#and you can see that theme change over the weeks and months like layers of earth being excavated

[hairtusk]

i love tumblr's archive view so much you have no idea ... i love how cohesive my theme is

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.

[Part 2] Part 3

-> <-

You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.

Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.

You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.

Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.

You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.

Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.

When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.

Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.

You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?

You shy away from the window.

Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.

If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.

As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.

The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.

You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.

After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.

“Jesus!” You curse.

The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.

You toss the milk.

Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.

By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.

That’s exactly what you do.

The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’

You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.

“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.

You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”

“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”

“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”

The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.

The school bell rings.

You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.

Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.

You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.

Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.

Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.

“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.

Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”

You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?

“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.

You’re toast.

Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.

You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.

“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.

See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.

Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.

“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”

“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.

You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.

You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”

You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.

“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”

Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.

Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.

You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.

“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”

Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.

“What’s going on here?!”

Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.

“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.

“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.

Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”

You gulp.

It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.

You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.

That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.

After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.

“Over there!”

Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.

Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.

Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”

“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”

Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”

“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”

“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”

Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.

“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.

Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.

"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."

"This is so humiliating," you cry.

Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”

“You’re sorry?”

You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.

“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”

“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”

“Wild imagination?!”

“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”

“You done?”

“No!” You snap. “Yes.”

“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”

"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.

“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”

“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.

You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”

Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”

“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.

“We’re okay,” he says.

-> <-

Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.

“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.

Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”

“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”

Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.

“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”

“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”

Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.

Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.

“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”

Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!

“Really?” Wayne excites.

Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”

“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”

“No-,”

“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”

“Wayne-,”

“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”

“Wayne!”

“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”

That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.

You smoke one joint.

After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.

“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.

Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”

“Oh, my God.”

Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.

It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.

“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.

Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”

“Son-,”

“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”

Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.

“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”

Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.

“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.

He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.

“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.

Eddie nods.

“You have to try,” he insists.

“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.

Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.

Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.

Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.

Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.

You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.

When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.

Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.

When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.

The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.

Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.

Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.

Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.

You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.

This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.

The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.

Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.

Oh, God. What was he doing?

Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.

Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.

His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.

Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.

“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.

Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.

“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.

“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.

You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.

Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”

He reads your face.

“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”

Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”

While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.

You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.

The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.

You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.

You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.

Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’

You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?

Because that’s not you standing at the alter.

That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.

“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.

He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.

You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.

It doesn't take long for him to ask,

"Can I take you out sometime?"

And, of course, you say. "Yes!"

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG SUB/translation] Joker Out on Radio Maribor (22.10.2024)

Bojan, Jan, Kris and Nace were on Radio Maribor to talk about the new single 'Bluza', the new album, and the tour. You can listen to it here on RTV's Radio Maribor site.

Transcript and subtitles by members of JokerOutSubs, translation by @chaosofsmarty, drumbeat, and a member of JokerOutSubs, review by @kurooscoffee, IG anja_10, and a member of JokerOutSubs, native proofreading by IG gboleyn123.

The recording is audio only. You can find it with subtitles on our Youtube channel here:

You can also read the whole conversation in transcript form under the cut:

Host: Dear listeners, it's to my great honour and joy that we're hosting probably the most popular band in Slovenia at the moment, the moment lasting quite a while, but that's enough talking. Joker Out here in Radio Maribor's studio, hello.

Joker Out: Yeah, hello. Hi. Hello.

Host: Four out of five have crammed themselves in here, into our studio, and we'll start at the end, so with the latest single 'Bluza'. What can we say about 'Bluza'?

Bojan: 'Bluza' is the fourth single from our third studio album, which will be called 'Souvenir Pop'.

Host: Okay.

Bojan: It comes out on the 15th of November. The album doesn't really have a common theme audio-wise, just as souvenirs from longer travels usually don't have one. We see a lot of different places, different people, different cuisines and smells. And that's how this album will be too, which kind of works like all the memories we've acquired in a year and a half, let's say, since starting our Eurovision journey. And 'Bluza' is, let's say, this... ballad that includes synthesised sounds a bit more than usual. There's also quite a lot of back vocals, so we really played with synthesising a fair bit, and with vocal layering. But it ends in a sort of more classically rock style then.

Host: And if maybe bands, in Slovenia, too, like to make sure that an album has some kind of common theme, you went in a completely different direction.

Bojan: Yeah, we always go in another direction, usually, and... But I wouldn't say we do it intentionally, but let's say that with this album, it actually is conceptually planned that way, yeah.

Host: So all of the songs will be a bit different, right? There won't be a common theme.

Bojan: No.

Host: But it'll still be the recognisable Joker Out sound or style.

Bojan: Yeah, generally, if it comes from us, we think it's our style. Now... We've already had, let's say, a few moments of deviation from the so called classically recognisable style and that's how it'll be on this album, too.

Host: The next thing I'm curious about is your previous single, titled 'Šta bih ja'. What can you say about this one? We haven't hosted you yet with that single.

Bojan: Tell us, Kris.

Kris: 'Šta bih ja' is really the first song created during our two month stay in London. It's actually sort of... music, audio and message wise, the song that sort of represents our inner thoughts, I mean, our feelings, in London, where we realised... Where we first realised what it's like to be a foreigner in a country, what it's like to navigate a huge, endless city. And actually from that, then out poured a sort of totally Yugo, Yugo rock nostalgic song, that's actually really, really fun to play live.

Host: And if we're on the topic again, that some bands can do it by going to London to record for maybe a week and then they come back. No, you really moved to London, lived there, breathed in the air, and that's where the new album was created.

Bojan: That's where the inspiration for this album actually began. Really, the plan for London was to step away a bit from an environment that's familiar and comfortable to us. That we go there together, of course, to, for the first time, move into a space and to combine all the energy which accumulated over the years of our cooperation into two months of coexistence. And it's interesting to follow how the dynamics actually change, once you move in together with your partners, which we practically are, well, it’s like this sort of camaraderie. So yeah, we went to live in London for two months and it was very fun. Like Kris said, we were foreigners for the first time, we went to work, but at the same time we were sort of on holiday in our minds, because we didn't have any written schedules, we were our own bosses. So, an interesting experience.

Host: Is it important to you, to go out of your, like how the English say, "comfort zone"? That you get into a foreign environment, where everything is a bit new.

Nace: I mean, it definitely awakens some new, some new inspiration, something new, to... that is also, I think, evident in the music and our mutual relationship.

Jan: We had to move abroad so that we're even more rooted in our own familiar sound.

Bojan: That's it.

Host: But it's interesting that you didn't get that much of an English influence out of it, at least in terms of music, but you returned to your origins – maybe in quotation marks for some – so, the Balkans.

Bojan: Yes, Žarko Pak, our producer, came to London after us with a month and a half delay. And when we showed him what we've made, including 'Šta bih ja', he was smoking a cigarette and said: "Eh, is this what I sent you to London for, to do this, or what? What would happen if you were sent to Mostar to a studio, you'd go full on Beatles."

Host: So you surprised Žarko Pak, too...

Bojan: Absolutely.

Host: ... who's probably seen and heard many things.

Bojan:  He has, yeah.

Host: So from this London experience comes a Balkan album, there's a Balkan tour coming, which we'll talk about a bit more later. Now we're listening to the first single 'Bluza', which you performed live at Radio Si a few minutes ago, and now on Radio Maribor, too.

[Acoustic performance of ‘Bluza’.]

Host: Joker Out are still with us, we're listening to their music, and moving onto Eurovision for a bit. So, a question that probably isn't left out at any interview, or rarely. I have to, I'm curious myself. I was super proud of you, because it was the first time that a Slovenian band had such a perfect performance, so perfectly planned, you prepared so perfectly, you were everywhere. Usually Slovenian bands that represent us at the Eurovision Song Contest win at EMA, then there's a bit of calm, then there's the music video, maybe they show up in a show or two on foreign televisions, and that's it. But you really... Hats off to you.

Kris: Thank you.

Bojan: Thank you very much. It's very nice to hear that, and actually we also, during Eurovision, felt the support from home, very very nicely. And even when we returned from Liverpool, despite not getting the best result, we felt and also got back feedback that this event was followed with so much enthusiasm, love, support. And that really pleased us and I think that was also one of the main factors for why we did this the way we did, because it’s definitely important to have the wind in your sails, with these things.

Host: And it definitely also opened the door to Europe to you, which is now paying off with big tours, festival performances and so on.

Bojan: Absolutely.

Host: 'Carpe Diem' was the one that was at Eurovision, and for 'Carpe Diem' you went to Hamburg. That's where you recorded this song, so London, Hamburg, you're basically all over Europe.

Bojan: Yeah, the Beatles went from London to Hamburg, we went from Hamburg to... no, sorry, from Liverpool to Hamburg. And we went from Hamburg to Liverpool.

Kris: And then back to Hamburg.

Bojan: But look, we went back to Hamburg. Can someone take over?

Kris: Yeah, I mean, you know what, we recorded 'Carpe Diem' in a very, very good atmosphere in Hamburg, in that studio, called Clouds Hill. We then decided that... that we'd definitely return there for the rest of the album. And then we came back for one full month. I think now, we're fed up with it for quite some time, but another album was made there.

Host: In terms of going abroad, you also collaborated, one almost can't believe it, with Elvis Costello. How did that happen?

Bojan: Yeah, we also can't believe it. Anyway... Long story short. We happened to get, through a gentleman we know, who lives in Liverpool, the information that he actually knows Elvis and that the two are friends. Stephen, this man from Liverpool, is our big fan and supporter and he showed Elvis our music, and while listening to the second album, 'Novi val' kind of stuck in his ear. And got enough of his attention that Elvis offered to write an English version of the lyrics and a very short while later called us, too, saying he'd be interested in a duet, which we, of course, immediately accepted, with the utmost delight, because we were fans of Elvis's music before, too. And yeah, that's how it all then happened very quickly, and that actually came during Eurovision time, we released 'New Wave' before Eurovision. So that was a very energy-filled time for us.

Host: You didn't record with him, but the song was created...

Bojan: Exactly. He recorded the vocals in New York, where he lives, and we really didn't have any concrete plan that we'd meet in real life, too, because we always met only through video calls. And then it coincidentally happened on tour, on our Nordic tour, we found out at the first concert in Oslo that Elvis had a concert in the Oslo opera a day before us. And we wrote to him that it'd be great to see him, that we're coming to the concert and he said, "boys, you're going to come play 'Novi val', or 'New Wave', with me." So we suddenly found ourselves in the Oslo opera, and we played 'New Wave' with Elvis Costello and Steve Nieve. Which was truly, when you look at it, quite crazy.

Host: I'll keep digging within that same family, is there any interest in a collab with Diana Krall? Although maybe that's not exactly your cup of tea, like you'd say.

Jan: Diana, if you're listening, we're available.

Bojan: We're available.

Kris: Yeah, they say she's even harder to reach than Elvis, so.

Host: Maybe he'll give her a hint. A performance and a song, we now move over a bit to Gušti's concert, which took place a few days or a few weeks ago in Ljubljana. You performed there as well, of course. Not only as a family, but also in other ways. And with Gušti, you wrote and performed a song titled 'Tudi jaz'.

Bojan: It was written by Gušti.

Host: Yes.

Bojan: We performed it.

Kris: And played it.

Bojan: Yes. So, we sang and played it. It was the song 'Tudi jaz', which was created for a TV show which was supposed to happen, but in the end it didn't. The TV show was about children with special needs, and Gušti kind of felt that it would be nice for young people to contribute a musical piece, an opening theme, and through a strange set of circumstances, he asked his son's band. And then, of course, we recorded it. The song was never officially released, right, because the show never happened either. Until now, when Gušti included it in his album, and we are, of course, honoured by that. It's interesting to see something resurface after a long time, and take shape.

Host: Was this one of your first serious projects in a studio space?

Kris: It was...

Host: Or maybe even the very first?

Kris: It wasn’t the first; the first one was 'Kot srce, ki kri poganja', but this one came right after. And maybe it wasn’t a completely serious studio, because we recorded it in a rehearsal space.

Bojan: Oh, come on, you can't diss that studio, it was a great studio.

Kris: I mean, look, it was a decent studio, but it was a bit homemade, you know.

Bojan: Yeah, well, that's true...

Kris: But in any case, yeah, it was... I remember Jan and I recorded together for the first time back then. Do you remember? We recorded that solo together. And I think maybe...

Jan: When we alternated.

Kris: Yes, yes, yes. That felt like... I was really proud of that at the time, that we recorded a solo together.

Jan: Yes, yes. Harmony.

Kris: Harmony, yes.

Host: But the disappointment wasn't too big, considering that the song was never officially released until now?

Kris: Not really, why?

Jan: It wasn't released, but we actually played it a lot in concerts, even at Cvetličarna.

Bojan: We played it for the first presentation of the first album.

Kris: Three years ago.

Bojan: Yes. We preferred playing original songs over covers.

Host: Okay.

Bojan: So we took every possible opportunity for the original songs, whichever way possible, to be included in our concert setlists, and as you said, 'Tudi jaz' stayed on the setlist for quite a while.

Host: You also performed quite a bit at festivals this year, some of which were the biggest festivals in the world. You were at Sziget, you were at Exit again. Are there any other festivals that you performed at that left a powerful impression on you?

Bojan: Absolutely. Ruisrock in Finland.

Kris: Summer Well in Bucharest, Romania.

Bojan: Fantastic festival.

Kris: An excellent festival, yes.

Jan: Those were probably the top four.

Bojan: Those were the top four, I'd say. Exit, Sziget...

Jan: Summer Well.

Bojan: ...Ruisrock and Summer Well were real highlights.

Host: And during these festivals, did any of the performers really stick in your memory?

Bojan: I’d say that in Romania, I... we all stayed to listen to Two Door Cinema Club and Keane, and Keane completely blew us away. I’ve never heard a better male vocalist live, honestly...

Host: Than Tom Chaplin.

Bojan: At least in the mainstream scene. It was truly amazing, everything, in terms of the sound, the production, the concert. That probably stuck with me the most this year.

Nace: I also remember that we were... Jan and I went to see Prodigy in Germany after our performance. That was a very... visually engaging concert.

Host: Before we wrap up this segment, I’m curious, let’s stay on this topic. Is there anyone else you'd like to see perform live?

Bojan: In general?

Host: Anything goes.

Kris: To share the stage with them, or...

Host: Both, maybe, either to share the stage, collaborate, or just watch them and think, "Ah, that’s it."

Bojan: I’d love to see Bruno Mars.

Host: Okay. Good one.

Kris: I agree, I agree.

Jan: Maybe in the Silk Sonic setup as well.

Bojan: Uh, yes. That would also be great.

Jan: It would be fantastic.

Bojan: I’d love to see Parcels live.

Host: Okay.

Jan: You haven't seen L'Impératrice yet?

Bojan: I haven’t seen L'Impératrice, but I’d also...

Jan: Did they...

Nace: Now you won't.

Kris: I’d love to share the stage with Arctic Monkeys, for sure.

Host: Okay.

Kris: That would be...

Host: Though their last album is really different from all the others they've released.

Kris: It’s different, but I think it’s great that they’re different. Honestly, I also think that our new album was influenced by some of Arctic Monkeys's more recent albums.

Bojan: Like 'Everybody’s Waiting,' for example.

Kris: Some of the slower songs. So that's something near and dear to us as well.

Host: Joker Out, live on Radio Maribor.

[song break]

Host: Joker Out are still here with me. We’re talking about everything. And now the third album titled 'Souvenir Pop' is coming up. You announced the title on Friday. Why 'Souvenir Pop'? Does the title hold a special meaning? You’ve already mentioned that the album is a mix of different songs.

Bojan: Yes, as I mentioned earlier, for the first time in our lives, we were influenced by a long period of travelling. We were literally living out of a suitcase. I think we all had at least two or three suitcases packed with clothes, which we then swapped among ourselves, throwing the dirty ones into the laundry. Our lives, for the past year and a half, felt like we were collecting souvenirs. We practically woke up every morning in a different city, in a different country, often in cities or countries we’d never been before. And all these memories and events are kind of our souvenirs. And it's captivating, Kris said it beautifully yesterday, that he can very clearly visualise, with almost every song, a place, a smell, a colour, a taste, something that reminds him of a specific event, and I agree with him. And because of that, we feel like this journey, this pop moment, blends beautifully with souvenirs, and 'Souvenir Pop' brings it all together nicely.

Host: How would you say this album is different from the previous two?

Bojan: I’d say it’s a much more mature album in terms of exploring different arrangements, in terms of the preparing the arrangements. Also, lyrically, I hope it’s apparent, or at least from what we have released, I received feedback that they are a step up. I also feel like it's a part of a completely different phase of life, and that shows. There was a lot of instrumental exploration. I think Jan made the biggest leap on this album.

Jan: Yes, I added a few more instruments besides guitar. Mostly synthesizer, actually. With 'Everybody’s Waiting', when we went to the studio in Kočevje, we were kind of stuck, we didn’t know exactly where to go with the arrangement. And then we... I’m not sure who came up with that drum transition, but it kind of set the right mood. Then we saw a Rhodes piano in the control room, so I plugged that Rhodes into an amp. I had never really played the piano before that, I have a pianino at home, so I had just enough knowledge to make that song. And then I kind of got into it. I’m very interested in synthesizers as well, and... That’s also reflected in the... In the music of the upcoming album, yes, lots of synthesizers, electric pianos, and stuff like that.

Host: And you’re going to present everything with a big Balkan tour, starting on November 22nd with a sold-out concert at Cvetličarna. Does that mean fans will be able to hear 'Souvenir Pop' in full?

Kris: Yes.

Bojan: Exactly, that’s what it means. On this tour, we will play the entire 'Souvenir Pop' album, but I should emphasise, that doesn’t mean we won’t play songs from the first two albums, because many people send messages asking, "Does this mean you’ll only play the new music and nothing old?" No, absolutely not, you’ll be attending a very classic concert, which will include all 10 songs from the new album. Tickets are still available for the second concert at Cvetličarna, which takes place the next day, on Saturday. There aren’t many left, but there are some, so anyone who wants to come to Ljubljana is welcome. On December 6th, we’ll be at Štuk in Maribor, so you are more than welcome to come to this concert as well.

Kris: I would just add that I think this will be one of the few opportunities to hear the entire new album live, because later on, or in the new year, we’ll have to adapt our programs for festivals, where you have an hour to... You can't fit all the new material into one hour, so.

Host: Will this tour end in Vienna on December 9th, or will it continue?

Bojan: No, this tour will wrap up in Vienna. In the upcoming year, for the first two months, we'll finally have some time off, meaning we won’t have any obligations tying us down, where in our free time we won't have to answer phones or deal with logistical issues, or work on, I don’t know, preparing songs, making final touches, editing, and so on. So, we plan to have two months off to return fresh, let’s say, in early spring, and start with concerts. We will also perform in Slovenia more next year than in this year.

Host: Is that a promise?

Bojan: That’s a promise we plan to keep.

Host: Okay. You've sold out Stožice Arena, you've had concerts at Tabor Hall in Maribor before. Why have you now decided to perform at Štuk on the 6th of December?

Bojan: For the soul.

Host: Okay.

Bojan: This entire tour that we're doing at the end of the year is basically for the soul. It will take place at home, that is to say, near home, which is all, let's say, home for us, and it will take place in clubs. We've been visiting clubs in Europe for a year and a half now and we realised that it suits us best by far, because we can be close enough to the audience to feel one another, and it's just big enough to not be totally private. And it's where we can let go and relax the most, and I think that the audience also enjoys those concerts the most, so we said, "Let's do this tour in places that we love," and Štuk is definitely one of those places. We've already had three or four concerts at Štuk, maybe. I think it was 3 concerts in Štuk, which were all wonderful and all unique, so yes, we're really looking forward to it.

Host: To keep digging, what are fans from Štajerska like?

Bojan: Top notch.

Kris: Fans from Štajerska have actually very much been there for us since the beginning. We were, I was just talking to someone from Radio Si earlier, about how we were in Maribor five times in 2022.

Bojan: Yes.

Kris: Which is a bizarrely large number, especially looking back on it now, because abroad, you visit maybe one city per year, so to have shown up in Maribor five times, twice at Štuk, at Lampiončki, at Lent, all that... Štajerska has always been quite... It always welcomed us with open arms, so we're also always happy to return.

Bojan: And I'd like to add just one more thing, the first album, 'Umazane misli', was partially made in this house as well, because we recorded the drums and some of the guitars in your studio.

Host: In Studio 22.

Bojan: In Studio 22, exactly. So there you go, there is actually a lot tying us to this city.

Host: I'd like to know something else before we move on, Chrissie Hynde, the singer of The Pretenders, wrote on her social media a few days ago that she has a bit of an issue with the same fans constantly being in the front row at concerts. Is that a problem that perhaps arises for you too, namely, that it's always the same people, we call them "superfans", following you from concert to concert. And that you always see the same ones in... well, more at the front.

Bojan: We absolutely see the same people in the front rows at many, many concerts. I just don't really know where the problematic part is.

Host: Me neither, but I'm curious.

Bojan: Yes, me too.

Kris: Yeah, my mum actually sent me that, on Instagram, like, look what she said. And I was like, yeah, okay, interesting, but you have to be in a pretty weird position to complain about that. I mean, I'm happy to see all those familiar faces there. And anyway, for our concerts, it's usually so that those who want to can buy a ticket for early entry into the venue, so I think it's not an issue that other people wouldn't be able to get what they want. At the same time, we always like to see those that are always there.

Host: December 6th in Štuk, in Maribor, the band Joker Out.

[song break]

Host: Joker Out are still with me, so let's... I'm curious about something. You've focused quite a lot on the Balkan market, and there are more and more songs in, let's say, a non-Slovene language. And while quite a few Slovenian bands decided to sing in English, because they thought it would help them break through internationally, you've chosen the language of our former homeland. Why? I know it's closer to you (Bojan) and so on, but what was the main reason?

Bojan: Well, the main reason was actually that I started to enjoy writing in non-Slovene more and more, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way for Slovene, but it's just that we were away from home so much, we had so much contact with people who spoke this or that language, that I often caught myself thinking in those languages. And ideas actually started cropping up in them and it was clearly just an era of life in which... I created in those languages, right. I'm not a fan of changing the lyrics that are developed as an already very solid story in a specific language, into another language, just for the sake of changing the language. So on this album... that's also what sets it apart, like we said at the beginning. For the first time, we have three languages on the album, Slovene, Serbian, Serbo-Croatian, whatever, and English. So it's already a very colourful album in that regard, but that was never, I'd say, a way to gain an audience abroad or a massive attempt to have a breakthrough abroad, it's truly just a way of thinking, and I think that's a lot more honest than translating everything back into Slovene.

Host: Slightly older Slovenian bands, I'm thinking of Lačni Franz, maybe Pankrti, perhaps Vlado Kreslin, still to this day have cult status in Yugoslavia, in the area of former Yugoslavia.

Bojan: And Buldožerji.

Host: Absolutely, Buldožerji as well, and there's more. But is it time now for Joker Out to break new ground?

Bojan: Absolutely.

Kris: We're already breaking it.

Bojan: We’re breaking it. With shovels for now, but...

Host: Is this success, especially as far as Serbia goes, perhaps also the result of the number of times you performed at Exit?

Bojan: The first time we performed at Exit festival, it was on one of the side stages, and there really wasn't a big, big audience, and even the ones who were there mostly came from Slovenia. But it's very nice, because this year we performed on the main stage, and basically at the prime time, at 15 past 11, if I'm not mistaken, just before Black Eyed Peas, and we had, I don't know, 15 or 20,000 people, who sang our lyrics very smoothly. That was, I would say, a pretty crazy leap.

Host: How do social media posts influence what you do? Perhaps you let certain comments get under your skin a bit, or do you wave them away like, "So what?"

Jan: Well, I think we've kind of stopped reading the comments. I think we've also pretty much all deleted Twitter, because it was starting to slightly negatively affect certain aspects of our psyche. But we still like to post, because it's good, especially now, when we're promoting and making new music, that people know what's coming up and know that there are concerts where they can see us. So it remains a very important part of our everyday life. But sometimes it's better not to read what people think.

Bojan: Yeah, the problem is that it's very much a double-edged sword, because it's really nice to be in touch with fans, right, because above all, they fill you with energy to work, and... We absolutely also often give them, I don't know, a reason for a better day, a reason to smile, and so on. But on the other hand, just like Jan said, it's very hard to filter out those moments when you unintentionally come across something that can very quickly hurt you. And to then find a healthy boundary, that can be kind of complicated sometimes.

Host: And now, the most important question of the day. Just kidding. What does the radio mean to you nowadays? Does it even still mean anything?

Bojan: That's a good question.

Kris: What would I do in this black night without you, radio?

Bojan: Yeah, the radio, I would say... For example, Jure, who's not here, I know he listens to the radio the most by far. The radio means... The thing is, in various aspects, I really stand behind the idea that until you're present in classic media, that is, on the radio, on TV, in the newspapers, you cannot enter the world of... let's say entertainment, successfully. So I don't understand it when someone says, for example: "Who cares if your song isn't on the radio, it doesn't matter, blah blah blah." Social media is absolutely more and more important, but being relevant through the radio, I still consider that to be very serious and very important. But it saddens me that there's less and less radio work on the radios, that is, there's less and less music curation, less and less quality musical journalism, I really miss that, right. We're really lacking music reviews and so on in Slovenia. Like, okay, with you, thankfully, radio editorial work is still alive, but we know that at commercial radios, more and more work is done by artificial intelligence, right, and robots. And that kind of undermines the whole point of the radio for me.

Host: Where will you perform, or will you perform at all, for New Year's and Christmas this year? Or will you enjoy the time after the tour by...

Bojan: That's a good question, perhaps someone knows how to answer it?

Jan: If nothing else, we might play guitar to each other under our Christmas trees.

Kris: Yeah, I think we'll play some more, but I don't know if we can announce anything yet.

Host: I completely understand. And finally, I'd like to know, you've already spoken a bit about the plans for next year, that is, a month or two of complete rest. À propos, what does complete rest mean for a band like you, who are used to being in the studio, working, promoting, how do you...

Bojan: Take all that out of the equation and you get complete rest.

Host: So two months of rest, and then what?

Bojan: Well, then it's on the road again. (singing) Just can't wait to get back on the road again.

Host: So, boys, we will see you and hear you again, as is only right. I'm very happy that you were in the studio with me today, so, Joker Out, on the 6th of December, we're revisiting Štuk hall in Maribor, and before that Cvetličarna, and many other places. And next year, as you've already promised, other places in Slovenia as well.

Bojan: Absolutely.

Host: Boys, thank you very much for this and all the best with the continuation of your musical journey

Bojan: Thank you very much, back at you.

[holisticsoulhealer]

Integrity - A Spiritual Story

There have been many, many beautiful stories of enlightenment that have shown up in my life and practice over the years. The truth of those stories of human growth, love, endurance and significance, hold a massive thread of integrity in my personal journey. One theme that has come about in various forms, has included shifting the perspective of suffering into the heroes’ pathway of self mastery and personal discovery.

One example of this came in the form of individuals bringing their challenges, asking me and the guidance that flows through me for them, how to manage the energy of a spouse or partner. In many cases the person was ill or addicted in ways that were hard to manage for the individual who sat before me and all the guides.

To help them we first had to move away from their partner’s issues, and change the focus to them, empowering their own energetic field, to discover what they needed and what was missing in them, that their focus was on who they were living with. It became clear that their truth was covered in layers of concern, frustration or misunderstanding of the person’s truth or lack of that they were becoming consumed with.

We first had to take the time to find out who the person was with or without their partner. It was vital to discover what granted them the best joy, the most incentive to live and thrive, regardless of who they shared time with. In some cases, especially with long term relationships, one person became lost in another, and didn’t actually know how they felt, who they were, or what made them happy any longer. They had misplaced their truth, their integrity. It was the job of the guides and me as a conduit, to help them relocate what mattered to them, where they could feel their value, their grace and all the qualities that form a person’s true essence. Sometimes it happened quickly with loads of willingness and a spoonful of courage, while others took weeks, months and very rarely, years to uncover their true calling to this world.

When I’ve witnessed the opening of an individual’s truth, massive and sweet integrity and unique qualities, it’s been breathtakingly beautiful to witness. I highly recommend constantly peeling away any layers, especially those that aren’t our own, and uncovering our true selves every single day.

As always, please share this post with anyone that you feel can benefit from it! Please like us on your social media channels and subscribe to our mailing list if you haven't already done so! We are mailing out a monthly newsletter and a recap each week of our blog posts and interesting tidbits! This is how you can stay informed with what is new in the world of The Holistic Soul Healer!!

Love & Blessings,

Ruth

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[lost-kiwi-dev]

❝beneath the bright, flashing neon signs and thick layer of oppressive smoke, a monster stirs. their sight locks onto an unassuming figure — the target they've waited months to inflict revenge on. a maniac cackle slips through their lips, their mind utterly consumed with the euphoric feeling brought about by their distorted perception of justice. what was that phrase again? oh, that's right — an eye for an eye.❞

In Pendosa, there is civil unrest. The people demand change from a government that prefers to turn a blind eye to any of their wrongdoings. The people are angry, sick, and starving — but the president is just as stubborn and determined to hide this problem from the general public.

In Zesa City, you live a life of relative luxury with your roommate and best friend. The capital is the hub for the entertainment industry — it is where dreams are simultaneously realised and broken, and reputation trumps all moral code. You don't have to look very hard to see the other side of Zesa — the poverty, drug, and crime centre known as the Underground sticks out like a sore thumb, although the government prefers to ignore this suffering, too.

In the Underground, your older sister is murdered. Within a matter of weeks, your life is flip flopped on its head and, after the police refuse to investigate further, you decide to get to the bottom of the mystery yourself.

Travelling into the heart of the city, where crime runs through the veins of all its residents, was always going to be dangerous. Luckily you manage to scrounge up a motley group of misfits who are willing to assist you on the biggest journey you've ever been on. And you will soon be grateful for their support, as you come face to face with a dark, vengeful figure from your past you've tried your best to forget about.

In Pendosa, a revolution is coming, and when you inevitably find yourself right in the centre of it, you finally wonder whether you've dove too far deep into water you cannot emerge from.

A fully customisable character — play as male or female and choose your appearance and shape your personality [currently working on non-binary options]

Romance one of five of your fellow misfits!

Come to terms with the murder of your beloved older sister, Belle, and the effect this has on your parents

Solve the murder!

Face off with a shadow from your past

Explore the dark underbelly of the Underground, and the interesting people who call it home

Get to know your five closest allies, forge bonds, and destroy them just as easily

Discover controversial secrets the government has been hiding from the public

Eat trash?

And more to be added!

We All Bleed Red is currently rated 18+ for dark themes (murder, abusive relationships, violence, suicide, etc) as well as mentions of drugs/alcohol and swearing.

PLAY THE DEMO HERE

all ROs genders are player selectable and, as you will never be asked to state your sexual inclination, are avaliable to all players!

the artist — chengyi/changjie huang

Loyal to a fault, C has been your roommate for three years now, and has known your sister for just as long. Devastated by your older sister's death, C does not hesitate to assist you in your quest to find her murderer. A dark sense of humour, amateur art skills, and a painful lack of confidence seem to follow C where ever they go, but you really couldn't ask for a better best friend. Over the years, you've noticed a change in your relationship with C — there seems to be a vague line between the two of you that you are both too scared to cross, although C seems to be testing how far they can push, and you know they would love nothing more than to call themselves yours. Will C be able to finally tell you how they feel about you, or will their child-like love only put your investigation in jeopardy?

the journalist — noel/noelle reid

Despite being the child of a baron, there is no love lost between N and their family. Brought up to believe in treating someone well until you have the chance to strike, N seems to lack any grasp on who they actually are as a person, and what they value most. On the surface N is as charming as anything, but there is a rage bubbling under the surface ready to blow at any moment. Finding an interest in journalism and learning of other people's stories, N offers you their skills in your investigation while trying their best to ignore the implication the tag 'the family disappoinment' has on their life. Will you be able to help N gain a sense of identity, or will they poison your own heart with their destructive presence?

the rebel — yuri/yaryna tarasovich

51% motherfucker, 49% son of a bitch — Y runs one of the most notorious gangs in the Underground. While just as morally ambiguous and dramatic as you expected they would be, Y also has a curious habit of never taking anything too seriously, to the point where you wonder how they actually manage to lead a gang as fear-inciting as The Liberation. Their insight into the dark underworld of gang society makes them a crucial member of your amateur detective squad — well, they would be if they would stop flirting with you every chance they get. Y has the bad tendency of loving and leaving whatever pretty little thing captures their eye: will you be able to convince Y you're well worth keeping around, or will your heart simply be the next one they break?

the prodigy — vinesh/varsha kusari

The child of the chief police commissioner, V is furious when they find out their mother has given up on your sister's case, and is the one to suggest you start to investigate it yourself. However, don't mistake their initiative for a helping hand — V is only assisting you to prove themself to their mother. In fact, V tries their best to make this very clear: their presence soon becomes more overbearing and controlling than anything, as they insist on disagreeing with every suggestion you have about the case. Additionally, you can never actually tell what they are thinking — is that stare they're sending you a look of longing or disbelief? Will you be able to break through V's cold, emotionless exterior, or will their stubbornness be the downfall of the whole investigation?

the fighter — lian/leilani soriano

L has met evil when they were just a child, although it seems the dark tendrils of the Underground haven't managed to pierce their heart quite yet. Initially suspicious of you at first, L is quick to change their tune. With a heart of gold and the demeanor of your typical 'dad friend', they are hesitant to fully assist you with your impromptu investigation due to the trauma of their past, but are influenced to help by their unwavering morality.  However, L has tried to bury events in their past deep, just like you, and they threaten to spill over the further you sink into the dark underbelly of the Underground. Will you support L as they work through the trauma of their past, or will you merely be another presence in their life who leaves them eventually?

more about the ros | about me! | updates

[the-witty-pen-name]

Can’t Help Falling in Love

Loki x Reader (f) 

Valentine’s Day with the God of Mischief 

Based on suggestion by: @squadleaderchase​

A/N: Thank you so much for the suggestion! I loved writing this, it was so much fun! 

Happy Valentine’s Day y’all!

There is also a gender neutral version of this fic, and will be posted shortly after this one! Read it here! 

I recommend to putting on Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis towards the end just for that finishing touch! 

Summary: When Loki learns about the traditions of Valentine’s Day, he asks you to be his Valentine- and reluctantly takes advice from Steve Rogers. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: none; just fluff 

“Can’t Midgardians have a holiday that doesn’t involve such a grotesque display of… red?” Loki asks walking into the living room of the Avengers compound. Loki arrived at the compound a few weeks before Christmas and so far, he’s experienced two Earth holidays: Christmas and New Year’s. Of course, Tony had picked the theme for both parties to be elaborately red and gold- he claimed the fact that it matched his suit was merely a coincidence.

“Just wait until next month,” you reply casually, your eyes not leaving the brief you were reading while you sat cozied up in one of the large armchairs. “I think you’ll like St. Patrick’s Day much more… color scheme wise at least.”

Loki looked up curiously at the hearts of all shades of red and pink Natasha had hung up to decorate the Avengers’ living quarters. She had gone to visit Clint’s family and his kids spent hours making Valentines and decorations out of construction paper and glitter. Loki looked almost puzzled at the lopsided hearts that hung from the ceiling on transparent line so they looked like they floated mid-air.

“Perhaps I might,” he mumbled to himself, the lovesick aura of his surroundings making him slightly disgusted. “Though I suppose I find your rituals as bizarre as you’d find on Asgard.”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled in response to his thinking out loud. It was rare that the compound would be this quiet. It was a Friday evening and in the middle of a team meeting earlier today, Tony declared exhaustedly that everyone needs to start the weekend early and dismissed everyone despite Steve’s protests. You weren’t sure where everyone else went and you didn’t particularly care- enjoying the rare peace and quiet.

You didn’t mind Loki’s company. He was a little aloof but overall, you found him more to be misunderstood than anything else. He wasn’t like Thor and sure, he had a very trouble ridden past to downplay it- but he’s confided in you all it wasn’t entirely his doing. Out of everyone living at the compound, he probably had grown the closest to you, or as close as Loki would allow himself to be to someone.

“What even is this holiday?” Loki asked, pulling his attention from the decorations to where you sat, binder in your lap. You looked up and closed the brief, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of where you sat.

“Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” you say looking back over to him, meeting his eyes. “I mean overtime the traditions and how we celebrate have changed but it’s originally the day meant to honor St. Valentine and commemorate his death. There’s a lot more to it than that and there’s all different of different origins, but now it’s more like a day where you celebrate love, because he was the patron Saint of Love.”

Loki nods, liking the idea of this holiday much more than New Years already. He didn’t mind Christmas, but the elaborate parties made everything not very appealing to him. You can’t blame the god for not having a good time at parties where every guest fears him or hates him. He walks over and takes a seat on the couch and crosses his legs. He was intrigued enough to continue the conversation and ask you more questions. “What are the traditions?” He asks curiously.

“Traditionally, you would ask someone to be your Valentine, and that’s the person you want to spend the day with,” you answer with a small shrug, trying to explain a holiday you’ve never had to explain before. “Some people have it easy and they ask their significant other, and if you don’t have one, you ask someone you’re romantically interested in to be your Valentine. Then you give each other gifts, like chocolates or flowers, anything really that’s romantic and you go out on a date, like a nice dinner but it doesn’t have to be. That’s the basic gist.”

“Thank you, (y/n),” Loki said, mulling over your explanation. “You’ve been helpful, as always. Tell me, who’s your Valentine?”

“I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. The only time you really celebrated was when you had been with someone. You’d never really participated otherwise. You planned to just spend the night alone or with Nat if she also didn’t have plans and probably watch a movie- most definitely Pride and Prejudice.

“Shame,” Loki said with a tsk. “Perhaps, if you would be interested, you could be my Valentine?”

“Really?” you ask, honestly surprised.

“I actually like the idea of the day,” Loki shrugged. “And I don’t know many people, people seem to hate me on this planet- no idea as to why. You’ve always been kind to me, and you are the most tolerable person I’ve encountered on this planet.”

“That’s oddly very kind of you,” you say with a chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiments. Um, yes. I’d be happy to be your Valentine.”

“Excellent,” he grinned. He clapped his hands together and stood up. “Splendid. I’ll ask Thor to help me plan something.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you smile, picking up your paperwork again as Loki heads off to find his brother.

***

“Brother,” Thor’s voice echoed in the training room. “Spar with me?”

“As much as I would love to,” Loki said sarcastically, “I need your help with something I need to plan.” Loki walked over to the side of the mat where Thor had been training with Captain Rogers.

“Plan what?” Captain Rogers asked curiously. It was an innocent enough question but Loki took it as Rogers insinuating his distrust in him. Of course, Loki can’t blame the man but it did rub him the wrong way.

“If you must know Captain Rogers, I’m making plans for this upcoming Valentine’s Day,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure since you have quite the active love life recently, your words of wisdom are probably of infinite value.”

“You can learn a thing or two from me,” Steve retorted as he put the punching bag beck into place. “But I don’t like your attitude.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you,” Loki scoffed. He turned his attention back to his brother. “I need help to determine where I should take (y/n) and what I should get her.”

“(y/n) agreed to this?” Thor asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Rogers kept his mouth shut, deciding to see where this conversation will go before

“Yes, brother. I asked her to be my Valentine as stated by tradition and she said yes.”

“Ah! Good for you, brother!” Thor exclaimed, happily. “I’m glad you’re immersing yourself in the Midgard culture.”

“Yes, yes,” Loki waved him off, “Now, please, tell me what I should do.”

“I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day,” Thor says with a shrug and a sympathetic look. “I haven’t had much opportunity to explore the culture. Every time I’m on this planet I’m a little busy preventing its destruction. Perhaps Rogers can help you?”

Loki let out an exasperated sigh. He avoided Rogers as he knew the man had such a smug look on his face. Loki refused to give him the satisfaction. However, he realized that wouldn’t be fair to you. Rogers not only knew what to do, but he was also close friends with you. He quickly realized if he wanted to celebrate with you properly, he’d need to rely on the infamous super soldier.

“Captain Rogers,” Loki said with a charismatic smile, turning back to the man. “I wholeheartedly apologize for my lack of… social niceties. If you’d be willing to help me, to ensure your dear friend enjoys her holiday, I would be sincerely grateful.”

“Only because of (y/n),” Rogers says skeptically, waving a finger at Loki. “She deserves to enjoy her time and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you screw up her evening.”

“What a loyal friend.”

Years later, the Avengers would still talk about the fact Loki cared about you so much, he sought out advice from Captain America and Thor. And as Captain America said, he helped Loki with every last detail and Steve never let Loki forget it.

***

Loki had told you that he’d come to your room to get you at 6 o’clock Sunday evening. He wore clothes he had picked out, black dress pants, a white button-down shirt and shiny, black dress shoes. He had kept the last button of the shirt unbuttoned and he had rolled the sleeves up, a styling tip he had gotten from Thor. He had his long hair gelled back and tamed, ignoring Captain Roger’s horrible suggestion for a haircut. He felt very weird not wearing any green, but he took the advice he was given on his ensemble.

You were just putting on your heels when he knocked at your door Sunday promptly at 6pm. Of course, Loki would be very punctual. You gave yourself one more quick once more in the mirror in your room before heading to answer the door.

You had on a pair of dark green heels that perfectly matched your dress. You also layered over the outfit a suede brown jacket, that complimented the jewel tone of the dress and shoes nicely. You kept your appearance simple, sticking to how you usually styled your hair. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you quickly opened the door, your jacket and bag both in hand.

“Wow,” you say with a grin, when you take in Loki’s appearance. “You look very nice.”

“You look stunning,” Loki said, his eyes widening, taking in your appearance. The compliment made you have butterflies.

“Thank you,” you said with false confidence. Underneath, you were a nervous wreck as you took the arm that he extended to you.

“So,” Loki began to walk down the hallway with you. “Apparently, this planet has something called reservations, and anyone who tries to get one a few days before Valentine’s Day is a “moron,” according to a very rude young man I had the pleasure of speaking with- the first time using a phone too on top of that. So, I hope you don’t mind if the evening is a little… makeshift.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” you reassure him. You feel him relax slightly. You found how hard he was trying so endearing.

Where else did he bring you but just down the hall to the living room. At night with the lights dimmed, combined with Natasha’s homemade decorations, it actually looked quite beautiful. He had decorated with an eclectic array of candles as well that covered most surfaces of the room. It also looked like he had swiped every throw pillow in the whole compound and had them arranged the coffee table in the center of the room.

“Did you do all of this?” You ask in awe.

“Yes,” he replied, just watching you. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect.”

“I had to make my own version of advice I received,” he disclosed to you. You sat opposite each other on either side of the coffee table, you kicked off your heels and he did the same with his shoes. “Captain Rogers said- and I’m trying my best to quote verbatim, ‘You need to show a girl a good time. You gotta take her to dinner and dancing.’” He even mimicked Steve’s voice perfectly. It made you laugh.

“I can’t believe you subjected yourself to Steve for me, I’m touched,” you smiled. “I mean I love Steve,” you continue, “But I can’t imagine you too being best friends anytime soon.”

“No, I suppose we probably won’t be,” Loki chuckles.

“I hate to point it out,” you continue, “but I think you missed both the dinner part and the dancing part of that plan.” Loki smirked and when you blinked, he transformed the whole room.

“Did I?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised. You gasp, looking around the room you were now in. You knew it was an illusion, but it felt very real. The atmosphere, the breeze coming in from the large bay windows that weren’t there before. The coffee table now a table now one of many dining tables in an incredibly high-end restaurant. The table had food, and a bottle of wine. You were stunned. There was a live band and other couples in other tables and out on the dancefloor.

“Loki?” You exclaimed, looking around at your new surroundings. It was amazing. You couldn’t believe the magic right before your eyes. Of course, you knew it was just one of his tricks, but it felt so incredibly real. You picked up your fork and took a bite of the food in front of you. It was incredible, you questioned if you were even eating.

“It’s real,” Loki said, like he could read your mind. Honestly, he had only just anticipated your next question. “I made it. Well, I made it with Friday’s supervision.”

“It’s fantastic! I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just for me.”

“Sweetheart, you are very much worth it- worth much more than this,” he responded casually, throwing in the term of endearment to see how you’d react. He caught the way it made you smile.

You continued to talk for a little while, and shared stories. You were worried that compared to his life on Asgard, he’d find your stories incredibly boring and mundane. It seemed to be the opposite. His attention was only on you and he held on to every word you said. He created this elaborate setting just to keep you the center of his attention.

“Should we dance?” He asks suddenly, a glimmer in his eye. You looked down apprehensively.

“I’m not really a dancer,” you tried to insist.

“Do you actually not want to dance, darling? Because if so, I will not bring it up again,” he says earnestly, “But, if you’re saying no because you’re afraid I’m going to judge you, I honestly can promise you I would never dream of doing so.”

You give it another moment to ponder over his words. You were taken aback at how well he seemed to know how you were thinking. You let out a sigh of defeat, and smile. “I’d love to,” you reply.

He stands up and offers you his hand. His smile is enough to make you weak at the knees. You take his hand and he leads you over to the dancefloor as the band starts playing its next song. “Does that singer sound like Elvis?” You ask, the small glitch in the illusion throwing you off for only a moment.

“I don’t know who that is,” Loki says with a laugh. He pulls you in close and rests one hand on the small of your back and the other grasps your hand close. You wrap your other arm around his shoulder. You are both pressed up incredibly close to one another. You rest your head on his chest comfortably, and you can’t see how much the action makes his whole face go red. Guiding your movements together, it mostly just swaying in place. The steps were small, and with the music playing for the two of you.

“This place is incredible,” you sigh happily looking up at him. “But I think I liked the first place a little better.”

He nodded in agreement and you got to watch a green hue encompass the walls of the restaurant as they almost melted away, and everything around the two of you just fade away. The sconces on the walls, revealed themselves to be the candles that cluttered the living room and the couples evaporated with the green mist. The table you had both sat at, turned back to the coffee table but the empty plates remained. The elaborate statues that surrounded the room turned into the furniture you knew well, and then the live band faded away to reveal Steve’s record player indeed playing a 45 of Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley.

When the room finished revealing its true appearance to you, you laid your head back on Loki’s chest and mumbled that now it was perfect. He smiled to himself, thinking about how without a doubt in his mind, Valentine’s Day is his absolute favorite holiday on Midgard. He now couldn’t believe this reality was real. If he wasn’t holding you, he’d pinch himself. You were here, with him, in his arms, dancing in the middle of the living room on this godforsaken planet.

“(y/n)?” he whispered softly as the song was coming to an end.

“Mhmm?” You responded, your eyes closed, really just basking in the feeling of being so close to him and the smell of his cologne.

“Will be mine?” He asks carefully, remembering the phrase from Captain Roger’s advice. That phrase apparently being very important if today went well and he wanted to ask you to “go steady.” You chuckled softly, hearing Steve’s influence in the phrase.

“I would love to,” you say with a shy smile looking back up to him. He beams, incredibly happy you said yes. Swept up in his emotions, he swiftly leans down and presses his lips to yours capturing them in a passionate first kiss.

“Oh gross!” You hear someone exclaim, making you both pull away. It’s Tony- who was currently holding his side in pain as Pepper elbowed him in the side.

“You really had to do that?” she chastised him, rolling her eyes and giving an apologetic look to you and Loki before pushing Tony down the hallway to give you both your moment back, as sullied as it had become thanks to Tony.

“I’m so sorry,” she said embarrassed by his outburst, ushering him out as quickly as possible.

Loki turns his head back to you, immediately after they are out of view. “Where were we, darling?” He smirks, pulling you in for another kiss.

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely.  Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear.  “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel.  I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN.  They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern?  Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09.   You look like shit.  They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way.  Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy.  Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered.   Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram  you sent.  Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

[mmvalentine]

The Bargain Pt 3 | Feysand

Modern AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

The next time Feyre walked into the shop, Rhys smiled despite himself.

One of the things that he liked about his job was that you really only had to deal with one person at a time, and when that person happened to be cool, it made for a very easy day.

Feyre's first session had been a lovely afternoon. She had sat well, he was into the design the were making, and he just thought she was great to be around.

The down side, was that he really was stuck on how beautiful she was. Sure, he sometimes found his clients attractive. But usually he would focus in on the tattoo and forget what they actually looked like within the first five or ten minutes.

Feyre was different. Rhys couldn't put his finger on exactly why, but with her arm on the table palm up, he kept wanting to touch her fingers.

Maybe it was something to do with the relationship that she had hinted at, and how it instantly reminded him of the five years he spent with Aramantha. And how sure he was that no one deserved to be in a relationship like that. Maybe it was because she was so small, and imagining her in his position triggered a strange feeling in his chest, a sort of protectiveness that he didn't know he would feel for a complete stranger.

His therapist might say that he was projecting his past self onto her. His therapist might be very impressed that he had that insight.

Either way, Rhys couldn't help but grin when he came down the stairs after putting some needles in the autoclave, and there Feyre was sitting in the waiting room.

"Okay, it looks pretty good!" Rhys said to her, once he had her sitting on his bench. Feyre smiled. "Yeah, I still like it." "Well that is very lucky, because it's kind of permanent," Rhys told her. "You know I was prepared for the pain but I didn't realise how itchy it was going to get," Feyre said. "Oh yes I wasn't going to tell you because then you might not have got it," Rhys deadpanned. "The itch is worse than the pain."

Feyre laughed then, blushed a little and looked down so that a honey coloured curl fell over her face and suddenly, Rhys thought maybe he should have made her the sun instead of the moon.

"Okay so, what are we doing today?" Feyre asked. "Well," Rhys replied, "I reckon we'll get most of the shading done today. And then we'll do one more session for some finer shading and detailing." "Sounds good to me," Feyre said, and then she lay down on the bench.

Rhys worked for a few minutes in silence, and knew he shouldn't ask the question. Knew it was none of his business. Yet, in his most causal tone, he still asked.

"How's that boyfriend of yours?"

Feyre said nothing for a moment. Then, "Well, he doesn't like the tattoo." She flashed him a grin, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Rhys frowned. "Not a fan of my handiwork, huh?"

Feyre turned her eyes back to the ceiling. "He said I should have asked him first." "Why would you have to ask him when you make decisions about your own body?" Feyre rolled her eyes. "I know right?" she said, but again, a sadness tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Rhys was just wondering if he should voice concern, or change the subject, when Feyre took a deep breath, plastered a smile over her face and said, "Anyway, how's the painting going?"

Okay, so she didn't want to talk about it.

"It's not," Rhys admitted. "I've changed nothing at all since I last saw you." "Why not?" Feyre asked. "I don't know, I'm always so busy drawing for tattoos that I don't really get time to just sit and make things for myself." "I think you have time for what you make time for," Feyre said. "I can't argue with that," Rhys responded.

"What about you," he asked, turning her arm slightly, Feyre winced as he moved into the soft skin near her elbow crease. "Sorry," he said. "Keep talking, it helps to focus your mind on other things."

"I'm always painting," Feyre said. "It's my happy place." "What have you been working on?"" Rhys asked her. "Ummmm," Feyre reached out with her free hand and grabbed her phone. She showed him some pictures of her most recent works in progress, and Rhys paused his machine and stared.

"Wait, this is you?" he asked in astonishment. "I follow you on instragram!" Feyre blinked. "You do? I don't have that many followers, how did I not notice my favourite tattoo artist is following me?" Rhys laughed, and resumed shading. "I have a personal account as well as a professional account. That's so cool, I love your work."

"Wow," Feyre said. "Well that is... that is kind of a trip." Rhys laughed. "I love your colours," he said. "I work mostly in black and grey, so I really love what you do." Feyre shook her head. "People pay you to have your art permanently etched into their skin," she said. "You have thousands of followers and a three month waiting list. I think you win."

Rhys just laughed. "Well, I'll be your biggest fan," he said. "So, what have you got in the pipelines?"

Feyre put her phone away and settled back. "Let's see," she said. "I'm working on something seaside themed at the moment." "I knew it," Rhys said. "I should have drawn you sunshine." "No!" Feyre said quickly. "I love the design you made me. The beach and the sun are great and I'm always thinking about traveling. But the night time is beautiful wherever you are."

Rhys smiled down at the spot he was working on. "It's what I drew when I thought of you, after meeting you that first day," he said. "Okay tell me more about this seaside painting."

"Well, I'm trying a new thing where I really build up the paint and get into the textures and scuptural qualities of it," Feyre said. "Acrylic or oil?" Rhys asked. "I wanted to do oil," Feyre said, "it'd stand up better I think. But if I'm going to be lathering it on, acrylic is just so much cheaper. Plus can you imagine how long the oils would take to dry if I layered them?" "Very true," Rhys conceded. "You can have some of my old paints if you like, I never use them anyway."

But Feyre shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm not giving you an excuse not to paint."

Rhys laughed at this. "Fine, fine," he said. "Well I look forward to seeing what you make. Maybe one day you'll be the one designing me a tattoo."

As it had last time, the session flew by. For Rhys, anyway, who was not on the pointy end of the machines. They got through more than he expected, and then suddenly, he was wrapping her up and she was counting cash onto his bench.

"Alright," he said. "You know the drill. Hot shower. Rewrap before bed. Twice daily shower and salve for the rest of the week." Feyre nodded. "I've still got the flyer," she said. "Good. And I'll see you in a month for one last session."

Feyre shrugged her coat on, gingerly over her arm, and gave Rhys a smile so soft it broke his heart a little.

"I almost don't want it to end," she said. "You want me to keep hurting you!?" Rhys joked. Feyre smiled. "Well no I guess I won't miss that part," she said.

And then she waved at him before walking out the door, and Rhys was left to wonder what, if not the tattooing part, she would miss.

****

Oh yes we are slowly introducing the fluff times!

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace

[mellowyandere]

SCP Academia Eraserhead Part 2

Reader: F

Characters: Aizawa Shouta (main); Kurogiri

Summary: After struggling to find his way out with Dr. L/N, Eraserhead is offered some help. (This turned into a lot more exposition than expected. Part 3 will get steamy though I promise! I’m just a hoe for setting the stage.)

Length: 1442 words

Warning: Yandere-themes.

He had been running for a while now. Hallways and corridors bleeding into one another in a way that turned his head upside down. He hadn’t had to open any doors so far, and a strange absence of security set off little alarms in the back of his head.

Left…no right? He snarled in frustration. Curse this stupid foundation. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy but this was simply ridiculous. He peered down at your unconscious form, nestled protectively against his chest in a layer of his tendrils. So small and weak... he had to keep pushing forwards.

He had been forced to kill a couple of SCP’s along the way, not all being as sentient and rational as himself. Their desire to kill you forfeiting their rights to life.

Shit. Another dead end.

Something cleared their throat behind him, causing him to spin on his heel. His tendrils flared out ready to cut down whatever it was. To his surprise there stood what appeared to be a man made of mist, wearing human clothing. His sharp attire strongly contrasted his own, which consisted of an orange jumpsuit, the top half having been torn to shreds when he unleashed his tendrils, and a pair of standard issued boots.

“Move out the way. Don’t make me hurt you.” He didn’t have time for this, who knew when security would appear to regain control of the breach.

The mist man raised his hands to show his non-hostility. “You look a bit lost… would you like some help leaving this place?”

Eraserhead narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why would you help me?”

“Don’t you find it odd..” Ah great this might take a minute. If he wasn’t blocking off the hallway Eraserhead would have left by now, but the man in front of him didn’t look like someone he could simply side step.

“Beings such as ourselves don’t belong here. By all means humans are nothing more than fodder in comparison. And yet they contain us? They’re witty creatures with dangerous minds, it’s what gotten them this far. But so are we. This containment breach was no accident, I’m sure you’ve already noticed almost every enclosure open, save for the truly unhinged ones. And a complete lack of guards to corral you back to your prison. No, there are higher powers at play. But now isn’t the time to delve into that, so I’ll ask again… would you like some help leaving this place?”

The mist man finished his little speech and opened his arms, inviting Eraserhead forward.

“What’s the catch?” Eraserhead knew better. Nothing in this world was done from the kindness of one’s heart. Well, except for you. You were the only real kindness he had ever known.

The mist man chuckled. “I see you are a man of caution. Yes this exchange is not for free. We’ll be keeping tabs on you. Your intelligence and abilities make you a very strong creature indeed. One day we’ll need you to help free our kind from the shackles of humanity.”

Lowering his arms the man took on a more sinister aura. “Let it be known though, I don’t need your consent to teleport you. I’d choose my offer. After all that human in your arms looks so frail, she might not make it out here alive if you keep at it.”

Shit. This bastard wasn’t leaving him with much choice.. should he fight his way out? He wasn’t exactly sure what his opponents abilities were besides teleportation. Even if he erased them, can you punch a man made of mist? His clothes clung to him, but who knew his real body composition.

No. This man was too dangerous, and his threat towards your well-being still hung heavily in the air. “Alright. Deal.”

The mist mans nodded with a hum, satisfied with his answer. “Start with continent, State or province, then major nearby city. Small nearby towns if applicable.”

Eraserhead listed off what was asked of him. His goal was to bring you to his old self-isolation home. He used to live amongst humans with little to no problems. His larger than normal stature at 6’10” raised a few eyebrows but nothing too serious. He kept the dark markings along his torso covered, and a scarf helped to hide his deathly white complexion. As for the eyes, he always wore sunglasses.

His issue had arisen with the month of his “birth”. For as long as he could remember, during the month humans called November, he went absolutely feral. Losing all control over his himself he’d slaughter anything that crossed his path. He’d make sure to isolate before November came along, and for the most part it worked. He had lived many centuries alongside humans with only the occasional slip up.

Five years ago he slipped up. And the SCP foundation had been all over him ever since.

“I can’t get you to any of the nearby towns, but I can get you to the city,” the mist man stated. “Step forward, I’ll take you there now.”

With that the man began to spread out the mist that defined his body, pooling out until he filled the entirety of the corridor. Eraserhead stepped forward into the blackish purple abyss, his vision going dark. Squinting he tried to peer through the pitch black that surrounded him, until finally he could see again. Stars lit up the night sky above him, and the sound of cars echoed down far below. Stepping onto concrete he moved out of the portal. This creature had quite a powerful ability. 

“What you do from here is up to you. We’ll give you some time to adjust and then we’ll contact you. Do not think that you can hide from us.” With that the mist vanished and Eraserhead was left alone atop a tall building with you in his arms.

It would be about a half a day of running to get you home from here. Meaning it would be wise to stock up on supplies now. That way he wouldn’t have any reason to leave you alone for the next week or two as you adjusted to your new home. The tall creature checked you over, making sure you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon before leaving you on the rooftop. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but he’d move fast.

Jumping from building to building he made quick work of locating and snagging some clothes from a local donation box in order to change out of the tattered orange jumpsuit. One extra-large black long sleeve shirt and accompanying extra-large pair of blacks pants. Grabbing a few bags that had also been inside, he headed for the nearest chain supermarket. He’d stock up on essentials like food and nest making materials, as well as daintier things that you might like such as feminine soaps and fluffy stuffed animals.

Due to the limitations in his interactions with you he didn’t really know what you’d want, but he had the rest of your time together to learn.

He was going to prove to you that he was the best mate you could ever dream of having. No one else would ever be good enough for you. And no one else would ever be good enough for him with you now in his life. He had never encountered a human like you before, and he’d be damned if anyone ever dared try to take you away or hurt you.

Making quick work of the supermarket he dashed out as the alarms rang. It hardly mattered though, he wouldn’t be coming back to this city. He had enough money stashed away that he’d be able to buy what he needed from small towns as to not draw attention to himself. Despite what the mist man had said about a new world order, he didn’t want to chance the foundation getting back on its feet and finding him.

Quickly climbing the building he left you on he was relieved to see your small form still sound asleep on the cold concrete. He wrapped his tendrils around his new stash of goods and scooped you up in his arms yet again, taking a moment to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck and deeply inhaling your scent.

Even if he had to give up part of his freedom to get here, holding you in his arms had all been worth it. Now all he had to do was get you home, and then he’d make sure to repay every gesture of kindness you had ever shown him tenfold. His precious cute little human.

[quirklessidiot]

Title: filthy rich [2/3]  Pairing: millionare!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au] Genre: mild romance themes, major angst ahead, a bit of mystery, mafia!au-ish

Synopsis: He was perfect, maybe too damn perfect.

Warnings: mild sexual content, yandere themes, toxic relationships, violence, shady business, class differences, mentions of rape, and sakusa being a manipulative bastard [this fic does not in any way glorify these types of relationships!!!] Notes: Happy 605 followers guys! Decided to change this into a three part fic since it would be too damn long....I know this is a long overdue chapter hnnng i fucking hate college i cant wait to see sakusa in the new season, how was it guys? I was absolutely thrown off by akaashi even if he only had like a minute or so screentime hnnng...

previous ;; next || series masterlist || taglist 

Sakusa Kiyoomi reminded you of an onion.

Over the past three years of going out with him, you seem to find a new layer to him. No longer was he the asshole from that day, he was the sweetest boyfriend, hands down. You were both a bit awkward in terms of affection since you two were treading on unfamiliar territory (much to your surprise, a man like Sakusa Kiyoomi has never been seriously intimate with anyone) but like every other couple out there, you surpassed it. You were now in the receiving end of his soft smiles, warm gaze, and affection.

Although you had your worries like your residency and his company growing bigger and bigger by the day, you started to wonder if you’d last long but the man casted your doubts aside and continued to be faithful to you and everyday you seem to fall deeper and deeper in the rabbit hole.

“...and for the last time, stop buying me expensive things and offering to pay my student loans.” you frowned, stirring the Butajiru for your boyfriend who was coming by today for dinner. Out of spite, early on in the relationship, you had to learn how to cook since Sakusa demanded you to when he learned that you lived a lot on canned foods and unhealthy take-outs. Much to your despise, he even volunteers to pay for your weekly groceries and even got you a ‘for sale’ stove that he apparently can’t return because he misplaced the receipt.

“I don’t get it, don’t partners like it when they’re given gifts all the time?” his brows are upturned, making you scoff. “From past experiences-”

“Are you sure that those weren’t sugar babies?” you cut him off, pointing the wooden spoon on your hand at him, “Because from your description you sound like a sugar daddy.”

“Hey.” He grumbled, walking up to you from behind to envelope you on a hug, “I’m not old enough to be a sugar daddy.”

You shut the stove off and turn to him, placing a brief kiss on the jaw, “You yell at teenagers and complain when it’s too noisy. I think you qualify for a senior discount and a sugar daddy title.” You joked, escaping his grip to grab some bowls so you both could start eating.

“You’re only four years younger than me.”

“Mhm.” You hummed, sticking your tongue out, “Also, aren’t you supposed to be at a party tonight?”

“You weren’t there.” 

“Aren’t you required to go?” You frowned, placing the bowl in front of him, “You know I’m not a big fan of those things and you can’t keep handing it over to Komori-san…”

“And you know I hate it when you aren’t there.” He softly repeated.

You roll your eyes and place your own bowl as you sit in front of him, “Always the smooth talker since we met three years ago.” you shake your head.

“Three years, huh.” Sakusa paused, “Speaking of three years, I was thinking…”

You stopped eating and looked up to face him, his face dead serious, “Move in with me.” He asked out of the blue. Your eyes widen and you let down a gulp, your stomach flipping at his words.

“I-” You paused, “I...I can’t…”

Sakusa tilted his head, confused, “What?”

“Don’t get me wrong…” You started, eyes looking at your food, seemingly nervous, “I-I wanna move in with you, my lease is almost up...but…”

“But what?”

“It’s not like I wasn’t going to tell you any sooner but….but i’m moving.”

Silence filled the room that you could almost hear the pin drop, “What do you mean you’re moving?” Sakusa’s voice was void of emotion and it made you scared for the first time. The man wishes you were wrong, wishing that you were just moving someplace nearby but the next words stun him.

“I got accepted for a huge humanitarian work in Medaide.” You gulped, carefully choosing your words as you slither your hands to his, trying to distract him, “We'll be travelling around third world countries, like the dream I've always told you about. I thought, well, I didn't got accepted since I didn't hear from them but it seems like I did.”

“How many months?”

“It’s- It’s a permanent job, I go back once a year…”

Silence enveloped the room, the only thing that could be heard was the faint sound of the bustling city outside. The world seems to have stopped for Sakusa that time.

“Congrats.” Sakusa smiled softly, breaking the silence, “I’m proud of you, bunny.”

Your eyes widen as you immediately leap out the chair and run to your boyfriend’s side, “Thank god!” you exclaimed, sitting on his lap to envelope him in a hug, “I was afraid you’d break up with me.”

You stare at him in the eye, hands on his cheeks, “Now why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, we’d only be seeing each other once a year if i accepted it.” You murmured, kissing him on the temple, “Thanks for being so supportive.”

You don’t notice how his grip tightens a bit on your waist nor the darken look looming over his features, “I’d never let you go, bunny. Never.” he hummed.

You continue on with your little happy bubble with your ever supportive boyfriend, you start shopping for some goodies for your trip that you were scheduled to leave next month. You should’ve known everything was too good to be true. 

A week before your trip, the company had called you in and said that you were cut off from the team and that apparently your experience wasn’t enough.

You vividly remember Sakusa rushing to your side mid-day when he should be swamped with work, whispering soothing words in your ear. You were absolutely devastated, the dream job you wanted felt like it slipped away, it took you a month to get back to your feet and actually go out. Despite getting over it, you were discouraged, the words they said echoed on your head, thoughts on how you weren’t performing well back  in med school and how your record on residency wasn’t enough.

“Y/N?”

“Oh.” you blinked, looking up to your boyfriend, “Sorry, I spaced out.”

“It’s alright.”

It seemed like the only constant thing in your life now was Sakusa, your friends were busy and they had come and gone, you didn’t want to worry your very busy parents so you didn’t call them about your dilemma. You didn’t want to call your aunt or Hinata about it too since you know they’d tell your parents.

Kiyoomi was the only person who stayed.

He was the only one you trusted.

“Is that roommate thing with you still open?” you suddenly asked, making Sakusa paused mid-movement.

“Of course it is,” He dropped the cutlery he was holding and strode to your side to caress your cheek, “It always is for you.”

“Guess I’ll be able to use my duplicate more often.”

Maybe being a humanitarian doctor wasn’t how it was going to be for you, it took another month for you to actually go and find a permanent job. Sakusa points out that you can take all the time out that you need but you don't want to lounge around and do nothing, you need a good distraction.

So you ended up working for a prestigious hospital as an ER doctor, for a moment, you forgot about Medaide with the help of your new job and your boyfriend.

You were happy.

Really happy.

The idea of staying in Tokyo didn’t actually seem like a bad idea now, you were going to bring it up to your parents and tell them that you wanted to stay here permanently with your boyfriend. They’d probably be happy, Sakusa Kiyoomi is a perfect man.

Until you come to the very sudden realization that he wasn’t.

Kiyoomi hated going out on long distance trips, he always wanted to be next to you or take you with him but this one was apparently too important to skip out so you greet him goodbye and wait for him to come home. Being the good partner you are, you decided to clean the house for your boyfriend. Kiyoomi was an incredibly clean person so you tried to keep your sloppiness to yourself when you moved in a few months ago.

Getting rid of the small dust here and there and throwing some unimportant things on the side, you prepare to throw out the collected garbage but ultimately freeze on your tracks when you find a ripped paper on the garbage dump.

Normally, you don’t do garbage dives.

Why would you?

Yet the name on top along with your boyfriend’s name caught your attention. It was Medaide’s logo, you grabbed the ripped piece of paper and started looking through the garbage dump, it did start to smell but curiosity always got the best of you.

Nervously biting your lower lip, you don’t find all the papers but you find one dated the same week you had broken the news to your boyfriend and the words, “Thank you for your donation and for sending us a group of more competent doctors for this batch.”

Your eyes narrowed as you stood there, shaking, the surge of panic and anxiety bubbling within you made the bile rose on your throat.

What was going on?

Was this really your perfect boyfriend?

Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, why would your boyfriend do that? What would he even gain? You bite on your fingernails as you walk back and forth in front of the front desk, “Y/N-san?”

You jump on the spot.

“K-Kenjiro-san.” 

“You alright there?” Shirabu Kenjiro asked, tilting his head to the side, “You’re not looking very good these days.”

“Y-Yeah…” You gulped, “J-Just thinking about some things.”

“Well, your shift is about to be over. Maybe you can go home earlier? ER’s pretty much dead right now.”  Your fellow doctor shrugged, you turned around and let out a sigh, maybe you should request to go home earlier. You needed to rest. All this thinking was getting to your head that you had almost misdiagnosed a patient this afternoon.

“Hey Kenjiro-san.” you ask your workmate, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“I have a friend.” You gulped down, “They’ve got this perfect relationship and he’s a super great guy...then-then they realize that he did something bad…”

Kenjiro looks up from his paperwork and shoots you his usual upturned brow, “Can you specify what he did?”

“He got in the way of their dreams.”

Kenjiro is silent for a moment as if he was thinking of something deep, “Well if I were that person, I’d leave him. What kind of asshat doesn’t support their partner’s dreams?” he asked, placing his hands on his hips, “Tell your friend that they deserve better and not some asshat who is holding them back.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, he had a very good point, “Yeah, that’s right.”

Kenjiro had a good point there, maybe confronting Sakusa would be a wise choice but as of right now you decided against it, you needed to gather the courage to actually talk to him about it. The thing that scared you the most was how much you loved and trusted the guy too much.

He went through such lengths to get you to stay around, who knows what else he could’ve done?

You shake your head, you were being paranoid yet at the same time you couldn’t help it. Your anxiety towards the situation wasn’t helpful at all and it was spiking up and down.

On your way home, you decided to pass by a local pharmacy because your head hadn’t been feeling very well, “Do you have any pain killers?” you weakly asked the man on the front counter, after giving you your medication, you also decided to buy some extra vitamins because you recalled almost running out of them.

“Oh, we ran out of that brand yesterday.” The pharmacist replied, scrunching his brow in wonder, “Would you like another one? It’s not a generic brand but it’s  pretty much the same.”

“Yeah, that’ll do too.” You nodded, after paying for your purchase, you headed home. Fixing up your medicine in your cabinet, you freeze mid-action when you notice how familiar the vitamin looked. Shakily raising your hand to grab your birth-control pills in the medicine cabinet, you almost topple down when you pop it open next to the vitamin you bought.

It was the same.

It was exactly the same.

Before you knew it you were vomiting in the basin, your headache was worsening and the shaking wouldn’t stop.

The idea of the perfect boyfriend was completely erased in your head.

You didn’t look well these past few days, Kiyoomi noticed it because you didn’t even dared to hide it anymore, you wanted to leave him. Not only did he get in the way of whatever you worked hard for but he was trying to get you pregnant without your consent.

You felt utterly disgusted.

You sat at the tub, completely drained from all the events that transpired this past two weeks. The three year perfect streak that he tried to maintain was reduced to nothing but shambles. You wanted to blame yourself for being too stupid and caught up in this sham, your boyfriend was messed up, you wanted to get away but how?

You inwardly sighed, you were stupid. Too stupidly in love and intoo deep the rabbit hole that you hadn't even noticed.

“Y/N?”

Your gaze snapped to find him standing there with an expensive bouquet of flowers, you try to let out a weak smile, “Hey.”

“You’re not looking well.” He commented, placing the flowers on the side as he approached your naked figure on the tub, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” you nodded, “Just work.”

“I told you not to overstrain yourself.” He mumbled, bending down to your level, “You might get sick.”

You wanted to cringe away in disgust as he kissed your bare shoulders but you maintained yourself, “It’s fine.” You softly said, “I just have to do my best. I still want to try out for humanitarian work if I get a good recommendation from the hospital.”

You notice the quick shift of expression in his eyes, making you tighten your lips, so there it was.

“Again? I thought-”

“It’s my dream.” You began, trying to give him a smile, maybe, just maybe you can let him see through it, “You know how much I want this.”

“Maybe it’s not meant for you.”

“Excuse me?”

Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eyes widen at the new reaction, your smile turning to a grimace. Over the course of your relationship, you had never been this angry, “Y/N, you know that’s not-”

“Get out.” You shakily say.

“Y/N.”

“I said, Get out, Sakusa.” You yell again, eyes seeing red, the bastard had the audacity to keep pulling you back and doing these things to you. You were downright disgusted at him and everything he was doing, what more would you find? The mere fact that he destroyed your dreams and switched out your birth control had you on edge at the moment and you didn’t want to try to find out anymore, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle it.

He lets out a sigh, “You don’t have to leave the room. I’ll go sleep on the couch.”

You watch him leave and close the bathroom door yet his eyes don’t fool you anymore. 

You didn’t feel safe here.

You needed to get out.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is no fool towards your shift of attitude, he knows something is up when you snap at him when you were usually the calmer one (yes, you may be a bundle of energy and spitfire but you were relatively calm in the most part) so he calls the head of your hospital and sits him down, the head is shaking and on his knees, begging him to spare his life and his job for he did not know that you were overworked at all in your department.

“...I watch over her, sir…” the chief shakily exclaimed, “I always do…”

“So, you’re telling me… that my Y/N is a liar?”

The chief immediately freezes up on the spot, “Good lord, of course not! Doctor Y/N would never-”

“What would it be?”

“E-excuse me?”

“Your hands or your life?”

The man immediately cries out, begging him for mercy for he was innocent but Sakusa didn’t care. 

He didn’t care at all.

Yes, Sakusa Kiyoomi would do anything for you. If someone were to make you sad, tired, weary, or any negative emotion, he’d strike them down, just like how he paid your friends to stay away, just like how he had subtly shifted your parents work conditions that prevented them from returning to you.

You were his and his only.

No one could get in your ways.

“My name is Doctor Sato, I’ll be your new chief...”

You stare at the new head of the hospital blankly, apparently the previous chief, Doctor Yamomoto, had to retire due to some matters with his family. It was a shame, you really liked him since he was awfully nice to you and everyone in the ward, “...L/N-san?” the older man calls out as soon as the meeting was over.

Your gaze snapped towards him as he tilted his head slightly, you’re completely bewildered by the sudden attention from your new boss, “Are your working conditions alright?”

“Yes, chief.” 

“If you have any problem, “ his tight lip turns into a big smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, “Please don’t hesitate to ask.”

You blink at his uncharacteristic request and immediately move back to get away from his grasp, a rather uncomfortable smile made its way to your lips as you nodded, “I’ll take note of that, Chief.” 

Thankfully nothing odd happened anymore after the day ended and as you patched up your things, getting ready to go home, you find your one and only boyfriend standing there with another bouquet of flowers in his hands. The sense of familiar dread sinked in once again.

How would you end this all?

The perfect man was a liar and he got in the way but why couldn’t you end things with him quickly? Why couldn’t you cut him off? You were so angry at him yet at the same time you were so lost, where did it go wrong?

“Y/N…” He greets, “How was work?”

“It was fine.” You quietly replied, turning your gaze  at the expensive bouquet on his hands once again. Ever since you guys fought, he had been buying you flowers and expensive things but you remained the same, you just didn’t know how to act anymore around him.

“How was your new chief?”

You immediately tense up, as far as you recalled you had only met the chief today and no one knew about this outside the hospital. How the hell did this bastard know?

Sakusa notices you’ve gone too quiet, “Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Word travels fast, huh?” you blinked, regaining your composure quickly, something wasn’t right now, you knew that something went deeper than that little Medaide charade he did and switching your pills to get you pregnant, “He’s alright and please stop buying me stuff, didn’t I tell you that we were fine already?”

“Y/N-”

You sighed and leaned in closer, pulling down his mask so that you could give him a peck on his lips. Inside, you felt disgusted but this was the only way now, “Stop acting all cringey and lovey-dovey. I forgive you. Let’s not fight again.” You consoled the tall man.

You notice how soft his eyes became.

Yes, two can play a game. 

From stopping you from moving to trying to get you pregnant, it was those things that made you come towards a conclusion that Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t wanted you to leave his side. The man probably wouldn’t stop at anything, if he was willing to go to such lengths, what more could he do? You let out a tight smile as your boyfriend kisses your temple.

You needed to find a way and quick because the Sakusa Kiyoomi you thought you knew for the past three years was nothing like the Sakusa Kiyoomi in front of you.

taglist [send me an ask if you want to be tagged for the last chapter and as always if i forget to tag, just send me an ask]

@maraudusk ;; @iamnotobsessed  ;;  @ssuna ;; @weebartistinc ;; @aomineavenue ;; @tsukkismamagucci ;; @onlyshinji ;; @ichiraku-verse ;; @watevermelon ;; @victoriasee ;;  @caramelcandescence ;; @n-nara ;; @bloody-bella ;; @ricefarmerkita ;; @paripedia ;; @srhlsx ;; @craftyfawns ;; @kepchups ;; @soggycardboardd​ ;;  @vinnieluv​ ;; @dinablossom​

@kn0xiousnight  @newfriendjen

[can’t tag you guys uwu just make sure ur tags are open :<]

[santigarcia]

Knockout Blues

a 1940s mob au blue jones x f!reader fic~ 

word count: 8k

rating: m/e - for smut, canon typical violence for sucker punch and mob movies, some slight non con, themes of a abuse and a major character death - pls only read if you are 18+!

summary: You’re hired by the mob to sing at a nightclub, and you fall in love with the devilishly handsome nightclub host~

a/n: this one has been in my drafts for a long time, i’ve worked so hard on it!! i hope you all enjoy it!! thank you to @sergeantkane​ for this header!!! 

The nightclub Knockout Blues is lively tonight. You walk inside arm in arm with your boyfriend Sam Miller. You’re greeted with the smell of smoke and alcohol and strong perfume. There’s a bar along the back wall. The floor is full of round tables with chairs. The stage is on the far right of the entrance. Waitresses are buzzing about, men in fine suits sit at tables as they drink. Scantily clad women dance on the stage, fringe dangling from their breasts and hips, as large feather fans tease the audience.

It was much quieter when you came in earlier this week to audition.

You’re a singer, and the owner of this club expressed interest in hiring you.

You know this club is a front for the mob. Your boyfriend Sam is one of them. You don’t know what it is that he does, but it scares you. You want to end things with him, but you’re too scared to leave. You aren’t sure what would happen to you if you were left to fend for yourself.

You can’t worry about that tonight though. Tonight is your first show.

You part ways with Sam to head backstage. He gives you a sloppy kiss and a smack to your ass on his way to the bar. A nearby patron smirks at you. You can only scoff. Your dreams of being a famous singer will not be ruined. You are determined. You might have to suffer some bad gigs before you’re able to move up the chain.

Tiptoeing backstage, you see a whole other world. Costumes, make-up, wigs, props of all kinds are scattered about. Performers are getting ready, women powdering their noses. You can faintly hear the cheering from the small audience, the sound is drowned out from the bustle back here.

There’s a man in a silky white coat kissing one of the dancers, his hand is grasping her ass and stroking up her thigh. You try not to stare, though you’re not exactly shocked – just intrigued. This isn’t what you were anticipating.

Wandering around like a lost child, you freeze when you see a door with your name scrawled on a piece of paper taped to it. The door is slightly ajar, and you nudge it open. You turn on the light switch revealing a small vanity with a mirror surrounded by lightbulbs. There’s a rack of clothes with a single red sparkly dress on it. There’s also a schedule taped to the mirror with your name circled on each date you’re to perform for the rest of the month.

“You have twenty minutes,” someone with a clipboard pokes in your room and tells you. You’d only just realized you didn’t close the door behind you.

You lock it, and frantically begin to undress and change into this dress. It’s a perfect fit and flattering to your figure. But it’s a little more revealing than you’d prefer.

There’s a light switch on the wall by the mirror and this turns on the bulbs, you flick it on and get one last look at yourself before you are to go on stage.

The same person with the clipboard bangs on your door and tells you to follow them. The dancers who were on stage earlier brush past you on your way up front. You stand on the side now, looking on stage.

The same man who was kissing one of the dancers is speaking, he’s making the crowd laugh. Then you hear your name from his lips. He’s announcing your performance. Nerves shoot down to your toes, and you’re not so gently nudged onto the stage. The man walks with more swagger than you’ve ever seen past you, he gives you a little wink when you make eye contact. His slicked-back black hair, thin mustache and gorgeous smile have you dizzy for a moment before you realize there’s an audience staring at you.

Some men whistle as you step forward to the microphone. When you nod the band begins to play, and you begin to sing.

The spotlight on you is just a little too bright for you to see out in the audience, you can only make out shapes of patrons at tables. There’s a thick layer of smoke high in the air also hindering your view.

You let your voice carry and it’s a release. Release from the stressors and fears. All apprehensions about taking this job are forgotten in this moment.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

The setlist you’ve been given is short, with a promise of more songs the longer you’re here. You are content with this – a couple songs for your first night at this club isn’t bad at all. In fact, you’re quite proud.

There’s a spring in your step when you head back to your dressing room. You’re all smiles, proud of a good performance. The bustle backstage doesn’t bother you as you breeze into your room.

It’s there you’re met with a shock. The man from before, with the thin mustache and white silk coat. He’s sitting in the chair in front of the vanity, smoothing his eyebrow down as he looks in the mirror. He makes eye contact with you in the reflection. His eyes are dark, but then a genuine kind smile flashes across his face.

“Hey, sugar. That was a hell of a show!” He stands, spinning to face you. He straightens his tie and practically glides over to you. He’s quick to take your hand in his and he plants a kiss to the back of your hand. His eyes flick up to yours, and he grins devilishly at the shy look in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you manage to get out.

“I’m Blue. Blue Jones.”

“You’re the owner?” The double meaning of the word owner is not lost on him, but he shakes his head no with a smile.

“No, no, that’s not me. Demetrius Fontana is the owner, I’m what you’d call a ‘figurehead.’ They call me ‘Blue’ because I’m the host of the show here at Knockout Blues,” he said as if he’s said this speech a thousand times.

“Have you met him? Mr. Fontana?”

“Boss? Course I have. He’s the one who hired me, sugar. He hired you too.”

“Did he?” You don’t remember meeting any mob bosses at your audition.

“Tall guy? Quiet? Scar under his eye? He wouldn’t have spoken. Only smoked a cigar at one of the tables.”

You nod, you remember seeing this man. It fills you with a nauseous feeling.

“Don’t worry,” Blue smiles, reaching to touch your arm, seeing your obvious discomfort. “He must have liked ya or else he wouldn’t’ have hired you.”

You don’t know if that’s better or worse. Somehow you get the feeling it’s too late. You can’t back out now. Dating Sam is one thing, you don’t want to anymore. But this? One of New York’s most powerful and feared men knows your name.

“Should I be scared?” you whisper. You don’t know why you’re asking him this, but he seems to know all the ins and outs of this place.

“Nah. Just don’t piss ‘em off,” he winks. “You’ll probably owe him a favor though.”

“Favor?”

“Yeah. A favor.” He says it so casually, but you don’t like the sound of it. “You didn’t think you got this job just because of your talent, did you? I mean you are damn good and gorgeous. But sugar, when these people do something for you, they expect a little something back.”

If you weren’t filled with dread already, now you really feel sick. You can only imagine what your favor would be.

“So, do I need to take you home or call you a cab?” Blue keeps on talking, as if nothing he’s said is worth fearing.

“Oh, my boyfriend is going to take me home.”

Blue nods, “well it was nice to meet you sugar. I look forward to working with you.” Another little wink.

A tune is on his lips, he whistles as he leaves your dressing room. Then he’s gone.

It’s not long before Sam comes to pick you up. You’ve had time to change into your regular clothes. He comes in drunk and lipstick smudged on his mouth and shirt collar. Another woman’s perfume is heavy in the air.

“Did you even see my show?” you ask.

He must think about it as if he can’t remember. He pushes you out the door and into the hallway. You hit the wall with a grunt. Down the hallway you see Blue with another dancer. The last one was a red head; this one was brunette. But he stops kissing her when he hears you.

“There a problem?” he calls down to you and Sam. The woman is kissing his neck while his hands rub up and down her back. His eyes are checking to see you’re ok.

“No,” Sam snarls, angry that Blue is interfering. “Come on,” he yanks your arm and pulls you down the hall past Blue and the brunette dancer. She’s still kissing his neck, and her knee is sliding up Blue’s inner thigh. Blue looks at you over this girl and gives you yet another wink.

It makes your face warm. His charm and charisma are enough that you’re already looking forward to coming in again despite any apprehensions you might have about favors from the mob.

When Sam fucks you that night, you wish it were Blue. You think about those hands and his eyes. Maybe it’s a foolish fantasy. But fantasy or not – you’re already developing a very real crush on Blue Jones of Knockout Blues.

Weeks pass and your crush on Blue is growing. It’s become quite the infatuation. He’s always pleasant when he sees you, and his touch gives you a thrill. Maybe it’s the idea that you shouldn’t, or that he’s nicer to you than your actual boyfriend.

So, your Blue crush keeps you eager to come back. You come early to the shows now to catch him sing. He’s always the opening act.

And the more time you spend at the club, the less scary it feels.

You’ve even met the…owner. Briefly. He was at the bar one evening. You’d just finished a performance and you stuck around to get a drink. He gave you a nod and bought your drink before he left. You’ll take that as a compliment.

You spend more time here at the club than you thought. Your evenings are busy with performances, but even after you’re done you hang around. In the afternoons you stop by for the occasional rehearsal.

You’re always on the look out for Blue, and he’s always around. Always with perfect hair and an easy smile. You’ve become friends of sorts, he’s always friendly. But you can’t help but want more. You can only assume he doesn’t flirt with you because of who your boyfriend is, which makes you want to break things off with him even more.

At least you have some interactions with Blue.

Tonight, he pops into your dressing room while you’re finishing your makeup.

“You ready for tonight?” He asks picking up your tube of lipstick. He pops the cap and rotates the stick in and out.

“Blue,” you smile at him. “I need that.”

“May I?” he grins.

“Okay,” you shrug casually, but inside your heart is pounding.

With his thumb and forefinger pressing on your jaw, he tilts your head back and opens your mouth in one movement. With his other hand, he sweeps the red lipstick across your lips. Then he reaches in his silk coat and pulls out a handkerchief. He cleans the residue of the lipstick from the corners of your mouth. He folds the small piece of fabric and tucks it back in his pocket.

“It’ll stain!” You gasp, still flustered from how close he was to you just moments ago.

“It’s a souvenir,” he clicks his tongue with a wink. He stops then and his eyes linger on your lips.

“What is it?” you turn with a furrowed brow to look in the mirror.

“I’d love to kiss those lips sugar.” He stays, standing behind you. He’s looking at your lips now in the mirror, then he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I know you want me too.”

“Blue, I can’t!” You stand up to move away from him. “Sam…”

“What about him? He doesn’t treat you right. Let me take care of you.”

“I can’t. He- won’t let me.”

“Let you?”

“I have to finish getting ready Blue. Did you need something?” You sniffle, trying not to smudge your fresh makeup.

“I wanted to ask you; would you sing a duet with me tonight? I know we haven’t practiced but I’d love to sing with you sugar. I’ll pick a song you know.”

“Really?” you look at him, your sad eyes turning bright. “I’d love to!”

“I’ll see you on stage in a few then?” His hand cups your elbow gently, his fingers leaving a heat on your skin.

Then quick as a wink, he’s out of the room whistling cheerfully. He’s always in a good mood, and it’s infectious.

Can this be happening? Are you about to sing with him? You fell deeper in love when you heard him sing. Now to be on stage with him? Seeing his stage presence up close? Your tongue feels numb.

Buzzing, you finish getting ready and dart down the hall to wait your turn. When Blue announces your name, it feels more personal this time. He’s looking right at you when he says it. The way he’s looking at you right now sends a shiver down your spine, it’s carnal.

He offers his hand, and you walk on stage happily, your game face on. Your eyes and small are bright, and the spectators cheer when they see you, you’re a new favorite.

The song begins, and thankfully it is one you know well. You’ve not even practiced with him, but the rawness that comes from it works. He holds you close and twirls you around. It’s an intimate dance, your bodies and voices intertwine as if you’d be lovers for years.

His smile is devilish, and he holds you so close you shiver. There’s a heat of excitement blooming between your legs, especially when his hand rounds your ass for a squeeze.

The song ends too quickly for your liking – but before you can even turn to exit the stage, Blue pulls you to him. He dips you down low and plants a searing kiss on your lips. His tongue delves between your lips, and his mustache tickles your upper lip. Those watching seem to cheer even louder, and when he straightens you back upright, you feel dizzy. The lights and sounds are all a blur. You can only see Blue and that wicked grin.

He lingers on stage to announce the next part of the show, while you float back to your room. You don’t even remember walking in there. Your heart feels like it could pound right out of your chest. You dance, you dance in circles around the room. You wish you could bottle up this happiness.

A knock on the door pulls you from your daydream, and with a grin you turn. Expecting to see Blue. Only you don’t see Blue – it’s your boyfriend Sam. You can smell the alcohol on him from where you stand.

“Sam, I-“

“Nice show tonight. You been practicing that?”

“No. Sam-“ he takes a step closer to you and you back away, there’s an anger in his eyes. The anger burns, and with a backhanded swing his hand hits your cheek. The skin stings and you feel blood trickle down, a small cut left behind from his ring.

He leans back to punch you this time, but you duck out of the way. His fist crashes into the mirror, breaking it, the shards fall with a loud crash.

The sound brings unwanted attention, and in moments you see Blue. Fontana is behind him. When Sam sees who is standing in the doorway, he backs off. He ducks out of the room without an apology, but you’re glad he’s gone.

Blue is at your side in an instant. Fontana is quiet, he gives you another nod when he sees Blue is with you.

“Are you alright?” Blue looks over your face, shushing you when you fall into his arms.

“Get me out of here,” you sob into his shoulder.

Blue wraps his arms around you, shielding you from prying eyes as you exit the backstage door. You leave in such a hurry that you forget your change of clothes. There’s a chill in the alley, and your sparkly red show dress does nothing to keep you warm. Blue shrugs his silk coat and wraps it around your shoulders.

“Come on, sugar. I know where we can go.”

You don’t walk far before you’re at the large hotel near the nightclub. You never even dreamed of staying here it’s too expensive. But Blue walks right in. Several people say hi to him, and it’s the first time you realize how popular his performances are – and how many connections to the mob there are.

He doesn’t even stop at the front desk; he guides you over to an elevator and presses a button. He presses the button to the top floor as if it’s nothing, but he’s puffing out his chest a little – he’s proud.

“The top floor?”

“Fontana suggested it,” Blue shrugs.

“What kind of favor did you do to get this?” you ask with wide eyes.

“I hope you’re not afraid of me,” he looks at you, his eyes softening. You know he must have done something big to get a suite on the top floor, but you do trust him.

“I’m not,” you tell him.

“Good,” he reaches for your hand and squeezes. “This life isn’t what you think it is.” He sounds almost sad, and it tugs at your heart. “I don’t want you to see me as someone in the business.”

You shake your head. No, of course you don’t. He’s been nothing but kind to you and honest.

The elevator bell dings finally, and his hand is on your lower back guiding you to his room. He fishes for his keys in his pockets and smiles at you when he slides the key into the lock.

You gasp when you step inside the room. It’s big and beautiful. So much space! It’s bigger than your apartment.

“Feel free to make yourself at home,” he says warmly.

“You’re not staying?”

“I thought you would want to be alone,” he offers, taking a step towards you.  

“I want you to stay.”

Trembling, you reach for his hand guiding his warm palm to rest on your cheek. His touch is soft, a whisper over the growing bruise on your face. Tears well up in your eyes, the gravity of the situation finally catching up with you.

“I won’t let him hurt you again,” he says smoothing his thumb over the bruise.

Feeling bold, you place your hand on his chest. His eyes flick down and he reaches up to hold your hand.

“What is it sugar?”

“I want you Blue, I need you.”

His eyebrow raises in question, you know what he’s asking. If you do this if you fall into bed with him there’s no going back. An affair of this magnitude will have consequences. But you’re ready to be rid of Sam, you want Blue.

When you close the gap further and trace your knee up his thigh, Blue pulls you in for a searing kiss. The flames lick at your body, his tongue a fierce passionate intrusion into your mouth. His hands are already working on the zipper of your dress, and he hums in delight when he feels the bare skin of your back.

He pushes your dress down then, exposing your breasts to him. You’re truly a sight. He pulls you back in for a kiss and his hand cradles the back of your head – leaning you down on the bed. Fingers dance along your body, his thumbs brush over your nipples as they pass by. He’s quick to slide off the rest of your undergarments, now leaving you naked in front of him.

He’s quick to undress himself, and you gawk as each part of his suit drops to the floor. His cock is aching with need, and he pumps himself lazily – his pinky ring catches the light, and you groan.

Blue crawls over you, kissing his way up to your mouth. His hands are everywhere. One hand cups a breast, the other teases your slick folds. His mouth is all over your neck and jaw and face. He nibbles your ear. His fingers bring you to pleasure embarrassingly quick.

“Sugar,” he bites your neck, “you did need me, didn’t you?” he purrs.

When he finally pushes himself inside after all the teasing, he whines in your ear.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck!”

Your hands slip into his perfectly gelled hair and pull. You kiss at his neck. He growls and thrusts harshly. His rich cologne is in your nose, mixed with a hint of smoke and sweat. His body moves on top of yours in strong fluid motions. You’re coming again quickly, just as he spills into you.

You groan together, the sweet music of you pleasure intertwining.

Blue makes love to you all night. Heated and rough. Slow and sweet. Passionate and electrifying.

You’re overly sensitive and have tear stained cheeks before the night is over.

It’s close to 5 am when you’re finally still and tangled in the sheets with your new lover.

“I want to run away with you.” You tell him. Your fingers tracing shapes on his chest while he holds you.

“I’d love that too sugar. But we can’t.”

“Why couldn’t we though?” you sit up. “Why couldn’t we just run away right now?”

“Too many obligations,” he smooths his hair back. “You know it and I know it.

“What? As a performer?”

“I can at least help you get away from Sam.”

You flop back down on the bed. You know he’s right. You can’t just leave, even though it’s what you want. But you’d never be able to rest, you know they have people everywhere who would find you.

So, you begin to plan. It won’t be easy to end things with Sam. It makes you nervous, and after such a good night with Blue, you can hardly stand to think about it. You fall asleep in Blue’s arms making plans for your future together.

When you wake, you’re alone.

The curtains are closed but you can see the sunlight trying to peek in. The clock on the wall tells you it’s close to noon. With a groan you sit up and stretch. There’s a note on the bed where Blue slept. The ink is dark blue and in perfect smooth cursive.

‘Meet me tonight, sugar. After your show. xx Blue.’

You hold the note to your chest and sigh happily. You collect your things to get dressed, but you pause when you see the giant bathtub in the bathroom. You draw yourself a bath and sink into the tub. You’re sore from last night, not just sex with Blue – but Sam hurting you. But you try not to think about that part.

Hunger and the water cooling pull you from the bath. You take a good long look at yourself in the mirror. There are hickeys and slight scrapes from a certain mustache all over your skin. But Blue was careful to only mark you up in places that would be hidden by your dress. Your bruise and slight cut on your cheek are healing, but still hurt. They can be covered with makeup, but your face is still a little swollen.

Tears well up in your eyes, you try to think about Blue’s tender touch instead.

You get ready as best you can, realizing you need to go back to the club to get your clothes. You’re sure it would be alright if you grabbed a meal then too.

It seems so different now to go down the elevator alone, and to walk alone in the daylight to the club. You make your way in the alley to the backstage doors. Two stagehands are having a smoke break, and the door is propped open. They don’t seem to notice or care that you trot up the stairs and disappear inside.

Returning to your dressing room after last night sends a sick feeling to your stomach. All your make-up is on the floor. The mirror is broken. It’s a complete mess. But you wipe your tears away and change out of your dress into your regular clothes from the night before. Carefully, you pick up the make-up from among the glass.

That’s when you hear two voices. They’re hushed, speaking right outside in the hallway. One of them is Sam. You feel sick. You quiet yourself so he won’t know you’re in here.

The other voice you don’t recognize. But what he says scares you.

“You have to do it tonight Miller. You have to kill him.”

“I know,” Sam hisses back. “I fuckin’ know.”

You can’t catch anymore because their voices fade as they walk down the hall farther from your room. You sigh to yourself, but bristle at the thought of who they are planning to kill. You need to tell Blue.

You forget to stop by the bar to get food, instead you ask around if Blue is in the building. No one has seen him, and you take no comfort in that. The thought of Sam seeing you here fills you with dread, so you make a hasty exit back to your apartment.

You’ll go back to the club early tonight. Warning Blue is all that matters. Even the promise of another night tangled in the sheets is pushed from your mind from the fear.

But you’re exhausted. Your entire night last night was full of emotions and physical moments. Even if your night had not been filled with Blue, you wonder if you would have slept after such a fight in the dressing room.

You sit down on your bed for a moment, and the next thing you know, you wake with a gasp.

It’s after dark.

Panicking, you grab your purse sprinting out the door.

You make it to the club, but you’re late. You gasp a little louder than you intended when you see Blue is alive and well onstage.

You make your way backstage and look for him when he’s done with his act. You see him entering your dressing room before you can catch up with him. You run, scared there might be a trap waiting for him.

“Blue!” you gasp running into the room only to see him standing in front of a new mirror smoothing down his hair. The room is completely clean, it looks nicer than it was before. There’s no evidence of what happened last night.

“Yeah sugar?” he turns with a smile. “Something wrong?”

“It’s Sam,” you run to him, hugging him tight. “He’s going to kill someone. I heard him talking.”

“Where is he?” Blue looks angry. He moves like a man on a mission out of your dressing room. You follow behind him as he makes his way out onto the main floor looking for Sam.

He’s at the bar having a drink. It’s all a blur after Blue grabs Sam’s shoulder. Punches are thrown left and right. You watch in horror as Sam gets his punches in. You don’t know if he’s supposed to kill Blue, or if he’s angry Blue has taken you away from him.

A few men pull Blue and Sam apart, and Blue tells you to go.

“Go to our hotel, wait for me. It’ll be alright.” He slips the room key into your hand, and tears well up in your eyes. “Go.”

As you’re leaving, Sam breaks away and goes at Blue again. A brawl is breaking out in the club. You leave with tears pouring down your cheeks. You’re scared for Blue’s life.

For the second time today you’re alone in that hotel. The walk there is a blur as you’re crying and shaken with fear.

Your hands are trembling when you unlock the door, you can barely get the key in. Being in this room after last night has you feeling comforted and frightened all at once. There’s so much Blue in the room, it feels like him. But what if he gets hurt? What if you don’t see him ever again? About a million thoughts race through your mind for the next few hours.

You grow sick with worry.

Where is he?

It’s late into the night when you finally hear a knock on the door. You jump out of your skin. You look through the peephole and your gasp hurt your chest. Opening the door, you see Blue- standing there with his hands covered in blood.

His white silky jacket is gone, and his shirt has bloodstains on it. His hair is a mess, and blood is splattered on his face. His hands are the worst though, completely red. The blood has long dried and he seems visibly shaken.

“What happened?” you gasp pulling him in the room. “Are you hurt?”

“Your boyfriend, Sam, I-“ he looks down at his hands, “I killed him.”

All the air is knocked out of you. Sam is dead? As in? D-e-a-d? And Blue is the one that did it? What could have happened?? What are you supposed to be feeling right now?

“I’m sorry,” Blue cups your face with his bloodstained hands. You feel the sticky drying blood on your cheeks, a reminder of the life that used to flow in Sam’s veins.

“What happened?” you grab Blue’s wrists, securing his hands to your face. You want to know. You did love Sam long ago, you think. But there’s been so much fear and pain, you’ve grown to despise him. You decide his death now means your freedom, and a future with Blue. You want to know what happened, every gory detail.

So, he tells you.

Blue tells you how he was mingling in the crowd after his performance, trying to act casual. Someone threw a punch at someone, then it was a big blur. That’s when Sam made his move for Blue.

“He was after you this whole time?” you gasp. “Why?”

“Sam was a fuckin’ mole this whole time. He was rattin’ on us, giving up secrets to rival mobs.”

Your hand flies to your mouth in shock.

“Why was he after you?” your lip trembles.

“Hey, shh,” he traces his thumb over your trembling lip. “Don’t tremble, sugar. I’m safe. See?” he spins around showing you that he’s fine.

He continues his story, painting an awful picture of Sam charging for Blue. He had a knife out, ready to stab Blue.

“And he almost did, nicked the sleeve on my shoulder. But I got to him first.”

“How?”

Blue pats his breast pocket, “I keep a small knife in here, you never know.”

Your rational mind tells you this is dangerous, that you should leave. But killing Sam wasn’t murder, just self-defense.

“Then what happened?”

Blue stabbed Sam. Then the mob does what they do, swept the whole thing under the rug.

“Is this our chance? Blue are we free?”

Blue sighs heavily. He turns from you, pacing back and forth in the hotel room. Now you notice the ripped sleeve on his shoulder, and just how much blood is on his white silk suit jacket. His arms and hands are deep red. You feel a little dizzy.

“Boss gave me a bigger job, they’re proud of me.”

That’s the last thing you hear Blue say before you pass out.

When you come to, you’re lying on the bed. Strong, rich cologne wafts into your nose, and you slowly sit up to see Blue. He’s sitting next to you on the bed, wearing a white robe with black trim. His hair is wet and slicked back. His hands are squeaky clean.

“There she is,” Blue whispers and leans down to press a light kiss to your forehead. “You alright?”

You nod, feeling a little dizzy.

“You’re in shock,” he tells you standing up. “Let me draw you a bath? Would you like that sugar?”

“We’re still stuck Blue. Stuck in this life!” You feel like you’re going to be sick.

“Sugar, hey woah, deep breaths for me. I’m in good with them right now, we don’t have to worry.”

“But what if you screw something up?” you gasp at your own words. “I’m sorry.”

His jaw ticks and he looks angry, but then you see a soft smile.

“I understand, I do. But right now, there’s nothing we can do. Let me draw you a bath.”

You know he’s right, so you let him. The bathtub is huge, and the water is the perfect temperature. He sits on the edge of the tub and you let him wash the blood off your face.

“Blue?” you blink up at him. “What if you kill the boss?” You’re too scared to even say his name, as if he could hear you in this room. With the mob, who knows. There could be bugs in here.

“How would that help?” Blue crosses his arms and leans back a little.

“I don’t know,” you shrug and look down. “I just thought, you’ve killed before why not do it again.” You whisper.

“Wait, wait sugar you might be onto something.” He sits up. “If I kill him then I could take over! Damn, sugar. How would you like to be a mob boss’s wife hmm? Oh baby,” he pushes up his sleeve and sticks his hand down in the water between your legs. “I would spoil you rotten,” he grits his teeth on the last word to emphasize, all while his fingers tease your sex.  

He brings you closer to orgasm with his fingers while he fills your mind with promises of your future together.

“I’d kill for you, sugar. I’d burn the world down if I could give you what you want. Tell me, what do you want?” His fingers circle your bundle of nerves harder, and then he thrusts his fingers inside.

“You, Blue. I want you,” you moan as you reach your high. You whine, and he smirks. His eyes raking over your body in the tub.

When you’re done with your bath, Blue helps you out. He chuckles mischievously in your ear when he wraps a plush robe around your body. You surprise him then and nudge him back into the bedroom.

You untie his robe and shove him back on the bed. You shrug your robe and drop to your knees.

“Sugar- “

“Blue, let me. Let me suck the cock of the future boss.”

He lulls his head back at your words, and he groans even louder when you put your lips on him.

“The power you’d have,” you moan and kiss his thighs. “We could do anything we want,” you lick a stripe up to his tip and he jerks his hips. You mingle your praises with the actions of your mouth, teasing him.

He’s loud, desperate. The hunger for power and the hunger for his release have him writhing against your touch. He’s hungry, and he’ll take what he wants. He thrusts up into your mouth and comes with a loud moan.

When he sits up, his hair is disheveled, a wicked grin is on his face. You know the look; he’s got an idea.

“I know how I can become the boss.”

Blue is balls deep in your heat when he goes over the plan one last time. His thrusts are hard, erratic. You’ve come twice already and he’s nearing his end. Your thighs burn and your lungs struggle to catch a breath. This time it’s different, you both know.

Tonight’s the night.

Tonight, is the night Blue takes over the club and becomes the boss.

You’re nervous though. There are too many parts of this plan that could go wrong. But this is the only way that you and Blue will get your freedom – is if he’s in charge.

“No one,” he grunts, grabbing your hips, “Will hurt you again-“ He moans spilling deep inside you. Your walls flutter and you come a third time around him. The rush of knowing you’re going to be part of a murder scheme floods your veins. It feels so wrong, but Blue feels so good.

Blue lets himself collapse onto you, his mouth already seeking yours for a searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth and he moans, he twitches inside of you.

“Blue?” you purr and rake your fingers through his hair. “You getting hard again?”

“You’re all mine,” he growls and kisses all over your face and neck. “Don’t forget what I said. Be in the office right after the show ends.”

You want to stay with him, but he pulls out. There’s something on his mind. You wonder if he’s nervous about tonight.

“Stick to the plan,” he says.

The plan.

The plan is to do the show like normal. The boss will be there tonight. After the show, go in his office for a private meeting. Blue will follow behind and while he’s staring at your figure, Blue goes for the kill.

Should be simple enough right?

Wrong.

You’re trying to get dressed in the bathroom but your hands tremble. You just know you’re going to get something wrong tonight.

“I’m scared Blue,” you call to him. You’re looking at your reflection, waiting to hear his reply.

“C’mere sugar,” you hear him. He’s quick to greet you with a smile. His hands reach for your hips and he pulls down your hose. “You were right,” he growls. “I was getting hard again.” You look down between your bodies to see him stroking himself. Loose strands of hair are in his face, the veins in his neck pop from exertion as he jerks himself off over. His cum splatters all over your stomach and your bra.

“That’s my only one!” you gasp but moan, feeling yourself grow slick.

“Guess you’ll have to go without,” he smirks and buries his face between your thighs. His voice comes out in a gravelly whisper, “you’re going to be perfect, sugar. There’s nothing to mess up. You sing, and you look gorgeous.”

Blue’s mouth on your heat distracts you from the nerves. But only for a moment.

Even when you peel off your bra and clean off yourself your hand has a tremble. You can’t even apply your lipstick properly.

“Here, let me,” Blue sweeps in, swiping the red stick across you lips. “Remember this?” he grins affectionately. How could you forget? Though it seems like a lifetime ago.

Blue gives you a wink, an unspoken reminder that it’ll be alright. You want to believe him, you truly do. And you think on this on the short walk over to the club.

It wasn’t too long ago it was your dream to be a famous singer. Now you’re dating a man planning to kill and then become a mob boss. Your dream of fame seems meaningless now.

You remember that singing always calms your nerves, you hope it does tonight.

Your fingers tremble as you get dressed in your dressing room. These clasps have never been easy due to the tight nature of your outfit, but tonight it seems more difficult. Murder. You’ll helping to assist a man with a murder plot. This isn’t you. Or it wasn’t you. You look at yourself in the mirror and see the guilt and shame.

You picture Blue here. What would he say if he were with you? That Fontana is a bad man. He’s killed people. Hurt people. You’re doing the world a favor right?

Then you think about the promises Blue made to you. Being a mob wife, being spoiled with riches and affection from your doting husband.

Your face warms thinking about marrying Blue. You can picture what your wedding would be like. Him taking you somewhere fancy for your honeymoon.

Yes.

This is what you want. You’re going to help Blue with this. Besides, you’re not the one doing the actual killing. Blue has killed before, and he can again.

It’s almost showtime and you’re ready. As ready as you’ll ever be.

The backstage tech comes to get you, telling you it’s your cue. You give them a smile. This show is going to be killer.

You don’t make it a habit to look out in the audience when you perform, but you do tonight. Just to make sure the boss Fontana is there. And he is, sitting quietly near the middle.

You give it your all in this performance, it might be your last one for a while. You’ve not talked to Blue about it, but you wonder if that would be a bad idea.

You sing your heart out, and when the show is over you feel a rush of adrenaline as you head backstage. Blue is waiting for you in your dressing room with a big smile.

“You were fantastic, sugar,” he strokes your arm and gives you a deep kiss. “You ready for the second act? I’ll be right behind you, don’t be afraid.”

It’s hard not to be when you walk towards Fontana’s door. You’ve never been in here before. You take a moment to gather yourself. You smooth down the lines of your outfit and breathe. You knock on the door, and before you can even put your hand down – one of his guards is opening it.

The room is dimly lit and it’s hard to make out Fontana. There’s a window behind him. The shades are drawn but on the other side of the window you can tell is the bar.

You stand frozen, unsure of what to do when a guard puts his hand on your shoulder, pushing you back a little.

“Let her in,” you hear a voice.

It sounded like….

Blue?

As your eyes fully adjust to the light, you can see Blue sitting at the desk. He must have done it! He didn’t need you as a distraction after all!

“Blue?” You take a step forward. “Are you alright? Did you do it?”

“Do what sugar?” He chuckles softly and looks to the man standing to his right. It’s only then that you notice this man is Fontana. You gulp, you feel your blood run cold. Something’s not right.

“I thought-“

“You thought what?”

“Blue! Answer me!” You cross your arms over your chest. He’s not usually one for games with you like this.

“Sweetheart, no one tells me what to do.” He tuts with a frown that turns to a malicious smile. “But I suppose…I should explain to you what’s going on.”

A guard closes the door behind you with a click, and you hear the lock turn. You’re scared.

“You see, sugar-“ his voice sounds poisonous, not the one full of smooth honey and sensuality that you’d come to love. “We knew that Sam was the mole. We needed to get to him see? So I knew pulling you away from him would expose him.”

“You used me?”

He nods with another wicked smile.

“Oh, and I’m the boss. If you haven’t guessed that one yet. Always was. Did you really think they’d name a club after a random nightclub singer?” He laughs and so do his men. “Fontana here was my figurehead. And you fell right into my little trap sweet thing.”

“I-“ you feel betrayed. You were betrayed. You turn to leave, but a guard grabs your arm.

“I did NOT say you could leave. Sugar.” Blue yells and slams his hand on his desk. The action causes his perfectly gelled hair to flip down onto his forehead.

“What use do you have for me?” you feel hot tears pouring down your cheeks.

Blue looks up to Fontana with another wicked grin. “Well,” Blue starts and gets up, walking around the desk to face you. Two of his guards have their hands on you, keeping you still. Blue comes over to the front of his desk and leans on the edge looking at you. “You have two options.”

“Which are?” you sniffle and your lip begins to quiver.

“Aww, look at that lip,” he chuckles. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he claps his hands together and you jump. “You want your two options.” He sighs heavily and his thumb smooths over the edge of the desk repeatedly. “You can either marry me, be a mob wife. I’ll give you anything you want. Remember? When you were sucking my cock?” he chuckles and palms his dick through his pants. “You moaned sugar, you wanted to be my little mob wife. Well, now you have that chance!”

Tears are pouring down your cheeks, your face is hot with embarrassment and you feel like you could throw up all over the floor.

“But the second option…well, that’s not as fun. Since you’ve seen too much….well. I think you can guess your second choice.”

“I don’t-“ you sniffle again. You certainly don’t want to die, but what kind of life will you live if you’re Blue’s wife? Did he ever really love you?

“C’mere, sugar,” he beckons you over and the guards release their grip. You step over to him, he’s fully seated on the edge of his desk now. He reaches for you and smooths his hands up and down your arms like he has so many times. “You’re scared. I know. But you want to marry me right?”

“Did you ever?”

“Love you? No. But I did love fucking you,” he smirks. “It’d be a shame to give that up.” He pulls you forward and hovers over your lips with his own. “And remember, you owe me.”

“Owe you?” You pull back.

He hops up and goes to sit back in his chair. He looks through files on top of his desk and hands you a piece of paper. It’s the paper saying that you were hired by the club.

“I hired you. Yeah, your voice is good, but see we needed you. And hey! You got the gig!” he sits up and pulls you around to him. “But you OWE me.” He says pulling you down on his lap. You can feel him hard between your legs. “Feel that sugar? Do you wanna give this up?” He rubs himself against you and you want to pull away.

“So you’ve made your choice then?” he asks, grabbing your face to look at him.

“Blue, no-“

“You have.” He tsks and frowns. “Such a waste of good pussy. Ah, well. I can find another.” He reaches then in his breast pocket for the knife you know he keeps in there. He’s fast, you see it for a split second before he plunges it into your chest.

“Such a waste. She really was a knockout,” he strokes your cheek gently before you fall limp onto his desk. Your blood trickling over the fallen paper in your hand.

Blue stands and he motions towards his men. He snaps his fingers, “take care of this.” He turns looking out the window and he spots a waitress he’s had his eye on for some time. “Bring her to me, I have an itch I need to scratch,” he chuckles palming his hard dick.

Blue repeats looking at your lifeless body as the men carry you off, “she really was a knockout.”

ps....don’t spoil the ending for those who haven’t read it yet!!

tagging: @punkpascal, @sergeantkane, @pascalz, @wasicskosgirl, @tintinwrites, @velvetmel0n, @huliabitch, @mandoplease, @mylifeliterally, @shadow-assassin-blix, @bisexual-space-slut, @writefightandflightclub

[ofcloudsandstars]

May Magical Forecast

This month is going to be an incredible spiritual ride. There are a lot of aspects encouraging our spiritual growth and that actively want us to pursue deep emotional healing in order to align us to a better path. The Taurus New Moon is all about inner healing and nurturing to achieve growth. That Lunar cycle will bring us two retrogrades (Saturn and Mercury) along with the climax of the Lunar Eclipse at the end of the month. It's time to heal, shed old beliefs and welcome in new opportunities that can open doors!

1 - ☾♑   Spring Crossquarter | Beltane Disseminating Moon | Moon Trine Sun

Today will feel celebratory with the moon trining the sun! This beneficial aspect gives a day of abundance and generosity as the sun and moon are aligned in a harmonious aspect. It will feel extra lovely with it being the pinnacle of Spring! This crossquarter marks the day where we are halfway through Spring at it's height before it blurs into the summertime. It's a lovely day to connect with nature, drink floral tea, appreciate all that is blooming in your life and take advantage of this fertile time to set some intentions!

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Week 1 

2 - ☾♒ Mercury in Taurus trines Pluto rx in Capricorn Venus in Taurus sextiles Neptune in Pisces Moon enters Aquarius

A wonderful day for deep introspection, creativity and shadow work. With Mercury in a beneficial trine with Pluto retrograde we can tap into a deeper layer of our consciousness, uncover truths and come to face with some powerful underlying emotions. Our mind and inner power are aligned and we can accomplish a lot if we set our minds to it. With Venus in a lovely sextile with Neptune our sense of beauty, values and pleasures want to work together with our creativity and spirituality. It's a lovely day for art, exploring sensual pleasures and applying that spiritually perhaps through aesthetic rituals or making art that reflects and or explores our beliefs and inner world. With the moon in Aquarius we may feel some minor shifts in our inner world. With the Pluto rx and mercury trine we may feel like changing deep seated habits or changing our physical intimate spaces such as our bedrooms to suit this shift. With the venus and neptune sextile we may feel like expanding our perspective and trying new sensual pursuits that takes us deeper into our spirituality or helps us to escape in wonderlands.

3 - ☾♒ Last Quarter Moon Mercury in Taurus squares Jupiter in Aquarius Sun in Taurus squares Saturn in Aquarius

The Last Quarter moon is a wonderful time for self reflection and meditation. This is a time to review what intentions we've set on the Aries New Moon and what we've released or ended on the Scorpio supermoon. Have our efforts been worth it this cycle? What have we learned? What can we improve on? What can we wrap up before the next cycle begins? With the last quarter moon in Aquarius the themes can be about our freedom, expressing our individuality and making progress with our goals. Are our Aries new moon intentions realized yet? How can we help them progress? The Sun will square Saturn making the day feel slow, repressive and heavy. Our responsibilities can feel like burdens and we can feel restricted by them no matter how hard we work towards them. Though squares build up tension that make us crave action, it is best to process them through reflection. With the Sun and Saturn square we must reflect on what work we have to do and how to best strategize our time to tackle these goals. This can tie into the last quarter moon with reflection and wrapping up any work that needs to be done. With the last quarter moon in Aquarius symbolizing our freedom we can dream up strategies to free ourselves from the burdens of unneeded responsibilities and see what habits or stressful obligations we must cut off if we want to move forward.

4 - ☾♒ Mercury enters Gemini

Mercury enters it's home sign in Gemini!! Mercury the planet of communication, our minds and ideas is naturally at ease in sociable Gemini. For this cycle we will feel our mental energy heighten as we get more curious and chatty. We may find more people socializing and see it in harmony with the lovely spring hastening into Summer. We may also come across a lot more information, both sparking our curious interest but also overwhelming and potentially confusing us. Mercury is a trickster energy so beware of all the information you consume. There may be more gossip at this time, more fake news, more deceit and double sides to everything. However if you are aware of this and have good discernment then this transit will bring a lot of fun conversations and mingling for the next three weeks!

5 - ☾♓ Balsamic Moon | Moon Sextile Sun Moon enters Pisces

The energy will feel great today with the moon sextiling the sun. The two energies will want to work together in order to help wrap up any pressing tasks on our mind or to focus on our home or inner life and apply our energies there. When the Moon sextiles the sun it's a good time to clean your intimate space, cleanse it from the energies built up before and banish anything unwanted from your life. With the moon in Pisces it's a lovely day for bath magic and to take a cleansing shower purifying yourself of energies you no longer want to take with you into the next cycle.

6 - ☾♓ Venus in Taurus trines Pluto rx in Capricorn

We may feel deep and powerful emotions surrounding our values, possessions, relationships and sense of love and validation with Venus in a trine with Pluto in retrograde. Venus and Pluto trines are intense transits which can bring the thing your soul desires the most towards you if only you are aware of this energy and work with it. However with Pluto in retrograde it may bring up past memories of the things/people/situations you desired and your emotions surrounding that along with potential feelings of obsession or depression depending on how those situations went. It's a good day to either journal or set intentions through writing and visualizing what you want. However before you dive into the intentions it's good for self reflection and shadow work to help clear any emotions that may be clouding deep subconscious feelings surrounding certain desires. Do you really feel that you need that in your life or do you obsess over it to have a sense of control or power? Do you really need that control or power in that area of your life or is it stemming from insecurity? Pluto's energy loves to empower but if you try to use that power for manipulation and let your hunger for control cloud your judgement then Pluto easily takes it all away in it's game of sudden death.

7 - ☾♈ Moon enters Aries

The day will feel more energetic as the moon shifts into Aries. When the moon is in Aries it's a good day to go after what you want, channel mars, do fire based magic and practice various exercises that help you connect to your body from dance to martial arts or even yoga.

8 - ☾♈ Venus in Taurus squares Jupiter in Aquarius

Today will feel fun yet gluttonous with Venus in a square with Jupiter. Once again Squares are an aspect that causes tension kind of like if we have a desirable or impulsive thought that is enticing us to take action over and over we can feel restless and frustrated if we cannot get those needs met. When we do take action because this aspect causes tension we can often be met with opposition if we just act on impulse without thinking. Therefore this aspect is great for reflection and strategizing before action. Pay attention to what Venus squares Jupiter makes you crave. Do you want to socialize more? Indulge more? Play more? You can definitely fulfill these desires today and today will feel incredible if you let yourself loose however with this unstable aspect it can easily put a strain on your finances as you may indulge too deeply. However if this aspect is stressing you out to the point of FOMO and you feel like compensating with retail therapy this is when it's time to stop yourself and apply that reflection/strategy. Is there another way you can fulfill these needs of socializing or enjoying pleasures without impulsive reactions like buying a bunch of shit online for a quick dose of serotonin only to realize you wasted your money and don't really need any of those things?? Is there another outlet you can enjoy yourself instead??

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Week 2

9 - ☾♉ Venus enters Gemini Moon enters Taurus

Today will feel fun and flirty with the moon entering sensual Taurus and Venus starting a new transit in Gemini. With Venus in Gemini we may feel more flirtatious in this period as our curiosity motivates us on romantic and social levels. We will feel more inclined to want to go out, spend time socializing and trying things out on a superficial level. This can be a fun time to experiment (not just in dating but any fun experiences you always wanted to try) and mingle but not do anything too serious. We may find beauty more in words and attraction in flirtatious messages as we tend to bond more readily on a mental level while Venus is in this air sign. The shadowy part of this aspect is it may tend to bring out people's flakey sides as you may notice more ghosting if people's curiosity fails to be satiated.

10 - ☾♉

There are no notable transits today other than the moon in Taurus. When the moon is in Taurus it's a good time for exploring your sensualities, green magic and taking time to rest and indulge.

11 - ☾♉ New Moon in Taurus Mercury in Gemini sextiles Chiron in Aries Mercury conjunct North Node in Gemini

It's a powerful day today with a new lunar cycle starting in Taurus. As the Aries lunar cycle has come to it's end we've set intentions revolving around our sense of courage to maintain our freedom and fight for what we want. Now this lunar cycle asks us to stay on course, commit to our goals, yet not in an arduous grind kind of way. This cycle wants us to tend to our goals gently to allow them space to bud and grow. The themes of this new moon will be highlighted by some powerful aspects hosted by Mercury the planet of our mind and communication. Mercury will be in a beneficial sextile with Chiron in Aries which will make our minds want to focus on our healing. It will be a nurturing time where we will feel inclined to make space to focus on anything not working in our life or past painful experiences and try to remedy them or create better habits moving forward. Mercury will also be conjunct the North Node in Gemini which is aligning our minds towards the collective karmic growth. This day may make us review how we have been nurturing ourselves and how we heal and if we can align ourselves to be in harmony with our current paths. (Additionally Chiron will also be sextiling the North Node as well so this energy is adding to it). On this New Moon some good questions to ask yourself for this new cycle is how you can commit to nurturing yourself, valuing yourself and healing bad habits/mindsets moving forward? With Uranus in Taurus there will be some aid to help break up the stubborn signs energy and help change old habits. (At one point the moon will conjunct Uranus too so the energy of change will be in the air). You can set intentions to aim to change old unhelpful habits and tend to yourself, your healing and your goals more.

12 - ☾♊ Mars in Cancer squares Chiron in Aries Mars in Cancer sextiles Uranus in Taurus Mercury in Gemini trines Saturn in Aquarius Moon enters Gemini

Today's energy is great if you are aware of how to use it. Otherwise it can cause a lot of pain. Immediately I must warn of the Mars and Chiron square as that is a dangerous combination that can warrant a health hazard or cause physical pain and even traumatic fights. Be aware of your space, your body, your boundaries and how others could be processing the energy. Please be careful.

However on a good note, though the energy today may feel initially stressful it can be the gun powder to help shift some good change in your life. Mars is in a sextile with Uranus in Taurus which fuels our drive to want to create a change or work towards freedom no matter the challenge or obstacle. The thing is with the Mars and Chiron square that motivation may come from us trying to heal issues or run away from pain or the past in order to find freedom of it. However like all squares they really need reflection instead of impulsive reaction (which Mars is too good at). Instead of acting on impulse without awareness of this energy- which could potentially cause accidents- it would be best to reflect on what the source of pain is that you would want to change and strategize on how to change it before immediately taking action. Then you can make wiser decisions. Two planets that are willing to help with this are Mercury and Saturn in a beneficial trine. The planet of our mind and responsibility are in a harmonious aspect which will allow us to review our tasks with maturity and process information/exercise decision making with wisdom and patience. Together this energy can help us make the best decisions and take on any hard tasks mentally which can guide us to make positive change in the future and help heal. With the moon in Gemini we can pick apart our emotions with details and help have a more objective understanding of our inner world, however this energy can create distractibility so it's best to organize your day with a list or do whatever is best to tackle problems in an organized way that suits you.

13 - ☾♊ Jupiter enters Pisces Sun conjunct Lilith in Taurus Sun in Taurus sextiles Neptune in Pisces

Today we ascend into the spiritual realm!! We will feel a powerful yet dreamy energy shift today with some incredible ingresses and aspects guiding us into the more magical side of things. First Jupiter is entering Pisces!!! This encourages us to expand our spirituality, expand and explore our magic!! Adventure upon our spiritual and magical paths, expand upon our creativity and really explore our compassion and empathy for the collective. Jupiter will have a retrograde this year returning it to Aquarius and then go back into Pisces for a longer while but this transit will last through the summertime making Summer 2021 a dreamy magical time to spiritually explore ourselves. Today's shift will be amplified by the Sun sextiling Neptune which means the themes of the day want us to focus on our spirituality, creativity and compassion. We will feel inclined to tap into our magical side and do something about it!! The Sun will also be conjunct Lilith in Taurus (also making Neptune sextile that point as well). This will be an interesting combination to add as Lilith is a bit like the dark side of the moon as this point represents our repressed emotions and shadow side. With Lilith in the mix it's like the imps are out the play in the fairyworld we are about to enter. The themes wants us to focus on our shadow side and work with our shadow in order to understand our repressed sides and potential unmet needs. With Neptune in it's sextile it may encourage unhealthy escapism which could lead to substance abuse. This is a great day for shadow work and being aware of anything you could have buried in order to heal it. There are many transits aligned with your healing to help you address these issues in order to have inner harmony and evolve. Also being aware of this make sure to protect your space from others that may not be aware of their shadow side so that you are protected. Neptunal energy loves to dissolve boundaries and now with Jupiter the expansive planet in Neptune we may have more boundaries breeched than ever before. It's good to protect your energy and your space.

14 - ☾♊

There are no notable transits today other than the moon completing it's transit in Gemini. When the moon is in Gemini it's a good day to explore topics that pique your interest, try new things, read articles and books, practice air based magic, sound based magic (such as meditating to binural beats or sound bowls), practice bibliomancy and journal new ideas.

15 - ☾♋ Moon enters Cancer

The moon enters it's home sign of Cancer today. It's a lovely day to take a moment to focus on your personal space, your emotional state, tidy your space and nurture yourself. --------------- 16 - ☾♋

There are no notable transits today other than the moon in Cancer. When the moon is in cancer it's a good time to practice any form of cottage magic such as kitchen magic, bath magic, self care, reflecting on your emotions and practicing shadow work and taking personal time to rest and recoup.

17 - ☾♋ Waxing Crescent | Sun Sextile Moon Sun in Taurus trines Pluto rx in Capricorn

Today is a good day to act upon any plans or work towards any goals and intentions set during the Taurus new moon. When the Sun sextiles the Moon the two energies want to work together and gives us a boost of energy to get things done. The Sun will also be in a lucky trine today with Pluto retrograde giving us a deeper sense of power if we are aware of how to tap into it. Some themes we can encounter today would highlight our power or how we can empower ourselves. Alternatively it can help us untangle our subconscious fears (which can surround around lack of power) and help with healing. Either way this day wants us to work towards our goals and explore new paths and areas of interests which can help us on our journey.

18 - ☾♌ Venus in Gemini sextiles Chiron in Aries Moon enters Leo

This lunar cycle is really about healing as we have back to back aspects forcing us to do shadow work and heal within. Another aspect we will be influenced by will be Venus sextiling Chiron in Aries which is a beneficial aspect that makes us want to heal our relationships, reassess our values and address any trauma in areas of romance or partnerships. It will feel less moody and contemplative and more proactive as the sextile will push us to make action in order to heal. We may feel more inclined to mend the relationships in our lives. With the moon in Leo the flavor of the day may feel a bit more dramatic with everything going on but this placement will make us aware of our needs and urge us towards self love.

19 - ☾♌ First Quarter Moon

This first quarter moon is a good time to reflect on your New Moon in Taurus intentions and what you have learned and worked towards so far during the waxing crescent lunar phase. Is there anything not working? Any challenges you could be facing in your journey? This first quarter moon is a rest stop to examine your previous choices and strategize for the future. It's not good to take action now or else you may come face to face with resistance. It's good to reflect. The first quarter moon was highlighted by the Venus x Chiron sextile the day before. In the journey of this Taurean lunar phase asking us to commit to our self love and growth we may find under this Leo moon how we have been honoring and loving ourselves and our projects during this cycle so far. If you do not feel like you have been making progress with your growth in certain areas it's time to reassess and find out how. This is a good day to plan barrier breaking and road opening magic to break down obstacles in your way or bring new opportunities towards you when the moon turns into it's waxing gibbous phase.

20 - ☾♍ Sun enters Gemini Venus in Gemini trines Saturn in Aquarius Moon enters Virgo

Gemini season begins!! This is the last chapter of Spring when the air gets noticably warmer, the eve of Summer is on our doorsteps and we are feeling more social and mingling than ever. This is a great time to explore interests, make new acquaintances and share/explore ideas. This time is also very flighty and full of confusion with a pinch of (fun) chaos. As long as you manage to have fun during this season it's always a good time. Today we may feel inclined to work on our relationships and finances with a more mature approach as Venus forms a lucky trine with Saturn. This is a great time to organize your finances, put aside savings and also address any self love/self worth or issues with partnerships in a mature way. It's a good grounding start to a typically messy season. What will add to this is the moon in Virgo helping us to organize and solve any issues we are facing in our daily lives.

21 - ☾♍ Sun in Gemini squares Jupiter in Pisces

Today is all about expanding into the deep! With the Sun in a square with Jupiter there is built up energy ready to explode into fireworks!! Jupiter wants us to follow this enticing nudge to dive into our creativity, explore our spirituality and consume all that piques our curiosity in these areas. However it's good to have some discernment when exploring your spiritual interests and to have some moderation if you feel that this pull is making you interested in escapism instead. It will feel like an intensely magical day and a great day to do magic! If you are feeling like you are in a spiritual or magical slump it's a good day to mark to do something fun or discover something new.

22 - ☾♎ Waxing Gibbous | Sun Trine Moon

Today is the lucky transit between the Sun and the Moon which adds a boost of luck to our day if we are aware and tap into it. It's a good day to review what you've strategized on the first quarter moon in Leo and go for it. If you still feel blocked it's a great day for road opening and barrier breaking spells. It's a fantastic day for attraction magic and bringing opportunities your way. As the moon is in Libra spells that would get a boost would be for love, any partnerships, harmony (diffusing conflict) and justice.

--------------- 23 - ☾♎ Saturn enters Retrograde -until Oct 11th! Mercury in Gemini squares Neptune in Pisces

Saturn enters Retrograde today until the 11th of October! When this planet moves in reverse it's a karmic time fusing our past and present. If we have been slacking or avoiding issues this retrograde will dish out a lesson or encounter which will cause us to face the consequences. If we have been dutiful and responsible then this retrograde will bring great luck and alignment. Saturn retrograde energy is very much like the big bad wolf coming to blow down your house and your house is your past efforts. If you took time to build a brick house you have little to be concerned for now, in fact you can take a break. If your house isn't sturdy, well.. brace yourself. Saturn just wants us to work hard and be the best we can be so take this retrograde as a time of reflection and making time to address your obligations and sorting things out. If you have a few tasks you have to take care of and are feeling frozen in place, make a to do list and make a smaller bullet point list of what to do for each step so you can have a clearer idea of your path.

Another transit today is Mercury and Neptune in a square. This tension can make us a bit cloudy and confused and very prone to daydreaming or escapism. The combination with Saturn retrograde could make the day feel uneasy, however that may really depend on how you've handled past responsibilities. This square can let you take it easy and daydream or can make you feel more confused than ever. It's still a good idea to protect your boundaries and make sure you set time aside to get what you need done then enjoy the rest of the transit fulfilling your creativity or escapist needs.

24 - ☾♏ Moon enters Scorpio

There are no other notable transits today other than the moon entering Scorpio. When the moon enters scorpio it's a good time to dive deep, banish and do some shadow work.

25 - ☾♏

The moon is wrapping up it's transit in Scorpio today.

26 - ☾♐ Full Moon Lunar Eclipse in Sagittarius

The Eclipse chapter begins! The Sagittarius Full Moon asks us to see the bigger picture in the day to day details and align ourselves with our truths and authenticity instead of getting distracted by any interesting piece of information or ideas that don't entirely serve us. It's nature is because the Sagittarius moon is opposite the Gemini sun so it's merging two sides of the same coin to get a grander perspective on the lesson that this zodiac season is trying to guide us through. However Eclipses are all about endings and transformation. Lunar Eclipses are best for undoing obstacles and banishment (where as Solar is best for inner death/transformation/rebirth.) This Eclipse chapter will take us from this Full Moon Sagittarius eclipse into the Gemini New Moon Eclipse. From Full to New Moon Eclipse the journey can be about overcoming tests and challenges, doors closing while new ones opens and obstacles finally getting out of your way as you enter the new karmic chapter in your life. Eclipses activate the lunar Nodes which is why they feel so karmic and help align you to your destiny.

The theme of this eclipse may be felt on a more mental and spiritual level. Sagittarius is pushing for us to find the truth, knowledge, enlightenment and elevate us from just focusing on the details or irrelevant information. What will add to this is Neptune squaring the eclipse that can help dissolve all the boundaries as well as limiting beliefs we've put on our minds to help us push towards freedom and higher truths. (Neptune squares can cause delusion though but they can also bring divine messages.)

It's a good day to review what mindsets and fears you want to break free from and shed what is no longer serving you.

Charging items on an eclipse or making moon water can be tricky business. This is not the same energy of a Super Moon (when the moons orbit is closest to the earth as it becomes a full moon therefore making it huge)- where the lunar energy feels doubled. Eclipse energy is undoing type of magic which is fantastic in a lot of spells especially barrier breaking/road opening and hexing but if you want to charge crystals or magical tools that help promote energy you may be asking your tools to absorb energy that seeks to undo. As long as you are aware of how this energy acts out you should be fine in deciding what you'd like to charge or not, but just keep in mind that eclipses are a different energy.  

27 - ☾♐ Venus in Gemini squares Neptune in Pisces

Today we may really feel the unstable eclipse energy with the Venus and Neptune square exacerbating things. It may be best to take some time to yourself and protect your boundaries. With Venus and Neptune in a square there can be paranoia with our relationships, feelings of emotional fog, desires for sensual escapism, a lack of motivation to work, deception from other people and confusion in our spiritual values. It is a good time for reflection but even so the reflection can be met with inner confusion. It's a good time to understand that the world (and possibly yourself) is going through a lot of changes and not act rashly. It's also a good day to process emotions through art or journaling. Also taking time to nurture yourself and take plenty of naps.

28 - ☾♑ Moon enters Capricorn

There are no other notable transits today other than the moon entering Capricorn. When the moon is in Capricorn it's a great day to tackle tasks and focus on responsibilities, practice boundary setting, mineral and earth based magic, ancestral magic and working on something you've been putting off.

29 - ☾♑ Mercury enters Retrograde -until the 22nd June Mercury conjunct Venus in Gemini

Today our minds and hearts are fused as one with Mercury and Venus aligned in Gemini. We may feel very reflective on our friendships and possible relationships with our siblings or close ones as Mercury will enter retrograde today. Following the themes of the eclipse we may wonder if the people we currently surround ourselves with share our like minds and ideas or if they turn out to be not so great for us and steer us away from who we are supposed to be.

This Mercury retrograde wants us to reflect in our areas of close friendships, our mentality and how we communicate our ideas. It is a very reflective mental journey following the eclipse that may want us to align with our authenticity by getting rid of beliefs that are not good for us and instead focusing on ideas that help us grow.  

--------------- 30 - ☾♒ Moon enters Aquarius

There are no notable transits today other than the moon entering Aquarius. When the moon is in Aquarius it's a great day for meditation, learning something new, weather magic, techno magic and making personal changes to your space.

31 - ☾♒ Disseminating Moon | Moon Trine Sun Mars in Cancer trines Neptune in Pisces

We end the month with the Moon trining the sun. This beneficial aspect makes the day feel lucky and brings an extra boost of harmony to our lives. We may feel more generous and sociable under this transit. Another beneficial aspect is Mars trining Neptune which is lucky energy if we remember to tap into it. Trines can be so harmonious we hardly realize them passing by. However if we want to apply energy or work towards our creativity, spirituality and arts we will find a lot of success today due to the Mars and Neptune trine. It's a lovely day for creativity, art and practicing magic.

[chaos-in-bright-pink-hair-dye]

would you mind writing something about the venom brothers watching the sunrise together? i'm literally obsessed with this headcanon. thanks bby and good luck with the movie lol.

Mind? I would love to the headcanon is amazing!

Sunrises are all we have left

Alternatively: The rare moments when the Venom brothers don’t want to kick each other in the face

Word count: 1 067

Warning: mention of injury, implied trauma

Party Poison hadn't slept very well in the previous few weeks, the wound on their side still burning against the fabric of their t-shirt and faces of the 'joys that weren't as lucky as them haunting their dreams. Hence the quiet familiar click of Diner's backdoor closing was enough to wake them from their restless sleep ’Kobra? I heard the door, we shoul-’ they whispered reaching next to them to shake their younger brother up but found only an empty sleeping bag instead. ‘Where the fuck did you go...’ murmured Party as they slowly got up trying not to disturb Jet and Ghoul, both of them got their own good share in the last dance party with dracs and even if Party couldn’t get the so needed rest at least they should.

There was no trace of Kobra in front of the building but Party didn't hear him starting 27 so he had to be somewhere around, there was no way they could overhear the loud roar of the metal monster among silent dark dunes with no one but them around. Their bare feet burrowed into the still slightly warm sand as they made their way around the long-abandoned building that they now called their home.

Late at night like this, it seemed as if no one but ghosts lived inside, wind tugging on the foil they’d put into broken windows and the light mint paint, lovingly applied by someone long gone, now covered under layers of graffiti instead, slowly chipping off under their touch, leaving little flakes on the tips of their fingers. They hadn’t lived there for long, they hadn’t been a crew for long either, just few months before it was just them and Kobra, now? The Fabulous Killjoys, to Party it kinda sounded like a joke, when they weren’t fighting for their bare lives with piles of bodies, both white and neon, by their side, they constantly got into each other’s hair, what is so fabulous about that. But if they wanted to survive, they had to keep the façade up and in the end, those two dumbasses peacefully sleeping inside and their currently missing brother was all they had and out in the desert you have to be happy for whatever you have, so if those three are their new family, then be it.

Speaking of their missing brother they still haven’t caught a single sign of him being around but with Kobra being himself there was only one place where he could be. The roof, place where he always went to fight his demons, actually where any of them went when they wanted to be alone with their thoughts or just overwhelmed and needed a little bit of peace. It was an unspoken rule all of them respected and also used maybe a little too often.

‘Couldn’t choose a worse place to brood could ya..’ the killjoy grunted grabbing the lowest bar of the ladder leading to the roof, lowest meaning it was actually a good meter and half above the ground which wasn’t exactly fun to climb with a still fresh wound on your ribs. ‘Kobes? Ya here?’ They finally dragged themselves over the edge, laying on the harsh black asphalt for a while to catch their breath. Climbing with only one hand and holding the gash on their side with the other was way less fun than they’d thought it would be, which wasn’t much to start with.

They didn’t get an answer but they could clearly see their brother’s dark silhouette against the pink sunrise. Big old blanket tightly wrapped around his shoulders to protect him from the cold of desert night. At first glance he seemed like a statue, sitting between two letters of the big neon sign at the front, left behind by people no one remembers, only his short blond hair slightly moving in the morning breeze.

‘Ugh the fuck are ya doin’ up here?’ sighed the older killjoy stepping next to their little brother. ‘Remember how we used to watch sunrises from the balcony of our parent’s apartment?’ Kobra asked quietly without otherwise acknowledging Party’s presence, stoically looking at the clouds on the horizon painted orange and pink by the rising sun. ’Ya know I don’t...’ Party smiled softly, giving the younger ‘joy quick sad glance. ‘Mind lendin’ me some of that blanket it’s freezing out here and I’m wearing only a t-shirt and shorts’ they tried to quickly change the theme so that they wouldn’t have to think about what was on their mind since they’d gotten into the zones. Their past of which neither of them knew more that the few glimpses they caught in their dreams, but from those Party accepted it was maybe better this way.

Kobra finally looked at them, shuffling to the side and lifting the thick bright yellow fabric from their back to make room for Party. ‘Bad dreams again?’ they asked quietly, their voice a little raspy, after they sat next to Kobra pressing their knees to their chest to hide under the blanket as much as possible. ‘Yeah, ya know it, Mr. Snuggles trying to kill me again.’ Kobra laughed shaking his head ‘but seriously you should be sleeping, ya need to rest’ he wouldn’t admit it but one could clearly hear the concerns in his voice. He knew there was something wrong with Party no matter how hard they tried to hide the bags under their eyes with make-up or clean the blood stains on their clothes. His older brother was always there for him, with them he was safe, but now when Party wasn’t truly themselves Kobra wasn’t sure what to do.

‘Hmm maybe you should have been quieter ’Party tried to laugh but ended up yawning instead, making their sentence almost unintelligible ‘Oh shut up’ the younger brother smirked slightly pushing their sibling but got no response. ‘Hm finally run out of wo- Oh, I see...’ he got interrupted by Party’s head lightly falling onto his shoulder. ‘Guess I can stay here with you for a while’ he whispered, gently brushing few strands of bright red hair out of their brother’s face. ‘But if ya drool onto my t-shirt I'm gonna use your drinkin’ water to clean it’ he laughed quietly as if Party could hear him, turning his gaze back to the sunrise. Yeah, he could stay there for a while.

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | chapter 15

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 12.0k

warnings: descriptions of violence, sexual assault, mental illness. dark themes and foul language. all information regarding psychiatric conditions or courtroom procedures are to be taken with a fat grain of salt.

description: As Han Jisung’s trial steadily approaches, Hwang Hyunjin struggles to decide where his loyalties lie. Prosecutor Kang is as ruthless as he is greedy, and a startling confession from Yang Jeongin reveals that the ugliest pasts often lie behind the brightest of smiles. Old scars run deep, and all wounds are finally reopened on the day of the trial.

watch the trailer here!

ryu says: “holy h*cking shit.”

15| the devil’s advocate.

“Is Miroh Heights rallying for the death of a 20-year-old orphan? Is justice always this heartless?

“The only existing psychological analysis of alleged serial killer Han Jisung has now been revealed to the public eye, painting a stark contrast with the image of the stone-cold murderer we were all introduced to before. What else is the prosecution hiding? Is Han Jisung at the mercy of a system that has failed him once — and will it fail him again? More on this complex case, next week.” 

You set the school paper down on the diner table. Across from you, Bang Chan gave a low whistle. “Lee Felix, is it? You really outdid yourself, kid.”

Felix grinned. He was glowing, not just from the detective’s praise, but with a light sheen of sweat — you two had woken up at the crack of dawn to deliver the newspapers around town, Felix on Jeongin’s bike, and you and Chan in Woojin’s police cruiser. The delivery boy had even drawn out a map of all the shortcuts he knew, and so you had all made it back to Glow Cafe — where Hyunjin was waiting with fresh mugs of coffee — before noon.

Jeongin scanned the front-page article again, nodding excitedly. “I read the local press’ papers every day while I was in the hospital — this basically goes directly against everything they’ve been saying.” He still had weeks before he was allowed to be discharged from the hospital, but had managed to bribe a nurse into letting him take ‘short walks for fresh air’ during the day. 

“Why’re we fighting against the local media, though?” Hyunjin asked. The barista looked much better now that Jeongin was awake �� the colour had returned to his once-pale cheeks, and he had opened the cafe back up for business again. “I mean, what does the news have to do with the trial? Knowing the prosecutor, he probably doesn’t even care.”

Chan shook his head. “The media plays a huge role in cases like these — mass murder allegations, things that’ll implicate the entire town. In smaller cases, yeah, no one would look twice at the news. But for cases like Jisung’s, they’re going to bring in a jury for the trial — and most times, what the jury agrees on ends up being the final verdict.”

“But the jury isn’t supposed to have heard of the case beforehand.”

Woojin grimaced. “In theory. Miroh Heights is a big town, but it’s old — not to mention it’s a campus area.” When Hyunjin still looked confused, Woojin continued, “That all makes it a close-knit community. There’s only so many people who qualify for jury duty — and I’m willing to bet that there’s not a single person in Miroh Heights who isn’t keeping up with Jisung’s case by now.”

“Kang’s a top-tier scumbag, but he’s far from stupid,” Chan mused, reaching for his mug and frowning when there was no more coffee left. “It definitely wouldn’t be beyond him to pull some strings to make sure he gets to choose the people on the jury: the ones exposed to the case — the news — the most—”

You finished his thought for him. “Students. Professors. Citizens.”

“Exactly.”

There was a brief silence. Chan began a side conversation with Felix, and you snuck a look at Hyunjin. He had disappeared behind the counter, and was fiddling with the cash register with his head down.

You glanced back at the table. Woojin and Jeongin were sitting in a strangely awkward silence — the delivery boy’s expression was oddly closed off, you thought to yourself. It was almost...cold, a side of Jeongin you had never seen before. Shrugging, you excused yourself from your seat and retreated behind the bar to where Hyunjin was standing quietly. The barista was idly unrolling packets of coins to refill the cash register, and didn’t look up at you. 

You nudged him gently. “Hey, ‘jinnie.” Nothing. “Hwang Hyunjin, talk to me.”

The long silence was broken only by the clinking of coins, until Hyunjin finally mumbled, “What d’you mean?” 

You sighed, fiddling with an empty coin tube and trying to find the right words. “It’s— it’s a lot to ask for, I know.” You didn’t have to mention Jisung’s name for him to know what you were referring to — your boyfriend’s case hung over all of your heads like a guillotine every second of the day.

Still, your mind flashed back to his sudden outburst months ago, when he had first met Jisung face-to-face in the cafe. His cold, guarded wariness towards the other boy, and how he’d spent the next two months practically soulless by Jeongin’s bedside. You tried to meet his eyes. “You’ve been through a lot.”

The coins were trembling in Hyunjin’s long fingers. “You’ve been through more,” he muttered back. You didn’t have to follow his gaze to know he was looking at the site of your stab wound, hidden under the layers of your sweater. “How’d they let you out so early, anyways?”

“Hey, I was in there for nearly a month — they said I slept for three weeks straight, you know?” You laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension, but Hyunjin didn’t return the smile. “I’m okay, ‘jin.”

Your eyes searched his face for a response. Despite everything, Hyunjin still looked weary — like he had gotten older, more tired. He had seen things in the past few months that could never be erased — you all had. And you knew Hyunjin like the back of your hand — he had been one of the first faces you’d met when you’d moved to Miroh Heights, the unlikely first close friend you’d made. With absent parents who ran businesses abroad, Hyunjin had been on his own for most of his life. You knew how he always kept his worries and doubts to himself, how his polite, casual demeanor hid a heart full of emotions he didn’t know how to deal with or express. 

“Are you okay, though?” Hyunjin asked, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours, and you felt your heart pang at how helpless he looked. “Every time you see something wrong — someone in trouble, you stop at nothing until you can help them. And I love that about you, y/n. I really do—but—” Hyunjin gestured his hands wildly, voice wavering as if he was struggling to get the words out, “You can’t save everyone, y/n.” The familiar words made you shrink back as Hyunjin kept talking. “The last time you tried, you nearly ended up— d-dead. I’m worried like hell, okay?. Worried that if you keep trying to save others, you’ll just be the one hurt in the end.”

“Hyunjin—” You reached out to grab his shaking hands, to calm him down, but your elbow knocked over a roll of coins. They spilled across the floor, making everyone jump and look up.

“Everything okay back there?” Chan called, and you nodded, waving him away distractedly as Hyunjin dropped down to pick the change up. As you knelt down to help him, you heard footsteps approach the counter, and looked up to see Jeongin behind you. Back at the table, Chan and Felix were still talking like newfound frat brothers, but Woojin was fiddling with his mug silently.

“Can I talk to him for a moment?” Jeongin asked you quietly, and you glanced back down at Hyunjin. Jeongin had been sitting the closest to the bar counter, you realised — he had probably heard a good chunk of your conversation. You nodded, placing the change on the countertop, and headed back to the table.

Hyunjin watched Jeongin dive for a quarter that was rolling away. Underneath Jeongin’s sleeves, Hyunjin could see fading scratches peeking out — where the skin had scraped away when he’d fallen to the ground, bloody and unconscious, the night of the attacks. They were nearly healed, but the memory alone still made Hyunjin’s gut twist, and he tore his gaze away.

“Do you still think about that night?”

Both Jeongin’s quiet voice and his question took Hyunjin by surprise, and he couldn’t help but look up. The younger boy’s eyes were soft, gentle — a contradiction to his naturally fox-like features — and it was as if he’d spoken Hyunjin’s thoughts out loud. You never had to explain anything to Jeongin, Hyunjin thought. Growing up with no one but his sickly grandmother, Hyunjin had never truly opened up to anyone before — but Jeongin always seemed to understand exactly how Hyunjin was feeling, and there was something about the younger boy that could always calm Hyunjin down. 

He’d always looked at Jeongin like a younger brother, a bright presence Hyunjin wanted to protect and take care of at all costs. 

Now, Hyunjin found himself wondering if Jeongin had been the one taking care of him, all along.

“I see it every time I close my eyes,” Jeongin finally continued, and the question repeated itself in Hyunjin’s head — that night. The night Han Jisung had killed another student, and sent Jeongin into a two-month coma. The night Hyunjin had woken up to find his closest friend bleeding out on his storefront. No matter how many times the memory crept up on Hyunjin, it still made his blood run cold.

Hyunjin could only nod, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.

“Sometimes...I think about how things might’ve been different. If I hadn’t stopped — no, if I hadn’t even taken that shortcut through the Yellow Wood. Or...if I didn’t have to work the night shift in the first place.” Jeongin huffed a soft laugh, then drew quiet. “But we don’t really get to decide what happens to us, huh? One thing leads to another, and the next thing you know, the world’s turned upside down.” He paused. Something in the younger boy’s voice made Hyunjin think he wasn’t just talking about the Yellow Wood anymore.

“I wonder if he...if Jisung thinks about that, too.” Jeongin continued. “How things would have changed if he hadn’t taken that path that night. Or, if he never had to do the things he did...” Jeongin trailed off, and a question was left hanging in the air.

Where did it all go wrong?

It wasn’t like Hyunjin had never seen Jisung in passing — the kid whose bright smile and boisterous laugh masked his strangely wide, dark eyes. Who seemed to linger alone on the streets and in the shadows of murky alleyways after curfew, just wandering. As if the boy was constantly looking for something he’d lost — but had long since forgotten what it was.

“I just...” Hyunjin’s own voice surprised him, but as soon as he got the words out, he could no longer stop them. “I just want everything to go back to normal. The way things used to be. I—” Hyunjin looked around the cafe, letting out a shaky sigh. “I’ve grown up in this town all my life. Maybe I’ve grown scared of change — scared of how it could make me lose everything. Scared of how it could make me lose you guys.” He put his throbbing head in his hands. “Maybe that’s what makes me a coward. I don’t know Jisung. But I’ve seen the things he’s done, and I can’t — I can’t watch it happen again. I don’t think I could take it.” He looked at Jeongin helplessly. “How do you...forgive someone who could have killed you?”

Jeongin was silent, pensive. He picked up the last coin and slid it into the cash register before saying quietly, “Did I ever tell you about my dad?”

Hyunjin frowned in confusion. “You don’t...talk about your family often.”

“Most of the time, I’d rather not.” Jeongin gave a small smile. “But these days, I keep thinking about them. I know people talk about them behind my back — why a freshman has to work delivery jobs all day, and study all night. Why no one came to visit me in the hospital, except for you.” The younger boy shifted his feet, gaze dropping to his hands. “My dad’s in prison. Third-degree murder.”

Hyunjin’s hands stilled, and Jeongin continued talking. “My mum was your typical office worker — real big company, too. We were never that well off to begin with — maybe that’s why she stayed silent about the...the abuse for so long. About the stuff her higher-ups would do to her behind locked doors, when they’d make her stay overtime in their offices.” Jeongin’s voice wavered, and he cleared his throat shakily. 

“I don’t know how my dad finally found out, I...I could never bring myself to ask.” Jeongin was gripping the count[er, knuckles white and voice barely audible. “I’ve never seen my dad angry before. He doesn’t get angry. He’d always take the short end of the stick with a smile, you know? This was the first time he’d ever...picked a fight with anyone.” Jeongin paused, eyes glazed over in memory. “That night, Mum was staying late again. But this time...my dad showed up at her workplace. Burst in after-hours, like a madman. And that night, neither of them came home.

“The police came knocking on our door the next morning. And they told me my father killed three men in a fight. A fight.” Jeongin looked up at Hyunjin now, smiling, but his crescent eyes were filled with tears. “No one cares about an office woman’s sexual abuse story. Not when you have the families of three rich businessmen bribing law enforcement any way they can to keep their reputations clean. You can guess who the lead prosecutor of the trial was.”

“Prosecutor Kang,” Hyunjin breathed, not daring to believe it, but Jeongin nodded.

“The trial was easy. My dad would spend the rest of his life in prison.”

“That’s not fair,” Hyunjin blurted, voice barely a whisper. “They can’t—it’s not—”

“The system isn’t fair,” Jeongin replied. It sounded like he was quoting someone. “It’s been a long time since the system’s chosen morals over money.”

Hyunjin’s gaze wandered back towards the table, where Woojin was sitting, and thought back to the tense atmosphere between Jeongin and the young police captain earlier. “Is that why you and Captain Kim…”

“His parents put mine in prison. It’s more than a little awkward, really.” Jeongin laughed, but the sound didn’t quite reach his eyes. The younger boy always tried to put on a bright face, Hyunjin realised with a pang, no matter the pain he might be hiding underneath.

“I’m not trying to compare my dad to Jisung. Jisung, everything he’s done…” Jeongin shook his head. “He has too much to make up for, I wouldn’t even know where to start. We all knew that going into this.” He glanced over his shoulder at the table where his friends were seated. “y/n more than anyone. If we make Han Jisung out to be innocent, if we try to get him pardoned...that makes us just as bad as Kang.” Jeongin sighed. “But I can’t just watch them treat him like they did my dad. Make him out to be a psychopath, until even he starts to believe it.

“My mum can’t find work anywhere. She doesn’t sleep, barely eats, never leaves the bed because she’s so sick. The doctors all say she has lifelong trama. I don’t want to watch the system...end another life that doesn’t deserve it.” Jeongin glanced behind him. Hyunjin followed his line of sight towards the table, where everyone was chatting. Jisung’s friends — Felix, Chan, maybe even Woojin; and his girlfriend, you. “I don’t want to see what it does to the people that love him.”

Hyunjin was silent for a long moment. The chatter at the table and the clinking of the coffee mugs seemed like background noise as Jeongin watched the older boy take in everything he had said. Outside, students and citizens were beginning to fill the streets as rush hour approached — it was the end of the school term, and the bustle of summer life was humming beyond the glass windows of Glow Cafe.

Before Hyunjin could respond, though, the cafe doors swung open, the CLOSED sign clattering against the glass in protest and making everyone look up at the sudden commotion. A middle-aged woman in a tweed blazer and pencil skirt was marching straight towards the table you were seated at, a younger woman with a notebook stumbling after her.

Hyunjin straightened up, tone professional despite the weary look on his face. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed today under special circumstances—” 

She cut him off impatiently. “Where is Felix Lee?” 

Bewildered, Felix stood, holding out his hand to attempt a handshake. Instead, the woman reached into her bag and slammed down a newspaper identical to the one you already had on the table — the school paper.

“What is the meaning of this?” Her voice was high and reedy as she jabbed a red-nailed finger onto the front page, where Jisung’s article had been printed. “Who do you think you are to publish these—these baseless stories?”

“With all due respect, ma’am,” you responded tensely, “I think you’ll find that this article contains more truth in it than all the articles the local press has published, combined.” 

She turned on you, sneering in disbelief. “Do you know who I am?” You glanced outside uneasily, where a sleek black car was parked.

“Why do rich people always assume we know who they are? Listen, lady, we don’t care—” Chan began, but was interrupted by a sputtering sound Felix made.

“I think we should care,” your best friend choked out. In his hands was a business card that the woman’s assistant had handed him, and the blood had drained from his freckled face. “She’s the head of the local press.”

Everyone fell silent, and the woman smiled slyly. “Precisely. Publishing articles like these…” she glanced down at the school newspapers on the table, clicking her tongue. “Your school should be ashamed of you. An amateur school newsletter, overstepping their boundaries.” 

You saw Felix’s expression darken at her words, ears red. “A good newspaper reports on all sides of the story. We publish the truth here, and nothing but the truth—”

“Why? So you can all bail your psychopath friend out of prison? Do you even care about the implications? Your truth is hindering the investigation of a convicted murderer. People like him should not get their story told. Your truth will put this town in danger if he walks free, you understand? It will get more people killed.” She fixed Felix with a withering look of contempt. “Let me give you a word of advice, young man, if you even think of surviving in this industry—sometimes, you need to know when to keep your mouth shut.”

Your mouth was burning with countless words to bite back with but your tongue stayed stubbornly tied, mind racing. The woman had spoken out loud what you had all thought of at one point, what you had been most afraid of the public believing. You stole a look at Hyunjin behind the counter. The barista was avoiding eye contact, but you knew he had been thinking the same thing. His stormy, unreadable expression made your stomach churn — you knew he had been the most hesitant and unsure of Jisung’s case out of everyone, but seeing it written on his face now made you feel even worse.

Sensing that things were beginning to get out of control, Woojin cleared his throat. “Ma’am, if you’re finished, I would kindly ask you to leave—”

“I have every right to stay here,” the woman interrupted viciously, snatching up the campus newspaper again, “until your journalist friend revokes these articles—and promises not to interfere with the investigation until the trial has concluded.”

You started in protest. “You—”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” Hyunjin’s calm voice cutting through the growing chaos made everyone freeze and turn towards the barista. He pushed the cash register shut with a bit too much force, and leaned down to rest his forearms on the bar counter. “I told you we were closed, yes? You have no more business here. If you choose to continue infringing on my property, we can bring this to the police.” His eyes were still stormy as he stared the stunned woman down — but the words coming from his mouth were the complete opposite from what you had been expecting. “Now get out of my cafe.”

“I—why, you—” The woman could only sputter for several seconds as you all stared at Hyunjin in awe, the most self-assured expression you had seen on the barista in ages — as if he had finally made up his mind about something. Behind him, Jeongin had a small smile on his face.

“Preposterous,” the head of the press stammered, taken aback by Hyunjin’s bluntness. Her mouth opened and closed like a puppet’s, but no words came out. Finally, glaring daggers at all of you, she snatched her bag and stormed out in a whirlwind of nauseating perfume, her poor assistant barely keeping up behind her.

The silence lasted for several more moments. Hyunjin was still staring after her with a reserved expression, his shaking hazel pupils the only indication of how nervous he was.

Felix was the one who finally spoke first, the wide grin in his voice breaking the tension. “Hwang Hyunjin. You are the man.”

━━━━━━━━

Opening the door to Bang Chan’s office sent clouds of dust into the stale air, and the detective into a coughing fit. Chan moved to snap the blinds open, letting evening sunlight warm the musty room.

“Bloody hell, Chan,” Woojin groaned as he patted the dust from the coffee table in the corner. “I was joking about your office being a coffin before, but—how did you let it get this bad?”

You, Hyunjin, and Jeongin followed the police captain into the room, taking tentative seats around the coffee table as the detective tried in vain to open a window and clear the stuffy air.

“I haven’t had any new clients since this case was taken from me by that damn prosecutor,” Chan protested indignantly, grabbing a notebook and pen. “I’m taking a well-deserved hiatus. B’sides,” he added, sighing, “I don’t exactly have the heart to focus on anything else right now.”

Woojin grimaced, and looked around the room. “We’re waiting on Felix?”

You nodded. It had been nearly a month since the first article had been released — a whole month since the head of the press herself had come storming into Glow Cafe, demanding for the publication to be stopped. You weren’t sure if it had been the woman’s biting remarks or the newfound support from Hyunjin, but Felix seemed to have hit the ground running, publishing story after story and going head-to-head with every article the local press put out. 

The articles were beginning to pick up steam, too — as soon as the school year had ended, the entire town had begun buzzing with talk about the contradicting stories. You should have felt relieved that your last-resort plan had even stood a chance — but the longer the fight and investigation went on, the more you could feel the stress weighing down on your shoulders. Though removed from the investigation, Chan and Woojin came to you with more and more bad news they were able to overhear with each passing day. The trial was scheduled for next week, and you hadn’t heard from Jisung since...well, since you had found him, bloody and broken, in the back lot of Mia’s Diner.

“Things aren’t looking too good,” Woojin began, expression grim. “The prosecution’s claimed custody of the camcorder footage and Jeongin’s Walkman tapes. Seungmin’s legally not allowed to touch them anymore—not without Kang’s permission.”

Your heart plummeted to your stomach at the police captain’s words. You, Chan, and Seungmin had all been warned separately to stay out of the investigation by legal officials, but that hadn’t stopped you from gathering what information you could. You should have known Kang would find a way to get ahold of all the evidence, but nothing could have prepared you for the sick feeling the confirmation stirred in your gut. 

Chan sighed, tapping his pen on his cheek. “Far as I know, Jisung still isn’t taking a lawyer. The kid won’t even talk to me now.”

“How’s the trial going to work, then?” Hyunjin asked. “If the kid doesn’t take an attorney…”

“It’ll be his word against Kang’s,” Chan nodded glumly. “It’s a trial held under special circumstances. The prosecution will present all the evidence they choose, the judge and jury’ll listen to all the witnesses who decide to come forward, and then they’ll use that to form the final verdict.” He paused, then added, “And if Jisung chooses to defend himself, he has the right to speak, too.”

“Except he won’t,” you interjected, heart heavy, remembering Jisung’s face when he had told you about his parents’ deaths. Jisung had spent his entire life living in the shadow of guilt his childhood cast over him, a self-induced hell he forced himself to relive every day.

“Kang has the jury, the witnesses, and the evidence,” Jeongin thought aloud, the sentence alone making the air feel heavy. 

“We’ve all been called to attend the trial, yeah?” Chan nodded at you, Woojin, and Hyunjin. “Us, Felix, and Seungmin can only come as spectators. Jeongin’s been called in as an eyewitness.” He frowned, counting off his fingers. “The only other type of witness Kang can bring in would be an expert witness. Medics, psychologists, that sort of thing.”

“Kang’s clever — he’ll probably bring in child psychologists or medical specialists,” Woojin noted, frowning. “It’d be easy for them to cherry-pick the evidence to use it against Jisung — especially since he refuses to speak to anyone right now.”

“Haven’t they found anyone for Jisung?” You asked desperately. “His old social workers, foster families —”

“He was abandoned over a decade ago. None of his social workers have come forward.” Woojin sighed. “But you’re right — they have found a forensics specialist to come testify.”

Jeongin perked up. “Who?”

Chan looked grim. “Head coroner Lee Minho.”

Your heart sank. Lee Minho. No one was willing to address the elephant in the room: that Minho admitting to his own crimes would be one of the easiest ways to avoid a death penalty. Except…

“No one on the prosecution knows what Minho’s done, and we don’t have any incriminating evidence against him, either. They won’t believe us, and there’s no way he would confess,” you muttered, remembering the uneasy conversation you had had with the coroner on the rooftop. Minho had been hiding in the shadows of Jisung’s self-destructive crossfire his entire life. From the coroner’s unreadable eyes to his strange, reserved attitude, you had no idea how to guess his next move.

There was a knock on the door, and everyone looked up as Felix walked into the office, backpack sliding off one shoulder. “I have good news and bad news,” your best friend announced, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa.

“Bad news first,” you answered immediately, groaning. Good news was rare these days. “I want to get it over with.” Hyunjin nodded in agreement, looking at Felix expectantly.

“The head of the press is still up our asses, believe it or not. She’s changed her strategy —  they’re making bribes now.” Felix fished a slip of paper from his bag. “Someone came in today — dressed real proper and business-like — and told me that if I halted publications, they’d be willing to pay a pretty hefty sum.” He flipped the slip over onto the coffee table.

It was a cheque, you realised. Chan whistled as he read out the amount. You looked back up at Felix, holding your breath.

“I took the bribe,” Felix admitted, tone apologetic, and your shoulders slumped. Your last connection to the investigation, gone — but Felix kept talking, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I took the bribe, and we used the money to buy everyone in our department the most expensive coffee on campus. Actually, thanks to them, we pulled an all-nighter and published the last part of your case study this morni—oof!”

Your best friend was cut off when you tackled him into a hug, nearly tumbling backwards as Felix laughed and patted your back. “Felix,” you declared, voice still shaking from how scared you had been, “You are ruthless.”

“One of my many charms,” he grinned, Hyunjin clapping him on the shoulder. Felix pulled away from you, and his hazel eyes suddenly grew serious as he scanned your face. 

Out of everyone at Miroh Heights, Felix had known you the longest — if anything was wrong with the other person, you were always able to pick up on it. Despite your relieved smile, Felix could see how overworked you were — you had been reading up on past cases nonstop, making phone calls, and making notes on the camcorder footage, no matter how much rewatching it traumatised you to the core. From your bloodshot eyes to your pale lips, anyone could see that the upcoming trial had taken the worst toll on you. “y/n,” he said worriedly, “you need to take it easy.”

You sighed, scrabbling a hand through your dishevelled hair. “How can I? I need to keep working on this — I need to be strong.” 

“You’ve always been strong.” Surprisingly, it was Hyunjin who spoke up this time. For the first time in weeks, there was no more anger or bitterness in his voice — only sincerity. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You tried to give him a small, grateful smile, but even that couldn’t staunch the bubbling anxiety in your gut. “The trial’s in a week. We can’t let up now.”

You could sense the boys looking at you anxiously until Chan finally clapped his hands, breaking the grim silence. “Well, you heard the boss lady.” The detective winked at you. “Let’s get back to work, boys.”

━━━━━━━━

The courthouse lobby was already overflowing with chaos and reporters by the time Prosecutor Kim Seungmin arrived at its doors.

This wasn’t his first time attending a trial, of course, but the scale of it all was what made him uneasy. Citizens of Miroh Heights were huddled outside the gates, catching whatever glimpses of the trial and snippets of information they could. When Seungmin had elbowed his way into the building, he spotted security guards flanking all the entrances.

There was a sign for the bathroom on his left hand side. Seungmin made a beeline for it, pushing open the doors and allowing himself to escape the pandemonium for a couple of moments. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he saw a familiar figure standing by the sink. 

Prosecutor Kang’s eyes met Seungmin’s through the mirror and the older man straightened up, snakelike mouth curving into a smile. “Ah, Prosecutor Kim. Good to see you.”

Seungmin nodded stiffly as he tried to muster up the courage to walk past his colleague. He could feel Kang’s beady eyes watching him contemplatively.

“Are you still beat-up about the case? You must be,” Kang mused, turning back towards the sink and flicking on the tap. “Don’t get yourself too down about losing it. It was only a matter of time.” If Seungmin didn’t look at him, Kang’s tone sounded almost kind.

Almost.

Kang was here on behalf of the prosecution, with his team of carefully selected witnesses and—Seungmin was willing to bet—jurors. Seungmin had barely landed a spot as a spectator in the trial, alongside Felix, the school journalist. If things went Kang’s way, anything and everything that happened in today’s trial would be completely out of Seungmin’s control. 

“Rookie mistakes,” Kang continued, wiping his spectacles. “It’s to be expected at your age, really—”

Seungmin ignored his passive insult and turned back towards Kang, tone pleading as he tried one last time. “Mr. Kang, you don’t have to do this. Han Jisung—”

Kang barked a laugh, cutting him off. Behind his spectacles, his eyes were filled with equal parts amusement and resentment. “I’m not sure why you young people always have such blinded judgement,” he seethed. “He’s a monster.”

“He’s just a boy,” Seungmin shot back, heart pounding at the way surprise flashed on Kang’s face. He had never dared to challenge his colleagues before — especially not Prosecutor Kang — but he forced himself to stand his ground as Kang finally turned around to face Seungmin. He was silent for several tense moments, slowly drying his hands before picking up his briefcase. Then, Kang’s expression smoothed over as he raised an eyebrow at the younger prosecutor. 

“Not in my court of law, he isn’t.”

He had walked briskly out the door before Seungmin could muster a reply. The commotion outside grew louder before it was muffled again by the closing doors, and the younger male was left in the dark, empty washroom, filled with an increasing feeling of dread.

━━━━━━━━

Jisung jerked forward when the prison bus came to an abrupt halt, nearly slamming his head against the front seat. He tried to shake himself out of his daze and turned towards the window, tired eyes adjusting to the morning sunlight. Outside was the town he had grown up in, and yet everything felt so...different. 

As soon as the bus doors swung open, swarms of reporters surrounded its sides. Two policemen roughly escorted him through the crowd, and he could vaguely register the questions being screamed at him from every angle.

“Han Jisung, is it true?”

“Did you kill all those people? Did you set fire to your own home?”

“Will you plead guilty? Will you plead insanity?”

Insanity? Jisung’s mind flashed to the memory lapses every time he...killed, the gaping black spots in his thoughts, the endless throbbing in his temples that never quite went away. His head was swimming, but his body felt numb. Have I gone insane?

Once they were inside, he was ushered further down the hallway into a side room. A stone-faced clerk in a grey suit nodded at the policemen, then fixed his hawk-like eyes on Jisung’s unfocused face.

“This is him?” He asked dubiously, then cleared his throat. He didn’t move to shake Jisung’s hand. “Well, then. You refused to take an attorney or public defender, so, uh...your trial will be held under special circumstances. The judge will hear the witnesses, the evidence, and anything you have to say. Got it, kid?” 

Jisung couldn’t will himself to form any words. Everything sounded as if he were underwater.

The man coughed nervously. “As long as you cooperate, things shouldn’t be too bad, eh? Although from what I’ve heard about you, I wouldn’t keep my hopes up.”

Jisung could sense the official’s eyes raking him up and down in slight distaste at his silence. As Jisung quietly took a seat in the corner, he could hear the man muttering irritatedly to the guard by the door and chuckling.

“It’s always the messed-up kids, huh?”  

━━━━━━━━

You watched as the courtroom slowly filled with people — reporters and spectators huddling around you, clerks and attorneys taking their places in their respective boxes. You were sitting with Bang Chan, Felix, Woojin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin near the bar, watching the members of the jury shuffle in. They were all somewhat familiar faces — students, professors, and citizens, as Bang Chan had guessed — and you felt a small glimmer of hope every time you recognised someone.

The prosecution’s witnesses were beginning to file in on the opposite side of the room, as well: A stocky boy with a swollen, bandaged nose, and a scrawnier one, also heavily bandaged — the only survivors, you realised, shuddering — from that terrible night at Mia’s Diner. Then there was Jeongin, whose face made you relax slightly. Next to him, though, there was a nervous old woman who you didn’t recognise, and an unfamiliar middle-aged man. And of course, pacing back and forth behind them, like a panther on the prowl, was Prosecutor Kang. 

Every time the doors swung open you couldn’t help but look up, heart hammering in your chest. 

You were really only looking for one person, after all.

Sure enough, the heavy oak door in the corner creaked open, and a familiar flash of golden hair made your breath catch in your throat. Flanked by two stone-faced officers, Jisung entered the courtroom. 

You immediately leapt to your feet, and heard Chan whisper in warning. “y/n.”. The detective’s tone was gentle, but you didn’t have to turn back around to imagine the alarmed look on his face. Your eyes were glued on Jisung, and it took every fibre of your being not to sprint up to him, push past the guards, and pull him into your arms. You were shaking with equal parts relief and horror as you took in the sight of him. 

He’d lost weight, his skin was pale and bruised, but his eyes — you felt your mouth go dry. The eyes you had seen fill with both laughter and sadness, light and darkness, were now completely lifeless. As if he wasn’t really seeing anything at all. You felt hot tears prick at the back of your throat and you clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from calling out his name. You had thought you were prepared, that you would force yourself to stay calm at all costs — but now, as the weight of the situation was finally beginning to sink down on your shoulders, you weren’t so sure you would be able to.

You felt Felix’s hand gently tug at yours, the only thing anchoring you to reality, and slowly sat back down, your hands grabbing fistfuls of your cardigan to keep from shaking.

Jisung found you in the crowded courtroom before you did, and the split second he caught your face soothed an ache in his chest he’d been trying to ignore, like a long-neglected wound. Seeing you alive and breathing — when the last memory he had of you had been one where you were bleeding out in his own hands — sent a bittersweet pang through him, the sheer relief overwhelming him to the point that he felt his own knees buckle. To anyone else, you looked almost normal, he thought — but he would have been a fool not to catch the dark circles under your eyes, your shaking hands, the raw worry that had etched itself into your weary features.

As soon as your eyes flickered up to him, Jisung immediately looked away, a voice in the back of his head seething. Coward. 

His gaze wandered around the room and he was instantly met with a mix of hostile glares and fascinated stares — like an animal that had been chained down. Wherever he looked, dozens of eyes were on him, dozens of blazing lights searing through him and pinning him to the spot. It was almost as if he could hear the spectators’ thoughts, the countless names that the local press had called him ringing through his head. The youngest mass murderer of Miroh Heights. A walking psychopath. The soon-to-be-convicted serial killer.

“Order in the court,” you heard a man next to the judge call out, and a hush swept across the room. The judge — a middle-aged woman in sombre black robes —  nodded. “The trial is now in session. The case of Han Jisung, and the Miroh Heights Murders, Your Honour.”

Kang moved forward and cleared his throat.

“Your Honour, today I intend to prove the defendant guilty of nineteen counts of first degree murder, as well as a history of crimes spanning over a period of thirteen years. This includes eight counts of arson, including the defendant’s own home, and five counts of aggravated assault, including the attack of Yang Jeongin three months prior. The numbers are based on the images of the victims we showed him that he recognised.” Kang gave a deliberate pause, flashing a look of disdain over where Jisung was seated. “He has violated Sections 235 and 435 of the Criminal Code, and the prosecution intends to prove him fit to receive capital punishment.”

Capital punishment — the death penalty. Kang was doing exactly what you all had feared, and his words and self-assured attitude made you feel sick. 

“Does the defendant have any opening statements?”

Your eyes flickered to Jisung’s face — had his expression darkened? His features had stiffened into a cold mask — lifeless eyes, sickly pallor, clenched jaw. It was almost as if he was trying to fit into Kang’s description of him, you realised with a sinking feeling. To your dismay, Jisung stayed silent, and the judge cleared her throat.

“Please call upon your first witness.”

You watched the nervous old woman from earlier wobble forward and introduce herself.

Kang had pulled out images of a familiar crime scene — the burnt-down flat on the outskirts of town, where the remains of a woman identified as a local sex worker had been found. The night of your first date, you thought, grimacing.  “Where were you, the night of this fire?”

“I was making my rounds through this neighbourhood,” the old woman began, fingers trembling as she pointed at the images. “I happen to live ‘round there, and I own some of these flats myself. This woman is—was—a tenant of mine.”

“Did you see anything suspicious prior to the fire?”

The old lady paused. “I thought I saw a boy lingering ‘round the alleyways. Holding his head and stumbling around real bad, pacing back ‘n forth like he couldn’t see clearly. ‘twas near the red-light district, so I thought he was just another drunkard.”

“Could you point to the boy you saw, stumbling through the alleyways?”

The old woman slowly pointed at Jisung.

“And what did you see, at around 10 o’clock, sundown?”

“I-I saw the roofs in my neighbourhood go up in flames. Ran as quick as I could, but the blaze was already too big to stop —” She shuddered. “But through the smoke, I could see the figure of a boy in the fire, escapin’ from the house.”

“Could you point to the boy you saw escaping the burning building?”

You watched in muted dread as she lifted another quivering finger in Jisung’s direction.

“There’s no way she could have seen clearly through all that smoke and fire,” you heard Woojin mutter behind you.

“Your tenant had no prior connection to him — no negative relations beforehand, correct?” 

The old woman nodded. “Not that I know of.”

Prosecutor Kang hummed. “We have no reasons to believe this murder was provoked by the victim. And yet, that night, Han Jisung set fire to an innocent woman’s home — in cold blood. She was an outcast, no family or friends — he likely chose a victim that wouldn’t be missed.” He smiled, turning towards the judge. “That is all for the eyewitness, Your Honour.”

You grit your teeth as the old woman sat back down. Kang had called on his next witness — a chubby, red-nosed man who introduced himself as a child psychiatrist.

“The defendant refused to answer questions during the psychological evaluation,” Kang informed the judge smoothly. “We researched his past thoroughly—”

“Bullshit,” Felix muttered.

“—and reached our conclusions by analyzing the nature of his criminal history during his adolescence. We will also be consulting—” Kang motioned for the two boys to step forward, “His former classmates, who will testify on Mr. Han’s character.”

“He’s insane,” Chan whispered in horror, “He’s letting the kids from the diner attack testify on Jisung’s mental condition?”

“Please state your affiliation with the defendant.”

“We grew up in the same orphanage,” the boy in the buzzcut answered, his voice thick from his swollen nose. “Kid always stuck out like a sore thumb.”

“Did the defendant ever exhibit any strange behaviours during his adolescence?” Kang asked.

“He’d be missing from classes for days,” the scrawny boy piped up. “Always hoverin’ in the corner like a little creep. Sometimes even lightin’ things on fire. Never got in trouble though — always real charming towards the teachers.” 

“Changed his expressions like masks,” the boy in the buzzcut added quickly.

Kang turned towards the child psychiatrist. “How would you describe the mental condition of a patient like Mr. Han, taking these testimonies and the defendant’s criminal history into account?”

“W-well,” the red-faced man began, sweaty brow furrowing. “Starting with his unexplained history of pyromanic tendencies — this destructive behaviour indicates the patient harboured violent habits from a young age. That’s often a strong indicator of various conduct disorders in young children.”

“But isn’t it normal for children to be curious, to cause a little trouble?” Kang smiled — he was playing the devil’s advocate, you realised uneasily. “You surely can’t sum up his fascination with fire as a dangerous condition.”

The psychiatrist nodded. “Of course not. But the patient was able to shift between personas from a very young age — like his classmates have said, he could be cold and reserved to them, but charming and cunning towards authority figures. This constant deception in young children, along with the destructive tendencies, is what often leads to sociopathic behaviour.”

“Sociopathy,” Kang repeated, and turned towards the judge. “Oh, dear.”

You looked on in dismay as Kang kept twisting the case like the strings of an ugly puppet, clearly aware of the way the jury and spectators were beginning to lean towards the prosecution’s arguments. With Kang’s carefully crafted questions directed at nervous, unsuspecting witnesses, everything seemed to point to one obvious answer. Han Jisung was a guilty serial murderer, there could be no question of it. Even the testimonies were beginning to blur together:

He went all psycho on us. 

Laughing like some maniac, like he enjoyed it. 

Murdered my friends for no reason. 

At this rate, you didn’t stand a chance.

Kang needed one more witness — one more witness was all it would take for the trial to shift completely in his favour, and for you to finally lose hope. You looked around the room in desperation and spotted Minho seated on the prosecution’s side, the coroner’s smooth and mask-like expression doing nothing to calm your frazzled nerves. His words from the rooftop rang in your head, sending chills down your spine.

There is little you can do with people who don’t want to be helped, y/n. You’re just like how I was. 

Was that why Minho had cooperated with the prosecution? Because he thought that Jisung was already beyond saving? As if he could feel your gaze burning into him, Minho’s eyes darted upwards to meet yours. You were startled to find that there was something unfamiliar in his expression; something that hadn’t been there the last time you’d met him — like a crack in a mask, a ripple in smooth water. Before you could decipher what it was, you heard Kang’s haughty voice calling Minho up to the stand, and the coroner turned away.

“Please state your name and status.”

“Lee Minho, forensic pathologist and head coroner of the Miroh Heights murder cases.”

“Could you describe the autopsy results of the confirmed victims?” Kang held up a remote and projected images of various crime scenes onto a screen. An uneasy murmur rippled through the jury and spectators at the graphic images — some, like the burned body of the woman, and caved-in skull of the man at the Yellow Wood, you recognized, but there were several more you never had the courage to look at before.

Minho glanced at the photos Kang had projected onto the screen, expression unchanging. You remembered his oddly empty smile when you had first met him, when you had asked him if the endless rows of corpses ever made him uncomfortable.

“I’m sure it did, at some point. Sooner or later, they all start to look the same.”

“Yes. Well, as you can see, the victims’ bodies almost always showed signs of excessive force and trauma. Victim #1, Na Jangmin, was pronounced dead on scene from smoke inhalation and respiratory burns from the combustion of various chemicals found in the science laboratory.” Minho pointed to a gruesome image of a peeling, shrivelled corpse that made your skin crawl.

“Victim #2, Park Beomsoo. Died from asphyxiation. The victim had a high dosage of flunitrazepam — Rohypnol — in his system prior to his death.”

“And what is Rohypnol, Mr. Lee?” Kang interjected.

“It’s a powerful tranquilizer drug. Small amounts are sold as sleeping pills, but high concentrations can cause paralysis, or even loss of consciousness. It’s a common date rape drug.”

“Did the victim consume the drug of their own accord?”

“The concentration is too high to have been used as a sleeping pill dosage. The victim’s time of death was around noon, on campus, so there would have been no reason to for him to consume the drug. We detected traces of food in Park’s body along with the drug, but we don’t know where the drug came from.”

Kang turned towards the judge triumphantly. “Shortly after the drug took effect, the victim was pronounced dead. This was a premeditated crime. The defendant drugged the victim’s food, and slowly suffocated Park Beomsoo to death. Taking the defendant’s mental condition into consideration, Your Honour—” Kang gave a meaningful nod, a dark glint in his hawklike eyes, “I would argue that the defendant may have enjoyed the process of committing the murder.”

It took the last ounce of your self-control not to leap up from your chair at his words. Seemingly unfazed, Minho kept talking. “You can also find strange correlations between the victims. We always deduce signs of brute force exerted, and a pattern of victims: people with a history of abuse, adultery, and harassment. You could say that this killer...hunted killers.”

“The defendant’s M.O., Your Honour,” Kang added, nodding. “The constant pattern of victims and killing styles confirm that these were premeditated murders, habitual murders.”

You felt your heart sink, feeling sick. Beside you, Woojin had his head in his hands. Your last hope had gone down the drain. You should have known the coroner would play along, that he would never give himself in; that Lee Minho was the type to always save his own skin before saving others’— 

“However,” Minho spoke up again, “I’d like to add that all the crime scenes are also always impeccably clean. We observed minimal blood spattering, DNA evidence, and even fingerprints. Some wounds on the victims’ corpses didn’t match the hypothesised murder weapons, and were ready to become cold cases.” 

“Evidence that the perpetrator of these murders was also able to plan their clean-up afterwards,” Kang flashed the coroner a strange look. “Ladies and gentlemen, this only shows that the killer is meticulous and calculated in his attacks. As I’ve said, this is an insidious, long-seasoned killer we have on our hands—”

“You might be wondering why the evidence for this case is so scattered,” Minho’s mild voice cut him off, and Kang looked irritated at the sudden interruption but let the coroner continue. “Why the killings are so sporadic, always occurring at irregular intervals.” He paused, thinking. “Why nothing seems to fit together.”

It took several moments for his words to hit you, and you lifted your head in disbelief.

What? You turned to your friends, who all looked equally confused. 

What is he trying to say?

“I remember recording that the deduced weapon at the Yellow Wood attacks was a hammer, or crowbar.” Minho nodded at the papers in the Judge’s hands. “That’s not true.”

All the heads in the room seemed to snap up in shock at the coroner’s blunt words. You felt your breath stop, and looked over at Chan, whose expression was just as stunned.

“The weapon of choice was actually a stone from the Yellow Wood,” Minho shrugged. The coroner set down the papers Prosecutor Kang had handed him, turning to face the jury. “If you dig around in the lake outside Miroh Heights Hospital, you might be able to find it. Then there’s the vodka from the fire, the knocked-over chemicals in the science laboratory, a janitor’s rope from the rooftop. They were all impulsive weapon choices,” Minho nodded at the judge, “all from the scene of the crime. As if the perpetrator had chosen it on the spot, in a fleeting moment of impulsive judgment.”

You saw Kang sputtering behind him, mouth opening and closing uselessly. The Judge was evidently taken aback, too, peering at Minho from over her half-moon glasses. “What are you trying to say, Mr. Lee?”

“That it should be obvious that these crimes were almost never premeditated.” Minho glanced at the pictures of the crime scene. His voice was quiet — nearly inaudible — but exasperated, as if he were surprised at the words coming out of his own mouth. The entire room seemed to be leaning forward, listening to his words with bated breath. “They were done in the heat of the moment, and someone else had to tamper with the evidence afterwards.”

“How could you possibly know—”

“Because I’m the one who’s been cleaning up after Han Jisung for the past thirteen years.” 

Your mouth dropped open in shock as a hush fell over the room, reporters gasping and scribbling in their notepads. Minho had a small smile on his face as he took in the entire room’s response — how everyone had fallen quiet, speechless at the sudden turn the trial had taken. The smile wasn’t gloating or cruel, you realised slowly. It was filled with a simple curiosity and wonder, like a child who had finally tried something new for the first time. 

Even Jisung had looked up, his eyes widened in surprise. “Minho—” His voice was raw from disuse as he called out to his first friend, his oldest friend —  but Minho only smiled at him and shook his head slightly.

The room was shifting uneasily around him. He should have been scared, Minho thought. He could already feel lies instinctively forming on his tongue, a thousand ways he could backpedal and take back what he had just said. It had become second nature to him, he realised — covering up murders first, and his own emotions second; the two things he had always feared the most. He could hear Kang angrily stammering and calling his name behind him, but Minho ignored him.

The judge cleared her throat unsteadily, fixing her piercing gaze on him. “Why are you doing this? You are aware that a confession like this will lose you much more than your job? That it may very well condemn you to a lifetime in prison?”

“I’m aware,” Minho replied softly, eyes wandering across the room and landing on Jisung’s distraught face. The boy he had clung onto as his only family, the boy who he had both loved and feared for thirteen years. There was nothing left for him to lose. “I thought for the longest time that covering the murders were my own twisted way of...saving the boy. I don’t think I had the courage in me to do much else.” He looked around the courtroom, and his eyes finally landed on you. The girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, but was strong enough to challenge him with a steady voice and blazing eyes. The girl who was an unapologetic contradiction, he remembered, almost fondly. The girl who had reminded him what it was like to be brave, to finally start living for himself.

Yes, he thought. This was the least he could do.

“Han Jisung had nothing to do with the cover-ups of the crime scenes,” Minho raised his voice, surprised at the strength in it. Behind him, he could hear the prosecution stirring, and felt two security guards seize his arms to remove him from the podium. “He is not the depraved killer the prosecution wants you to think—”

“Your Honour, this must be a set-up between the coroner and the defendant,” Kang cut him off furiously, shooting Minho a death glare behind his spectacles. The murmuring of the jury and reporters drowned out the coroner’s last words as he was dragged from the room. “Your Honour, do not be deceived—”

“Order in the court!” The judge banged the gavel repeatedly, holding her head in her hand as if she had a migraine. “The—the coroner’s statements will be deemed faulty, and Lee Minho will be dealt with separately. The trial will continue.”

The silence that settled over the room after the coroner’s outburst was eerie. You could feel your heart still pounding, mind racing over the words Minho had shouted over Kang’s, the almost wistful smile on his face as he let the guards drag him from the room. The coroner had been a wildcard, you thought uneasily, your gut churning with a cocktail of anticipation and anxiety. There was no telling which way the trial would go from here.

“Does the prosecution have any other witnesses?” The judge called out, and you saw Jeongin finally stand up. Words and whispers began flying as he made his way forward to the witness box, the citizens recognising the delivery boy immediately. You glanced over at Kang, who looked more relaxed than ever — and you knew why. Everything from Jisung’s camcorder footage to Jeongin’s salvaged Walkman tapes had either been confiscated by the prosecution, or were in Seungmin’s hands. Kang had been meticulous making sure that the younger prosecutor had no power over the case, banning him from interfering with the investigation for good. 

Which meant that all Jeongin had to sway the jury was his own verbal testimony. One young boy’s word against Prosecutor Kang’s. 

“State your name and status.”

“Yang Jeongin. Um, student at Miroh Heights University.”

Kang looked down at his papers, then back up at the judge. “On the night of the Yellow Wood attacks, Yang Jeongin was biking home after closing shift before he was brutally attacked by the defendant with a blow to the skull. He is the only living witness that has come forward to testify, and the only person who witnessed the defendant’s attack firsthand. Luckily, he was able to regain consciousness after the horrific attack.” He turned towards Jeongin, smiling triumphantly. “What he has to say may well turn the entire case upside down.”

He was clearly expecting Jeongin to give away evidence against Jisung, you realised. After they had told Jeongin that his tapes had been withdrawn from the investigation, the delivery boy had hit a dead end in his testimony. No matter what he said, Kang would be able to find a way to use it against Jisung. Sure enough, he was watching the young boy now like a vulture, ready to pick him apart.

But Jeongin only smiled back at Kang. “Actually, it’s not what I have to say, sir.” When the prosecutor’s face contorted in confusion, Jeongin continued, “It’s the things that you’ve said.”

Before Kang could reply, Jeongin reached into his pocket and pulled out something silver. The guards instantly moved forward, but Jeongin set it onto the clerk’s table, motioning for him to take it. After several moments, the low crackle of speakers connecting began filling the tense silence, and you realised what it was that Jeongin had brought with him. 

A voice recorder.

“He didn’t tell anyone to make sure it wouldn’t get confiscated, too,” Chan realised, eyes widening. “Smart kid. But what could he have possibly recor—”

The detective’s awed voice was drowned out by a recording of another very familiar voice.

“Kim Seungmin. As you may have heard, the serial killer — ah, the Han Jisung case, I could say — has been transferred to me.”

Prosecutor Kang.

The room froze. When you looked at Kang, you saw that all the blood had drained from his face.

“Now, now — don’t feel too ashamed, Kim. Everyone makes rookie mistakes. They may have assigned the wrong case to you, but rest assured — it’s in proper hands now.”

“Is it?”

You winced, peeking at Seungmin beside you when you heard his voice on the recording as well. Seungmin had never mentioned the way Kang treated him to anyone, and the younger prosecutor’s jaw was clenched, but his eyes were blazing. 

Still, you weren’t exactly sure why Jeongin was playing a recording of Kang and Seungmin’s conversation. What could he have possibly overheard, that made him look so confident now?

“Have something to say to me, Kim?”

“I’ve just — never understood the way you handled cases, sir.”

“Seungmin.” You could almost see the condescending look on Kang’s face. “Allow me to share a word of advice. They won’t teach you this in law school.”

Seungmin watched realisation flash across Kang’s face like he had been struck by lightning, but it was too late.

“Your job as a prosecutor is not to judge the defendant fairly.”

“Wh—”

“If you want a smooth career...all you need to do is make sure you’re appealing to the right people. In other words, listen to what the public wants. Please the public; don’t waste a single damn about the defendant. You spent all your precious time worrying your little head over the killer’s motives, and now that we finally have him, you’re still worrying over the severity of his sentence? Murder is murder, Kim Seungmin, and actions speak louder than motives. You can show lenience towards a mass-murderer, or you can sweep his sorry past under the rug and bring closure to dozens of families. Which would make you a richer, more popular man?”

“Your Honour,” Kang stammered, face white, “This is—improper use of evidence, this shouldn’t—” The recording cut him off again, the judge’s face stony as she motioned for the clerk to keep going.

“Is that how you got to where you are?”

“Think, boy. As far as anyone needs to be concerned, the cold-blooded killer is caught, peace is re-established, families are soothed, justice is served once again — and I come out the hero. You saw that boy’s wretched past. Even he can’t handle it. So why poke at wounds that aren’t meant to be re-opened?”

You didn’t realise how hard you were clenching your fists until you felt your palms sting from your nails. The entire room seemed to be holding its breath. Kang looked stricken, pale mouth opening and closing frantically like a fish out of water, but no words were coming out.

“You think you’re being kind? Justice isn’t meant to be kind, Kim. Make up the easiest case to solve, and do everyone a favour.”

The judge stopped the tape, her face livid. The room had gone deadly silent, your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. ““Your job as a prosector is not to judge the defendant fairly?”” 

Kang could only shake his head wildly as she continued, raising her voice, ““Make up the easiest case to solve, and do everyone a favour?” From a faulty forensics expert to this — Prosecutor Kang, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Your Honour, I—” Kang sputtered out, beady eyes darting around furiously — at Jisung, and at Jeongin. “L-lies! It’s all lies, this is absurd!” He laughed, trying to make himself sound nonchalant, but his voice was weak. “This must be a—a fabrication perpetrated by the defendant—” The room was erupting in chaos now, the jury and reporters bickering amongst themselves. 

You had never seen the prosecutor so worked up before as he continued to protest frantically, “Your Honour, the defendant must have coerced the victim to do this, to—to frame me. Please listen to me, we must conduct another investigation—”

There was a deafening bang as the Judge slammed the gavel down, making the room jump. “There will be no investigation,” she thundered. “Prosecutor Kang, you are hereby removed from the Han Jisung case.” 

Kang leapt up from his seat as officers appeared on either side of the prosecutor, seizing his thrashing arms. “Let go of me! Your Honour! Your Honour, you cannot do this. Han Jisung must be condemned — you cannot let this murderer walk free—”

“Silence!” The judge bellowed, and the last of Kang’s words were drowned out, the heavy oak doors banging shut as he was thrown from the room. Jeongin looked evidently shaken. He had been right. His last existing recording — the unlikely trump card — had flipped the case on its head. You heard frenzied whispers all around you as your heartbeat pounded erratically in your chest. 

“Does this mean the prosecutor’s been fabricating all the evidence? Who can we trust now?”

“I’ve never seen a case like this before.”

“What’s going to happen to the trial now that the lead prosecutor’s been detained?”

The banging of the gavel eventually brought the restless audience to a strained silence. The Judge looked weary. “We need to take an emergency intermission. The trial...will recommence shortly.”

━━━━━━━━

You let the sea of people push you through the courtroom’s double doors, your legs threatening to collapse at any moment. Outside was hardly a breath of fresh air — all around you, cameras were flashing, reporters were gossiping, and officials were arguing. You tried to focus — to process what had happened, but the incessant buzzing of people chattering around you made your head pound so hard you swore your skull was splitting.

A firm hand on your shoulder yanked you out of your migraine, and you whipped around to see Hyunjin. You let out a small sigh of relief. 

“Hey, it might be good to get out of this crowd for a bit,” Hyunjin said, taking in your exhausted expression worriedly. “I, uh, lost everyone, but if we step outside—”

Before he could finish, you both caught sight a blond head bobbing towards you in the sea of people. Felix pushed through, cradling his camera for dear life. His freckled face was sweaty and breathless. 

“Kang—Kang’s lost all power,” he gasped out when he reached you. “Detective Bang’s managed to convince the guards to let him talk to Jisung for a few minutes—”

You had already seized your best friend by the shoulders and spun him around. He instantly got the message and the three of you began elbowing through the hordes of people, Felix leading the way.

The clamour died down to a quiet hum as you reached the hallways, Felix ushering you past an OFF-LIMITS sign. The corridors were nearly empty now, and the three of you sprinted to the end until you reached a heavy oak door. It was slightly ajar. You caught a glimpse of Jisung’s expressionless face through the dim crack, and your hand hesitated on the door handle. 

“I told you and Woojin I wouldn’t give you any counter evidence.” Jisung’s voice was cold and lifeless. 

“And you didn’t.” You could hear the growing agitation in Chan’s voice as the detective pleaded. “But you’ve got to listen to me. More people want you — need you — to keep living, more than you give yourself credit for.”

“Stop, Chan. You don’t have to do this anymore—”

“Han Jisung.” You couldn’t help his name falling from your lips, voice louder than you’d intended as you threw open the heavy door. The guards rushed to block you before you could get any closer, but you pushed back, forcing Jisung to meet your eyes. His were flat, dark, horribly cold.

“y/n,” he replied softly, and you felt your heart break.

“Why are you doing this?” You fought to keep your voice steady. “You have the right to speak for yourself. Defend yourself. You know what they’re saying isn’t true. So why are you letting them keep accusing you?”

“How do you know it isn’t true?” Jisung laughed humourlessly, shaking his head. “Don’t lie to yourself. I did kill all those people, and you know that.”

“I do. But you’re not the psychopath Kang is making you out to be,” you protested. “I know you.” 

“You don’t.” Jisung’s voice was bitter. “You don’t, actually. I’ve always — always hidden parts of myself from you. What you’re hearing from Kang is the closest you’ll ever get. He — he knows me better than I know myself.” He smiled weakly, but it fell flat. “I’ve always been like this, drawn to murder and blood and fire. It can’t be fixed.”

Each one of his words pierced through you like bullets, and you searched his face frantically for a sign, anything left of the rain-drenched, smiling boy from the diner; the wounded, soft-hearted boy you had fallen in love with. Your heart was hammering in your throat as a horrible question echoed through your head. 

Did he mean it?

It was as if Jisung had pulled on a mask, you thought. His face was absolutely still — but for a fleeting moment, you could swear you saw a flash of pain

No.

You had grown to know him, grown to know that he was the kind of boy who was willing to play the part of a depraved monster, just so you would push him away first. 

Jisung stared back at you, and for once, the darkness in his wide eyes no longer scared you. Instead, endless memories were flashing through your mind.

Jisung making you laugh until you choked on Chinese food, and apologising profusely for hours afterwards.

Jisung spilling pancake batter all over your kitchen counter, and feeding you blueberries to make sure you didn’t notice.  

Jisung, holding you in his arms until you fell asleep, hands as gentle as if he thought you were made of glass. 

“You need to go,” Jisung broke your long silence. “Stop hurting yourself. You need to let me go.”

You looked up, taking in his slumped shoulders, the note of defeat in his voice, the facade he had pulled on during the trial, and everything hit you all at once. Maybe it was the stress of the weeks leading up to trial or your hatred towards Kang had finally reached its breaking point. Either way, an overwhelming feeling of sheer frustration was washing away the anxiety that had been thrumming in your veins for weeks, and it left in its place an unbearable, burning anger.

You felt yourself push past the guards as if in slow motion, a voice in your head telling you that maybe this wasn’t the best idea — and slapped your boyfriend across the face.

The slap wasn’t hard, but the sound that rang through the room felt deafening.

“Han Jisung, you are such an idiot,” you yelled. Guards immediately surrounded you, dragging you backwards, but you didn’t take your eyes off Jisung. He was staring at you, stunned,  the stone-cold facade he had put on earlier now cracked wide open. “What do you think you’re solving this way? Do you know how many people have been working nonstop to make sure you don’t get yourself killed?” You could feel hot tears of frustration spilling onto your cheeks. “Your friends want you to stay alive. Your mother wanted you to stay alive. I need you to stay alive.” Your voice was hoarse as you screamed over the guards pushing you out of the room, and the heavy door swung shut with a deafening bang. 

The silence in the hallway seemed to swallow you up, the weight of what you had just said and done crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. You felt your knees finally buckle as you sank to the ground, burying your face in your arms and finally letting all your pent-up tears fall freely. 

Hyunjin and Felix were by your side, exchanging worried looks as they patted your back gingerly. You weren’t sure exactly how long the three of you stayed like that, your exhausted body racking with frustrated, mortified sobs, until you heard footsteps running down the corridor towards you.

“There you are— I’ve been looking for you guys for—” Kim Woojin’s breathless voice made you look up, and the captain did a double take. “Bloody hell, what happened?”

You wiped your reddened eyes furiously as Felix shook his head at the police captain, who was kind enough to take the hint.

“The thing is —” Woojin began again, tripping over his words. It was the first time you had seen the police captain so frantic. “It’s — it’s an emergency situation right now. A mistrial. The head prosecutor’s been thrown off the case, people are rioting—”

“This is a fucking mess,” Hyunjin muttered, but Woojin shook his head.

“No, it’s not,” the police captain exclaimed excitedly, “Not for us. They’re calling for a prosecutor who’s familiar with Jisung’s case to step up, asap. If there’s any prosecutor who was also working on the case—”

As if on cue, the intercom buzzed above you, making you jolt. “The court hearing for Han Jisung and Miroh Heights Murders will be resuming in five minutes. All attorneys, jurors, and participants of the trial, please report to the courtroom immediately—”

“Seungmin,” you, Felix, and Hyunjin all said simultaneously, and Woojin nodded. Felix was already pulling you to your feet, and the four of you broke into a run towards the courtroom.

[cyhyr]

Summer of Whump Day 25: Isolation

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: G

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi & Umino Iruka, pre-relationship

WC: ~2000

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: Depression. Self-isolation.

A/N: This is sad, but it's also oddly sweet in the end?

~

Naruto leaves to train with Jiraiya and Iruka is happy for him, he really is. He’s happy that he’s with one of the strongest shinobi of their time, that Jiraiya-sama is going to keep them moving and keep Naruto safe from the Akatsuki. He’s happy that Naruto made time to see him before they left, and that he promised to write as much as Jiraiya deems it to be safe.

Really, he’s happy.

That doesn’t mean that he’s not…

Upset? No, that’s not right.

Within two weeks, Iruka stops going out after work. He packs up his bag and locks up his classroom, and when the other teachers wave him down and ask if he’d like to join them for drinks he says something like, “I appreciate the offer, but I have a lot of grading. Maybe next time?” And then next time comes around and he shakes them off again. After five or six attempts, his co-workers stop asking. Iruka’s not sure if he’s relieved or not.

Anko tries to invite herself over, but Iruka denies her entry, stating that he hasn’t cleaned.

“What? That’s never stopped us hanging out before! C’mon, Ruka, I’ve got beer and bad movies! It’s Friday night!”

But, no, he really hasn’t cleaned in… How long has it been since Naruto left? He closes the door, begging off that he just doesn’t feel up to it tonight. “Maybe next week?”

Anko tries again for the next three weeks. Iruka changes the wards and locks after she breaks in when he denies her the fourth time. She doesn’t try again after that.

And then the Academy goes on a month-long break. He sees Izumo and Kotetsu at the Desk, where he assists four afternoons each week. They talk over him and try to pull him into their conversations, but he does his work and then goes home without exchanging a word with either of them. He gets enough socialization from yelling at the shinobi who think that because he’s… low… means his standards for accepting mission reports have also dropped.

They haven’t. That news gets around quickly enough.

Tsunade-sama asks if he’d like to take on extra shifts or duties. He tells her he doesn’t have the time. It’s not wrong; but also, it’s not time he’s missing, not really. She looks at him oddly, but accepts his answer. Shizune gives him a folder of paperwork to peruse at home, just in case he changes his mind?

(She lied. The “paperwork” is informational pamphlets on empty nest syndrome, depression, and self-isolating. Iruka burns them all. He doesn’t leave himself in a room with just the two of them again.)

He’s only working enough to keep the lights on and put rice in the pantry. The rest of his time is spent curled up on his bed, staring into the abyss of his bedroom. Over the next week he uses up every other bit of food in his home, even the emergency ration bars in his closet. Anything to not have to leave the house unnecessarily and see everyone’s pity.

He’s not…

He’s happy for Naruto.

He’s not even related to Naruto. He can’t have empty nest syndrome because Naruto never lived with him!

Iruka absolutely doesn’t cry himself to sleep. Because he’s happy, damnit.

~

Iruka stops going to work. He can hardly make himself get out of bed anymore. He uses the toilet and makes a pot of rice once every other day, eating it cold between fresh pots. Tea is too much work, even though a niggling part of him that sounds like Sandaime-sama says that fresh, hot tea would do wonders for his mood. Instead he’s drinking only water from the tap and barely remembering to wash his cup afterwards.

Izumo and Kotetsu come over and knock repetitively on both his front door and his bedroom window. Iruka stays in bed and ignores them. He can’t take their pity anymore.

He wants desperately to be with his friends, but more than that he wants to want to be with them.

There’s laundry all over his bedroom floor, and he’s not sure how that happened because he’s been wearing the same uniform for—days? Weeks? The apartment is a mess, but how because he stays in bed all day except to eat or use the toilet.

His body aches.

He stares at a picture taken of him and Naruto after his back injury had healed. It has a place of honor on his nightstand, next to his perpetually empty rice bowl and glass of room-temperature water.

Maybe… maybe, in the solitude of his own home, he can admit that he’s a little bit sad that Naruto’s gone.

~

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. He doesn’t remember waking up.

He exists in an odd between-state; the worst part is that he exists.

Every breath hurts. Naruto’s smile lights up his room from his nightstand, but it’s the only beacon he has left.

The knocking starts up again an hour before he’s supposed to report to the Desk. It continues, again, six hours later. Both times, he tunes it out. He’s not ready.

~

Kakashi clutches the letter in his hand and looks up at the apartment complex. Naruto had been gone just over a month and already sent a letter trying to hide how much he misses everyone. But in his very last post-script, he asked Kakashi to do something…

Please check in on Iruka-sensei for me. He’s really good at hiding how he’s feeling, even if it includes hiding himself away.

And, well, Naruto can’t have known about the tiny crush Kakashi’s been harboring for Iruka since he stood up to him at the chūnin exam nominations almost a year ago. But he can do this for his student.

So he steps up to Iruka’s door and knocks. And instead of the door he knocked on opening, the neighbor’s does.

“What’s all this again—oh, you’re new,” the woman says.

“Ah, yes, I suppose,” Kakashi stammers. “I’ve been off on a mission and just got back. Do you know if he’s home?”

She scoffs. “He doesn’t leave anymore.”

Shit.

“His friends stopped trying to get him to open the door three days ago. Blessed silence, for once.”

“My apologies, for disturbing you,” he says. He places a hand on the door and gently tugs at the wards. They’re strong—stronger than what a chūnin schoolteacher should bother having, but not strong enough that he can’t break through. “I’ll be only a minute longer.”

“See that you are,” the woman shuffles back inside. “It’s been wonderful since Umino stopped bringing the Fox around. No screeching.”

Kakashi wills himself to ignore her and turn back to Iruka’s door. The neighbor’s door clicks shut, and so he pulls up his hitai-ate and looks at the wards with the sharingan. It takes him a careful three minutes of chakra manipulation to undo them, but soon the wards fall and Kakashi turns the handle.

Unlocked.

The apartment is… cluttered? It could use a quick clean-up, definitely. There’s this layer of dust on many of the hard surfaces, and the floors could use a mop. But at first glance, it doesn’t look like some homes he’s stepped into holding depressed people.

A quick look in the kitchen shows much more evidence of Iruka hiding something. Dishes overflow the sink, the stove top has burned grains of rice stuck in places, and an overwhelming bland smell permeates the air. He steps in quickly and checks the fridge, sighing. There’s a few condiment bottles, but other than that there was only a container of rice in the middle shelf.

He’s torturing himself. Kakashi wonders if he’s aware of this.

There are three doors at the end of a short hallway outside of the living room. One, on the right, is a bathroom. The other, the left one, he can tell is the “spare” room Naruto claims is his—there’s a ramen poster pinned to the door, and while he remembers that Iruka is also very fond of ramen, he feels he can say with surety that Iruka wouldn’t decorate with ramen-themed posters.

This leaves the center door at the very end. He knocks twice before opening the door slowly.

Here is where the depression has settled, clearly.

Here is where Iruka is laid out on his side, curled slightly towards his nightstand. His hair is down, streaming across his pillow in clumps. There are clothes all over the floor; Kakashi wonders if any of them are clean. Probably not; he’ll assume not. There are ration bar wrappers near the bedside and empty dishes scattered around.

He’s torn. Should he clean up and then rouse Iruka; or talk to Iruka and then ask if he wants help cleaning up?

Kakashi tries to remember what he was like after losing… but it’s not the same, is it? It’s never the same. Every loss, every kind of loss, hits differently.

He steps over dirty clothes and kicks aside food wrappers. He kneels down beside Iruka’s nightstand and pushes aside a clump of hair that had fallen over his face. Iruka’s eyes are red-rimmed, sunken, and worst of all, cold.

“Naruto sent me,” he starts with, hoping it will get a reaction. It doesn’t. He follows Iruka’s gaze to a picture of the two of them, taken a week or so after Naruto became genin. How had he never noticed that Iruka and Naruto have the same wide smile? Naruto must have picked it up from Iruka.

“He was worried that you would hide away how you’re feeling,” Kakashi continues. “I suppose he was right to worry.”

No response.

“You can’t keep isolating yourself, sensei,” he says. “It’s not healthy.”

An answer, finally, comes softly. “Okay.”

Kakashi narrows his eye. “Okay?”

Iruka shrugs.

“Iruka, do you even know what day it is?”

Iruka shrugs again.

Kakashi carefully reaches out to touch him. Iruka flinches at the contact, but allows it. He pleads, “You need to go outside.”

“People stare,” he mutters. “Don’t want their pity.”

“I’ll keep them from looking at you,” Kakashi says.

“How?”

“I can be fairly intimidating when I want to be.” Kakashi puts his hand on top of Iruka’s. His skin is dry and cracked on his fingertips. “Will you come with me?” he asks.

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

Iruka blushes. “I... I don’t have anything clean to wear.”

Kakashi smiles. “That’s an easy fix. We’ll make a plan and do it later, after the laundry is done.”

“I don’t have the energy to—”

“I’ll take care of it,” he waves his other hand. “Why don’t you go clean up?”

Iruka squeezes his eyes shut tight and his shoulders shake minutely. “I think my hair’s a loss,” he sniffs. “I’d have to cut it off and I—”

“Iruka, please,” Kakashi interrupts. He leans in and presses his masked lips to the back of Iruka’s hand. “No more excuses. Please, try for me? For Naruto? He’d hate to see you like this. I hate to see you like this. If you need your hair cut, I’ll cut it. If you need fresh clothes, I’ll wash them. If you need groceries, I’ll buy them. I want to help you. Please let me help you.”

Iruka doesn’t open his eyes for a long time, but he also doesn’t pull away. Kakashi waits. And when the nod comes, small and hesitantly, he can’t help but kiss Iruka’s hand again.

“I’m sorry,” Iruka whispers. “I shouldn’t—it’s—I’m being such a burden and I’m sorry.”

“You’re worth it,” Kakashi shakes his head. “Whatever burden you are, I’m willing to carry it if it comes with you.”

Iruka blushes. “That’s… don’t use your Icha Icha lines on me, please.”

“It’s not a line,” Kakashi says. “Come on, you need a shower, a shave, and some real food—not just rice. I’ll start a load of laundry while you’re cleaning up, and order in.”

“What about outside…?”

“We’ll do that tomorrow.”

[milazka]

Distraction — Drew Starkey.

image found on pinterest

summary: the one where the quaterback of the football team helps you forget about your bad grade.

request: yes

content: fluff & smut

author’s note: it’s my very first story about a member of the cast of outer banks! i would like to clarify that all this is fictional, i only use the looks and the names of the actors and actresses. my masterlist will be linked at the end of this story if you feel like reading some other fics. this one is for my babe cort ( @pogue-writings ) because she is drew’s soulmate.

warnings: most of my stories may contain mature themes such as swearing, underage drinking, substance abuse, sexual language and scenes, fights and more. also, i do not intend to be offensive towards anyone who reads this blog, if anything written can be perceived as hurtful to any community or person, i apologize, it was never my purpose while writing it.

word Count: 1957.

The campus library has always been her favorite spot to study. It's quiet and the atmosphere is always soothing, the exact opposite of her dorm room where her roommate seems more interested in experimenting the male anatomy than studying it in her textbook. A few weeks ago, after catching her once again during the act, she had decided to find a new place to study. She had walked around the campus and eventually found this spot around one of the large hardwood tables that stand between the bookshelves full of old books about psychology. The perfect place to set her in a study mood. 

For the past few hours, she has been sitting in her usual place, her textbook open in front of her eyes and her black notebook on her right. She only has one midterm left in two days and it will cover all the topics seen in her subconscious psychology course, which is one of her most interesting courses, but also the one that requires the longest hours of study in order to pass the exams. 

The sound of a chair gliding on the floor makes her look up and she’s surprised to see Drew, a boy from her psychology of the subconscious class, sit on the chair in diagonal to her. Normally, the library is almost empty at this time of the night and she never saw him here; he seems like the kind of guy who spends more time on the football field than he does in front of his textbooks. They’ve been in the same class for four months, but she never really paid attention to him, except when he is disturbing the class with the two other musketeers, Chase and Rudy. She smiles nicely at him when their eyes meet and he raises his coffee cup which he pretends to drink all at once while they both laugh silently, hoping not to be warned by Mrs. Jones, the librarian who looks strangely similar to Roz from the movie Monster inc.

She tries to put her nose back in her book, trying to focus on the pages suggested in the study guide and highlighting important sentences from a passage about Freud and his discovery of psychoanalysis, but she can't help but look up discreetly at the boy. He is wearing a navy flannel shirt which, half-buttoned, reveals a white shirt that moulds his muscular chest. His trademark cap, which he always wears backwards, rests as usual on the top of his head, still letting a few strands of hair slip out of the hat. She particularly lingers on his muscled arms covered by the navy blue cloth, it's not surprising that he's the quarterback on the football team. The  studious look on his face and the way he’s chewing on the tip of his pencil while frowning makes him look cuter than usual, she can’t deny it. 

When she sees the lateness of the hour, she delicately puts her books back in her red bag, not noticing how intensely the boy is staring at her. He simply can't help but admire her sweet angelic face, her tired-looking little eyes, the thin, shiny layer of lip balm covering her lips that he would dream of kissing; he likes everything about her and cannot help but smile foolishly. 

“Hey Y/n,” he whispers, catching her attention. “Me and the boys are throwing a party friday night, you should come.” 

“Oh, yeah, of course!” she smiles at him, noticing his blushing cheeks and the little spark in his gaze.

“Great! Good luck on your exam.” 

“Good luck to you too. I’ll see you friday.” 

─── °• ❀ ───

The room goes from purple to blue, then from blue to pink, courtesy of the spotlights that change the colour of the room's luminosity along the rhythm of the music. The parties hosted by the university football team always do justice to their reputation, no matter what’s the occasion. It's not the first time she attends one, but it's the first time she’s been invited by the quarterback. Her mind did not stop playing back the memory of the little sparkle in the young man's eyes when she had accepted his invitation. Maybe it meant nothing, but a part of her wants to believe it didn't. Plus, she really needs to take her mind off things after receiving her mediocre grade from the last exam. She knew her teacher was strict, but not this strict. 

As she makes her way through the dancing crowd, an arm slips around her naked shoulders, making her startles. She's used to being approached by boys at parties, but she hates it when they think they can do anything and touch her even if she doesn't want to. Looking up, she loosen up when she sees Drew's familiar face smirking at her and she's glad it's not a drunk who's asking her to blow him.

“I'm so glad you came,” he says to her as he hands her a red cup filled with beer. “How did your exam go?”

She pouts, taking a big sip of the golden liquid that tickles her throat.

“Really bad.” 

“That sucks,” she raises an eyebrow at the boy as when he takes back the cup that he just gave her and drops it on the countertop behind him. “C’mon, I have the perfect remedy for a bad grade.” 

Drew takes her tiny hand into his big one, guiding her to the backyard where several tables are set up to play beer pong. Small lights illuminate the yard where games have already started. People cheer each other up and yell like crazy when someone manage to get the ball in a cup. She recognizes Rudy’s familiar blond hair when he jumps into Jonathan's arms and she deduces they just won their game against Madison and Austin. Everyone laughs when the two boys lose their balance and crash into the grass, grunting at each other. Her hand is still holding Drew's firmly when he walks up to Chase who is sitting in a chair close to the fire pit with his girlfriend on his lap, grilling and eating marshmallows. 

“Yo Chase! Me and Y/n vs Maddie and you?” Drew challenges his friend, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Game on, baby!” Chase exclaims as they both stand up and follow them to the table.

She and Drew make a fire team, throwing a series of winning shots and gradually getting Madelyn and Chase drunk. All the way through the game, she never worries about her bad grade, it's like it never existed. The alcohol in her bloodstream seems to be opening her eyes to Drew's attractiveness. The girl never really paid attention to how he is totally her type of guy. She bites her lower lip, obviously checking him out when he pulls off his hoodie and his shirt comes up, revealing the prominent V-shape above the hem of his pants. 

“Like what you see, don't ya?” he teases the girl, an irresistible smile on the corner of his lips. 

She blushes up to her ears, making Drew laugh, and he just adds to her embarrassment by putting his arm around her shoulders before throwing the last ball who lands directly into the last standing cup. Maybe it's the emotion of the moment for her, whereas he's been dreaming about it for months, but their eyes meet each other and suddenly their lips collide. The kiss doesn't last long, not long enough in his opinion. The flight of butterflies in the young woman's belly doesn't disappear when their lips separate, she needs to kiss him again, to feel him touch her. 

“I need you, Drew.” she whines close to his ear, making his heart skips a beat. "God, Y/n," he breaths out, pulling her closer to him. "Do you know how long I've been dreaming about you saying that to me?”

She just winks at him and grabs his hand, pulling him toward the front door as he pinches himself on the arm, not believing that this is really happening. He throws a murderous look at Rudy and Chase who make fun of him by pretending to make out sensually. They pass through the living room which is still full of people swinging their bodies to the rhythm of the music and climb upstairs where Drew guides them to his room. He slams her against the door, his hands grabbing her hips as he kisses her again. She bites his lower lip, making him growl against her mouth. Drew starts to place open mouthed kisses on her neck and she tiltes it to give him full access to her burning skin. He leads her to the bed, pinning her on the mattress and he removes her short as he is now hovering over her half naked body. His hand slides down her thigh, making her squirm under him as he gets closer to her core. He plays with the waistband of her panties, smirking against her lips.

“Drew,” she moans, looking at him with her eyes filled with desire. He grabs her waist and flip them over so she is now straddling him. She unbuttons his khaki shirt, slipping his hands over his muscular chest. She starts to grind down on his lap, making him whine and dig his fingers into her buttcheeks

“It's not about me tonight, I'm not the one who needs to be distracted.” he whispers to her ear before  flipping her over again so that he is now hovering over her. 

She lets out a few muffled moans as he leaves a trail of kisses between her breast and on her stomach. He sucks and nibbles at the skin on her inner thighs, only increasing her desire to feel him on her already wet womanhood. 

“You’re so pretty, all wet and spread out like this, just for me.”

“Drew, please…” she begs, but he cuts her short by placing a kiss on her clit, slipping her underwear off. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above her wet folds, making her buck her hips up. 

“So eager, baby, I like it.” he hums just above her bundle of nerves, sending vibrations on it. She runs her fingers through his light brown hair, pushing him closer to her heat. He finally licks a full stripe through her folds, making her back arch to the so desired feeling. 

“Oh fuck,” she groans as he inserts one finger in her, his tongue sucking on her clit. His hands are  firmly wrapped around her thighs to keep her spread open for him. She clenches the sheets between her fists, her eyes close under the wave of pleasure that runs through her body when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. His nose rubs up against her clit as he moves his face, pumping his tongue in and out of her.

“Fuck I’m so close, please don’t stop,” she moans, making him pumps his tongue faster. A few profanities mixed with loud moans leave her lips as she reaches her high, legs shaking on his shoulders. He licks her folds a few more times to clean her up, sending electric jolts through her body when he touches her sensitive nerves from the orgasm. He lies down beside her, pulling her towards him with his arms wrapped around her body.

“What about you? I’m no the type of girl who doesn’t give back,” she starts but Drew shushes her with a quick kiss. “I’m sure you’re not, but tonight it’s about you and only you.” 

“Fuck, you’re perfect, y’a know?” 

“It was about time you figured that out!” he mocks her and she giggles, burying her face further into the crook of his neck. 

─── °• ❀ ───

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