, who knows when they'll finish. While she could probably grab some food for the road, first she has to make sure that they're actually going to be leaving sometime before the next Collapse.

Besides, it looks like her dad's already got a box of leftovers in his hands. If Carmina wants to eat, she's going to have to interrupt.

"Hey dad," she says as she comes up to them, "The chickens are going to need dinner soon."

Her dad grins at her before handing over the squat, open cardboard box. There's chicken, ribs, corn and roasted potatoes, and even a handful of cookies and flatbread; it takes everything in Carmina's power not to make a desperate grab for more food. She doesn't have to worry about going hungry tonight, so there's no need to eat everything put in front of her.

"Here," he tells her, "You take this, alright? My arms are gettin' tired."

Yeah, right. As soon as she takes the box, he uses one of those tired arms to grab one of the ribs. When Carmina frowns suspiciously at him, her dad only shrugs.

"I coughed on it."

"Uh-huh..."

Laughing, her mom reaches out to give Marjorie a hug. It might've run a little long, but her mom obviously enjoyed the talk. "We'll be back in a week or two with the tractor parts," she says. "You're going to get the fields back in shape in no time."

"Already got a good start," Marjorie replies. She shoots Carmina a warm smile. "Happy birthday, by the way! Don't think I got to see you much. Hope those kids weren't giving you a hard time."

"No," Carmina replies., "They're all really nice. We want to practice shooting together, maybe have a contest. Jason said he's better than anybody else."

"I bet you're gonna give him a run for his money!" Marjorie laughs. "Well, the better a shot you are, the better off you'll be. You won't see anybody here stop you kids."

"Yeah, but tonight, I have to feed the chickens," Carmina says, just in case her parents need another chance to get out of here.

"We've got a few other people to say goodbye to," her mom tells her. "Why don't you take the food back to the truck? We'll meet you there."

"Should I get John, too?"

As soon as she asks, Carmina decides she probably shouldn't have brought it up. Too late, though; by the look on Marjorie's face, there's no way to pretend she didn't hear it.

Her dad shrugs. "Probably oughta," he tells her, as if he doesn't see Marjorie staring at them like she is.

Marjorie definitely doesn't like that, judging by the way she squints, but she doesn't say anything about it. "Well, I hope you had a decent enough birthday for once," she says, "Hopefully we'll be having a party around this time every year from now on."

"That would be nice," mom says.

"Just you wait, we're gonna turn this ship around one way or another." Marjorie gestures with her hands and says, "Alright, you better go, before those chickens of yours eat each other."

Carmina frowns. "They don't do that, do they?"

"Uh, let's get moving," her dad says. "See you soon, Marg."

"Take care!"

Her mom and dad have to stop a few more times to say goodbye to people Carmina doesn't know, but she pushes on without them and nobody stops her for more than a quick birthday greeting. She catches sight of Luke packing up some food with his parents, but he's too distracted to notice her. At least she isn't the only one carrying a box of leftovers out of here; it would feel selfish of her if they weren't sending leftovers home with other people.

Her parents haven't caught up with her by the time she reaches the truck, and John is nowhere to be seen. She figures he's probably still in the church — he and Pastor Jerome always take forever when they're talking. They'll probably be there until dad goes in and breaks them up.

Eating by herself in the back of the truck doesn't feel right, especially not within walking distance of the church. Leaving the food tucked in the corner by the cab, Carmina heads for the building herself. Even if nobody was in there, she'd probably go wander inside for a few minutes; it's a comforting, quiet place in the dry, dusty town. But right now, she's pretty sure John is hanging around inside, and he probably hasn't eaten anything all day, either. She should at least let him have first pick.

She knows a lot of the adults dislike the church, but Carmina personally enjoys how its sun-bleached siding stands out against the sky. Besides the house, the church is one of the few places Carmina wishes she could have seen in one piece. She's seen old, faded pictures from ancient newspaper clippings, but it's just not the same.

The doors are open wide enough for Carmina to slip in without a sound. The air inside is cool, almost chilly, and it smells like dirt and grass. From the entrance, there's only a narrow gap keeping Jerome and John out of sight. She doesn't mean to hide, but she doesn't want to interrupt Jerome mid-sentence...

It's too late, she's eavesdropping.

"It might not be much, but it's something," Jerome's saying. "He even stayed a few nights, when the wind got bad and brought too much pollen over the river."

"It would be better for everyone if he stayed here permanently," John replies. "Wallace went further down the path than the rest of them, and they clearly don't know what they're doing."

"They're trying, John. And we don't have a say in the matter. It's got to be his choice. Remember?"

John grunts, clearly annoyed. Carmina doesn't think she's ever heard him say so much before. Does he talk to her mom and dad this much? Is he really only quiet around her?

"I don't like it," John says.

"For what it's worth, neither do I. But Sharky's taking things seriously — they all are. You're going to have to trust them."

"Trust isn't exactly one of my virtues," John grumpily admits.

Jerome chuckles. "You just need practice."

Well, Carmina definitely feels guilty now. She had only been waiting for an opening, but if she waits any longer, she's really going to be breaking John's trust. Pastor Jerome's, too, for that matter.

Thinking on her toes, Carmina pushes on the already open door as though she's just showing up. Of course, the hinges squeal in protest as soon as she does, so she stops before she breaks something.

"Are you guys still in here?" she calls. She's pretty convincing about it, in her opinion.

"Yes, Carmina," Jerome responds, apparently none-the-wiser, "We're here."

John regards her neutrally as she steps into view, but he's always wearing his poker face around her. She needs to get better at reading it.

"I guess it's time to go, then," he says.

"Yeah. Um — I mean, I can meet you back at the truck. Mom and dad will be here soon..."

Jerome speaks up before John can get the chance. "No, you two go on. I think we were just about done ourselves, and I'd like to sit here for a little while, before it gets too dark." He and John shake hands, and then he comes over to give Carmina a hug. "Happy birthday," he tells her. "You be good for another year, alright?"

"I'll try," she says.

"That'a girl," Jerome laughs. "Keep an eye on her, John."

Sometimes, it seems like Jerome is the only adult in Hope County that doesn't think John is a bad influence on her. Even her mom and dad, who are basically the only people on John's side, get uncomfortable if she tries to talk to him too much. But Jerome is a special case. He used to be weird about anything John-related, but nowadays? Honestly, Carmina's pretty sure he's John's only friend at this point — well, okay, other than mom and dad, but they don't count.

John waits until they've left the church to speak. He's chilly and dismissive, as usual.

"How long were you listening for?"

"I wasn't," Carmina begins — but she can't lie to him. Lying only ever makes things worse. So she corrects herself reluctantly and admits, "It was only a minute. I didn't mean to... it just sort of happened."

"Hm."

Normally, Carmina can't get a read on John's poker face, but... huh. She can't help but feel like she might've... hurt his feelings? She definitely wasn't being trustworthy, that's for sure. And now he's trying to casually out-pace her on the walk back to the truck.

"I'm sorry for eavesdropping," she says, picking up her pace to match his. "I promise, I won't do it again."

John glares at her, but she's pretty sure he's not angry. Maybe just confused? She's not sure, he's never looked at her longer than two seconds before.

"I... appreciate it," he replies instead, which makes it the first time he's ever accepted an apology of hers. Usually, he just tells her not to worry about it.

Carmina grins at him, but he's already looked away, so of course he doesn't see it. Instead, he looks to the field, where the three teens from town are still hanging out. Carmina can't tell if they're looking this way or not. She sure hopes they aren't; John would know immediately that they gossiped about him, and she's already messed up with him once today.

"Have you ever played capture the flag?" she asks, hoping to distract him. "The chicken brothers taught us the rules but I think they maybe made some of it up."

John cracks a small smile. Well, Carmina will pretend it's one, anyway.

"The chicken brothers," he repeats.

"You know, Tommy and Matt."

"Do they know that's what you call them?"

"I mean, I've never said it to their faces..."

"That's probably smart."

They reach the truck, which marks the invisible barrier that keeps John out of town. Of course, mom and dad still aren't here. If Carmina climbed up on top of the truck, she might be able to spot them, but it's not like she could get their attention from this far away. So, she's going to have to kill time until they get back.

"Did you eat?" she asks, climbing up into the truck bed.

"I'm fine, Carmina," John replies, a little wearily. Like she's not the first person to bug him about it today — or, maybe like he lacks energy from not eating all day.

She rolls her eyes, but John doesn't see. "Uh-huh." She sits down, pulling the box of food into her lap as she leans back against the cab. "Dad was surprised that there were cookies. Um, not exactly the same, I guess? But still really good." She's not going to give him a chance to turn it down, grabbing one and shoving it in his direction. "Here, try one!"

John, leaning against the side of the truck like he is, is clearly more interested in looking for her parents than humoring her. He definitely looks like he wants to say no. But to her surprise, he actually takes the offered food. It would be weird to stare at him while he eats, so she goes back to debating between a chicken leg or one of the last ribs in the box.

"Not bad," John comments, which is like, crazy, because Carmina definitely isn't goading him into talking.

"They're kind of crumbly," Carmina says, "I dunno if that's what it's supposed to be like. But all the food is really good." She counts the chicken legs out again, just to make sure there's one for each of them. "Um... hey, John? Uh... do chickens eat each other?"

John frowns, chewing the question over with the rest of the cookie. He swallows, then says, "Most animals cannibalize their own if they're desperate enough."

"Oh."

"They would need to be left alone for a lot longer than a few hours," he points out. "Or they would have to be sick. It's more likely a dog will get them before they turn on each other."

Well, at least Carmina can trust John to tell her the truth, even if it's probably not the way her parents would want him to do it. She doesn't even mind him being so blunt about it, either; she's just surprised he's willing to talk to her. She can't help but wonder if this is going to be a normal thing, now that she's ten — is he going to stop being so weird around her? Or is this just a special treat, because of the day? She sure hopes not. It'd be a lot less awkward if John didn't act so scared of her all the time.

Her parents finally join them at the truck. Her mom wrinkles her nose at Carmina sitting in the back again, but she doesn't say anything. Her dad doesn't seem to mind; once he spots the box in Carmina's lap, he reaches over to grab one of the shortbread cookies for himself.

"Sorry about that," he says, "We got held up a couple times. John, you try one of these yet?"

"I did."

"Crazy having home-baked goods again, right?" Her dad waggles the cookie in John's face; John rolls his eyes and circles back around to the tailgate, climbing up into the bed. "Here, Carmina, give me that box so the food doesn't get too cold on the way home."

"You're just gonna eat everything," Carmina objects, handing over the box anyway.

"Nah, come on. Here, you guys grab something for the ride home." He nudges Carmina's shoulder with the box. "You probably worked up an appetite bullying all the older kids out there — and I bet you didn't eat much of anything, either," he adds in John's direction.

"I had a cookie, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I'll bet nobody forced you into it, either."

Carmina grins as her dad winks at her. Her mom rolls her eyes, but doesn't keep dad from bullying John a little. "Grab something so we can get going," she tells John, "And make sure she doesn't stand up once we're in drive."

John reluctantly takes a towel-wrapped ear of corn and a single rib, while Carmina goes right for that piece of chicken she'd been eying from the start. That helps her make peace with sitting safely, at least this one time. Next year, she's definitely going to get to ride in back by herself, she can feel it, and she is going to do it standing up!

As Carmina watches the town shrink behind them, she congratulates herself on another successful birthday. It'd been better than she'd expected — she was a little uncomfortable around so many people at first, but now she's pretty sure she can say she's made some friends? And seeing the town full of food and laughter and music... It had been sort of what Carmina imagines Fall's End used to be like. Her parents probably wouldn't agree, but maybe that's okay. Maybe when she's older, she can try and prove to them that things can be just as good as they used to be — even if it's a different kind of good.

[defensefilms]

Defense Films Names His Top 5 Favorite Rappers

In All It’s Infinite Glory And Magnanimity, Defense Gives You His Top 5 Favorite Rappers. 

5. 50 Cent 

To this day, when you need a playlist for a MMA class and the group is hella diverse, you’re not really sure which way to go with it, pop in that 50. Can’t go wrong with Get Rich Or Die Trying (the original), or even that G-Unit Beg For Mercy.

That run from late 2002-2005/06 was unlike anything you’ll ever see again. That was a perfect situation where there was organic support from fans and there were people at a business level, mainly 50, that knew how to turn it into the wave that it became and industry has been trying to replicate this ever since.

While most people remember is the numerous scandals, beefs and controversies of that time but it was the music that moved the audience. For all the ways 50 Cent’s success mirrors ruthless American capitalism, his debut album is low key one of the most inspiring albums you’ll ever listen to. 

It’s a foxhole mentality on wax. It’s me-versus-you type thinking. It’s someone has to lose and I’ll be damned. It’s who ever has to get hit, is gonna get hit. 

See the first time I listened to it, it was about “In Da Club”, “Wanksta”, you know the more palatable records that got on radio and all that but the more I listened the more I realized, it was actually built on the backs of songs like “Patiently Waiting”, “Many Men”, “Back Down”, “Don’t Push Me” and “Gotta Make It To Heaven”. On one side it’s as motivational as you can think of but it’s not the wacky kind of naivé motivational talk because it’s willing to get it’s hands dirty and go in to much grittier ideas. 

Like his predecessors, 50 pulls off the trick of balancing easy-to-listen-to records on a foundation of graphic and aggressive songs.  

Recommended Songs: Maybe We Crazy, When It Rains It Pours

4. Jedi Mind Tricks

I’ll give you props if you know who these man are but they are legends. Point blank. Violent By Design will forever rank as one of the great group albums in hip-hop history.  Vinny Paz, Jus Allah and producer/DJ Stoupe The Enemy of Mankind, gave hip-hop a shockwave they weren’t ready for, especially back in 1999.

Hip-hop as a business wasn’t ready to market a group, whose themes were rooted in topics like government control, military warfare, covert control tactics, religion and psychological warfare. To have all that in one bundle wasn’t something that big time A&R’s were ready for. 

Had they started this group in 2010, they would have walked in to a business landscape that was far more suitable to who they were as an act and as MC’s. 

Even with that JMT still enjoyed a lot of notoriety and they definitely succeeded in establishing their following, despite the odds. 

While Violent By Design may serve as the magnum opus of their body of work, their run really starts in 1997 with the Psycho-Social, Biological & Electro-Magnetic Manipulation Of Human Kind. 

Yes guy, that’s an album title. You gotta think now, I was in high school the first time I heard this and I was very into conspiracy theories and nonsense, so this album hit me right between the eyes. The idea that someone could use the medium of hip-hop in this way was crazy and the album would have been more than 10 years old when I first heard it.

No, the hip-hop historians among us will argue that Wu-Tang were a better and more influential group and I’d tend to agree, I can also bust back and say, “these dudes took Wu-Tang’s formula and gave it a whole different edge.”

 I’ll break it to you like this, Wu-Tang gave the world swordsmanship and the first projectile weapons like bow and arrows, spears and the likes. Jedi Mind Tricks gave the world gun powder, advanced modern explosives and semi-automatics. You see what I mean?

Recommended Songs: Untitled, Retaliation Remix

3. Jay-Z

No top rappers list is complete without my man. The only reason he ain’t higher is because, I rate a rapper more highly if they’re in the prime of their musical abilities. If this were an all-time list he’d be way way higher. 

Beginning with Reasonable Doubt is really the only place to start when it comes to Jay. The production, the skits, the way every sentence was so tightly wound together, the word selection and sentence construction. It’s remembered as an album of hits because of tracks like “Cant Knock The Hustle”, ”Feelin It” and “Brooklyn’s Finest” but Reasonable Doubt was really defined by “Dead Presidents”, “D’evils”, “Politics As Usual” and “Can I Live”. 

The first batch of songs gave the album some relatability, as far as depicting club vibes and nightlife glamour because that second batch of songs were all built on darker themes like betrayal, jealousy, greed, blind ambition and deception. That combination of themes as well as the production to match each one is why that album will always rank high among a certain listenership. 

With that being said, never make the mistake of thinking Jay or any man is perfect. There’s like a 3 album run where there’s moments of dope-ness but not a truly complete album. 

Still with that, songs like “Imaginary Player” and “Where I’m From” will rank among his best songs.

It’s only when you get to The Blueprint can you start to see Jay perfecting the art of crafting, whole, complete albums that bump from start to finish. The Blueprint was near perfection in this regard. “U Don’t Know”, “Heart Of The City” and “Momma Loves Me” will rank as his best efforts and yeah, I skipped a few.

The Black Album replicated the Blueprint’s listenability, while also dealing in topics that created an album that sounded very personal to Jay. 

All told, the best parts of his catalogue are so strong that there is no denying his place on my list.

Recommended Songs: Dead Presidents, I Love The Dough

2. Action Bronson

I cannot for the life of me fathom how this man doesn’t get the love but the real ones know. 

The mixtape download era (2010-2017 give or take), had many unlikely success stories. An overweight white guy, who grew up cooking in his parents deli/eatery, turned pro-chef then turned rapper, is beyond unlikely. Only the internet could allow this man to succeed and thank the hip-hop gods it did.

From 2012 to about 2018, Action was one of the only constants in my playlist. I still remember where I was the first time I heard “Brunch”. His catalogue starting with the Tommy Mas produced, Dr Lecter and boasting full collaborations albums along side Statik Selektah and the Alchemist, and of course the classic Blue Chips series. This man’s prime will be underrated. 

If you’re going to take one chapter of Bronson’s art and study it, it’s going to be Blue Chips 1 and 2. Both are thematically perfect without ever trying to be. Which is what allowed Party Supplies to make production choices that grabbed you from the jump. From the first time you hit play on the opening of Blue Chips 1, you’re hit with the sound of falling shards of glass and a violin sound that makes the opening song un-skippable. The songs themes are also a perfect introduction to the man himself. Debauchery, expensive taste, hedonism, revelry, unabashed pleasure-seeking, drug use and just enough self-depreciation that you felt you were along for the ride rather than just a fly on the wall, turning your nose in disgust. It was a perfect mixtape, at a time when mixtapes were at a crazy dumb high standard.

It’s not so much that a rapper made punchlines about food, that would be an over-simplification and really missing the trick. It’s that he made everything he said sound like the dopest thing ever and the most underrated trick about his music is that he made grown man rap without needing to be thuggin’. A rare feat. 

Bronson has since gone on to establish himself as a content creator/producer/food review guy but man, what he accomplished as a complete body of work is nothing short of astonishing.

Recommended Songs: Midget Cough, Bonzai

1. Headie One

So it’s late last year. I’m hanging with my boy Phil and Brown, we had just finished some content and Phil says “yo listen to this”. He proceeds to play Golden Boot and it hasn’t stopped bumping since. 

A UK rapper with a lyrical nous and wit that rivals even legends like Jay-Z, but rapping over trap and drill beats. What Headie One is doing is not the norm and I’m talking in terms of his lyrics, sentence construction, word selection, metaphors, he does it all and like all the greats, he makes it look easy. 

His collaboration with RV definitely helped mold him, with both the “Sticks and Stones” and “Drillers and Trappers” mixtapes giving you an idea of what Headie offers as a lyricist. He compliments RV’s brash, aggressive boasts with slightly less obvious but incredibly witty boasts of his own.

His discography though really starts to peak with 2018′s “The One”. That’s where Headie begins find a sweet spot between his lyrics, production and the themes of his songs. A mixtape like this can only exist via independent release because outside of the aforementioned “Golden Boot”, ain’t none of those songs getting any radio play especially in a country as “conservative” as England. Even in a genre saturated with gangsta/trap, “The One” stands out for what he accomplishes lyrically.

Headie would follow that by releasing “The One Two” in June of 2018 and he ascends even more in what he’s able to accomplish with the words.

 The track “Banter On Me” should be in an all-time list somewhere for being the wittiest track of all time. The song is literally just Headie finding new and innovative ways to boast, call out and bait his foes. Hip-hop/Rap has plenty of beef songs that weren’t really direct call outs to any known public figure but were still definitely taking shots at someone. 50 cent’s “Wanksta” and “Officer Down” are some examples of such songs I can think of. Those did not really have the kind of wit Headie displays here. The constant streams of alliterations, double meanings, puns, metaphors, inferences and innuendos is just astonishing. There’s a real mastery of language at play here. The song is a lesson in language, no textbooks. 

Headie has since released his debut album along with additional tracks for the delux version of the album. His debut studio release “Edna” does what studio releases are supposed to do. “Parle-Vouz Anglais” and “Aint It Different” will standout and are difinitely the most palatable songs as far as radio play. Those are the 2 songs I’d play for first time listeners. 

Recommended Songs: Hard To Believe, Dues, Zodiac

[missinghan]

night changes (2) ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : rich kid!au

❖ word count : 21k.

❖ warning : explicit language & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : fate decides to backfire when you try to pull the son of the Senator in as a barrier between your life and Bang Chan.

❖ a/n : read pt.1 beforehand to understand the story better, I’m too tired to proofread this after the nth time, please don’t @ me.

one. The only reason why your mom persuaded Jeongin to move after when you moved in with your dad was college being practically thirty minutes away from the place. And also because of the rent. You feel bad for your brother mainly since the walls there are awfully thin and the girl next door always seems to have someone over every other night. They aren’t exactly trying to be subtle either. Sometimes you wonder how the fuck can he study for finals when the noise pollution can’t get any worse but he still manages to hit straight A-s.

On the other hand, you and Felix never have to worry about things such as students’ loans or college tuition. Every single penny was paid, as well as every other necessity in life. But you feel like nothing but a filler or a mannequin whenever you dad demands for intimate parties where you’re forced to sit still and look pretty when he’s too busy talking business with the other families. You’re just simply there, in his circle of status. Even when you’re all dressed up in designers’ clothes and whatnots, you still feel so out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Felix rolls his eyes dramatically when you pull up right in front of a rather ugly tree, scowling hard. “And you’re seriously taking your Rover today? Where did all of your standards go?” He glances sideways and sees a black Mercedes right in front of your car but shrugs it off shortly after.

“Hey! You take that back! She’s my baby! And also, it’s not gonna freak Jeongin out as much as your Tesla would,” you chuckle and punch his arm, earning a wholehearted laugh in return. Despite being born in a well off family, your stepbrother isn’t as much of an asshole as you’re expecting him to be. He’s pretty down to earth and acts like every other college kid that you’ve met with a questionable obsession with Fortnite. Except he loves to shove all the logos of luxurious brands into people’s faces who keep pissing him off, making him that much more intimidating.

“Wait here or stay there, pick your poison,” you tell him before grabbing your key and exit the car.

Felix mumbles something along the lines of ‘don’t be so rude’ and trails after you. He flutters his eyes upwards to take a closer look at the apartment complex before him. It’s quite small but seems very cozy. He wonders if it does feel less isolating and cold when there isn’t so much extra space around him all the time. “Hurry up, Lix! Jeongin gotta run to class in three hours.” With that, he hastily follows you up a narrow, rusty flight of stairs, the place reeks off the smell his dad always despises. He calls it ‘the subway smell’.

When your hand is hovering over the wooden door, it suddenly swings open, revealing an impossibly handsome guy. Chestnut brown hair, midnight orbs, tall nose, and peachy lips. He has you completely frozen for a good five seconds before you snap out of it, raising an eyebrow. Since when did Jeongin have hot guys as his roommates? And since when did your mom even allow him to have roommates? “Uhm sorry, you are..?”

The stranger smiles, perfectly showcasing his white. That’s your weak spot too. You’re a complete sucker for guys with cute smiles. “I’m Jaemin, and uh, my friend asked me to come over and help him with an upcoming exam.” You subconsciously stare at his outfits for a while, seeing no signs of any designers’ pieces. But his posture screams mad confidence, straight back, always maintaining eye contact, like he’s been raised in a wealthy family just like Felix. You can’t help but automatically judge people for what they wear, it’s been drilled into your mindset at some point and you hate yourself for that.

“Hello? Are you okay?” He waves his hand when you stay unresponsive. He partially thinks that you’re mentally judging him for acting like a weirdo.

You laugh nervously, completely oblivious of how Felix is facepalming himself behind your back. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m here to look for my brother.”

“Brother who?” Jaemin narrows his eyes at you skeptically.

“Yang Jeongin? Ring any bell?”

“What? Jeongin never told me he had a sis—“ his gasp is cut off midway when a hand flies to his mouth out of nowhere and pulls him backward. Your brother pokes his head out from behind Jaemin and smiles sheepishly. You can’t help but notice how different his smile is. Oh…where are his braces?

Jeongin says flatly, “Hey, sis, long time no see.” Then he scratches the nape of his neck, unsure of what to say. “Uhm, so what are you doing here?” It’s really been a while since you last saw him. Your dad can’t really do anything because your mom had full custody of raising him and he wanted to stay with her either way. He said he wouldn’t feel like he belongs if he dares to take a single footstep into his billion dollars mansion. Sometimes it feels like you’re just two strangers with the same blood coursing through your veins, family in name, but not in fact. But to be fair, you don’t even have the same last name as him.

“Where’s mom?” You avoid his question before stepping into the studio apartment completely. The last time you were here was when you’re still a freshman in college, you believe. And now all you can do is stand there in awe.

There was nothing but cardboard boxes scattered everywhere, dirty dishes piling up day by day, chipping wallpapers and a crusty old couch that the previous owner left behind as a result of your heartbroken mom. It used to make you grimace but holy shit, mom really did pull herself together. The place is freshly renovated, the smell of new paint is still evident, a teal couch, wooden cabinets, clean kitchen, bathroom on the left along with a brand new TV. Although it’s not the newest model of any sort, you can see how far your mom has come. She worked hard for your brother, and it’s definitely paying off.

Jeongin whispers something into Jaemin’s ears and pushes him out the front door, leaving a very shocked-looking Felix as a witness. “She’s at work,” he states the obvious monotonously.

“Oh,” you chuckle to yourself and let your fingers dance along the kitchen aisle. “Silly me. Anyway, when did you have your braces off? Last week?”

“It’s been a lot longer than that, Y/N. The last time you saw me was Woojin’s wedding.” He massages the side of his temple, sighing heavily. And your heart sinks, a pang of guilt always seems to be inevitable whenever you come over to visit him. Even when it’s only once or twice a year, you could never move on with life without knowing how he’s doing. You tried. “What are you doing here?”

You cut to the chase, “Dad wants you to come and join his party at the hotel this weekend. Nothing major, just another event as an excuse for him to make more money. And also he said he wanted to see you.”

“As if he needs any more money,” your brother sneers. “And he wanted to see me? Don’t be ridiculous. The old man probably wants me there to humiliate the shit out of me so that I’ll stay away from him and his precious jewels.” You perk a brow at what he’s referring you and Felix to, “I’m not gonna be there and smile through the whole thing. I don’t even own a tuxedo for fuck’s sake! Those people aren’t just rich, they’re crazy rich. They’re snoshy, and loud, and act all elegant with thousands of dollars draped over their bodies—“

Felix makes a face, “Snoshy?”

“Posh and snobby.”

“Are you coming for my accent?”

“I dare not.”

He laughs and swings an arm around Jeongin’s shoulders. “Good move, kid. Now get in the car, loser, we’re going shopping.”

The younger boy scrunches his nose in disgust, shoving your stepbrother away. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t make me put you in timeout.”

two. Jeongin feels like he’s sitting on a pile of burning coal instead of the espresso-colored velvet couch in the middle of a Tom Ford store. Soft white light slipping through the ceiling, walls embedded with mirrors all around and closets that are probably made with the finest kinds of wood. Even the fake pot of flowers on the glass coffee table in front of him looks more expensive than everything he owns combined. While he’s receiving dirty looks from some of the staff, Felix on the other hand, is too busy skimming through the watches and ties displayed inside the see-through cabinets.

Being humiliated just because he doesn’t dress like ‘your people’ makes him wanna bust through the door and stay at home for three consecutive days. People already disrespected him in a clothing store, what will happen if he attends that stupid intimate party? He’s not gonna fit into the social circle just because he’s wearing some designers’ pieces because that’s not who he is.

“Wrap those up for me,” you voice, face stoic of any emotions.

A staff at the checkout nervously laces her fingers together, a bead of sweat unknowingly rolls down on her temple. “Miss Lee! Having you buy our newest collection is more than we can ever afford, I’ll make sure to contact our superior to let you—“

“To let me fire you?” You cut her off, voice soft and stern at the same time. “Oh please, don’t bother,” the staff almost jumps back when you place one of your hands on hers, your rings cold against her burning skin as shivers run down her spine. “Minho will take good care of you, I guarantee.”

Jeongin groans in pure frustration when you wave at him, smiling in your luxurious glory when he’s sitting inside a high-end store like an absolute idiot. “Tom Ford? What is wrong with you people?” Felix glares at him and he immediately puts his hands up in defense. “Right, sorry. But would you mind and just strangle me right here right now so that I won’t make a grave mistake by putting that on? Can’t I just wear the tux that I had on Woojin’s wedding?” You bringing Felix along had already suffocated him enough when he literally lives and breathes in Gucci. Jeongin is not a fan of the tiger on his bomber jacket either.

“Eh..it’s a little dated, wouldn’t hurt to buy a new one. And did you really think that your sister’s gonna let you pay by yourself? How innocent,” Felix puts an arm over his shoulders when he refers to the brand new suit jacket, dress shirt and slacks on the marble counter. All that for more than ten thousand dollars, so… he’s gonna need more than ten years to pay you back. “Also, did you know that your sister is scary when someone pisses her off?” He whispers under his breath, slightly scared that you’re gonna catch his words.

“You’re wasting my time,” you hand your credit card over to the other staff, in which he receives with shaking hands. “Get yourself clean up and pack your bags, I’m sure a professional like you would have no problem landing another job like this.”

Jeongin almost gawks at how you’re giving ten thousand dollars away like you’re simply buying a burger at McDonald’s. He even feels bad for the staff who’s on the verge of breaking down, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. She did treat him like he was trying to rob the place but having her fired is far too harsh. Now he knows why he should never be on your bad side. “I think I do now.” He swallows thickly with two hands on his knees, the muscles on his back tense.

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, we—“

You smile coldly, “That’s enough, I believe you all can reconsider your own behaviors towards customers. All of your customers.”

“Yep,” Felix catches the jet black Tom Ford bag when you walk past the couch, seemingly busy talking on the phone with Minho. “Iced cold motherfucker.”

Then, an unfamiliar figure enters the store the moment you walk out the door. Felix and Jeongin also pass by her without a second look even when they both accidentally catch some parts of her conversation with the staff. Fuzzily. So he doesn’t bother to think too much about it. “Good afternoon, ma’am, how can we help you?”

“I’m here to pick up a tuxedo for my boyfriend,” the girl takes off her sunglasses and grins, a smile that can take the breath right out of anyone.

The staff returns her smile and taps away on the iPad while the others are escorting the crying woman into the bathroom. “May we have the name please?”

Felix tosses the bag into the car trunk as soon as you start the engine, hurrying to the backseats after. Jeongin has his arms crossed in front of his chest in the passenger’s seat, no words can describe how frustrated, and mad, and partially relieved he feels right now all at once. All will be revealed in the next episode of how his sister fucks up every relationship he’s ever made, stay tuned folks!

“I was having a migraine just by seeing you handing out one of your five other credit cards. And firing her too? Aren’t you being too harsh? Couldn’t you spare her any sense of kindness at least?”

You laugh monotonously, “There are way worse things that could have happened to her. Trust me, you don’t wanna know what ‘my people’ can do.” This isn’t the first time you’ve seen some self excessively conceited staff who judges people by their social background. And now they had the audacity to insult your brother? Being fired is the only sense of kindness that you can give them for today.

“Great, now I’m gonna have to pay the old man back.”

You carefully take a turn and almost snort at your brother’s pointless concern. “That was my money, in my own defense. I don’t live off dad’s pennies anymore.” Even if it was your dad’s money, he would never make his biological son pay for what he can’t even afford. That’s like…asking a vegetarian why they want to bring down the mood of a BBQ party.

Jeongin replies flatly, looking out the window in boredom. “Huh, funny. Last time I checked, you said you were working at his hotel. Who’s the big boss there? Where does all the money come from? Him. Same thing.”

“Are you familiar with the triggers of migraines?” Felix abruptly places a hand on Jeongin’s shoulders, almost giving him a heart attack.

Jeongin doesn’t know much about migraines but he does know that your stepbrother is high-key a weirdo who just happens to be born with a butt load of money. “Uh…no?” If he happens to live in the same home with this idiot, he’s gonna go insane in a minimum of twenty-four hours. No doubt.

Felix excitedly laces his hand together and you mentally facepalm yourself. You’re so over his discussion about stuff like this because you know damn well he’s just trying to take it out on people after being stuck in med school for two years. He’s convinced that he’s gonna kill people instead of curing them so his mom gave him the consent to drop out to prolong the family’s legacy. “Here are some of them so that you know what not to do; from most likely to least likely: emotional stress, hormone, not eating, the fucking weather, sleep disturbances, certain odors, neck pain, alcohol, bright lights, smoke, certain foods, exercise, sexual activities, etc.”

“Sexual activities? Like a hangover after getting laid?” Jeongin asks.

“No, like just sex itself but it’s not supposed to happen that often so don’t worry too much about that.”

You automatically grit, feeling the need to bleach your ears after this. “Do not encourage him.”

“Hey! This is for educational purposes! Besides, it’s not like he’s still a little boy or whatever, he’s an adult now. #LifeCoachingWithLeeYongbok.” Felix takes no time to defend himself. “Now, I wish I could lecture you about the hypothalamus and give you a long-winded explanation of the science behind it, but Imma spare you for today.” Even if it were possible for you to sew his lips together, there’s no doubt that those unnecessarily inappropriate words would still find their ways to crawl out of his mouth and potentially mess up your little brother’s entire existence.

You let out a humorless chuckle, one that yells ‘hey, stop before you fucked it up for the rest of us’. “I’d hate to poke your enormous ego, but whoever attends your classes is gonna have their life crumbling right in front of their eyes.”

Felix simpers at your attempt of a clapback. “Actually no, people who attend my classes drastically turn their life around because they know what not to do. If you think about it, all of my advice to you has been great. I just don’t practice what I preach,” he tuts in that deepass voice of his, not noticing how Jeongin’s face is morphing into a very disgusted expression. “Just one more shot, I’ll be fine. I can quit whenever I want. I’m not addicted,” he mocks one of his friends who can’t stop drinking for their own good. “No, you won’t you lying bitch. An example of someone who followed that sentiment is right in front of you.”

He fairly believes that he can become the youngest professor to be teaching at a college or university with a Ph.D. in the ‘Getting your shit together’ Department.

But in your eyes, these are just some of the side effects that he got from hanging out with Minho so much. Being bitchy and all. If anything, Minho should be the one who takes his spot and becomes the youngest staff for big places like Harvard or Oxford. And you’d love to continue this nonsense of an argument but you’re already pissed off by that staff previously so you should just let him win or your dad’s gonna find you three ending up in the E.R.

“So this is what I get for setting you up with Chan,” Jeongin crosses his arms and you glance at him sideways, staying silent for the rest of the drive home.

three. Chan dreads the packing process after a long tremendously because not only does he have to trust his idiotic friends to not damage his luggage, he also has to help them pack since they are literal children. Changbin’s butler straight up shakes his head when Chan FaceTimed him, asking about how he usually helps him with preparation for a trip. He really hopes his family pays the man good money because dealing with Changbin’s impulsive, indecisive ass sounds extremely exhausting, and burdensome as well.

“Which one?” Changbin refers to a dozen of black tuxedos hanging inside the dressing room, and Chan feels like his brain’s about to retire.

He exclaims in frustration, “THEY’RE ALL BLACK FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

“No you uneducated moron,” Changbin purses his lips, “There’s carbon black, raisin black, olive black, super black, coal-black,..which one’s sexy enough for me to snatch myself a date at the party?”

“Seo Changbin!”

Chan’s been so sensitive these days, to the point that he decided to whack a mosquito with his MacBook the other day. He did miss the mosquito, but also, he almost killed Jisung who’s taking a nap right beside him in the studio. And apparently, Han Jisung holds grudges. Hence, there’s no way in hell is he gonna help Chan in the ‘Getting Seo Changbin aka the snobby brat the perfect tuxedo’ Operation. It would be way easier if Jisung was here.

Changbin interjects his trains of thoughts, “Silk or wool?”

“Uh- silk.”

“The Gabardine one or the smoking jacket?”

Chan makes a face, “Smoking jacket?” Whatever that means. He didn’t like the shoulder pads on the other one anyway.

“You heard him, Park, go get that ish and wrap it up! Go go go!” Changbin pauses for a second, “Wait, no, actually…just take them both.”

Call him delusional, but in the span of ten seconds, Chan fully believes he’s already entered (or has been pushed into) the Panamera 4 E-Hybrid that’s waiting outside of the mall. Jisung’s sitting in the passenger’s seat, honking the car repeatedly while the Seo family’s chauffeur is constantly throwing daggers at him with his eyes. Now he’s starting to question if bringing Jisung to the mall would be the wisest decision.

“What’s with the grumpy face, grandpa?” He chimes unhelpfully with a pout on his face. And now all Chan wants to do is to deck his perfect teeth and knock upside his head. “You really need to lighten up, old man, you’re going home!” He groans dramatically, arms crossed like a three-year-old.

“Yeah, going home,” Chan says with expressive hands. “To put on a goddamn show for my grandparents so that they won’t have a heart attack knowing that I can’t give two fucks about their promise with some random family in the same circle.” He’s on the verge of breaking down just thinking about going hand in hand in public with another woman that’s not you. It makes him sick to the stomach more knowing that he’s been hiding everything from you.

He’s such an asshole for doing this to you. Avoiding your calls and texts every other day becomes almost all too unbearable for his shoulders. Instead, he’s been trying to leave you voicemails every other week but it seems like you’ve already despised him. The night of Woojin’s wedding comes crashing down on him as he takes a stroll down memory lane. He might as well be cursed because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to have you in his arms again. The saying: “out of sight, out of mind” works for some people as an excuse to forget someone but truth is, he still misses you, all the time, every second, every minute, every hour, every day.

“So you didn’t tell her?” Changbin perks a dark brow.

“Not yet…”

“You should though,”

Chan barks, “I know! She just won’t answer my voicemails,”

“Then call her you coward!” Changbin immediately barks back, fingers still tapping away on his phone, “Look, if Y/N was your date in the first place, you would be crazy giddy and all right now, and not the nervous kind of giddy, but like the exciting kind of giddy. You are so loopy in love with her it makes me wanna feed my eyeballs to my dad’s German Shepherd whenever you’re FaceTiming her,”

Chan’s been clenching his jaw for God knows how long, and now it’s starting to ache. “Don’t say that, she probably hates me. Like you said, I’m a coward. I don’t deserve her and she doesn’t deserve this. Falling for Y/N was probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. All I’ve been doing is tearing us apart. Sometimes I wish I didn’t fall for her—“

“—listen up, you genius. If falling for Y/N is a sin then so be it. Because being in love with her is gonna be the best fucking mistake you’ve ever made in your twenty-three years of existing,” Changbin’s words start zeroing in on Chan, so when he opens his mouth to say something, it automatically snaps closed. “I’ve never seen your eyes do that thing where they sparkle whenever we mention her name or when you’re just simply giggling to yourself while texting her. And have you seen the way that she looks at you? She looks at you like you’re the only person to exist on this planet, like someone she’s ever truly loved more than herself.”

Chan drops his gaze from Changbin to his knees, his heart beating rapidly at the sound of your name. Goddamn, he really misses you. “It’s okay, Bin, even if she hates me. I can—“

Changbin interjects immediately, gripping onto his friend’s shoulders tightly and stares into his tired eyes. “Don’t fucking tell me that it’s okay because I saw you alone in the studio every night. You were crying like a baby!” Seo Changbin gives really good advice because pushing people to their limits, not crossing them, just dangling at the edge so that they can’t stop acting like a loser and get their shit together is what he does for a living. Without getting paid a single penny.

“It’s because I’m losing her! I did that to myself!” Chan shudders at his own words, shaking his head profusely to hold back his tears. The idea of losing you sounds so terrifyingly panic-stricken that he would rather lose anything else than not have you in his life, or just not having you at all in the first place. Chan was an idiot for kissing you that night but something deep down still tells him that “screw life, you said what you said and you did what you did, now go out there and get her back before she falls into someone else’s arms”.

Changbin corrects him, pinpointing his words. “You’re losing her, you didn’t lose her yet. You still have an opportunity to make it up to her.” He knows Chan long enough to know that his friend doesn’t easily wear his feelings on his sleeves, mainly because he’s the eldest in 3RACHA. If he falls, the group’s gonna fall with him. But today, seeing the pool of tears in his eyes, the raw emotions in his voice makes Changbin believe that he’s senselessly, wildly in love with you. He knows damn well that Chan would never let you slip away again.

“This is your chance, to prove to Y/N that you’re still the goofy, caring, dumbass Bang Chan that she has already fallen in love with, not only once, but twice.”

four. “Have you been hearing anything from Chan? He hasn’t called me for two months. Changbin and Jisung have been avoiding me like the plague too.” Woojin asks you with a questionable looking drink in his hand. Minho said he mixed the masterpiece with all of his blood, sweat, and tears. You don’t know how to take it, metaphorically, or literally because both options would make sense. You’re just fairly concerned for Woojin’s liver since he’s been attending too many parties, mainly for business but still, that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna stay away from alcohol.

So much for adulting.

“Not really,” you didn’t want to admit that Chan was ignoring your texts and calls before but it’s quite obvious now that he doesn’t want to talk to you. You didn’t think about it much at the beginning because everything must have been so hard for him in a foreign country where young talents are out there competing with each other like they’re in The Hunger Games. But daily conversations turned into weekly, and then monthly and then basically non-existent. No more ‘Good morning’, no more ‘How was your day?’, no more ‘I miss you’. None of that.

The kiss that day seems like it’s disintegrated into literal dust.

‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’ sounds like utter bullshit now and you’ve never felt so foolish for saying ‘I love you’ to someone you truly believe won’t take your heart and crush it. But Chan did just that. You spent lots of sleepless nights thinking, and bawling your eyes out. You felt so lost and tremendously hurt. You didn’t know what to do. But you soon figured that it’s okay, people aren’t supposed to know what to do in those kinds of situations. You just gotta figure it out by yourself. So wherever he may be, whatever he’s doing, you still hope that he’s happy. That’s all that matters.

Or maybe you’re just too tired to reach out to him again.

You reply with a lifeless smile, bracing yourself for the upcoming party that’s starting in less than an hour. “He hardly talks to me. He doesn’t even text me in full sentences anymore.” You shrug it off casually, ignoring the sound of your heart aching to focus on other stuff for the time being. “Maybe he’s just busy? You know how problematic the music industry is.”

“Being busy isn’t an excuse to ignore your loved ones, Y/N,” Woojin knits his brows together. “Mind you, I still come home to my wife at nine o’clock, every single day.”

You check the time and almost panic, but before you can form a proper sentence, someone’s already dragged you away from the scene, “Look after Jeongin for me! Got it?” You yell back at him only to receive a thumbs up with a grimace. Woojin is the CEO of a well-known IT firm, after all, no one’s gonna mess with Jeongin if he stays by his side. The last thing you want is your brother coming home sobbing his heart out just because some wonderbread doesn’t know when to keep their mouth shut.

“I’m like..” You trail off while tapping away on your phone. “—pretty much free tomorrow morning, right?”

Chaeyoung - your assistant frowns and stops you midway, smoothing out your baby hair. “Not quite, you can’t skip DBR at seven,” she asserts. “And the daily phone call with your dad- I mean, the CEO at half-past six as well.” It’s obvious that everyone wants a coffee in the morning and since it’s a common time to gather, it seems like DBR (or Daily Business Review) is a good idea to just have a meeting before the day starts. The rules are simple. The meeting can not last more than half an hour and to make sure, you all stand up. You talk about the night before, VIPs coming in, the forecast for the coming day and any common issues to the group. Then you all dismiss and go to work. This way, everyone is on the same page 24/7.

“Oh, and a meeting at three too, and also the Kims Are coming in fifteen minutes.” She checks her watch subconsciously and it reads [7:30p.m.]

“Right, right,” you close your eyes for a moment and let the information sink in, slightly taken aback by yourself that you forgot Jennie’s coming back from New Zealand. The party won’t start until eight, you can still spare fifteen minutes and chat with your friend before being pulled away into utterly unnecessary conversations. “I can’t believe I almost forgot Jen’s visiting us…” You murmur under your breath, “God, Chaeng, what would I do without you?”

Chaeyoung pushes your shoulder playfully, “You’d die, obviously.” She’s not necessarily wrong because if it weren’t for her to manage your shitty schedule, your life would become a fucking merry-go-round which makes you all nauseous and dizzy. As if you’re not being tossed around and fucked up enough.

“Hypothetically speaking, I can just hire another assistant and move on with my life,” you smile cheekily.

She follows you towards the front desk, where Lisa is too busy texting someone cute to focus on her main task: greeting people that she despises with her entire existence. “Well, hypothetically speaking, no one can replace me and you would never have the heart to do that anyway.” Again, you hate it when she’s right. And she’s always right. Because she’s Park Chaeyoung.

You put your phone away finally and ask her about your beige suit with matching high-waisted slacks. “How do I look?” Also, you’re never wearing heels again because you’ve learned not to torment your precious feet when you’re gonna be out and about, being dragged around like a rag doll. Woojin’s wedding taught you that.

Chaeyoung gives you the warmest smile, “Like a boss bitch,”

“You have to come with us to Bora Bora this summer! We just opened a summer resort there with a beach and spa services, it’s absolutely delightful! Very fitting for de-stressing, dare I say.”

“How convenient! Do you see these wrinkles? We were all exhausted after the flight from New York. And I’m stressing over how it’s impossible for my son to improve his English. How in the world is he gonna travel the world for business trips now?”

“Ew,” you automatically scrunch your nose at your stepmom’s conversation with the Senator’s wife. “If we’re gonna act like that when we’re their age, I’d rather jump off a cliff.” And Chaeyoung clears her throat awkwardly when she sees your mom waving you over, giving you a pat on your back. There goes your fifteen minutes of freedom.

You quickly fix the lapels of your blazer and muster a sickly sweet smile, just for the Senator’s wife. “Yes, mom?” Or in this case, ‘stepmom’ but you wouldn’t want it to be awkward for the both of them. She does treat you with nothing but kindness and generosity although you’re not her actual daughter.

“Honey,” you almost snort at the nickname. Honey is practically a bee’s vomit. So you don’t really see the point in calling people bee’s barf. Ain’t cool. “You must know that this is the Senator’s wife, she suggested that you and their son can perhaps—“

You cut her off sharply. “No,”

“Y/N, don’t be so rude,” she laughs nervously as the Senator’s wife wears an unreadable look on her face. As if she’s interested in your particular kind of demeanor like you’re a completely different species. She doesn’t seem to be mad or offended at all. “I’m sorry, you see, this girl can play hard to get from time to time…and—“

You elect to ignore every word that comes out of her mouth from this very moment. Not again with this bullshit. An arranged marriage is basically a living embodiment of your biggest nightmare. You can’t imagine being tied down to a person that you barely know just because of their social status or for the sake of mutual benefits. Not to mention, every guy in the circle is all the same anyway. Disrespectful, egotistical, and only show mild interest if the person they’re marrying at least has something to offer that’s related to cold, hard cash in the long run.

It feels like the world just stops spinning when you flutter your eyes upwards and make direct eye contact with him. He enters the front entrance in a full-on black tuxedo, black silk shirt tucked neatly into his pants, chestnut hair rather well-styled, and black dress shoes. The outfit looks like it was made for him, personally tailored to every detail of his body. You almost scowl and look away until you recognize that smile, those midnight orbs.

To your dismay, the Senator’s wife exclaims, “My goodness! I told him not to wear that specific shirt!” before excusing herself from the conversation.

“Uhm is that…”

“Oh yes! That’s their son, Jaemin. Felix used to go to the same kindergarten as him, I believe,” your stepmom explains calmly, watching how you’re slowly becoming interested in the Senator’s only son. So that explains the black Mercedes in front of Jeongin’s apartment. “He got sent to a private school in the UK after graduating from middle school but somehow, I don’t know how he still can’t speak fluently English. Maybe you can help—“

You quickly realize how fast the situation’s escalating and you must say, you’re not letting that happen. “Sorry mom, Jen’s here! I gotta go!” Learning to let Chan go is one thing, but getting yourself into an arranged marriage with another guy who cares about nothing but money is an absolutely torturous idea.

People change, they all do eventually. But sometimes they don’t. Certain things can never fluctuate despite the circumstances. For instance, Kim Jennie still pulls you into a bone-crushing hug like she always does the moment she spots you in the crowd. Her gummy smile didn’t change, her gestures, the way she walks with pride didn’t change and you highly doubt that she no longer sneaks cute boys into the house when her parents are conveniently abroad. But she definitely looks more mature the last time that you guys met in Paris.

“Wow, Jen,” you utter. “You look…good,” Tonight she’s wearing a white dress from Chanel, diamond earrings and bold red lipstick. And don’t even get you started on her ring, you’re pretty sure that it was a present from the brand themselves. She is the ambassador, after all, they would be more than happy to spoil her with their newest collections.

Jennie takes a look at your outfit, twirling you around before breaking into a fit of giggles. “Good? I look good? You look gorgeous! Look at you! Well, actually you look just fine in your PJs as well. Heck, you can even breathe in this thing, I can’t relate,” she beams and keeps on admiring you as if you’re her own life-sized Barbie doll. Baggy clothes can look good, she knows that now.

Jennie clings onto one of your arms and receives a glass of champagne from a waiter, smiling at him softly. “So, how are you enjoying the party, manager Lee?”

You threaten to spill alcohol on her fifteen thousand dollars dress but only proceed to roll your eyes because you value her money too much for the sake of being petty. “It’s kinda meh,” you make a face. “But you know, let’s just get it over with. And to be honest..I’m kind of sick of socializing with people that I don’t even like.”

“Oh really?” Jennie raises a brow curiously when she sees a certain someone in the midst of the chaotic party. “Someone seems to be interested in you though, that cutie over there…” She then motions towards the general direction of Na Jaemin, the person who you’ve been trying to avoid all night. “I think he fancies you. Been eyeing you up and down for the past ten minutes,”

Right, you also forgot that Jennie didn’t know about you and Chan.

“Actually—“

“My God! Did you see that? The Bangs are here!” She gasps and tries to tiptoe in order to get a closer look, allowing her heels to dig into her feet even more. You won’t blame her, the Bangs are basically the biggest developers in Korea. Real estate, investment, tons of things, tons of boring paperwork but you do respect them for what they do. “I heard their eldest son’s dating some up and coming artist, her exhibitions were quite successful, all big hits since last year. It’s mind-blowing!”

You pull your friend back in time when people are shoving each other before her white dress can be contaminated with the bubbly champagne. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to patch your lips together?”

“Damn, he looks fine,” your friend murmurs and has you roll your eyes for one too many times tonight already. “I’m not messing with you, look!” She grabs either side of your face and turns it sideways, towards the front entrance.

You feel like someone just kicked you to the curb and stepped on you, knocking the breath right out of your chest. It’s Chan, it’s really Chan. Navy tuxedo, brown hair styled neatly, he looks even more beautiful than the last time you’ve seen his face. Beside him, hand in hand is another girl. She has the most delicate features and probably the most angelic smile in this world. She’s looking at him all lovingly, the same look you gave him approximately a year ago when you thought that the kiss did mean something to him. Apparently, it didn’t. Now you feel like a paper bag being thrown away, forgotten in the corner, drifting through life like a haze.

Your heart is stuck in your throat, slowly crumbling into dust when you see how he smiles at her, the dimpled smile that you treasured with your entire heart. They look like they are meant to be. And yes, you wanted to see him again but not like this. It’s like karma’s trying to tell you that this is what you get for falling in love with Chan faster than a tick of a clock, for foolishly holding onto false hope. And your butt load of money doesn’t matter anymore because your everything is already being held in someone else’s arms.

Now you’re the one who’s left with a broken heart.

five. In the dead of the night, you no longer feel the sounds of your heart shattering into pieces. Chan’s just making it easier for you to forget him.

“Y/N?” You stay unresponsive at his voice calling out to you. Every cell, every muscle, every neuro inside your body is yelling at you to turn around and throw your arms around his neck. The willpower that you’re mustering to not do that right is impossibly terrifying. But you’re not giving in again, not this time. You won’t be able to piece your heart back together after a second heartbreak. “It’s been quite a while huh? Are you—“

You turn around with glossy eyes, tears threatening to spill any second. Chan’s words get caught dead in his throat upon seeing you on the verge of breaking down. It hurts more knowing that he’s the one who made you cry. “You should have told me..” Your voice cracks and it breaks Chan’s heart into a million pieces at how broken you are. “You should have told me if you wanted to cut it off sooner..” You smile bitterly with tears rolling down on either side of your cheek. You no longer care about how pathetic you may sound or look, you just want to be completely transparent with him.

Another thing that you hate about yourself: how you just let yourself go exposed and vulnerable right in front of his eyes. “What happened to ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’? Does our kiss that night mean nothing to you? Was I setting the bar too high? Was I…getting in your way?” You ask him between quiet sobs, not bothering to put on a fake smile anymore. You’re too exhausted for that anyway. “You didn’t even tell me..that you’re part of the Bangs family, like the Bangs family. What else are you hiding from me, Chan?”

Chan grabs you by the shoulders to hold you back firmly, eyes boarding into yours fiercely. His touch once made your heart weak, now you feel nothing but disgust when his fingertips graze past your clothed skin. “Y/N, listen to me. You don’t understand— she’s not—“

“Y/N!”

Chan snaps his head towards the owner of the voice and grimaces when he sees Jaemin waving at you from the other side of the room. You gotta be shitting me. Chan then looks over at you in disbelief, eyes almost popping out of their respective sockets. Out of all people, you’re dating Na Jaemin? The Senator’s son? Without letting him know? And you’re accusing him of hiding things from you when you’re also with someone new already? “You know,” you wipe your tears away and look him dead in the eye. “I’ve always thought that all the guys in my dad’s social circle were a bunch of ignorant jerks, but it turns out you’re the asshole.”

With that, you briskly walk away with your phone clutched in your hands, knuckles turning white as you bite down your tears. Chan’s gaze trails after your figure until you’re completely gone, falling into another man’s arms like it’s your safe place. Jaemin caresses your cheekbone and smiles at you. You return it too, bitterly. It was supposed to be Chan who makes you feel like the happiest woman in this world, not the one who takes your heart and crushes it into pieces. His heart breaks, again, and again, and again, and again until he no longer feels its presence beating inside his rib cage. There’s something else more than just distance between the both of you now, something that was never there in the first place. Little did you know, you’re not the only one with a broken heart after all.

“Jaemin right?” You sniffle when he lures you away from the party, away from the chaos, away from Chan. “Thank you, I can manage myself now.”

Jaemin shakes his head and speaks to you softly. “Nonsense. I’m staying here with you. The party sucks, but don’t take it personally.”

You chuckle with teary eyes, but you’ve determined not to cry again tonight, especially not in front of the Senator’s son. “Does my brother know that his tutor is the son of the Senator?” Jaemin shakes his head again, the warm smile never once leaves his lips. He gently wipes a single tear that unknowingly rolls down on your cheek and heat flares through your nostrils, a shade of coral scattered across your face. This is why you never cry in front of a stranger.

“There, there you crybaby,” he comforts you with a hand on your shoulder, the other pulling out a handkerchief to dab your tears away. “Who knows the manager of the Carpe Diem Hotel is such a softie. I heard from the staff that you’re fucking scary when someone gets on your bad side.”

“Then don’t get on my bad side,” you roll your eyes in annoyance. “But God, I really can’t blame them. Our people are so posh, and snobby—“

“We’re basically snoshy,” he finishes your sentence and laughs. “Your brother tells me that all the time, if only he knew about my family. He’s most likely gonna murder me in my sleep.”

You roll your eyes, pushing his hand away slightly. “This is why we’ll never get a happy ending of our own. What’s the point of owning all the dollar bills when we’re just sad motherfuckers? And people wonder why we all prefer one night stands. I fucking beg to differ. Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him that night. Maybe I was nothing but an instant filler for his non-existent love life. ‘Do you still want my phone number?’ He didn’t even bother texting me anymore! Bullshit!”

Jaemin doesn’t know you very well but by the looks of it, you’re definitely not the type to lash out on someone very often. You must have been furious with that Chan guy because whatever he’s done to you, shit must have stung. Because you still look at him with those eyes. Eyes of those who are madly in love. He can’t change that.

“Y/N,” he pulls you into a hug and rubs little circles on your back as an attempt to soothe your aching heart. “Listen, it’s okay if he’s not the one. He might be the wrong person at the right time for all I know. And your soulmate is probably taking their sweet ass time because they are completely oblivious about your existence. But they will be there for you, they will, I promise. You know damn well how life likes to toss us around right? Love is patient, love is kind. And it will come one day.”

You snicker and hug him back, grateful for how he’s already consoling you although you’ve only met twice. Maybe he isn’t like the other boys in the same circle, maybe he’s different even when he dresses the same and looks the same. “Cliché sayings are cliché for a reason, Jaemin,” you laugh before pulling away, staring into his starry eyes.

“I know I know,” he squishes your cheeks together and chuckles. “But hey, sometimes they’re not wrong either. Tell you what though, I was so close to decking that guy in the face back there but I didn’t want to go all Alpha Apeshit and appeared as a douchebag then get blood on his goddamn Tom Ford. Just throwing that out there in case it does help you feel better.”

You can feel your tear-stained cheeks cool against the night breeze. The balcony seems to be the only place that you can seek calmness in, mainly because there’s no alcohol and no one to push you from one boring conversation to another with the same topics. Your people are basically repeating themselves over and over again about money and arranged marriages which you’re not very interested in so yes, you don’t see the purpose of throwing parties that only consist of the top 1%. You lean your back against the railings and watch the party from afar, letting the background chatters sink in. Soon this whole place will be within your grasp along with many others, but you’re afraid that you’ll be lost in your own empire.

“No offense,” you turn back to him and smile. “I didn’t think you’d be able to throw a punch at all.”

Jaemin makes a face, “I’m not like those wonderbreads over there,” then smirks devilishly. “But I’ll never be one’s knight in shining armor. Life just teaches me things that our people don’t. For example, living in a mansion won’t teach you how to throw or take a proper punch. Also, wear black because you’ll never know whose blood is gonna be on there.”

“So you’re saying that being sent to boarding school is the best thing that’s ever happened in your life?”

“Not quite,” he winks. “The best thing that’s ever happened in my life is to have the pleasure of meeting you.”

You shove his chest and laugh wholeheartedly, it feels nice to talk to someone like this. “Don’t flirt with me and find yourself another trophy out there, I’m too bitchy to fit in with those chicks.” You jerk your head towards the girls who are all dressed up in fancy dresses and heavy jewelry, finding amusement in how they’re all eyeing Jaemin up and down like he’s a prettier version of an ATM. “And also, what do you expect? You have the look, the money, know how to kick someone’s ass. That’s more than what a trophy wife needs.”

Jaemin scratches his neck sheepishly. “I don’t know how to take that but thank you, you look better than all of them honestly. I don’t know why women choose to suffocate themselves in a dress and torment their feet just to attract guys with thick wallets like me. I think I’ll need to settle down sooner or later and I’m not planning on doing that with a brat who only sees how many dollar signs I can afford on Yelp.” He sighs in pure frustration and a puff of cold air escapes his lips.

“Haha very funny, Na Jaemin is adulting like how the Senator’s son should be in his early 20s,” you joke. “And no, I’m not gonna make fun of you for that. You want me to pinpoint where we are right now? Adulthood.”

“No! I’m being serious!”

“Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“Let me take you on a date and prove it.”

“You’re drunk,” you laugh nervously. But suddenly he inches in closer and your breath hitches in your throat. Nope. He’s dead-ass serious. “You’re being fucking serious, aren’t you?”

Jaemin brings your hand up and presses a small kiss on your knuckles, “See you around, manager Lee.” before sliding away with ease, leaving you blushing so furiously that you almost forgot your heart was broken that night.

six. While you feel like you’re about to have a heart attack because of a date, Kuma - Jennie’s Pomeranian is complaining to you with his eyes about his first world problems aka, Jennie leaving his favorite toy back in New Zealand. “Yes, yes, I get that it’s absolutely unforgivable of her to do that.” You acknowledge and nod absentmindedly, petting him gently. “If anything, I can do you a favor and douse one of her favorite dresses in pickle juice.”

“But also what?” You tilt your head slightly, “She what?! She insulted your favorite tuna bites?! She’s a witch! Burn her!”

“I can’t stand the goddamn smell, that’s all.”Jennie glares at you while hauling her suitcases out of the closet. “You dramatic, bitchy, ungrateful ass.”

“Jen, it’s just a dinner date.”

Jennie dodges your eye roll and proceeds to rummage through one of her ten suitcases, throwing dresses and bodysuits all over the floor. She’s lucky the suite has plenty of extra space or you won’t be able to see the floor in the next fifteen minutes for all you know. Kim Jennie goes ham on picking out clothes for her favorite bitches because not only is she one of the most acclaimed actresses but she’s also a fashion icon, influencer, and Chanel’s one and only darling. Hence, knowing that you’re going on a date with the dress code: formal; she freaked out and dragged you all the way from your house to the hotel that she’s staying in.

You facepalm yourself onto the extra king-size bed and sighs into the soft blanket. Yeah, that’s how rich the Kims are. Not king-size, but extra king-size that can fit at least four people but still have extra leg space. You know where to have your girls’ night this weekend now because you’d rather not have Ryujin whip your ass for bringing friends over.

Your groan grows louder when you keep hearing Jennie repeats “I’m a genius, a fucking genius!” to herself over and over again until she stops. And that’s when you decide to push yourself off the bed carefully to not wrinkle your clothes. “Look at this baby!” She holds up a long, bedazzled gown with spaghetti straps. Gives you a very 70s vibe but you’re not mad at it, you think you might be able to pull it off. “Listen, if you don’t look good in this, I’ll call Chanel and drop it as a flop, got it?”

Wow, Chanel is hanging on the edge of flopping by a strand of hair just because of you. The pressure’s on.

Jennie shoves you into the ridiculous-sized bathroom with marble floor and all, she’s definitely not letting you wear one of your blazers today. “Knock knock,” she impatiently leans against the door after what seems like ten minutes. But all Jennie’s met with is dead silence, she’s starting to get worried now. “Y/N, you good?”

You barge out of the bathroom with a panicked expression, shrieking. “Kim Jennie what were you thinking?!” When she gives you a what-do-you-mean look, you mentally groan to yourself and are kind of ready to call the date off. You’re not going out looking like this. “It’s 64 degrees outside and you’re making me wear this?!” You do a full 360 turn to only to show her the awfully low cut on the back of the dress, and she immediately claps happily like a seal. God, what is wrong with your friend?

“Stunning! Absolutely stunning!” Jennie nods to herself like the evil mad mind genius that she is. “You’re pretty tolerant, so I think it’s not gonna be a problem.”

“Do I have a say in this?” You eye her in defeat when she helps you on a dainty necklace and a pair of silver earrings.

Jennie puts her hands on her hips and almost laughs, admiring you like a piece of art, a creation that she will forever keep in her heart. “What makes you think so?” And off to the date, you go.

Jaemin picks you up not long after, wearing a full-on white suit in his black Mercedes. It’s not hard to guess that it’s his favorite. Since the party from last week, both of you have been texting and FaceTiming non-stop, it almost feels like he’s making up for the lost time that Chan’s wasted. For the Senator’s son, he’s surprisingly approachable, very quirky but charming at the same time. Jaemin does give an effort to make you laugh every time he sends you the same memes over and over again. Hey, it’s not your fault his humor is impeccable.

But being one of the Elite, you can’t blame him for wanting to do it the old-fashioned way. Fancy restaurant, having waiters drape white napkins over your lap, cheesy classical music in the background and the typical candles to set the romantic atmosphere. The place is quite busy too, some ladies in their forties are wheezing in helpless laughter as a waitress secretly shoots them dirty looks while a group of businessmen is eating in silence, an old couple is feeding each other in the corner and a younger couple that you don’t really pay attention to since they’re too far away. Sometimes you wonder what that feels like, to have someone by your side forever.

Maybe forever is just not meant for you.

Forever might not be for you, but going on a date feels like a fresh breeze passing by after so much pain and agony. Jaemin always tries to make you feel as comfortable as possible but still manages to make you laugh until your stomach hurts and tears are evident in the corners of your eyes. He’s not one of those guys who’s not used to hearing the word ‘no’ and never pushes your boundaries. But the feeling’s not there, it’s just not there at all and you wish that it was. You can’t play along then end up breaking his heart later on. No one deserves going through that, not even the ones who lost your trust.

“Okay..” Jaemin peels his eyes away from his crème brûlée’s when you set your fork down. “Just to be clear, I don’t hate you but I would never date you.” And he immediately chokes on his big bite, coughing furiously into the white napkin. You’re very straight to the point, he appreciates that, but still, ouch.

“Tell me three valid reasons why I should stop going after your heart.”

“One, I don’t wanna break your heart. Two, I don’t want you to break mine. And three, I just threw it in the trash.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes rather dramatically, holding back a lighthearted chuckle. “So what? You got your heart broken by some bastard and now you’re gonna distance yourself from everything that’s related to ‘love’? Do you really want to spend the rest of your life like this? Alone? In your giant mansion with your butt load of money?”

“Yes,” you nod without hesitation, trying to ignore the bitter feeling that’s rising in your throat. “And technically I can adopt as many puppies as I want to.”

“Fair enough,” he sighs and moves a bit to the side. “There’s your man, twelve o’clock.”

You feel like you would personally gouge your eyes out of the sockets the moment they land on Chan and his current girlfriend at the opposite table if you weren’t sane enough for a Michelin-rated restaurant. They’re both wearing black, laughing and talking with each other like they’re the only beings left in this world. You wonder if fate could be a bit more generous to you, just a little bit, then would you be there with Chan instead? You’ve told yourself one too many times not to dwell on the past but like always, you never learn. And you know that you’re dumb but you still don’t get why fate forces two people to meet each other knowing damn well that one of them is gonna leave the other behind.

But this time when you look more closely, his smile looks somewhat forced and the dark circles under his eyes have been darkened by time. He looks so tired and drained but still keeps up the smile for his date. A pang of guilt hits you hard when you realize that you should have listened to what he had to say at the party. He doesn’t look happy, that’s what ticks you off.

Chan subconsciously flickers his eyes upwards and meets yours, completely frozen in his spot like a statue. His smile falters, eyes going wide from surprise, utterly, undeniably speechless. It’s not easy to read what’s going on in his mind but you’re positive that he doesn’t seem to expect to see you in this kind of situation. He quickly averts his gaze back onto the other girl, laughing nervously so that she won’t turn around and accidentally see you. Your heart unknowingly sinks to the pit of your stomach.

“It shouldn’t be like this,” you never knew that you’ve been crying until Jaemin gently wipes your tears away with his handkerchief, his eyes softening at your sobbing form. “But it is what it is.”

seven. Chan quickly calls in a cab for his date after sliding his credit card across the counter. He grimaces slightly when she presses a goodbye kiss on his cheek, and then waves her off when she enters the taxi. After receiving his bill, Chan pushes himself through the busy waiters and waitresses, mumbling small “sorry” along the way until his feet lead him to the long flight of stairs.

And he sees you standing there with your back against him, fiddling with your fingers nervously. He knows you’ve never been good at hiding how awkward you are so it gives him a tiny bit of hope when he finds out he still has this kind of effect on you. But when he takes a few more steps forwards, his jaw almost drops to the floor when he can finally get a closer look at your dress.

Chan’s never seen you in a dress before, but he believes that you have the ability to pull off anything. He’s not wrong after all. The dress hugs your figure perfectly and in the most flattering way, leaving him in complete awe. But you’d never choose a dress, even when it’s a formal dinner. Goddamn, that kid is one lucky son of a bitch, he mentally curses.

You meet Chan once again on a balcony, but tonight you’re met with a sky without stars. It seems like they can’t even muster the courage to see where this conversation is gonna go.

“What’s her name?” You ask breathlessly, still not willing to make direct eye contact with him.

Chan inhales deeply, and exhales, “Her name is Eunji. Apparently, our families had an agreement that we’re gonna be engaged once we reached a certain age. I’m so sorry for shutting you out without a proper explanation, I really am. I’m such an asshole.”

You finally can look at him without getting all teary-eyed, your lips trembling. “It’s alright,” then you quickly look away to avoid any awkwardness. “You guys look good together, I’m happy for you both.” And when Chan doesn’t say anything, you decide to ask him softly. “But are you?”

He buries his face into the palms of his hands and sighs heavily. “I- I don’t know, I just don’t want to let them down. And I tried so hard to tell them that I already had someone else but I’m just scared that—“

“That they won’t accept me because you didn’t know that I do in fact, make cold, hard cash?” You stare deeply into the distance and laugh humorlessly. “After all those years, I had no idea, no fucking idea that you were Christopher Bang, like the Christopher Bang, the one who’s supposed to take over the family’s business, the most eligible bachelor in the country.”

Chan grabs you by the shoulders, catching you off guard when your noses are barely touching, his warm breath fanning your face. “Speak for yourself. You’ve never even told me that you were Felix’s stepsister. All those years of college, and I only know that you’re the manager of the Carpe Diem Hotel now. And why are you dating the Senator’s son again? Last time I checked, you’re still leaving me messages even when I went MIA or put the phone on silent all the time.”

“I can date whoever I want to,” you try to shove his arms away but his grip only gets tighter. “And no shit, you know I’m not into guys like that. We’re not dating, he offered me dinner after seeing me so miserable at the party.”

And you quickly assert with a fake smile. “But that’s not the point, is it? Let me guess, if I were not some daughter of the CEO of the biggest hotel chain in the country, then you would never tell your parents about me, would you? You’d rather marry Eunji so that your grandparents won’t potentially disown you instead.”

Chan shakes his head profusely because he could never, would never, can never, and will never trade you for anything else in this world. “No, you don’t understand- I- just- just give me some time and-“ He loves you too much to the point that his heart bleeds a bit whenever you catch his gaze from across the table and return to your conversation with Jaemin, giggling and laughing at his lame jokes like nothing’s ever happened. But his biggest problem here, is how can he convey his love to you once again when you’ve already despised him with every single cell inside your body?

You narrow your eyes at him, slightly amused by how he’s stuttering. “And?”

“Let me make it up to you,” he tells you after running a hand through his brown locks. “Come with my family on a cruise trip next month in Singapore. I’ll prove myself to you and do everything in my power to get your trust back. Even if things can never be the same again. I can’t lose you, I won’t let you go this time. Bring whoever as your plus-one, just not that kid…I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“How are you so sure that you’re not gonna break my heart again?”

Chan says breathlessly and goosebumps automatically bubble up on your skin at his words, “I’m not. Because I know that no matter how many times I stupidly, or impulsively hurt you, you will always stay. And I’ll always be there to gather the broken pieces as if you’ve never felt the pain before.”

A long, muffled silence occurs between both of you. You quickly look away after a good ten seconds of making eye contact with Chan. He’s having that kind of effect on you like how he used to and you’re determined not to fall again. You’d hate to have your heart broken twice by the same person. “You do know that we wouldn’t have worked out anyway right?”

Chan doesn’t say anything, instead, he turns around and calls a ride for you. His eyes look stormy that night, impossible to read as if there are so many things on his mind at the same time to the point that his head becomes cloudy and nothing makes sense anymore. He doesn’t even wave you goodbye when you get inside the car but his gaze never leaves your figure until it’s completely gone in the distance.

You know that it’s something more than just love because your feelings for Chan are still there even when he’s not. You’re just far too busy being depressed inside your bedroom, under your fuzzy blanket to notice them. Now they’re back, again, for the third time, much, much stronger and more powerful. You don’t know whether this is hazing because falling for someone more than twice just sounds unhealthy for you, a person who lives off donuts for two weeks straight because you need the push of the sugar crush in order to avoid caffeine. Chan just stepped into your life like how he did about three hundred and sixty-five days ago and completely broke down the fort you were trying to build.

Call you an idiot, but is it bad to think that he’s not planning on leaving any time soon?

eight. You hate cruises for plenty of reasons, and one of them being, not surprisingly, a cruise is basically a hotel on water. The concept of a hotel floating on the water makes it a trillion times cooler and unnecessarily overrated. In your defense, having a massage or partying ‘til dawn while not knowing when you’re gonna drown to your imminent death is petrifying. Maybe you’re just bitter about the fact that people don’t appreciate normal hotels enough, because they really don’t.

Okay, if you have to choose one thing not to hate on a cruise, then it’s probably the mini theatre that Chan personally demanded for his chaotic group of friends. Hey, privileged people need some wholesome, chill times with friends too.

But the fact that almost everyone has already seen Stranger Things makes you feel more like a grandma than you already are. These are the times where you rarely choose to sit next to Jisung because you’re both on the same boat for once. Other times, you’re just bickering like the reincarnations of every movie where the main characters constantly want to put the other’s head on a chopping block but end up falling in love anyway; except, you will never fall in love with Jisung. That’s so creepy on so many levels.

Creepier than whatever the fuck of a demonic image that Hyunjin’s about to show you, being the pest that he is. “We have four votes for Stranger Things and four votes for Spider-Man: Far from home,” he announces in that irritating voice of his while hogging the whole bowl of popcorn to himself. “So what’s it gonna be, Han? Choose wisely, my friend,”

Jisung sips on his Coke and points his index finger at his roommate as if he’s accusing Hyunjin of murdering someone, “I’m with Y/N, because screw you,” he’s not entirely wrong because, without a doubt, Jisung’s soul is gonna detach itself from his body after the first episode. “And if Chan were here, he’d agree with me,”

“Nope,” Chan conveniently steps in when you’re about to do a fist bump with Jisung, taking the seat on your right despite plenty of other (about twenty-six) empty seats. “We’re watching Stranger Things, it’s been almost thirty minutes and all you guys have been doing is aiming at each other’s throat,” he whips out a small remote from his pocket and clicks the ‘play’ button without anyone’s consent. He has no right to do that! You don’t think you’ll ever forgive him after this.

Chill time isn’t so wholesome anymore.

So basically the whole plot is about a boy going missing, flipping a whole town from Indiana upside down. Everyone spends days and nights, desperately trying to find him until one day, a little girl with a shaved head comes into the story and makes the entirety of the movie that much weirder. And more horror-worthy when she’s being chased by ‘bad guys’. This is another reason why you hate Chan: he can’t be bothered about what he’s watching because he’s only here for good food. And probably your suffering. But mostly just good food.

Actually, it might be the other one because you can clearly see that stupid grin on his face when you pull your hood low enough to cover half of your eyes so that you won’t be potentially haunted at night by whatever’s ready to pop on screen. And Jisung’s already clinging onto one of your arms like his life depends on it, legs quivering in his boots. You really don’t wanna accidentally elbow him in the face when there’s an inevitable jump scare.

“Chan, you sadist, I hope you’re happy for doing this to me,” you sneer at him with gritted teeth, frustrated about the fact that you can’t singlehandedly feed him to the sharks.

Chan leans in slyly, lips dangerously close to your ear. “That’s for you ogling Tom Holland,”

Jisung automatically gasps scandalously, once again opening that useless mouth of his and decides to put you on trial. “A compromise was almost made, Y/N you monster!” (Actually no, he’d never survive law school). Jisung wiggles himself out of his seat faster than a lightning bolt and snuggles closely next to Woojin, who’s staring at the screen like someone’s forcing him to watch one of the worst pantomimes to ever exist. Great, now you’re stuck with Chan in the very front seat, having no choice to hold onto him like he’s your last option before falling into your impending misery in the next sixty minutes.

This asshole is really—

The moment you’re ready to pour a paper cup full of Sprite over his head, Jisung and Hyunjin just happen to whimper and yelp at the same time, with the same amount of awfully loud volume, spilling their own endless string of curse words with the same length while holding onto whoever’s lucky enough to sit next to them. So naturally, you stupidly let your guard down and cower like a child watching Snow White for the very first time and being absolutely terrified of the ugly witch. You’re far too busy thinking of ways to bury Hyunjin alive to realize that you’ve unknowingly pulled yourself closer to Chan and hid your face in his chest.

“Hwang Hyunjin you fucking moron!” Jisung yells at the top of his lungs when another demonic scene occurs, sending actual chills down his spine. He almost misses the feeling of still having a vendetta with his friend back in the good old high school days when they’re still wrestling each other every two minutes. Also, you’ve never felt this bad for Jisung (or even related to him) in a fairly long time, because… same.

Hyunjin can officially kiss your Jeep goodbye because you’ll never let him borrow it again. That idiot.

“You’re such a baby,” Chan comments and purposely cuts off your trains of thoughts so that you can peel yourself off him and look straight into the screen again, at the wrong time.

“I’m not your baby—“

You hiss in panic and throw yourself onto him again, trying to calm yourself by listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat and persistent pace of breathing. You’re already mentally apologizing to Jennie because you’re 75% sure that she’s not gonna be able to sleep with you sticking to her side like a jellyfish. There was this one time you all watched The Conjuring because Jisoo insisted so much and except for her and Lisa, no one got a wink of sleep that night so you’re not sure how you’re gonna survive this when there’s no pillow or blanket to protect you from all of the horrifying sound effects and imageries.

Chan secretly bumps his fist with Jeongin in the back, who’s a little bit too occupied with Hyunjin crushing his bones every two seconds. The perks of hitting on a friend’s sister. Works like a charm, he smirks internally. “Little Y/N is scared, how precious,” he looks down at you, and a smile blooms on his lips, enjoying the blissful feeling of having you in his embrace again.

“I am not scared!” You still can’t learn to accept that sometimes, admitting to your defeat is better for your own good.

“Then why won’t you look at the screen then?”

“Because- oh my God, what the hell was that?!”

“It’s okay to admit that you’re scared, I can protect you,” Chan boasts with his chin high up. And you’d love to blush at his affectionate words right now, really. Only if he didn’t quickly jump into conclusion because of your crush on Tom Holland and chose the movie in the span of a split second.

“Christopher, this isn’t funny!”

“Well, I certainly didn’t try to insult you in any means at all, ma’am. I don’t see what’s the problem here,” he singsongs, gently draping an arm around your shoulders. This time, he’s glad that you didn’t end up punching him in the gut.

“Shut the fuck— Jesus Christ!” You screech when the demonic image keeps flashing in your mind, driving your head around in circles. “Chan, I swear to God, you’ll regret—“ you don’t even bother to finish your sentence and have no choice to hold onto him like he’s your only source of life, without him, you’ll soon disintegrate into fine dust and slip away easily. If Lisa was here, she would record the whole thing and play it on the slideshow of videos that she’s been preparing for your upcoming birthday. Thank God she’s playing beer pong with BamBam somewhere on the second floor.

That sounds so melodramatic but it’s not necessarily wrong. Chan still has that same sense of comfort whenever your skin comes in contact with his, even when it’s a thin layer of fabric away, you can still feel how badly it burns like a reminder for you that he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. Nothing’s going to change that, your intuition has told you before but you elect to ignore it. You’re starting to realize that you let Chan into your life again just like that, let him tear down your walls, and lit your heart on fire.

But what you don’t know is that his heart is still beating vigorously in his chest cavity for you, after all this time. His one and only.

“Hey, hey,” he tells you softly.

“What? Don’t make me look, I don’t wanna see it, I don’t wanna hear it either, I’m scared okay just don’t—”

“No, Y/N, look at me,” Chan chuckles and takes your face in his hands, forcing you to stare into his starry eyes. All you can see is an entire cosmos, more wondrous and beautiful than everything you’ve ever seen. He shines like he owns the entire universe in his existence, glowing from within and leaves you utterly speechless. Your head starts to become fuzzy and your heart dips when you realize how terribly close you are to him.

Chan takes your head and gently places it on the left side of his chest, smiling. “Can you hear that? It’s your fault, yeah, you did that to me,” The calm rhythm of his heart cancels everything out; all you can see is him, and all you can hear is his heartbeat. You spend approximately one second debating whether you should kiss him and you hate every moment of that one single second, you dread every nanosecond of it.

“Are you still afraid?” He whispers and you shake your head almost immediately without replying with what’s in your head. Like no shit, you’re more than just petrified right now, this is by far, one of the scariest, most frightening, and most nerve-racking decisions you’ve ever made in your life.

At that moment, it feels as if you’re standing on the edge of a cliff with him by your side. And you do exactly what he’s asking you to because it’s the only thing that you can do.

You jump.

nine. Weirdly enough, you miss college.

You miss those days where you had to finish the entirety of your morning routine in a span of five minutes so that you could be out the door and not miss the bus. You miss those moments where you had to skip two steps at a time on the longass flight of stairs just so your professor wouldn’t have another excuse to yell at you other than the overdue assignments.

You also miss college parties, not because they’re ‘lit’ but because things were simpler back then. People come, drink, get wasted, fight someone (or make out with someone), and then go home. Actually, no, they usually make out first thing first in the front porch because college students don’t give two fucks about their dignity and decency. You definitely didn’t miss that. And also those times where you ogled Chan during lunch breaks or when you both took the usual 4419 to college on a daily basis.

Everything gets a little more nostalgic when Minho slides your usual mojito across the counter and gives you that cat-like smile of his. Somehow, it makes you wanna hug him and bite his head off at the same time but you’re not wasted enough for that yet. You just need to get your mind off Chan when he’s too busy being tormented by his own family.

“Zero sips and you’re already dreaming about Chan? Gee, if I’m not mistaken then you’re so in love with him, manager Lee,” Minho is in his element, surrounded by good music and alcohol. In which, there’s no point in arguing with him anyway because you’re basically vulnerable and defenseless when everywhere you go, you see Chan’s face.

You down half of the mojito in one go and the bartender in front of you almost staggers backward from utter shock. Normally, you’d be snapping back at him with a witty retort instead of being all sappy and dreamy like this. This is not good. “My my, you’re really thinking about him, aren’t you? So tell me, how does that feel? To be deeply in love with another human being,” he leans forward to approach you, propping his head up with his hands. You murmur a small “bullshit” and proceed to toss your head back for a bit, shaking the weariness away.

“Listen, I might be heartless and all but when I accidentally put Tabasco into Jisung’s orange juice instead of honey the other day, I did actually feel bad about it. I felt a rush of empathy for a split second there,” Minho muses when he sees the corners of your lips curl upwards, stretching into a small grin. “It was wild, and then I just thought; is this what it feels like…to be a decent human being? Edgy, I know.”

You laugh dryly with boredom glinting in your eyes. “You know, if you’re going to distract me from thinking about Chan, at least be good at it,” his mouth drops open at your statement, completely gobsmacked. Oh, how the tables have turned. He’s never felt so defeated and useless before. Usually, he’s the one who makes others speechless. It’s not hard to tell that he hates it when everything just flips upside down.

“Bitch please,” Minho says with puckered lips. “Even if I spiked your drink, you’d still repeat his name in your dream like a mantra because you’re so fucking whipped for him,” he stops for a while to train his undivided attention on the Tequila Sunrise for Jisung who’s already smashed after two beers. He can really use some counseling, Minho ponders. “And you wouldn’t kiss Chan back if you hated him, gotta love stupid feelings that you can’t even explain for yourself, am I right?”

You take another sip of your drink and exhale, staring into his sharp eyes. “Excuse me, who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Lee Minho, genius, dancer, fashion icon by day, party animal by night, personal counselor,” he holds back the urge to slap you across the face with Felix’s Gucci slippers and instead, musters the sweetest smile. Being a bartender and a potential alcoholic at the same time definitely doesn’t help because he wishes he could just chug a whole bottle of vodka before you complain to him about your miserable love life. “I believe I’m qualified enough to give you some solid advice. So shut up and listen to me—“

“—I’m trying! But Minho, what if I’m the delusional one? What if he just wanted a fresh start so that we wouldn’t be so awkward towards each other? A kiss can’t possibly mean something. I mean, if you consider our New Year’s kiss, it meant so much to me but I don’t know if—“

And now, Lee Minho, self-proclaimed, genius, dancer, fashion icon by day, party animal by night, personal counselor; doesn’t have the slightest earthly idea of what the hell he should do. God, serious relationships are so fucking complicated to the point that his brain is yelling for retirement. Usually, he just poisons his friends with a dose of some common sense and solid logic to knock them back to reality in order to figure out whatever they’re going through. But this time, he thinks he should just let you fall further and further until Chan catches you instead.

Now that he’s thinking about it. Chan definitely didn’t pay him enough to be the bartender and a personal therapist for the love of his life.

“Seems like you’re not enjoying the party,” you instantly turn around because you can realize the owner of the voice in the matter of a split second. The moment Chan’s eyes are locked with yours, your heart immediately jumps up to your throat and then drops back down to your chest. If only this was because of the mojito, you’d feel better about it somehow but unfortunately, Minho gave you a non-alcoholic one today.

You can tell that he’s already hammered by the smell of alcohol when his warm breath brushes over your nose and how his cheeks are redder than usual. Minho quickly excuses himself from the scene to save himself from witnessing a mediocre, drunk confession session. And also because people are starting to pour in by the second, so the bar will probably be overpopulated in the next ten minutes or so. It’s downright a college party again except for the fact that everyone is floating on water but still, alcohol-thirsty pigs are still pigs. Everyone’s sloppy and lightheaded to the point that you’re already hearing the janitors crying themselves to sleep tonight.

“I’m enjoying it more than you if you couldn’t tell already,” your face morphs into a frown when Chan giggles and stumbles around like a madman. He would have facepalmed himself onto the marble counter with various bottles that probably cost more than one of his cars combined and made a scene if it weren’t for your hands steadying the blades of his shoulders. The warmth of your fingers radiate through his denim jacket and sinks into his skin, making his head a little fuzzy while you’re wondering how the fuck did he get this batshit drunk when Minho was with you the whole time.

“What the hell did you have?”

“I don’t know, BamBam asked me to try out some of his new cocktail recipes,” Chan hiccups and allows you to fling one of his arms over your shoulders. “Guess I didn’t consider dinner with my family afterward. Mom said I should just get some rest but I was thinking of you, so voila, I’m here now,” he gives you that signature boyish grin of his that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. But this time, your frown just grows deeper because since when did BamBam know how to make cocktails? And almost knocked Chan out too? You know why you should just stick to Minho’s mojito now.

Your eyes widen in panic as Chan almost trips over your foot when Hyunjin accidentally bumps into his back. “Oh Y/N, I’ve been looking for you,” the younger boy tells you with a Margarita in his hand, curiosity laced in his eyes. “No, scratch that, actually, some guy called Jaemin is looking for you,” Hyunjin then leans closer to a very-shocked-looking you and tries to shout over the loud music. “Who is that guy anyway? I heard rumors going around that he’s the Senator’s son or—“

Even though Chan’s not very sober at the moment and all he can hear is “some guy” and “the Senator’s son”, he knows that he needs to get you out of here as soon as possible. That bastard, Chan thought he’s already eliminated him from the guest list. Without a second thought, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you away from Hyunjin although he’s not the real threat here, piloting you through the sweaty bodies grinding against each other to the EDM music in the background. He was gonna take up the DJ duty tonight but really…is he gonna let you have another encounter with Na Jaemin? Yeah, he thought so too.

Before you can even register the whole situation, Chan’s already backed you up against a wall in his bedroom, a hand over your mouth with the other on the small of your back. Time seems to stop when you see the golden flecks in his eyes, floating softly in his nebula, and you’re absolutely, definitely, totally falling for him all over again. He’s so incredibly beautiful it leaves you moonstruck, wondering how can God be so unfair to make Chan look better than you even when he’s wasted.

Everything starts moving once again when a series of “have you seen Y/N?” echoes through the hallway and you can physically feel Chan tighten his grip on your body, jaw clenching too much that it might hurt. You know that voice all too well; Na Jaemin is here. And he’s looking for you. But you can care less right now because your heart automatically does a flip when Chan makes direct eye contact with you, his index finger hovering over his lips.

“Y/N, I need to tell–“

But this is not the time to fawn over how good he looks, you tell yourself with such determination.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” you help Chan walk over to his king-size bed, his limbs wobbly and unstable. After a solid minute of struggling and panting, you finally have Chan laying on the bed, legs dangling off the edge. While you’re too busy unfolding his blanket, he’s murmuring gibberish that you can’t quite, choosing to ignore it like how you’ve ignored Woojin snoring at two in the morning during a camping trip. “Chan,” you shake his shoulders slightly. “You’re gonna fall flat on your face if you sleep like this,”

You hiss through gritted teeth helplessly. “Chan!” But he doesn’t even move a single muscle. “You idiot, why did you agree to drink all of those cocktails?” You’re going to rip BamBam’s head off of his neck next time with your bare hands, it’s on. “Chan!” Your last attempt of waking him up fails miserably when he scrunches his nose a little, then proceeds to move on with his slumber.

Yeah, he’s definitely gone.

Or not.

Just when you’re about to give up and leave him as he is, Chan grabs you by the wrist and pulls you flush against his chest, heart thundering more vigorously than ever. He easily rolls the both of you to the side with no effort, only to get a better grip of your waist, his breath tickling your nose. At the suddenly close proximity, you can take a closer look at his long lashes that framed his eyes perfectly, his tall nose and his plump lips. Chan looks so ethereal and otherworldly that you wonder what it feels like to run your hands through his hair, dance your fingers against his jawline and press your lips against his.

But you also notice the bags under his eyes and how his brows are slightly knitted together. He doesn’t seem to be doing a great job at taking care of himself after all and it makes your heartache knowing that he didn’t have any other choice. It’s no one’s fault, really, though, in scenarios like this, people would love to point fingers and make assumptions out of something that they don’t even know. Falling in love with Chan for the third time can be the best thing that’s ever happened to you or it will eventually push you off a cliff, straight into a downward spiral.

Whatever the consequences are, you’d never trade him for anything in this world. Even if it means getting your heart broken all over again. You’re willing to walk through fire and step on thorns just to be by his side again. But at the same time, you’re not sure if he feels the same because if not, you’ll be left with nothing. Maybe he’ll forget all of this in the morning. Maybe it’s never meant to happen anyway.

Chan suddenly pulls you in more and his lips are terribly close to your flesh, your eyes going wide in panic. Moments later, soft snores escape his mouth as his chest heaves up and down in a calm rhythm. It reminds you of when he hugs you in the theatre, embarrassment soon flares through your nostrils and sprinkle a shade of coral on the apples of your cheeks. You can’t help but smile, arms snaking around his firm waistline.

Chan hugs you so tightly that you blindly believe that he needs you. As if it’s his way of saying “stay, it makes me feel at ease that you’re right here, in my arms again”. No one has ever really needed you. As sad as it sounds, your family can still move on with life just fine even when you’re not there. Your friends have their own jobs and other relationships as well, they don’t actually need you. You’ve never felt anything quite like this before, it’s a little bit frightening but also a little bit tempting.

Yep, you think to yourself. I’m done for.

Goddamnit BamBam.

ten. Chan groans loudly when the early daylight hits him like a truck, knocking him out of his semi-unconscious state. Hangovers still hit him hard, but this time, shit hurts way worse because someone still has a lot to learn as a mixologist. He smells like alcohol, probably looks like trash, and his head is fuzzy yet [insert culprit’s name] is standing right in front of him, all dressed up like he’s about to do a drug transaction.

“Bro,” he narrows his eyes to do a full scan of the bedroom, plopping himself back down only to realize that you’re not here. “You fucking suck at making cocktails,”

BamBam only chuckles humorlessly at that, five of his drinks didn’t even put a dent on Changbin yet the infamous Bang Chan wasn’t able to stay sober to not have a girl carry him to his bedroom. “Drink,” he gives the glass of water in his hand a light thrust before handing Chan a tablet of aspirin with the other. He’s also decided that it’s a lovely Sunday morning and he doesn’t have time for this shit. He should be chomping on breakfast in bed with something on the TV right now. But, he can’t risk having Chan roam the cruise looking all homeless and insane.

“I can’t believe not only did you let Y/N into your room, slept in the same bed as her,” Chan chokes on the big gulp of water that he’s just taken, and everything from last night starts pouring back to him like an unwanted nightmare. He was far too drunk to even remember every detail, he just prays to whatever gods up there that he didn’t say anything stupid. “Yet you didn’t even confess, great fucking job.” BamBam asserts like the true friend that he is, accidentally pushing Chan closer to his imminent misery.

Chan snaps his head up and almost screams aloud that his heart’s about to jump out of his chest, “You wanted me to what?!”

“You heard me,” BamBam tongues the inside of his cheeks in annoyance, regretting the amount of money that he spent to tip one of the cruise’s staff so that he could sneak his own alcohol in safely. “You know what that means? That means you still didn’t shoot your shot! You did not shoot your shot! Which entails? You’re gonna be lonely for the rest of your life and eventually die alone. You’re gonna die alone! You hear me?”

Chan thinks it’s way too early for him to endure BamBam repeating himself over and over again like a crazy person. He might still be slightly hammered because all he’s hearing is “shoot your shot” and “die alone”, he’s confused because why in the world is his best friend making him choose between killing someone and dying alone? Wait, no, actually….he might mean something else. Chan’s just in denial.

“Where is she?” He rasps out tiredly after taking the pill and downs the whole glass of water.

“Lisa carried her back to Jennie’s room in the middle of the night,” BamBam informs his friend, watching how his eyes are starting to turn stormy, and then he exhales out of relief. “She almost murdered me! This is all your fault!” He cries out dramatically before belly-flopping himself onto Chan’s bed, metaphoric tears dripping down on his cheek.

Chan perks an eyebrow as if BamBam just offended him, as if he’s mental and just made it out of an insane asylum. “My fault?” He questions, his voice getting louder and louder at the end. “Whose idea was it to poison me with your questionable drinks? Whose idea was it to make me all batshit drunk? Whose idea was it to let me into the party so that I could find the only thing that I’ve been trying to avoid all night? It was your fault, okay?! It-was-your-fault!” He deadpans and soon realizes that now he’s the one who’s repeating himself.

BamBam is more than confused right now because didn’t Chan want this after all? To confess to you once again and get you back? All he was trying to do is basically give his friend a teeny tiny sprinkle of motivation and this is how he repays him? Now he looks like an idiot who has been trying to sabotage the relationship between the two protagonists of another horrible rom-com. Jackson was right, he should have just played ping pong in peace and not stick his nose into other people’s business.

“Look,” he places a hand on Chan’s shoulder as he sighs deeply into the palms of his hands, mentally debating how the fuck can he make it up to you now. “She could have just refused your invitation of stepping onto this cruise. She could have pushed you away when you tried to kiss her,” BamBam stops midway to suppress his laughter at how Chan’s cheeks are taking no time to turn into a brighter shade of pink. “And, she could have left you alone and drunk at the bar, and- I don’t know, hang out with Na Jaemin or something.”

When a muffled silence descends in between the current civil conversation, only a confused look crosses Chan’s features and all BamBam wants to do right now is to put his head through a goddamn wall. “Jesus fucking Christ…” he murmurs to himself. “Minho’s right. You both are so dumb it’s physically hurting me.” Not exactly the most comforting words to tell a person in crisis but things hitting hard like this actually helps Chan a lot more than how people usually sugarcoat their words.

“Listen, it’s not like there’s no more fish in the sea but have you ever met someone who instantly clicked and just simply fell for you? She didn’t know that you had money, she didn’t know anything about your family. She could care less about your social background too honestly, because she fell for who you truly are,” BamBam hates to be cliché, really, but it is what it is. “Y/N has never gone a day without checking your notifications, she was so broken when you suddenly just shut her out like that. And yes, you were an asshole for doing that but can’t you see how hesitant she was every time you’re trying to get closer?”

Chan looks up at his friend, his tense muscles finally relaxing. “Which isn’t the point…”

“Which isn’t the point,” BamBam tells him, looking more serious than ever and it’s freaking him out. “Because what I’m trying to say is, it’s still not too late to shoot your shot.”

eleven. Maybe you deserve someone else, but deep down, you’ve always wanted Chan. And in your heart, you know that it’s right because humans only want the love they thought they deserved. You think part of the reason why you can never seem to let go of him is you’re just scared that something so amazing won’t happen twice. People might call you out for dwelling on the past but you call it a coping mechanism.

Magically, you’re starting to get used to the frequent encounters with Chan and Eunji since they’re also apparently part of the Privileged. You really should give yourself a pat on your shoulder for not having a mental breakdown whenever you see them hand in hand in public. The forced smile on Chan’s face always gives you the tiniest strand of hope that he’s just putting on a show as demand from his family. But at the same time, you’re scared that you’re just being delusional and you’d never have anything to do with his life from now on. Perhaps he wanted a fresh start so that everything can be like how they used to back in college? He didn’t want to “lose you again” because he still wanted to be friends?

But every time he tried to sneak a glance towards your direction and smiled, all you could think was: “Oh, shit,”

You knew that you fell for him twice, and you’re still falling. Every. Single. Day.

“Like what you see?” Changbin brags on the other side of the curtain, followed by a string of gagging noises by Jisung. And you secretly want to take a picture of his face, for science, obviously. But by that, you mean to blackmail him whenever wherever you want because he’d rather not have his fans gushing over him looking like a dying donkey, inside a fifteen thousand dollars suite on a cruise.

“You look like an idiot.”

Jisung voices with pure disgust in his tone. “Who the fuck lend you a white tuxedo?” Needless to say, you try to picture Changbin wearing a white suit and you immediately scrunch your nose up, shaking your head profusely. Changbin looks especially good in dark colors, but you’re not saying that he wouldn’t look good in brighter tones, it just feels weird not seeing him in a black tux, even when it’s just for a small party.

“My sister! If anything she’s an idiot,” he’s probably throwing his hands up in frustration. “She said I should switch things up. And I trusted her, now I feel like an idiot.”

Jisung asserts like a snake, “You look like you have a stick up in your ass, it’s so high up I can literally see it whenever you’re opening your mouth.” He’s probably man-spreading on the blue velvet couch, playing with the glass of bubbly champagne that he’s specifically requested. You don’t get why he would want to drink when he’s waiting for his friends in the dressing room but he will, just because he can.

“Ew,” he spats not long after. You’re not sure if he’s referring to the drink or Changbin’s outfit. It might be the drink, it’s shit but it gets the job done. It’s more about the concept of looking elegant and fancy more than the concept of getting wasted, in order to not look like a corrupted person. “Why would you godsend privileged, snoshy, live-and-breathe-in-money people deadass drink this instead of a nice Tequila?” Yep, not surprising.

Changbin protests, clearly annoyed. “Because we can afford that shit, just like how there’s a random, money dripping guitar in the dressing room,” you don’t even have to peek to know that he’s rolling his eyes to the point that they’re gonna fly out of their sockets. “But at the same time…true, I don’t like it either. That’s why I never get wasted whenever I go to parties like these, man, I miss college parties,”

God, this zipper is driving me nuts, you mentally curse when it gets stuck halfway and your arms are already giving up on you. Where’s Jennie when you’re in desperate need of her help?

“Whatever, let’s go find your sister and get you in a new tux,” you can hear Jisung pushes himself off the couch and settles his champagne down on the coffee table. “No offense towards her…I just fucking hate it on you,”

“Wait, guys—“ the moment you try to call out to them, they basically shut the door of the dressing room. “Well, shit,” you sigh, quickly realizing that 1) you don’t have your phone with you; 2) you can’t just run outside to grab it because what if Changbin and Jisung get back here at an untimely moment; and 3) there’s no way in hell you’re gonna ask one of them to zip it up for you. Now you’re forced to stay in a confined space with your only protection aka the red velvet curtain that looks way too cliché for your liking. Seriously, isn’t Jennie supposed to be here with you? It was her idea to put you in another dress, which you hate with a passion but you can never have the heart to tell her that.

The door swings open again and you exhale out of surprise, “Thank God, Jen. You’re here. Can you help me with my zipper? It’s stuck, and my hands gave up on me,” you immediately turn around, a sense of relief washing over you.

“Do you think Chan’s gonna hate seeing me in a dress again? I mean, I did call him an asshole when I wasn’t wearing one,” you stop to take in a breath, completely oblivious about the fact that it wasn’t Jennie who opened the door. “…but I was kinda acting like a bitch when I was wearing one too. I was so furious knowing that he’s seeing someone else behind my back that I wanted to bite his head off. And now I’m stuck here with him, his family, and that chick, in a hotel, on water, floating spontaneously somewhere near Singapore.”

Wordlessly, a pair of hands push the curtains aside to tug onto your zipper, slowly adjusting it and careful not to break it at the same time. Once your dress is zipped up all the way, you’re ready to turn your head and thank your friend. “Stay still, I’m not done yet,” your face automatically burns darkly when you come to a realization that it’s definitely not Jennie, most definitely not Jennie. In fact, it’s the person you’ve been planning on avoiding all night. Before you can decide when to make a run for it and save yourself from the imminent embarrassment, a silver necklace is draped around your neck, a diamond-studded buttery resting nicely right below your collarbones.

“Beautiful,” he says again in that honey-dripping voice of his. “You should wear dresses more,”

“Chan! You just scared the living daylights out of me,” you whisper harshly, turning on your heels and shove his chest. You definitely didn’t know what you were signing up for because it’s a grave mistake for you to accidentally look into his captivating eyes and you can see an entire universe in them. Absolutely magnificent. He looks impeccably good in his bejeweled black suit jacket, black turtleneck, and a silver chain around his neck, matching pieces of jewelry adorning his ears.

Chan wiggles his brows like the self-indulging person that he is, straightening his lapel dramatically. “Hmm, I don’t know if you can smell that, but it reeks of jealousy in here, and also hatred, but mostly jealousy.”

“Can. You. Zip. It. And. Call. It. A. Day.” With every word, you repeatedly slap his chest, but only to see him breaking into a fit of giggles in return. You almost forgot that he works out, whereas, you literally have zero ounces of muscles on your body. What a disgrace to your family. Like come on, even Felix has abs, and he never turns down Tacos Tuesday whenever he has dance practice with Hyunjin because their studio is conveniently situated right next to the best Mexican restaurant.

And the guacamole there? Phenomenal.

Chan teases, “I thought girls like you should be taught to act like a lady, not hitting the innocents.”

“Stop being a baby, Bang, it’s not like I’m gonna leave you with a bruise or two.”

Ah yes, this reminds Chan of the good old days of college where you’re both in that weird phase where you’re too much of a scaredy-cat not to talk to him on a last name basis because Changbin was an idiot for constantly leaving you two alone in the music room. “Why?” His lips curl up into a grin. “Because you can’t even open a jar of spaghetti sauce by yourself?”

That’s…that’s just a harsh truth. And now you feel like Regina George getting hit by a bus because life’s willing to give you a piece of its mind. You’re weak as fuck.

“It’s not fair when Felix has a six packs while eating tacos every other week, and I’m here looking like this with a green smoothie for breakfast every day,” you mumble bitterly, already too tired to argue with Chan because the party’s starting in half an hour. “I swear he’s on drugs, he always puts something into his daily Americano.”

Chan laughs breathlessly and cups your face with his hands, squishing your cheeks together. “I’m pretty sure it’s just stevia since Lix has a sweet tooth. On the bright side, I think you look just fine like how you are right now. I like you just the way you are. No modification is needed.” The audacity.

Your nostrils flare with heat, and your cheeks feel hot against Chan’s cool fingers. Again, Chan looks really good tonight and you’re not sure how much longer your heart can hold up before you pass out in his arms. “Uhm, so, just to make it clear,” you fiddle with your fingers nervously. “You and I-“

“Hey guys, how are things going—” Jennie pops her head into the dressing room and looks around, seeing no signs of Changbin or Jisung whatsoever. “What did I miss?” She looks at you cluelessly, then her lips automatically spread into a shit-eating grin when she sees how Chan’s cupping your cheeks. Just when you thought you can’t possibly blush any more darkly.

You awkwardly pull away when Chan clears his throat, retrieving his hands from your face. “Jen, just get out, I swear it’s nothing.” Yeah, as if Jennie aka the person who proclaims to be an expert at love because she’s snuck way too many boys into her closet, is gonna believe your pathetic attempt at an explanation.

“Oh, I’ll get out,” Jennie throws you a wink and you can see how Chan’s shuddering slightly at the dangerous glint in her eyes. “Now, don’t get too freaky in here okay kids, walls are pretty thin,” she asserts unhelpfully like the true friend that she is before shutting the door close. When you’re about to blurt out as many apologies as you can muster to Chan, a soft ‘click’ echoes through your eardrums. Your eyes grow alarmed almost immediately and so do Chan’s.

Did she just lock you inside the dressing room with Chan and expect something to happen? Kim. Fucking. Jennie.

“I hate you, and Jennie,” you tell Chan, not even bothering to hit him this time.

You’d rather take a nap on that couch over there than go out and party honestly. Parties only consist of two things most of the time: drinking and talking. But getting wasted is not an option tonight because you’re not about to spill rosé on the dress that Jennie adores the most. Although you do hate her ass right now.

And people don’t even hold proper conversations during parties unless they know each other, there are only small talks which are so….ugh. You don’t understand the purpose, the meaning of speaking to someone with a maximum of three sentences. You need a real, authentic, civil conversation about a specific topic that’s worth one’s time. Not just “how are you liking the party?” and “yeah, it’s dope, you?” or other gibberish nonsense.

Sometimes you feel bad for those people because their lives are staler than those crumbs of bread that pigeons feed off.

Chan tips his head back and releases the most obnoxiously loud series of laughter that you have to hold back the urge to kick him off the cruise. “You know you love me,”

“I don’t.”

“If you don’t then why would you dash through the airport like a madwoman just to hug me and tell me those three magic words?”

“Too bad, my brain just refused to recall that memory.”

He grabs your chin and angles it so that you’re directly looking into his eyes, dimpled smile, and all. “Then do I need to interfere and remind you?”

You don’t think you’re gonna make it through tonight if Chan keeps making your chest swell like this.

twelve. You and Chan have decided to change into more casual outfits and ditch the formal ones to strip the awkwardness and tension to a bare minimum. And by ditching, you mean hanging them up nicely so that Jennie won’t strangle you later. It is her dress after all. But you have every right to burn it since it was her idea to lock you up with Chan in a dressing room. Thank God it’s almost the size of her closet. Now, you’re both laying flat on your backs on the navy fuzzy carpet before the white couch, already moved the tiny coffee table away so that you won’t accidentally knock something that costs a fortune over. Kind of insanitary too but you can’t care less.

“Are you hungry?” Chan turns his head and asks you, warm brown eyes twinkling under the dimmed light.

“No,” you shake your head, and as if on cue, your stomach rumbles involuntarily. As Chan bursts into laughter, you quickly cover up your pink cheeks with the palms of your hands, internally groaning in pure agony. “Yes, I am hungry like a normal human being should because it’s already midnight, sue me.” You confess.

If only some of Ryujin’s leftovers were here. This is exactly why you refuse to eat out most of the time. Why bother hiring high-end chefs and having fancy dishes when you’ve already had a roommate who’s born into cooking? God, you miss her spaghetti.

Chan props his head onto one of his arms and looks down at you, a glint of mischief evident in his orbs. “You know what’s a whole fucking gourmet dish? Me,” he peels your hands away from your face with ease, holding onto them tightly to prevent you from smacking his chest.

You roll your eyes at him in the bitchiest way possible, yanking your hands away from his because every touch burns like fire and you’re not letting yourself be vulnerable tonight. If you still remembered some of the moves from the martial art classes that mom forced you into when you were in middle school, Chan wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance. You almost snap someone’s arm in half back then, but those days are long gone.

“You? Please, you’re like those piles of unwanted leftover vegetables that everyone keeps giving away to their most annoying relatives,” you start talking big with no intention of meaning it.

Chan’s not just a single dish, he’s an entire buffet. You could never imagine how it felt like for him to have thousands of letters and notes pouring out from his personal locker when he’s wrapping up for the day. Yeah, a total heartthrob. That’s why all of the dumb bitches on campus would always circle around him during breaks, no matter where he went. You were one of them too, you’re also a dumb bitch. Except, you didn’t need to stalk him, Changbin did all the work for you: inviting you to sit with them during lunch breaks, letting you ride the 4419 home alone with Chan, consistently hinting at Chan about your stupid feelings for him every two seconds,… In all honesty, you should be thanking him but you also want to throw him into a tank full of sharks.

Chan gasps, like audibly gasps as if you’re throwing shade at him, which you totally are. “You’re such an absurd, unreasonable, incongruous, preposterous-“ he pauses midway because he’s already running out of big words for ‘ridiculous’ to call you out on; it takes guts and Oscar-worthy acting to insult his godly appearance and impeccable visual, it really does. “—whatever, doesn’t matter. I know that you’re lying,” he singsongs before pushing himself off the carpet, stretching his limbs tiredly.

You think it’s almost two hours since you’re laying in a single spot, and you’re not risking having any parts of your body paralyzed so you get up, proceeding to do the same thing. “I can’t believe you didn’t have your phone with you,” you throw your hands up in exasperation, careful not to chip one of your nails. Lisa didn’t spend an hour on them for nothing. “And no one is even looking for us! Literally no one!” You can’t exactly blame your chaotic group of friends because they’ve probably fallen asleep since formal parties like these are so damn boring but Chan’s parents not freaking out about their missing son? And his “fiancé” too? That’s oddly concerning.

“You don’t have your phone with you either,” he snickers, hands reaching for the random acoustic guitar in the corner of the room. “I doubt that Lisa or Jisoo’s gonna get us out of here, I don’t even have faith in the two other parts of 3RACHA anymore.”

“What about your fiancé?��� You ask him out of the blue, completely ignoring the sudden pang in your chest.

Chan shrugs nonchalantly, strumming some random chords with the instrument. “I broke it off with her, in front of my parents.”

“Cool then-“ you almost choke on your own saliva, “—hold up, did I just mishear you? Did you dump her?! In front of your parents?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” You heave, feeling your heart rate increasing by the nanosecond. Not only did Chan break down the walls you’ve been trying to build, he utterly eliminated the invisible barrier between your life and him (sorry Jaemin), and he knocked down the only obstacle left that’s in his way. Now, imagine two dots with a single line to connect them both. Everything’s as simple as that but your brain is already fried from coming up with one hundred and one ways to move in the slowest way possible.

Chan keeps strumming the guitar in his arms but purses his lips at your particular way of responding to his previous statement. “You know, a ‘thank you’ would be nice. And no, they didn’t disown me. I was like ‘fuck it’, and I told them everything. Not everything-everything, but like everything-everything, you feel me?”

No, I don’t fucking feel you but I can physically feel the shame and agony that’s slowly dawning on me you moron, you think to yourself, inhaling and exhaling deeply to prevent yourself from exploding like a ticking bomb.

“What did they say?”

“They didn’t say anything since they were too…uh, taken aback by the amount of information I guess..”

“Chan, I don’t think you were thinking straight—“

He interrupts you with a sad pout, sticking out his bottom lip. “Why are you talking about my parents and not this guitar?” This man is being ridiculous, as stubborn as a child.

“IT’S A GUITAR! RELAX ABOUT IT!”

“I GOT THIS FOR YOU!” Chan raises his voice slightly to catch you off guard and then sighs deeply. “Felix said you hadn’t played the guitar in years, but you were pretty good at it. So I wanted to surprise you, don’t you like it?”

“Chan, you what?” Your voice grows smaller and smaller until it’s only as audible as a whisper. “You didn’t have to do that- of course I like it! But- it’s just..” You stop talking completely to take a closer look at the acoustic guitar in his hands. It’s made of a reddish-brown type of timber with a satin finish, you can tell that the wood will age well through time and create more depth and warmth to the sound of the instrument. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a guitar, but it’s been way too long since you’ve touched one.

“I- I forgot how to play it after a while..”

Chan throws a wolffish wink in your direction as a reassurance that there wouldn’t be a problem with that. “I can show you how to if you like.”

“Moving too fast, moon is lighting up her skin,” Chan cuts you off softly with his angelic voice, and your heart is stuck in your throat, refraining you from barking back with anything. “She’s falling, doesn’t even know it yet. Heart is beating loud but she doesn’t want it to stop.”

Is he seriously trying to do this by singing a song? A fucking One Direction’s song?

“We’re only getting older, baby. And I’ve been thinking about it lately,” Chan’s voice slowly bleeds into the chorus, and you feel as if all of your pride and dignity have been thrown out the window because you’re completely frozen in your spot when he sits down next to you. Chan smiles throughout the lyrics seeing how you’re looking at him like he’s the only person left in the entire Milky Way, a strange warm sensation bubbling up in his stomach. “Does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?”

“Everything that you’ve ever dreamt of, disappearing when you wake up,” Chan’s heart does an entirety of an acrobatic routine when he locks his eyes with yours. Seemingly to keep himself together, but the insides just feel like he��s being hung upside down on a tree with blood rushing to his face. This just has to be the cheesiest, sappiest, not-necessarily-scream-CB97 way to confess to someone but fuck it, he still needs to shoot his shot. “But there’s not to be afraid of. Even when the night changes…”

He pauses for a few seconds, “..it will never change me and you..” and finishes off smoothly, embarrassment growing more evident on his cheeks.

What did you tell yourself months ago, Y/N? Aren’t you tired of trying? How are you so sure that he wouldn’t do it again? Haven’t you had enough?

Yeah, you’d never know. And yes, you’ve had enough.

Well, to hell with that.

That’s when everything clicks in place. After all this time, after everything you’ve been through, after everything he’s done, you can finally see why you’ve been chasing him relentlessly knowing damn well that your heart is still in his hands, one wrong move and you’ll be utterly destroyed forever. Nobody compares to Chan. Nobody makes you smile like he does, nobody makes you laugh like he does and nobody makes you cry as hard as he does. It’s almost a truth that’s universally acknowledged that everything has been leading up to this specific moment, your heartbeat comes in sync, and two completely different worlds collide with each other.

You almost lost yourself all the way to him, but in him, you also found the way back to you. And how do you argue with the algorithm of falling for someone when the entire universe has conspired for the both of you to be together since forever?

“Uhm…so what-“

Before he can even finish his sentence, you abruptly grab a fistful of his hoodie and yank him towards you. Chan physically feels shivers run up his spine when your hand automatically interlocks with his, still fits like a glove. You kiss him with such desperation and tenderness it makes him feel as if you’ve been wandering this celestial sphere by yourself in the past century, yet he’s always had your heart. And he lets himself trust you with his in your hands once again because this is only the beginning. The paths ahead might not always be peaches and cream, but if it’s with you, he’s willing to stick with you ‘till the very end of it.

You’re the first one to break the kiss, managing to talk between short breaths. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Chan shakes his head and laughs breathlessly, wearing a dimpled on his face, “Nothing, I was just wondering if you’d take me back after everything.”

“After everything?” You merely chuckle when tiny bits of confusion in his orbs soon disintegrate into stardust, floating through the galaxy for eons. “A million times over, I will still choose you and let you rip my heart in half if that’s what it takes for me to stay by your side.”

Chan feels like he’s floating in midair, head all fuzzy and moonstruck. “Actually though…can I kiss you again?”

“And then nap time?” You let out a big yawn, making Chan toss his head back, laughing wholeheartedly.

“And then nap time,” he agrees, gingerly pulling you in by the waist while trying to stop himself from picturing the smirk on BamBam’s face when he opens the door in the morning.

Likewise, BamBam indeed opens the door to the dressing room early in the morning to make a move on his cleanup duty before Chan’s parents have a cardiac arrest. His smirks can’t possibly grow any wider when he sees you cuddle closely to Chan, palms resting on his chest while his hands are locked on your waistline. And BamBam sighs in relief because thank goodness he did shoot his shot.

[hellsfanatic]

TW: talks of fights, blood, non-graphic fighting, alcohol

—

“Hey Dal!” Johnny called for me as I walked out of Buck’s. I turned back. His face was bloody and bruised and he had a real bad limp to his walk. My heart dropped, I hadn’t ever seen Johnny this hurt, not even from his old man.

I walked to Johnny so he didn’t have to struggle anymore. “Hey, kid, what happened to ya, man?” I asked, looking at the blood dripping from the cut on his cheek. Gosh, whoever did this was in for a h*ll of a ride when I found them. Maybe they’d end up dead, but I wanted them to suffer more than they made Johnny.

“I don’t know, man,” he murmured. He brought his arm to his cheek, wiping the blood off. I swear I thought he’d faint any second after that. He really did have a nasty cut, real deep into his face, too. “I just,” he paused for a moment, “some d*mned Socs saw me, I think they were dr*nk. They sure acted it if they were. I tried yellin’ for y’all but I guess they shut me up pretty quick huh,” he spoke, almost like he could feel each hit he was remembering again. Maybe he could, because he winced in pain every now and again.

Slinging my arm around his shoulders to keep him up, I said, “C’mon John, let’s get you to my room, we can use one of Tim’s old shirts to clean up that cut. Got any others?” He didn’t say anything, just nodded. Of course there were more, of course. Boy, those Socs sure were building a reputation for themselves, they’d be dead before they knew it. Man, they might as well be dead now, it’d be better for them.

We got to my room, and honestly it was pretty hard. Johnny’s limp didn’t get any better, and gosh, those stairs were anything but fun to help him up. “Kay John, where’s the rest of ‘em?” I asked, pressing a cloth with some alc*hol on it to the cut of his cheek. He flinched, but let me keep going. I know that stuff burns, but I had to do it. Keeping his silence, he pulled off his jacket. His shirt was covered in crimson red blood around a slice in it. It reached from his lower rib to his waist, but it wasn’t too deep.

“The other’s on my leg,” Johnny mumbled.

“I’ll get that one in a second, man. I gotta fix this one up first. Stay right here, ya hear?” I cocked an eyebrow. He nodded. “Good. I’m gonna go ask Buck somethin’. Hold that cloth right there, got it?” I moved my hand from the cloth I was pressing on his cut so he could get a grip on it. “Don’t you go takin’ that thing off. I don’t wanna clean up more blood than I gotta. Keep pushin’ down too.”

Johnny was holding it to the cut like I said, so I left. Everyone downstairs was real loud, especially compared to Johnny. Buck wasn’t dealing with anyone just then, so I pulled him to another room. It was still loud, but this was the best we were going to get. Closets aren’t usually used for partying anyways.

“Whatcha need Dally?” he almost had to shout. At a party this wild, he knew something had to be wrong since I wasn’t out talking to one of the pretty girls at the bar or drinking. Well, I probably wouldn’t have pulled him into a closet if I didn’t need something either.

I looked around the closet, trying to see what he had. “You got any of those bandages, man? I was gonna use a cut up shirt, but I don’t know if that’ll work for this one. It’s uh, it’s a pretty gnarly cut. Right down the side, man. Like that one kid the town over. Rusty? Rusty-James, I think. His was deeper, though. No bones showin’ on this kid, thank God.”

“Bad cut huh? That why you was bringin’ that kid up there? Yeah, man, he looked pretty beat up,” he said, starting to walk out. “Might got some upstairs. I don’t know how much yesterday’s brawl took. They were both pretty messed up. Man, you shoulda seen it. ‘Betcha could’ve won if you were there. They were pretty big guys, though,” he continued, heading up the stairs with me.

We looked over what he had and grabbed the bandages. “I’ll put ‘em back when I get what I need,” I told him, already making my way out the door. I had left Johnny alone longer than I wanted to already, I couldn’t keep using my time like this.

I got back to my room, seeing Johnny resting his head on the wall. Man, he looked like he could see the d*mn Grim Reaper standing in the corner, waiting for the exact moment he was gone. “Hey, John, take that rag off the cut will ya? I got some bandages so you don’t gotta hold that thing there the whole night,” I told him, unraveling the roll. He listened real well, not like it was much to do, but he sure did it. Getting him wrapped up was pretty easy, probably because he didn’t make a huge fuss like a little kid. There were a few hisses of pain when I pulled them too tight, but he tried to keep them back.

“Man, you almost done?” he asked, sounding tired.

“Yeah, Johnny, almost.” I wrapped the bandages around him a couple more times, then backed away. “There. Now don’t go messin’ that up, ya hear?” He just nodded. Not like Johnny would purposely mess it up. I cleaned up the rest of his cuts, which wasn’t that hard. It was pretty bloody, though. That one on his cheek would scar, I knew it. Kind of made him look like a pal I had back in New York, that guy would get in fights even if he knew he’d lose. He just wanted the thrill. Man, he was fun.

Johnny seemed just about ready to fall asleep. If he had the chance I’m sure he would. His eyelids were tugging themselves down and he was leaning his whole body on the wall. I’ll bet limping all the way to Buck’s didn’t exactly boost his energy. I tried to get his attention after a minute or two, but he didn’t even look at me. He must’ve fallen asleep. He was already on the bed, I just laid him down. I wasn’t too thrilled about the blood from his shirt getting on the mattress, but what was I going to do? Put him on the floor? No way.

There wasn’t much to do, so I left. Johnny could stay put until I came back, anyways. He told me a couple things about those Socs, like the car they were in and that one of them had some rings. D*mn, he wouldn’t shut up about those rings. They were the things that cut his cheek. The guy punched him across the face. For rings, they went deep.

The air was cold, it matched the silence of town. There were a couple people, but they weren’t being loud. It was late, too, so most things were closed. That’s probably why it was like that. The corner store’s light was on, brightening up the sidewalk and street. I went in, just to look around. I couldn’t afford jail time when I had to find those guys who got Johnny. I’d go to jail for k*lling them, sure, but not some stupid shoplifting now.

The car.

That was their car. Johnny said it was a blue Mustang. This was a blue Mustang. Those aren’t just everywhere around here. I pushed past the couple looking at magazines together and went straight out the door. I was following that car. I wasn’t stopping until they did and I’d get them. I’d get them real good.

It slowed down after not too long in some alleyway. They must’ve seen me or heard my shouting. Three guys got out. The guy from the driver’s side, some preppy guy, had big rings on his left hand. Rings that could definitely cut up someone’s cheek. He took a drink from his flask, tossing it in the car and slamming the door. A dopey grin grew on his lips. Man, I’d knock that right off. It’d be the first thing I’d do.

“Lookie here, boys, we got that kid’s guard dog. Someone’s mad his little friend got beat up,” the first Soc sneered. The other two snickered. “I think Winston here’s lookin’ to match his pal, ain’t he boys?” he said as the three of them took a few steps forward.

That’s all I remember from them. I could maybe recall a couple blurred moments of fighting and them driving off, but I could never give details about it. I guess I had a busted lip and some bloody knuckles to show for it, though. I got away better than the Socs did, they could barely get themselves back in the car. That could’ve been the alc*hol too, though.

I was making my way to Buck’s, which definitely felt longer than normal, probably since I was pretty hurt. I can’t imagine what it was like for Johnny, he was banged up even worse than me. I wonder how long it took him to get to Buck’s. I doubt he’d know the answer if I asked him. He was probably just focused on finding one of us and trying to stop his bleeding.

The noise only got louder as I opened the door, leaving a pounding sensation in my head. It eased as I made my way upstairs, opening the door to the room I was staying in. Johnny was still out, good. He seemed like he could sleep for a good while if I let him. I closed the door, making sure not to let it slam. Doors slamming always scared Johnny.

His bleeding had stopped, but I had a couple cuts I wanted to take care of. For a three on one fight, I’m surprised I only got a few. These might not even scar too bad. Grabbing a new cloth and wiping off the blood that ran from my forehead to my cheek, I looked in the mirror. Man, I did not look too great. My face was pale, my eyes seemed tired, and my hair was in a jumbled mess of blond. One look at me and you’d think I either just got out of a fight or rose from the grave. I mean, I had enough blood on me to match one of those over-exaggerated zombies from a movie.

I heard the sheets move, so I looked back. Johnny was up. “Hey kid, you oughta go back to sleep, I bet you need it,” I told him. He yawned quietly, stopping halfway through and holding his stomach. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, opening slowly as he pushed himself to sit up straight.

“Nah man, I ain’t gonna be able to sleep much anyways. Dal, you try sleepin’ with a split down the middle of ya,” Johnny groaned. Now that I think of that, it probably hurt real bad even just laying down. He looked at me, freezing up almost immediately. “Gee Dally, what happened to you? I don’t remember hearing a bar brawl downstairs.”

I let out a small laugh. “C’mon John, don’t worry about it. Don’t go worryin’ ‘bout them Socs neither. They ain’t gonna hurt you,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. Strands of hair wrapped around my fingers, some darkened by blood, that were getting pulled out of my scalp.

“Well why wou-” he cut himself off, realization settling on his face. “Dallas tell me you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t go after him man, please,” he said, seeming at least a little worried. “Man they’ll kill you I swear it. Dal they ain’t gonna give up, tell me you didn’t do it.”

I tugged my shirt down at the collar, showing some of the cuts they tried to land on my neck. “Johnny I ain’t gonna lie to ya, I did it.” His expression fell.

“Dally,” he sounded a little annoyed as he tried to get up. He let out a groan of pain, but pushed through and stood. “Dally, that’s probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. You do a lot of stupid things Dallas. Think about this. Just for a second, man. Think about it. They’ll– They’ll get a bunch of guys and they’ll hunt you down Dal! They’ll get away with it too! I don’t want ‘em cuttin’ you up like they did me, you savvy?”

I tried to get him to sit back down. “I’ll be fine, kid,” I mumbled, putting my hand on his arm and gently pulling him down. He tried to keep himself up, but gave in after only a few seconds.

“Yeah I know,” he murmured, leaning his back against the wall. “I just, you go gettin’ roughed up like this so much, one of these times you’re gonna get killed Dally. You are.” He seemed genuinely worried, like he actually thought I’d get myself killed. No way, no day. He probably just wasn’t thinking about all the fights I had won. I had a reputation for winning, so if I lost, it wouldn’t be to the extent of death. I guess I couldn’t prove it to him until I died for real, and I still had a good twenty or thirty years before that happened. Yeah, twenty or thirty years.

[jaebaebie]

How I met your (very modern) mother

Felix “Just think about how this would be a nice story to tell our kids.. I am your soulmate after all.”

Who would’ve guessed that Y/N’s online gamer friend was her bias from stray kids?

5.37 PM

mydayqueen has connected

“Hey, Queen. Sorry, I gotta go now. You still coming on tonight?”

Your online friend, dabdude00, told you through the in game voice chat. A frown formed on your face. He was leaving you halfway through a match and you knew you were going to have to carry the team in a duos match. You could ask your other friends to play with you, but no one was as good (or as fun) as dab.

“I’m not really sure. I still have that test to study for. But I’ll try.”

You heard him snort from the other line, “You say that as you continue to wreck these noobs.”

“Someone has to show them how it’s done.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders proudly as you take note of your kill count. 10

It was fun to show off your skills to boys who expected you to be bad at the game. Many of the random teammates you met in the game were toxic and rude, not appreciating the fact that they were teamed with a girl. But then, once you’ve shown off, they’d suddenly fawn over you, mesmerised by your skills and the Victory Royale that appeared on their screens.

“Anyways, I’ll see ya soon.”

dabdude00 has disconnected

Dab was an exception. He wasn’t toxic like all the other guys you had encountered. He was nice since the first time the two of you met (online of course) and was even willing to teach you better skills. In three months, he had become your designated teammate. An online friend you told your stories and ranted to. He always listened, even throwing some sarcastic remarks from time to time to tease you because that’s how close you two have become.

Sometimes, you forgot that he was a complete stranger,, a stranger whose face and name you don’t even know. It would be nice to actually meet Dab in person. To see how he looks like. To witness how he was like in real life. But you could only imagine such events, knowing that your family and friends would kill you if you ever tried to meet up with someone you met online.

10.07 PM

After nearly three hours of studying for your upcoming test, your door bust open, revealing your very frantic and very excited bestfriend.

“Geez!” You exclaimed, unintentionally bringing your hand up to your chest in shock, “Ever heard of knocking, Jen?”

“I’m sorry! But look!” Jen jumped, waving two pieces of paper in the air. You rolled your eyes, laughing at your friend’s actions. Just as you were about to give her another remark, your eyes widened in realisation.

No way.

“YoU gOT ThEm?!!!”

“Nu-Uh. WE got them! We’re finally going to see them!” She yelled excitedly, pulling you up from you seat as the two of you began squealing together.

Once Jen had left your room, you quickly ran to your computer, no longer in the mood to study.

“Yo yo Dab!!” You exclaimed, immediately hearing him laugh from the other side of the screen as you barely even got your headphones around your head.

“Someone sounds excited. What happened to studying?”

“Studying? I’ve never heard of it! Guess who’s going to see her soulmate?” You couldn’t help but jump in your seat, still not over the fact that your bestfriend had managed to buy tickets for the both of you.

He chuckled, “Hmm. I guess you’re finally going to see Jae from Day6 huh?”

“No, silly! He’s my ultimate bias. This one’s different.” You argued.

“Why am I not surprised?” He teased. Funnily enough, you could imagine his actions towards you, despite not knowing how he actually looked like. He’d shake his head, smiling as he brings his hands up to his temple.

“So, who’s this lucky guy then?”

You smiled, looking up to the posters pasted on the wall right above your computer. A fluttery feeling spread in your stomach, spreading to your chest as you began to get excited once again.

“Felix from Stray Kids.”

10.48 PM

“I’m S T R E S S E D !!”

A week had gone by so quickly that you were panicking because you still had no idea what to wear the night before your fan-meet with Stray Kids. You had tried to call Jen for help, but she only stressed you out even more. She had everything planned out and organised, while you, on the other hand, were frantic and disorganised. Somehow, you were now getting help from the person who couldn’t possibly give it to you.

“Calm down, Queen. I-Felix would find anything you wear pretty.” Dab said, attempting to calm you down.

It turned out the Dab was somewhat familiar with Stray Kids. He claimed to have heard their music a few times and actually liked it. He even knew who Felix was, judging from his sudden choking when you told him who your soulmate was.

“That’s not the point, Dab! Come on, help me out.” You whined. You were stretching to reach for your clothes in your cabinet, not wanting your earphones to disconnect.

“Just wear something unique. Didn’t you say you have a panda beanie lying around?” He asked, and you nodded even though he couldn’t actually see you.

“Yeah. But that’ll make me look dumb.”

“No, it won’t. He’ll notice you when you wear that.” He replied rather convincingly. He sounded so confident and strong. We’re guys always this sure of themselves?

You stared at the panda beanie he was speaking of, frowning as you hesitated, “Are you sure?”

“Trust me, Queen. He’ll notice you.”

3.19 PM ~ the day of the fan meeting

You held their album close to your chest, trying to calm your breaths as you made your way towards the first member, following after Jen. Nearly all the members complimented your panda beanie, but you were too busy blushing to notice the cheeky smirks they were sending towards your ‘soulmate’.

He was the last one in the line of members. Your ears felt like they had been blocked by your own heartbeats and a lump had formed at the back of your throat. You were so nervous you weren’t even sure you could say a word. You watched as he bid Jen goodbye with a smile before he turned to you.

His eyes met yours, widening momentarily before he replaced them with the cutest eye smile.

“I like your panda beanie.” He complimented, taking the album from you. “I’m Felix, what’s your name?”

“I know.” You stuttered, making you want to melt into the floor.

“What?” He asked, leaning forward to hear you better amidst the loud squeals of the fans.

“I-I mean, I know you’re Felix. I’m Y/N.” You finally managed to mutter out.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N.” He replied with a smile wider than his last one.

“You too. You look so much better in real life, with your freckles and all that.”

God. What was wrong with you? For some reason, everything that came out of your mouth was just purely embarrassing.

He chuckled, and shivers went up your spine. It sounded way too familiar. Before you could ponder over it, you fell in love once again as he began to rub the small amount of foundation on his cheeks, allowing you to get a better look on his freckles.

“So, which one of us is your soulmate?”

You snorted, feeling your cheeks heat from embarrassment. Saying that he was your soulmate in front of him felt way too cringy for your own good. “It’s supposed to be you. But after seeing JeongIn, I think my mind’s changed.”

His jaw dropped and he scrunched his nose, pretending to be offended, “He must be one lucky guy then.”

“Truly.” You replied, laughing. Their manager gave you a signal, indicating that it was time for you to move on. You nodded, smiling as you took the album from him. He almost looked disappointed. But you were convinced it was just you being delusional.

“It was nice meeting you, mydayqueen.”

“You too, dabdu—- wait, what?!”

Your jaw dropped and your eyes widened. There was NO WAY Felix had just called you your gamer tag. How did he know what it was? He stared at your expression, laughing with his head tilted back. The same action you always imagined Dab to be doing. The manager had called you once again, guiding you gently off the stage. Felix kept his gaze on you, the same cheeky smile on his face before he turned to the next girl, leaving you with the same confused and dumb stricken look on your face.

There was NO WAY Felix was dabdude00,,,, right?

12.03 AM

dabdude00 has sent you a party invite

You stared at your computer screen, biting the sides of your nails nervously. You were still completely taken aback by the day’s events. Felix was dabdude00. dabdude00 was Felix. You felt dumb and embarrassed. You always loved Felix’s deep and unique voice, yet, you’ve spoken to Felix the past three months and you never even recognised that it was him.

You groaned, rubbing your palms down your face as you recalled the fan meeting. He was giving you so many clues. ‘Soulmate’ and ‘Lucky Guy’. Those were words Dab used when the two of you spoke.

dabdude00 has sent you a party invite

You could barely even think about him without dying from embarrassment. How were you going to talk to him and pretend everything was normal?

dabdude00 has sent you a message

dabdude00 : Hey, you okay? Idk if you’re busy but it says you’re online..?

dabdude00 : Are you angry about today?

dabdude00 : If you are, I’m really sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you upset.

His response itself proved that dabdude00 was in fact Felix of Stray Kids. You sighed, confusing yourself even more. Any Stay would dream of this. Yet, you were ignoring his invites and messages because you were too busy being dramatic.

You threw your headphones on, finally mustering the courage to join his voice chat.

“Hey, Dab. Or Felix. Which one do you prefer?” You asked. Your voice sounded colder than you had expected.

“You sound upset. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you upset.” His voice was soft and small.

“N-No. I’m not. Just shocked and embarrassed.” You replied, trying to ease the tension that somehow managed to form through your headphones.

“Embarrassed? Why?” He asked, making you let out a cry,

“Because I literally called Felix my ‘soulmate’ in front of Felix! And I FANGIRLED to Felix about Felix and all that stuff! Why would you let me do that?” You exclaimed, feeling your cheeks heat up once again.

He laughed, “If it makes you feel better, I really liked it.”

“Sure, you did. Ugh! I’m so embarrassed, Felix! I literally hate you right now.”

You could hear him smirk from the other side, making you roll your eyes, “Really? If I remember correctly, this past week you’ve been bragging to me about how much you loved.. me.”

“—Shut up before I take your posters down.”

“Aww. You have posters of me?” He teased.

“Felix, I swear to god.”

He laughed once again, and this time you confidently imagined how he looked like. It sent the butterflies flying in your stomach and your head spun with joy.

“Calm down, Y/N.” He said,

“Just think about how this would be a nice story to tell our kids.. I am your soulmate after all.”

[punkscowardschampions]

Rio & Buster

Rio: I just got the last of my stuff from Dan’s… so that’s officially dealt with and done

Rio: You said your parents had a conference THIS weekend, right?

Buster: Yeah? So he’ll still be crying by then, but you don’t have to be, ‘cause I did say that, they’re [deets] all weekend

Rio: You don’t need to concern yourself with how he is or isn’t feeling ever again, sweet as that is, babe

Rio: Great, because I have likewise just finished convincing my mum that Nance needs some quality girl time and she, for some reason, can’t come here as per and I NEED to go to yours

Rio: I can even pull a sickie Monday so Sunday can really count too

Buster: The party I’m gonna throw is a perfect cover for why you’ve gotta be here with Nance, there ain’t a bigger cunt move than inviting everyone from school to swarm all over our house, and it’ll work for how loudly you’re gonna wanna tell me you miss me when you can get a second away from her

Rio: Even if her go-to is locking herself in her room, I’ll convince her it’ll be more fun to join in

Rio: hers is not the room I don’t wanna leave the whole time I’m there, like

Rio: 🤔 I might be able to invite some people to come hang with her

Rio: Your party will have plenty to offer for people that aren’t me, yeah?

Buster: ‘Course, it’s me hosting it, it’ll have everything

Rio: I won’t oversell it quite that hard 😏

Rio: but I know people who’ll be down

Rio: Ava went with them, or is she coming here?

Buster: Get her drunk and you can come see me play on Sunday before she’s even awake to realise you’re gone

Buster: Ava’s going to a friend’s after school on Friday ‘til they get back, probably having her own kid party, like

Rio: I can just wanna drool over the other lads on your team

Rio: she’ll think that’s standard straight girl behaviour and not bother to get out of bed for it

Rio: Cute

Buster: You can wanna before you’ve seen any of ‘em, yeah

Buster: Long as she steers clear of the Brandy in her friend’s parents drinks cabinet, it’ll be fine

Rio: The whole squads busted? Awkward

Rio: Luckily you know my actual motivation to get up at the crack of dawn

Rio: Undoubtedly, she’s smarter than us

Rio: I know all my siblings make me feel like a total idiot in comparison

Buster: Compared to me

Buster: She’s less reckless than me, but less cautious than Nance, as combinations go, I reckon she’ll do alright with that

Buster: I ain’t sorry for living dangerously though and an idiot is the last thing I feel like

Rio: I don’t need to see them to know that

Rio: Good, because if you were going to turn around and tell me not to come already…

Rio: I was scared you’d get back to London and not talk to me again like before

Rio: like, I didn’t think you would with my rational brain but that other 10% or whatever

Buster: I was thinking you’d not be able to get to London without the excuse of someone getting married or born or dying, shouldn’t have underestimated you, or how much my sister didn’t wanna come back

Rio: Mum is pretty chill, it’s more explaining it when your parents are about

Rio: or when you suddenly want to come here again

Buster: Thank Christ they never are

Rio: It does work in our favour

Rio: and if I wanna see the sights, no one is going to be mad at me staying safe and staying with family to do so, right?

Rio: it’s mainly Nance who we need to worry about

Buster: We don’t have to worry about anything, she’s preoccupied with her own shit

Rio: Yeah, can’t argue with that

Rio: or blame her

Buster: That said, we won’t take unnecessary risks

Rio: When you put it like that, I obviously want to

Rio: only the necessary ones then

Rio: because some are

Buster: Right now they all feel like they are

Rio: Tell me about it

Rio: I feel like I’ve barely been here because I wanna be with you so bad

Buster: Alright, I’ll tell you about how I hard I get when I think about seeing you again so I couldn’t come to the airport even armed with the best excuse to ‘cause a glimpse of you would mean I’d have no choice but to stay in the car and then immediately pile all your suitcases on top of me

Rio: Now I’m going to miss you even more on the drive to yours

Rio: How am I not going to just jump on you as soon as I see you

Buster: I’ll make sure you don’t see me until you can

Rio: Is it better to have the party in full-swing when I arrive or is there any chance we can be properly alone before?

Rio: Could ask Nance to get snacks and stuff for my arrival, that’s a believable amount of cheek from me and would get her out of the house for at least long enough to say hello properly if we time it right

Buster: We’ll time it right then, just ‘cause she ain’t throwing a party don’t mean she can get away with being a shit host

Rio: I think that makes sense

Rio: your friends aren’t going to just ignore me straight away, that’s just facts not being cocky

Rio: so it might take a while to get lost during

Buster: Yeah, they don’t all show up wasted, some of ‘em can handle their pre-drinks

Rio: I should hope so, even if they’re all posh boys

Rio: otherwise the friends I’m gathering could be unimpressed enough to trash your place and that isn’t the energy we’re looking for

Buster: Only if we could convince Nance to handle the clean up on her own and the line of how much of a pushover she is has gotta be drawn somewhere

Rio: I somehow can’t see it

Rio: especially as they’re meant to cheer her up, not do the opposite

Rio: At least your place is big

Buster: And I’ve only got the one sibling getting in our way, it’s fucking never-ending at yours

Rio: There is double the amount of us compared to yous

Rio: If I can handle them, this will be easy

Buster: Exactly

Rio: When we go to your match, can we go somewhere after, get some breakfast or something

Buster: My victory ain’t gonna celebrate itself, babe, and I know just the place

Rio: I’m excited 😁😁

Rio: For all of it, not just the promise of breakfast, obviously

Buster: I’d do more if I could, I want to, but it’ll look weird if I take you shopping or whatever before Nance can

Rio: I know

Rio: we can’t take those kind of risks yet

Rio: It’ll be easier when we’re a bit older and me showing up on a whim to shop is more plausible

Rio: I swear this is the worst age to be, no one totally trusts you to be an adult but you don’t get treated like the kids either when they want you to be ‘grown up’ 🙄

Buster: There has to be a way we can go from everyone believing we hate each other to not thinking it’s fucked we wanna spend time together like we used to without having to wait that long

Rio: You’d think but I can’t 🤔

Rio: Unless you want your whole perception with the rest of the fam to change too

Rio: Obviously it’s fine that we’ve got more in common, we’re closest in age

Rio: but if you don’t give the rest the time of day at all, that’ll raise eyebrows

Buster: I taught them all how to fight and play football, didn’t I? It ain’t my fault Grace isn’t into any of that, or that Nance and your brother are the real anti-social ones

Rio: Yeah, but that was a while ago now

Rio: I doubt anyone would say anything but it’ll probably be weird you showing up at fam functions again for a while

Rio: but only in a way that ultimately benefits you, they’ll think you’re growing up and being all mature

Buster: Fuck’s sake, I can hear everyone now, the bullshit they’d have to say

Rio: Yeah, it’ll make you wanna die

Rio: but I’ll make it worth it

Buster: You already have, I’ll do it for you, I’d do anything

Rio: You know I will for you too

Rio: Including ditching your sister as much as is possible without being a total bitch

Buster: She’s still as heavy a sleeper as she always was

Rio: That is a theory we’re going to have to test

Rio: There’s zero chance I can promise to be quiet all weekend

Buster: Me either, but I like our odds after my solo tests

Rio: That was so 🤓 sounding but also 🤤

Rio: Rude

Buster: Call it preparation, that’s who I am here, like

Rio: I know who you are

Buster: Good, don’t forget ‘cause of who I have to be

Rio: Up until very recently you were still treating me like you hated me, remember

Rio: I can handle it

Buster: You’ve never been here, however I’ve treated you at family functions is still toned down, Nance doesn’t hate me for no reason, you know

Rio: I’m not her though

Buster: I don’t want you to have to handle it anymore, that’s all

Rio: You have to do what you have to do

Rio: You live there, I don’t

Rio: Say what you want to your friends

Buster: Okay

Rio: It is okay

Rio: I mean, what’s the alternative?

Rio: I understand why you have to

Buster: Like you said, this age is shit, there won’t be an alternative until we’re older

Rio: Yeah, if you even think about treating me like this when you go to Uni

Rio: I don’t care what your friends think about me

Rio: it’s not like I plan to just take it anyway

Buster: You didn’t have to be so hot about it or get me thinking about how incredible the future is gonna be when the present is torturous enough

Rio: Yeah I did

Rio: can’t have you forgetting how you really feel about me

Rio: Maybe you can just stay at Uni forever

Rio: it’s practically expected you won’t keep in touch or come home enough

Rio: we can be together every day, with no one around to interrupt us

Buster: That’s settled then

Rio: 😄🥰

Buster: What time’s your flight?

Rio: [a time early enough that the party won’t be on and we’re keen

but not so early Nancy will be like umm can you not come then lol]

Buster: You really want me to keep feeling a type of way about you, yeah?

Rio: That should be obvious by now

Rio: You can’t get sick of me ever

Buster: It should be obvious by now that I won’t

Rio: Don’t

Rio: Everything’s changed for good

Rio: I have

Buster: Even if I still wanted to pretend, I can’t, I barely could before, it’s not gonna happen, Rio

Rio: Me either, I’m scared I can barely pretend as much as we need to to stop doing it in private

Rio: never mind fully going fucking back

Buster: You’ll do what you have to as well, I know you and what you can handle even if I don’t like that it’s the way things are

Rio: I’m sick of thinking about what I have to do, what I need is you

Buster: You’ve got me, whether you’re here or not, whatever else is going on in your head or what bullshit is happening around us, I’m with you for it

Rio: I love you

Buster: I love you too

Rio: What kind of thing do Chelsea girls wear to house parties then?

Buster: Nothing you ever would

Buster: It's really bad, like

Rio: 😂

Rio: Okay, I’ll look good and stand out instead of trying to match the energy then

Buster: There really ain't no alternative in this instance, babe

Rio: You won’t be into my cosplay, noted 😏

Buster: Not unless it was the school uniform you were planning on nicking, anything else they wear isn't gonna do fuck all for either of us

Rio: Obviously I have that outfit

Rio: If you can think of any valid reason I’d have that packed, like

Buster: Insisting on costumes before my birthday is a weird flex but I've done worse

Rio: They’d be fuming at the lack of notice

Rio: plus I’d never convince your sister to leave her room if she has to wear a stupid costume

Rio: next time

Buster: I do wanna see what you're gonna wear for me when you're not also dressing for a wedding/Easter egg hunt

Rio: Good thing you aren’t the only one who can rise to the challenge under pressure

Rio: I’m pretty sure I know exactly what you like, as I’ve had to dress to get your attention for years now

Rio: It’s how much attention you want your friends to be paying me too

Buster: However you dress all eyes will be on you anyway, from the moment you walk in, I can and will give you every compliment on what you’re wearing and how you look, obviously, but it ain’t stopping there

Buster: It’s everything else too, from the way you move to what you do and don’t say, it’s exactly what I like ‘cause I’ve got good taste, and if they’ve got any, they’re gonna wanna rise to the challenge of trying to get your attention

Rio: You’re the one who always knows exactly what to say

Rio: I’m so lucky

Rio: so they can try, no one but you registers for me

Buster: It’s not luck, what I say is in direct response to you and how you make me feel, the try hard girls ‘round here who haven’t ever registered for me would be lucky to get a second of eye contact Buster: You know you deserve every word and gesture

Rio: I’d attempt sympathy if I didn’t know how bitchy they were

Buster: Don’t or I’d have be more serious in offering it to the paperboy

Rio: 😏

Rio: I think I feel bad enough for both of us, it’s fine

Buster: No it ain’t, you’ve got fuck all to feel bad about, he wasn’t good enough for you, end of

Rio: I can still feel sorry for him

Rio: Obviously it was the right thing to do

Buster: He’ll feel sorry enough for himself for not keeping hold of you, as he should

Rio: Bless him

Buster: He’s not someone to waste any more of your time thinking about, like I said, it’s his loss

Rio: I’m not

Rio: All I really think about is you

Buster: As long as you’re not feeling sorry for me

Rio: I have a bit more self-esteem than that, babe

Buster: If you don’t now you will when you get here

Rio: You wouldn’t risk it if I wasn’t worth it

Rio: Likewise

Rio: There’s no pretending you aren’t just

Rio: everything I want

Buster: It’s not a risk ‘cause we won’t get caught, but I’d want you even if it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done instead of the only thing that makes sense

Rio: You know what I mean though

Rio: even if we never get caught

Rio: it could still be a total headfuck

Buster: Nothing’s gonna change my mind, however much of a headfuck it is, we’ll handle it, it’s not gonna be worse than what we’ve already had to

Rio: Seeing you before was honestly tortuous

Rio: as much as I’d dread what you would say, how much you’d ignore me and I’d have to ignore you

Rio: I also wanted to savour every second of it and it was never long enough

Buster: Seeing who you’d bring nearly killed me every time, and them, but as much as I wanted them to fuck off, it was the thought that you’d follow ‘em out if they did that I dreaded most, ‘cause yeah, for all the family functions, there was still never enough time even with every second I then spent reliving it later

Rio: I never did though

Rio: I couldn’t miss anything, even if all I missed was more ignoring

Buster: Don’t act like I could ever really ignore you

Rio: Didn’t you sometimes believe it

Rio: Think you were convincing yourself that there was something there that wasn’t

Buster: I sometimes believed you wanted me to

Rio: Exactly, we both must’ve ‘wanted’ that on some level some of the time

Rio: even if we really wanted the opposite, both could be true, you know

Buster: I don’t just do whatever the hell I want, contrary to popular belief, you know

Rio: Of course I do

Rio: This is big

Buster: I knew what I wanted then, now and always

Rio: I just wish things were simpler

Rio: but they aren’t, and I can and will handle how they are

Buster: How I feel is the part that is, and I’ll do whatever I can to keep the rest as simple as possible for you

Rio: This is better than what we were doing, that’s a start

Buster: Yeah, but I can do better

Rio: I don’t know if I can handle better 🥴

Buster: I definitely don’t believe that, babe

Rio: We’ll have fun working out who’s right

Buster: I am, but you won’t mind being proved wrong

Rio: I need it to be the weekend NOW

Buster: I can’t give you that, which is making me angry, so where are you now?

Rio: Home

Rio: Meant to be doing homework

Buster: Anyone else meant to be doing it with you?

Rio: Even if there was, you know they aren’t

Buster: [Obviously call her cos you miss her and are extra]

Rio: I love hearing your voice

Buster: It was starting to feel like forever since I’d heard yours

Rio: Day to day is so normal and boring without you I don’t even know what to do

Buster: I’ll have to keep doing what I can to make sure you’re not bored

Rio: The problem isn’t you it’s everything else

Rio: you’re never boring

Buster: Which is exactly why it’s a problem I can solve by helping you forget about everything else

Rio: I love you

Rio: so, do you actually like any of your friends or what’s the craic

Rio: I’ll be less rude to those ones if you do

Buster: Of course I don’t, what’s to like?

Rio: I don’t know, I’ve never met them

Rio: I know the people Nancy particularly dislikes, if only by name

Rio: but they’re actually your quote unquote friends, some of them might be okay, to you anyway

Buster: Come on, don’t underestimate yourself, you’ve met me and admitted to checking my socials regularly

Buster: You’ll be as good a judge as I am who to avoid at the weekend and who you could take a shot with without risking that boredom again

Rio: I was mainly giving you a chance to talk about it

Rio: I doubt anyone else is asking

Buster: And I’m giving you the chance to make up your own mind, I already said don’t feel sorry for me

Rio: I will regardless

Rio: and you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to

Buster: I know I don’t, like you don’t need my permission to treat any of the partygoers however you want to, whether I reckon they’re a cunt or not

Rio: You don’t need to be sarky about it

Buster: You don’t need to be patronising about it either, like, how that shit is is how it’s been for long enough that I know what I’m doing

Rio: I wasn’t being patronising, I was trying to talk to you but I won’t fucking bother then

Buster: That’s an impossibly quick turnaround from me not having to talk about it if I don’t want to, but fine

Rio: We’ve talked about stuff like that before

Rio: I told you how I don’t feel like one of them properly either here; so what, you suddenly don’t want to talk to me about anything important?

Buster: What do you want me to say? I’m not drunk now and I’m not Nance

Rio: Fine

Rio: I have things I should be doing anyway

Buster: Don’t be like that, you know I wanna talk to you about everything, it doesn’t mean it’s that simple

Rio: If you didn’t want to, then just say that

Rio: You don’t need to turn it into a whole thing and act like I’m the idiot for asking

Buster: That’s what I do, or did, before

Rio: Old habits and all that, sure

Buster: I’m sorry, to start a new one

Rio: Okay, we can rewind to before that whole part of this conversation

Buster: No, you’re right, we should talk about it, otherwise what I said about being able to do better, anything I’ve said to big myself up, is bullshit and I might as well get a paper round too

Rio: There’s nothing wrong with a paper round 😏

Rio: I’m not asking you to be ‘perfect’

Rio: whatever that even is

Rio: I just genuinely thought you might want to talk about it, that’s all

Buster: As a kid, but however immature that lot are, I ain’t one any more and I don’t wanna be dragged down to their fucking level, ‘cause I’m above it

Buster: So are you, my definition of perfect at least, I wanna be someone who deserves you, not the kind of cunt who feels so powerless all he can do is bitch and moan about it, but I know lashing out at being backed into a corner ain’t no better this time or what I want either, not when you’re the target

Buster: There’s usually something I can actually do, options I have, that’s who I am, but keeping the two worlds separate isn’t gonna work now that you’re the centre of both

Rio: You already deserve me, no conditions

Rio: but I’m not going to hold you to the standard you have to be with your friends, or judge you for doing it, I’d do the same

Buster: I told you they bring out the worst in me, there are no standards

Rio: How else are you meant to fill your time

Rio: We’re teenagers, not adults just because we’re not kids

Rio: You don’t have to judge yourself that harshly for it

Buster: Why not? Everyone else is, including you not long ago

Rio: It’s not something your parents can really get on board with

Rio: and only because you were being a twat to me, that’s not necessary to the rest of it, surely

Buster: I didn’t mean them, but whatever

Buster: It was all connected, part of what I had to do

Rio: No one’s gonna thank you for being a prick, especially if they can’t see your reasoning and motivations

Rio: Maybe she should be able to but she’s preoccupied with her own feelings towards it all

Rio: If you’re fed up of feeling like the bad guy, you have to find time when you ain’t, or of course you’re gonna feel like that’s who you actually are

Buster: I know

Rio: I don’t think you’re the bad guy

Rio: Ava doesn’t

Buster: She doesn’t yet, there’s loads of time for it though before I’m done with school and everyone there

Rio: Respectfully, I don’t think you’ll have to fail to protect her from bullies

Rio: Not that it is that simple, but you know what I’m saying

Rio: She’ll be, what, 12/13, when you get done with school, it’s not gonna happen

Buster: That’s not the only way to be a prick is all I’m saying

Rio: Go on

Rio: Why else do you reckon Nancy doesn’t like you now

Buster: Old habits die hard, like you said, and I’ve formed plenty she reckons are bad hanging out with them and if you’ve got things you should be doing it’d be quicker to speculate on what she don’t hate about me by this point

Rio: She’s probably jealous, though it would not be worth pointing that out

Rio: even if she thinks they’re the worst, you still have people to do stuff with and she doesn’t

Buster: Everyone who meets me is, difference is, she knows it’s not effortless, I keep my schedule full, with the good as well as the bad and put work in while she’s doing fuck all but feeling sorry for herself and jealous of what I’ve got

Rio: I think she tries, or at least did try

Rio: but it wasn’t exactly working for her so why bother at this point, right

Buster: You can’t just try once and give up, yeah I scored first time but it took ages before I knocked someone out in the ring, ‘course you’re gonna get nowhere if you don’t make what you want happen

Rio: I don’t think she wants it though

Rio: you’re making the best out of a bad situation, yeah

Rio: but she’d rather not, that doesn’t mean she loves being friendless, just it’s slightly preferable to being friends with people she doesn’t like

Buster: Nobody’s saying she has to be friends with them, the whole school ain’t against her, she’s got other options

Rio: I’m not saying she’s fully in the right, no way

Rio: She just can’t see further than what they say right now

Buster: I’ve done what I can to make her see sense

Rio: I know

Rio: I just don’t think that’s gonna happen, I’m sorry

Buster: Don’t worry, I wasn’t holding my breath or anything, I know which battles are worth picking

Rio: You’ll get there, just probably not for a while

Rio: She needs to sort herself out, it’s literally not your battle

Buster: Tell me something I don’t know, like

Rio: You clearly do feel a bit responsible

Rio: even if you could have done some things different, doesn’t mean this wouldn’t have still happened and she wouldn’t still feel like this

Buster: She’s my sister, I do have a responsibility to look out for her, but that don’t mean she’s not responsible for making it worse for herself after I’ve done everything I can to try and sort it out

Rio: I don’t disagree

Buster: Good

Rio: I’ll keep talking to her anyway

Rio: even if it doesn’t achieve much either

Buster: If anyone could get through to her it’d be you, I haven’t forgot about any the shit you managed to talk me out of when we were younger

Rio: I wasn’t that much of a fun sponge though thank you

Rio: I said yes to plenty of things too 😏

Buster: Just the things I should probably thank you for, if it wasn't more fun to focus on what you've said yes to, especially recently

Rio: It is more fun to say yes to you, especially recently

Rio: ‘scuse me whilst I enjoy the flashback 🤤🤤🤤

Buster: It's only gonna get more fun

Buster: I can't believe you're actually coming here but the frequency of those flashbacks will keep it feeling real

Rio: Sometimes it’s hard to differentiate from all the fantasies and daydreams from before though, they felt so real

Rio: [pic] that should help

Buster: It’s definitely proof I didn’t need that you won’t have any problem living up to the years of dreams I’ve had

Rio: That’s all I want right now

Rio: I can prove to you how worth it this is all going to be

Buster: It’s always fun to give you what you want, as long as you know you don’t actually have anything left to prove, I knew how worth it this is and would be before you’d ever even touched me

Rio: I have to keep proving it, I can’t take this or you for granted

Rio: I never thought this would actually happen

Rio: I’m not going to waste a second being second best, trust me

Buster: You won't, trust me, there's nobody you could come second to, this is happening 'cause we're joint first and I've never met anyone else I could say that about with a straight face

Rio: It makes perfect sense, when you think about it

Rio: Who else?

Rio: There’s no one else like you and no one else like me

Rio: We’ve both tried

Buster: Exactly, and now the only regret I have is how long I spent fighting against it

Rio: Even if I could fight it longer

Rio: I don’t want to, it’s exhausting

Buster: We don’t have to, Thank Christ, keeping it a secret will seem loads easier by comparison

Rio: Seriously

Rio: not to mention it has all the potential to be kinda fun and pretty hot

Rio: because we won’t get caught, so we can just enjoy the thrill for what it is

Buster: I object to kinda fun and pretty hot, but when we don’t get caught and you’re enjoying the thrill I’ll get you to be much more enthusiastic, like

Rio: 😅

Rio: I’m not as good with words as you, poor baby

Rio: it’s so unfair

Buster: Nah, I object to that too, you’re incredible with words and actions

Rio: Actions, I’ll agree to

Rio: Words I’ll work on

Rio: not everyone likes that

Buster: There’s nothing you need to work on

Rio: 🤏🥺

Buster: I don’t have a single complaint

Rio: I just wanted to hear you say that 😋

Buster: I’ll tell you how perfect you are as many times as you want

Rio: ‘til you can’t speak

Buster: Losing my voice is the only thing that’ll stop me

Rio: Challenge accepted

Rio: I can make it happen before that point

Buster: I’d still be able to use actions to tell you though, the actual challenge would be anyone or anything stopping me doing that

Rio: I definitely can’t pack handcuffs

Rio: LOVE to see their faces at the airport, like

Buster: We’ll think of something else to use that either you can pack or I already have in my room

Rio: I can’t believe I’ve never been in your room

Rio: still weird to think about

Buster: Yeah, like you said, some of the fantasties felt so real

Rio: I wish I could stay in there with you

Buster: Once Nance is asleep you can

Rio: I know, I just don’t wanna think of you on your own

Buster: You won’t get a chance to think about anything like that, don’t worry

Rio: Okay, so what DO I pack

Buster: Your necklace, obviously

Rio: I haven’t taken it off

Rio: it’s so gorgeous 😍

Rio: never met a boy with taste

Buster: Good ‘cause I haven’t either

Buster: You’ve met me, didn’t you think I had taste before?

Rio: You weren’t buying me jewellery and I wouldn’t want to know if you were anyone else

Buster: ‘Course not, but since when is that solely the benchmark for good taste? You’ve seen what I’ve bought myself

Rio: You can have good taste for yourself and terrible taste in girl’s stuff

Rio: You’ve seen what your friends think is hot in the opposite sex

Buster: Other lads can and they do but don’t underestimate me, babe

Rio: No more

Buster: I just wanted to hear you say it

Rio: What else do you wanna hear me say?

Buster: Right now? Everything you probably shouldn't get into the habit of saying even if Nance is out of the way

Rio: [Audio examples of that]

Rio: Can’t call it a habit yet, we’re safe

Buster: You sure? Sounds like it could be becoming a habit to me

Rio: You aren’t going to keep an eye on me to make sure?

Buster: That’s already a habit, you know that, can’t keep my eyes off you

Rio: I don’t mind some codependence

Buster: That’s a relief ‘cause it’s arguably either too early or too late for you to try and change me

Rio: I don’t wanna change you

Buster: ‘Course not, why would you? We’re perfect for each other as is

Rio: and you’re perfect

Buster: You are, but yeah, I’m keeping up

Rio: You are

Rio: on both counts, thank you

Buster: You ain’t seen nothing yet, babe, but you will, when you get here

Rio: Call me? So it doesn’t seem so far off still 😖😩

Buster: [obviously will even though he did earlier because what is chill]

[capricornus-rex]

heey, i was wondering if you could make an imagine with cal, in which he likes the reader and everyone knows but she is oblivious to it. Thanks in advance and sorry if my english isn't perfect I am actually Brazilian. Love ur writing btw

Hey there! I could definitely make it, hence this fic hehe ;) It was fun writing it because an oblivious reader is a first for me. You’re welcome and don’t worry, your english is fine! I hope I didn’t use any difficult words in the fic for you. And thank you! Hope you like the fic 😁😊💕

“The Two Faces of Bracca”

Cal Kestis x Reader

Tags: Non-Jedi! Reader, Oblivious! Reader

Masterlist

The rain had stopped for once in Bracca.

Cal’s division was granted a half-day. It has been a while since they last received such a privilege—that is technically a work benefit—after working on the new acquisitions for a whole week.

“See ya later, Cal!” Prauf waved as Cal walked away.

“Yeah, you too!” the young boy waved back.

He navigated through the inside of the gigantic machinery: shimmying through tight spaces, scaling grates from one level to another, and swung on ropes between large gaps. Cal was a natural at this—after all, he practically grew up here. After passing by a few more workers who have recognized him—and his purpose—they point him to a direction the moment they meet eyes with him; Cal, in turn, nods back at them as a silent thanks, then continues on his way.

He traverses through a series of winding turns in halls that are now tilted sideways due to the position of the ship, risky climbs that involved grabbing on rickety ventilation grates, and climbing up a thick cable as the last part of his route to reach the bridge of an abandoned Republic frigate.

“Hey, [y/n]!” he called as he pulls himself up to the ledge of the opening.

You immediately stop your welding, took off you mask and acknowledged his presence.

“Oh Cal, hey there,”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

He walked up to you and stood next to you, glancing over your shoulder and studying whatever it was you were tinkering.

“What are you still doing here? Today’s a half day!”

“Oh, right. I clocked out earlier with the rest of you guys, I just went back to finish this.”

“A speeder?”

“Yeah, well, sometimes the lifts barely fly or that the pilot droid’s busted so I figured this would be a better alternative—it’s only a prototype. I think it isn’t conducive for driving yet. I was just about to finish for today.”

You blanketed the speeder with an old canvas tarp and prepared to get yourself cleaned. Cal willingly helped you out in putting away your tools.

“So, are you going to Qeb’s blow-out tonight? His treat, he says.”

“Oh, that was today?”

Cal nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there!” you beamed.

“Great! I was… I was thinking we’d go there together.”

“I’d really love that, Cal,”

You could’ve sworn you spotted some color on Cal’s cheeks—even in the dimness of the sky and under the roof of your hideout. You bite your lip and pretend that you didn’t notice it.

“Well, that should be all of your stuff. I gotta go and get changed too.”

“Sure, I’ll see you tonight then,”

“Meet me at the scrapyard’s entrance gates?”

“Of course,”

Cal dismissed himself and left the bridge in the same path he got there. As soon as he got far enough from the bridge, he smuggled a celebratory smile and hissed a very private “Yes!” as he exited your hideout.

Cal met up with Prauf shortly after his visit to you.

“Oh, there you are, kid! Where have you run off to?”

“I just went to [y/n],” Cal couldn’t resist the smile curling up in his lip, it was one of those unconscious yet natural smiles. “I asked her to come with to Qeb’s little party at the pub.”

“So, it’s a date then?” Prauf teased, seeing that he was hopelessly smitten.

The warm color returned to Cal’s cheeks and he has no full control of it. The boy stammers his way to a coherent answer. Prauf bellowed in an endeared laughter.

“Come on, it’s not like that…” Cal defended.

“Oh, Cal, I think it is like that!”

Cal shrugged off the teasing and headed back to his place—an abandoned Venator that he has made into his home. He sheds his black-and-orange poncho on a makeshift rack—one of the many makeshift fixtures that he has resourcefully crafted ever since he’s called dibs on the abandoned ship—followed by removing the top part of his jumpsuit and then proceeds to get himself cleaned.

It was quiet inside his Venator home, but it was a peace that he had grown accustomed to.

He splashes a handful of cold water onto his face. He tilts his face away from the basin, letting the droplets trickle down his neck, his collarbones, and finally down to the groove in the center of his chest. The moonlight shines over the mirror with his foggy reflection, he gently scratches away the grime that collected on his face which he subsequently rinses off. He sighed under the moonlight, then scoops water into his cupped hands and brings it to his mouth. For his finishing touch, he combs and rakes his scarlet hair back like how he always have kept it.

Donning a fresh, black jumpsuit and a second poncho that looks exactly the same as the one he hung, he exits the Venator and makes his way to the entrance gates of the scrapyard—exactly where he promised you and he would meet.

“There you are,”

Your voice caused Cal to spin around until he spots you standing next to him. This was his first time seeing you with your hair down, since you always wear it in a ponytail during work. He examined you from head to toe: a black shirt under a navy blue, sleeveless leather coat, beige pants, and black boots. A new sight from your usually scrapper’s blue jumpsuit and poncho.

“Have you been waiting for a while?” you hummed.

“No, no. Not really,”

“Oh, that’s a relief. Thought I kept you waiting.”

“No, you didn’t. Don’t worry,” he smiled.

Cal walked by your side on the way to the pub, the both of you shouldered through the dense crowd in the city. It wasn’t an easy route though, some of the people accidentally bump or brush against your shoulder or arm as you follow the flow of the foot traffic. Cal decided to put his hand on the small of your back—which somehow made you flinch—guiding you while keeping you close to him.

“You look great, by the way,” Cal bashfully said, in the very little window of time where neither of you are pushing your way through the traffic.

“Thanks, you too.”

Eventually, you’ve arrived to the bar where the get-together was happening. It seems that they were about to start when you and Cal came in. There weren’t many who came, but most of them were from work—ones that you worked closely with and the friendlier ones too. All of you shared a table, exchanged stories about the past week over some drinks.

“I saw [y/n] work on something cool earlier,” Cal blurted and now everyone wants in on it.

“Oh? Let’s hear it!” Qeb, the Besalisk host, insisted.

“Nah, it was only a prototype. It’s a speeder I modified that can carry a few kilos of scrap—in case the lifts are busted.”

“Dibs on the first test drive once you’ve finished it,” Cal casually blurts.

“You got it,” you smile before bringing your glass to your mouth.

At the corner of his eye, Cal saw that Prauf was looking at him funny—but the scrapper boy clearly knows the message that his friend was trying to send. When you have put down the glass, it was too late for Cal to make the move for now. The conversation evolved into a banter of engineering tips, then it eventually transitioned into a recollection of each other’s funny stories that happened at work.

Apparently, the night was still young for Cal and you, even after Qeb’s get-together treat. Cal waited until Prauf, Qeb, and the others have left. He gently nudges you on the arm.

“Come on, follow me.”

A smirk plays along his face and takes a step ahead of you. Intrigued, you willingly followed; fortunately, the foot traffic was sparse, which made it easier for you to catch up to him. Cal led you back at the scrapyard, but along the way, you realize that it’s a route that’s unfamiliar to you.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, you’ll see!”

The farther you got, the more interesting this became.

“Careful when climbing the cable. Hope you’re not afraid of heights!”

“I’m kinda used to heights!” you chuckled.

The faint creaking of the cable that you were climbing on somehow worried you, but you didn’t let it ruin the fun; the sound of the twanging sound of the cable made your heart skip as you scaled it.

“Whoa!” you gasped when the cable loosened and jiggled, you were still clinging onto it—and you were only mere inches away from the ledge where the rope ends.

In that same split second, you felt Cal’s tight grasp on your arm, you tilt your head up and meet eyes with him.

“Don’t worry, I got you!” he reassured you.

You were startled from the near-death experience that you couldn’t say anything, though he sensed your gratitude.

“Come on, give me your other hand.” He coaxed.

You linked arms with one another and he pulls you up. He loses his footing causing him to stumble to his back, on the other hand, you landed on top of him while he was still clutching you in his arms. You gently lift your heads, exchanged glances at one another, and saw color fill your cheeks. The two of you communicated in small chuckles and shy stutters.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you bring yourself to your feet, offering him your hand which he gladly takes.

The cycle continued when you pull him up to his feet, his weight nearly made you lose your footing, but he caught you just in time by wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Got you—again.”

Cal releases you after a few seconds and then beckons you to follow him again.

“Are we close?”

“Yup!”

At last, he has led you to the highest point in the scrapyard, atop another Republic command ship but he has brought you to the roof of the main command center—or the bridge. The cold air was breathtaking, as well as the sight that the scrapyard has to offer—silhouettes of ships as far as the eye can see, dark indigo clouds looming in front of the pale, ivory moon.

“Oh wow…” you sighed. “I don’t think I’ve never seen a view of the scrapyard like this before.”

“Wait till you see Option B.”

He chuckled a bit, brings his finger to your cheek, and gently angles your head to the other direction.

The second view stole what little air remained in your lungs. It was a citywide view of Bracca: gigantic hologram projections of advertisements danced between blinding neon lights of every color, speeders and pods sped through in neat lines as they leave trails of lights from their taillights, even the people dotting the streets added some color.

“Oh God…” you gasped. “Why didn’t I see this before?”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Cal said while producing two cans of Jawa juice that he apparently bought earlier at the pub while you weren’t looking. He offered you the second one and clinked cans with one another.

You conversed while staring into the neon light-filled horizon of Bracca. The two of you had the same pose of propping your chins over your fists while sightseeing side-by-side.

Both of you spent the night with more stories, whether they were from the distant pasts—way before either of you ended up in Bracca—your plans for the future, the present, or shallow secrets. No detail was spared from this intimate conversation. In fact, it was one of the very rare moments that you actually open up—Cal was the only person you trusted and he has the same sentiment for you.

Your contagious laughter made Cal’s stomach fill with butterflies as he shared one story about himself as a child involving a cookie jar that didn’t belong to him, conspiring with one of the elderly keepers, and splitting the bounty—which were the cookies—until two in the morning.

When it appeared that neither of you have any more stories of your past to tell, you shift back into the topic of this place that he has brought you to.

“Do you always come here?”

He shakes his head, “Just occasionally.”

“I’m surprised you’ve kept a scene like this to yourself for so long. It’s just so pretty up here.”

“Yeah,” he cooed, then turned his head to you, his next word was a soft whisper. “Pretty.”

Cal watched the streaks of neon flicker as mere lines over your eyes, their glow mingled as they illuminated your face altogether, a smile slowly curls up at the corner of his lips; you slowly turn your head to him, never have you ever been this physically close to him you could practically kiss him.

You shoot him a bashful smile before returning your attention to the cityscape. Seeing your smile was always enough for him, he examined your features once more—for some reason, you looked somewhat a different person when not in your scrapper’s uniform. Nevertheless, he released a long, contented sigh, savoring the night with you by his side.