#anyway I’m so looking forward to the beach day stuff

[starlit-eudemonia]

Mhin (probably):

[outerbankies]

congrats bby, can you pls do Try to eat something." and light peck kisses,

new light: wondering why

rafe x reader

summary: fresh off of making things official, rafe is bummed to miss out on a boat day with you when he gets sick.

a/n: happy obx 4 week! lovely going back to the new light summer in this one for the prompt celly that still very much exists and i will complete if it kills me :-)

masterlist

Rafe thought that if he did his best to ignore it, it might just go away on its own.

He thought that if he pretended his throat wasn’t getting progressively sorer throughout the day, if he ignored the way his entire body was beginning to ache, if he acted oblivious when he pressed his own hand into the back of his forehead to find a steady warmth, none of it would actually amount to anything.

But he wakes up on the Fourth of July and just knows, knows he’s completely fucked — seeing you, seeing his friends, any of his other plans for the day immediately put on the shelf when he wakes up in the state he’s in.

He’d woken up to the sound of his ringtone chiming, and if the way the sunlight filtering through his curtains was any indication, he was waking much later than he normally would be.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he answers, phone smushed into the side of his face, after cracking one eye open to check that it was in fact you calling. He had an inkling.

“Rafe?” you return.

“Hm?” he grunts, finding the wherewithal to roll out of bed, standing on shaky legs and making his way down the hall and to the bathroom.

“You sound sick,” you accuse.

“Yeah…” he says, voice catching on a cough that sneaks up his throat. “Yeah — um. Fuck, Wheez came home from camp with something last week. I think I caught it.”

“Rafe,” you say, and Rafe can almost see your pout through the connection. “Oh no.”

“I know, I know,” he says, checking his complexion in the mirror. He looks even worse than he feels, and he’s almost grateful he won’t be seeing you today sporting this grayish tint to his face and splotches of red around his nose and eyes. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it today.”

“No, definitely not. Fuck. I thought you were acting weird yesterday.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning forward to rest a hand on the counter. He switches the call to speaker, placing it on the counter so he can rifle through his bathroom drawers for anything that could help.

After a beat, he hears, “You wouldn’t kiss me. Not on the lips, anyway.”

Rafe feels a smile pulling at his lips, as ill as he feels. “Shit, baby. You notice that kinda stuff?”

Maybe Rafe hadn’t been ignoring the feelings as much as he thought he’d been, if withholding kisses from you is something he was doing voluntarily, even subconsciously. 

“Of course I do,” comes your reply. He can picture the sheepish look on your face right now, and the way you’d be ducking your head from his view the second you’d been caught out.

“Probably didn’t want you sick,” he says, trying to pinpoint anything weird from your date yesterday. It was nothing fancy, tacos on the beach after work, but he didn’t even consider cancelling while he was slogging through his day, and he didn’t regret it as soon as he saw you running down your parents’ driveway and to his truck.

“My hero. Is it just your throat?” you ask. 

“Hm,” he considers, blinking away thoughts of the shorts you’d been wearing under the sweatshirt he’d given you once the beach got cold, closing the drawer in his bathroom, suddenly frustrated at its emptiness. He might have to raid the girls’ bathroom and the kitchen cabinet above the microwave. “I’m gonna be real, baby. I just feel like shit. All-around.”

“Head?”

“Yep.”

“Are you warm?”

He feels the back of his neck with a clammy hand, already knowing the answer as he ambles back into his room, unsuccessful. “Very.”

“Achy, too?” you ask, and Rafe has to crack another smile at how doting you are, treating him like one of your nanny kids who caught the flu at pre-k. God, Rafe hopes he doesn’t have the flu.

“Big time. Gonna lay down,” Rafe decides, burrowing back under his covers, phone placed beside his head on his pillow. “M’sorry about today, Y/n/n.”

“Don’t be, Rafe,” you say sweetly.

It was nothing too special, just your group of friends out on Kelce’s boat for the day. But you’d made Rafe promise to make an appearance at your mom’s party before you all got too drunk, and you’d even helped him pick out an outfit for it. The navy polo he was gonna pair with his striped swim shorts hangs on the back of his closet door, mocking him.

“Did you find meds?”

“Yes,” he lies. “Think they’ll kick in when I wake back up.”

“Good. Stay hydrated, too. Lots of fluids. And try to eat something when you get up, alright?”

Rafe looks at the empty water glass on his night stand, another empty promise falling from his lips immediately. “Yeah, I can scrounge something up later.”

“Okay,” you say, sounding slightly assuaged, but still skeptical. “Are you home alone?”

Rafe feels his eyelids getting heavier at the way your tone goes soft. “Mm. Parade starting soon, probably. They took Wheez. Sarah’s at her boyfriend’s.”

“Right. Okay,” you sigh. “Well hang in there, okay? I’ll check in on you in a bit.”

“Don’t,” Rafe says. “Go have fun with everyone. If anyone gets too drunk to get you home, I’ll come. Take it easy, baby. For me.”

He makes a mental note to text Kelce as soon as he can stand to open his eyes and look at his phone again, just so he knows someone’s keeping an eye on you. He trusts all of your friends, but the sun’ll be out and he knows how you all get about day drinking. Plus, he’s got boyfriend duties now.

It’s been barely a week since he’d made it official, so his stomach still swoops when he remembers that you’re his. And not in a queasy way, from whatever malady he’s fighting today. In a way that he can’t believe it — can’t believe he landed you. That you like him, that you’re giving him a try, that you might feel even a fraction of the same way he does for you. 

Your friends don’t even know yet; today might have been the day to let them know, but not anymore.

“Don’t worry after me,” you say indignantly.

Rafe’s eyes finally flutter shut, your voice luring them closed. “I will.”

“Dork,” you giggle. “I’m hanging up now. Feel better.”

“Bye, baby,” he says, drifting off before he even hears the dial tone.

—

You already had the cute, red bathing suit you’d been planning to wear all day on when Rafe fell sick this morning. Purchased at a boutique on the mainland with him in mind last week, of course, but only bought and paid for when Gretchen and Margot had stepped out of the dressing rooms in their own new suits, assuring you you had to buy it.

You’d thrown a long sleeve and the shorts Rafe really liked on over it before getting in your Jeep, heading off to the south side of the island for one of the only restaurants in town open on the holiday.

And now you stand outside of Tanneyhill, nervous as can be, wondering if this was the right move.

Rafe did divulge that his entire family was out, so you summon the courage to lift a hand to use the door knocker. Of course, Tanneyhill had a door knocker, god — you don’t know why you didn’t notice until now. Maybe it’s because you’d always rolled up in a group, or to an open door, or filtered in through the side. But this was the first time you’d ever really—

The door creaks open, a head of pillow-messy hair hidden under a navy blue hoodie appearing in the gap.

“Y/n/n?” 

“Hi,” you say, your voice shaking.

“Baby,” Rafe sighs, pulling the door open completely. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re sick.”

“You’re supposed to be…” he begins lamely, letting you breeze past him over the threshold into his empty home, shutting the door after you. He pushes his sleeve up his arm to check his watch, and you notice a tremor. “Weren’t you guys meeting up around now? You know Top isn’t gonna wait around on the dock.”

“I know. I texted him I wasn’t coming,” you say. “All the delis up here are closed. The co-op, too. But there’s this pho place down past the marina that’s so good.”

He smiles. “I’ve heard of it.”

“I made sure to get a ton of sriracha packets — I know you like stuff really spicy,” you continue, setting the bag with the styrofoam containers on the kitchen counter while he trails behind you. “So even if you don’t like it, maybe you can—”

“I’m sure it’s great.”

You walk into his arms, slipping your hands up to rub his back. “I’m so sorry you’re sick, Rafe.”

He encloses you in a tentative embrace, his head leaning away with intent. “You brought me soup?”

He sounds disbelieving, and he looks it even more, digging into the bag. You rifle through the tote bag on your shoulder at that point, too, placing the other things you’d brought on the counter. “And some decongestants, cold and flu. I forget that literally everything closes here on holidays so it’s just what I had at home, but maybe someone at Heyward’s is—”

Rafe interrupts. “You brought meds, too? I told you I took some.”

You assess his pallor, your hand holding the side of his face. “I don’t think I believe you.”

When he sags into your hold, your thumb brushes his cheekbone. You pull him down until he bows, pecking his forehead. “Do you wanna go shower up? If you get it real hot, the steam might open your sinuses. I’ll keep the soup warm while you’re up there.”

He presses a tentative kiss into your hair, distancing himself from you to head back up the stairs. “I’ll go do that. Um, stay down here? We can hang on the couch, or whatever. Just — m’room’s a mess,” he says bashfully, one hand on the banister and another behind his neck.

When Rafe heads up, you briefly consider following defiantly a few minutes later to clear up his space and make up his bed for him — but it’s fresh, you two are fresh — it’s barely been a week. Eight days, if you were counting.

You keep good on your promise to keep the pho warm, portioning out some meds too. He’d been warm to the touch, and you’d make sure he had food in his stomach, and that he actually took something. Because you were beginning to suspect that he didn’t take care of himself at all like he promised he would on the phone.

He comes back downstairs looking maybe five times better, in a clean t-shirt and sweats, his wet hair falling over his face. 

“Better?”

“Better.” 

You eat side by side at his parents’ kitchen counter, Rafe taking breaks to lean his head on your shoulder, his hair smelling of him in a way that, until now, you hadn’t come to recognize was his shampoo. You try to hide the quirk on your lips when watch him dump two packets of hot sauce into the broth immediately, reveling in the fact that you remembered to grab extras.

When he starts pushing the noodles around aimlessly, you grasp the container gently, setting it on the counter before him. “Wanna go lay down?”

“Yeah,” he says, watching as you pack everything up, saving his leftovers in the fridge. 

You make a mental note to text him later about reheating and how long it’ll keep while you get ready to leave him be, already sad you won’t be parting with a kiss. “I’ll still be calling you later, okay?”

“You’re leaving?” he asks, one arm crossing over his body so he can scratch at his bicep.

“Yeah,” you say, confused. “You didn’t want me to see your room.”

He laughs, but it catches on a cough and your heart breaks at his pink and watery eyes. He clears his throat. “No… but we could — well. If you don’t wanna leave, we could… the couch, maybe? I don’t... you don't have to leave.”

Which is how you find yourself the most relaxed you’ve ever been in Tanneyhill, a blanket over your legs with your boyfriend’s head in your lap, some action movie droning quietly in the background.

“You can turn on one of your shows,” he says sleepily, rolling over until his lips are brushing the strip of skin between your shirt and the top of your shorts. “The housewives or whatever.”

His arm circles around your back, pulling you in, and you can’t understand how he still ties your stomach up in excited knots with a raw, pink nose and the smell of vaporub coming from his chest.

“This is fine,” you say, nodding to a buddy comedy with a title you don’t know, your eyes following a plot you don’t care about.

“I’m kinda invested in that one you had on the other night,” he confesses, cracking an eye open for you. He suddenly grins mischievously, and you feel the hand that’d wrapped around you suddenly digging into your side. “What’s this?”

His finger traces the strap of your bikini bottoms, and your skin flushes at the touch. “You got sick and now you’ll never know.”

“No,” he groans dramatically. “Please.”

You play ball, retracting your hand from his hair to lift the edge of your shirt obligingly. Rafe groans again, his face buried into your lap even further. “Fuck. I’m so mad we’re missing today.”

“I’m kinda not,” you admit. “I hate that you’re sick, but I was nervous about… I haven’t seen anyone since last week.”

“You tell any of them?” he asks softly, his head tipping back for your answer.

“Not yet. You?” you ask even softer. 

“Not a soul,” he says. “I just… It’s nice having it just us for a bit.” 

“I’m not ready for all the shit Kelce is gonna tell you about high school. And the girls. Probably Top, too,” you sigh, feeling your cheeks warm while you tip your head back to the couch.

“We’ll at least be even,” he promises. “Or I’ll be worse. Guaranteed.”

You aren’t immune to his insinuation, rushing to further the subject. “I was thinking maybe today.”

“Today,” he agrees. “I definitely wanted to do today. And I don’t think I would’ve been able to keep my hands off you, anyway.” 

“Made yourself sick over it,” you tease.

“That was probably just from asking you out,” he teases back, his hand squeezing your knee where he’s back to facing the TV.

You can’t find it in yourself to be worried about his family coming home and finding the two of you, or about anything, really, as Rafe dozes in your lap, his grip never faltering or becoming any less warm and captivating. Not even when your phone buzzes with a FaceTime from Margot, and you opt to answer it while keeping the volume as low as possible. 

“Where the fuck are you?” she demands. “There’s coasties everywhere.”

“I’m at Rafe’s,” you answer boldly.

She lowers her sunglasses through the glitchy connection, the ocean behind her a sea of pixelated blues and whites. “Why are you at Rafe’s?”

“He’s sick,” you say simply.

“That’s girlfriend behavior, Y/n,” she claims.

You say nothing, just giving an innocent shrug before you bid her goodbye, wondering how long it’ll be before she blows your phone up. 

[starlightkun]

⏯ word count: 18.3k ⏯ genre: band au, retired floprockstar/venue manager!kun, rookie/keyboardist!reader, age gap (kun is older), fluff, v v suggestive (lol it’s a kun fic written by me this gets so unhinged im sorry), ft. jungwoo/mark/chenle/jisung as reader’s bandmates, wayv as kun’s coworkers & some special guest appearances maybe?? ⏯ warnings: uhm there’s some maybe weird power dynamics going on here? reader is a former fan of kun’s but like his band flopped and they never met back then so 🤷‍♀️ read at your own peril ig, not necessarily a warning but since i do avoid describing the reader’s appearance in my fics, i wanted to give a heads up—reader is in a punk/alternative band and is mentioned and/or implied to have some tattoos and piercings (other than earlobes). i don’t get super detailed, but since it’s there, i wanted to make sure y’all weren’t caught off-guard ⏯ extra info: set in the same universe as filler episodes & sugarcoated brain, but u don’t need to read those in order to understand this one at all i prommy ⏯ author’s note: those teasers of emo kun for frequency coming out right after i wrote a punk venue manager kun into sugarcoated brain??? oh i was not going to get out unscathed ⏯ now playing… frost – txt | doing this again! – bears in trees | entropy – beach bunny

── ⋆⋅♫⋅⋆ find more stories from backstage at venue:hell here!

“He played the keys in Vizions!” You hissed, anxiously looking over at the hallway as if Kun might reappear.

“You should see if he’ll sign your album,” Jungwoo suggested with a grin, nudging you with his elbow.

“Or fuck him,” Chenle deadpanned. “You’re in a band now too, not just a fan.”

“Venue:Hell…” Chenle hummed as he parked the band’s van in the alleyway in the back of the building. “When was the last time we were here?”

“We had a set at their Valentine’s Day event, remember?” You leaned over the console from the backseat. “When the lead singer of Roses for Eyes got decked in face?”

A chorus of ‘oh yeah!’s and other noises of recognition sprang up around you, as well as a few snickers and hisses of sympathy at the memory. You all had already performed that night and were in line for the bar nearby when the incident happened, practically front row for it.

“And we agreed to come back,” Jisung snorted.

“If we can make it out with no broken noses, I think that’ll be a success,” you grinned, reaching over Mark to open the side door.

After grabbing some of your equipment from the back, the five of you approached the back door. It was unlocked, as promised, and you all descended into the cool, dim basement venue.

“Hello? We’re Doing this Again! The new band!” Jungwoo called out from the front of the group. You shut the door firmly behind you.

A young man skidded around into your line of sight, bright smile on his face. “Hey! I’m Yangyang.”

“Our assistant manager is out for the next few weeks, so we’re kind of all sharing custody of you guys,” he explained, gesturing for you to follow him. “I’ll show you the green room, we’ll get the rest of your stuff, then our manager should be out here before your soundcheck.”

Yangyang and another employee, Kunhang, helped unload your equipment from your van, and began setting it up on stage. You learned that Yangyang was their sound guy, and Kunhang did lights and the rest of their tech.

Once your equipment was all set up, Yangyang and Kunhang exchanged uncertain looks, glancing over towards a hallway attached to the main room that you were in. Yangyang shrugged one shoulder and made a gesture for Kunhang to go ahead. The tech rolled his eyes at his coworker, but stepped forward anyway, flashing you all a bright smile.

“We’ll show you around since he’s not out yet. He said he wanted to talk to you before soundcheck,” he explained apologetically.

Kunhang and Yangyang showed you most of the building, ending in the main green room backstage.

“Uh, you can settle in,” Yangyang waved his hands around vaguely. “We’re going to go see if the old man finally keeled over or something.”

“I heard that.” A stern voice resounded from just outside the green room, making the two employees jump and turn around.

A third man had joined you all, focusing an unamused gaze on Yangyang and Kunhang. He was dressed in black from head to toe, a black leather jacket over black button-up shirt and black jewelry glinting from his neck, ears, and knuckles. He wore dark pants and big black work boots too, so you were doubly surprised at how quietly he could move. While you could tell he was older than the rest of you, you definitely wouldn’t call him old. As soon as his sharp eyes flicked over to you from under a curtain of jet-black hair, a jolt of recognition zapped through you, and you grabbed Jisung’s arm at the same time that you bit down on your tongue to avoid making a sound. Your friend’s arm tensed in surprise, but he thankfully stayed quiet too. The newcomer’s gaze went back to his employees as quick as it had flitted over your band.

“Go find something to do,” he shooed them away with one swift hand movement.

“On it!” They replied in unison, shoes squeaking on the concrete floor as they quite literally ran away.

He turned back to you all, taking a few steps in to fully enter the green room. The annoyance drained from his face, and his features became beautifully neutral as he greeted you all politely. “Sorry, I was on a call, it took much longer than I thought it would. If they didn’t already tell you, my assistant manager is out, so it’s a bit hectic around here right now. Normally our weekly act is her responsibility.”

“Is she okay?” Jungwoo asked.

“Yes, she’s fine,” the manager replied. “She’s assisting our usual weekly with their mini-tour. Which is why you all are here, of course. We appreciate you agreeing to fill in for RFE on this temporary basis.”

“Thanks for the opportunity,” Mark replied automatically.

“If you all do well, it might not have to be temporary, hm?” He said, and though his words were kind, his expression didn’t change. You were beginning to taste blood. “I’m Kun, manager of Venue:Hell. Please let me know if you have any issues while you’re here. I’ve delayed your soundcheck already, so I’ll let you go ahead.”

With that, Kun stepped out as briskly as he had arrived, leaving no room for further conversation or introductions.

As soon as he left, Jisung yanked his arm from your grip and looked at you incredulously. “Christ, Y/N, what the fuck—”

“He played the keys in Vizions!” You hissed, anxiously looking over at the hallway as if he might reappear.

“Wait, like that band that only released one album like a decade ago that you’re obsessed with?” Chenle questioned doubtfully. “How can you be sure?”

“She went to like every gig they had,” Mark recounted. “Got us grounded, and then would insist on sneaking out while we were grounded to go to even more. If anybody is gonna recognize a member of that band, it’s her.”

“You should see if he’ll sign your album,” Jungwoo suggested with a grin, nudging you with his elbow.

“Or fuck him,” Chenle deadpanned abruptly, dropping onto the well-used couch, stretching his legs out. “You’re in a band now too, not just a fan.”

“You guys don’t get it, I didn’t just think he was hot—”

“That was definitely part of it,” Mark snorted.

“—He was awesome on the keys! And he wrote all of their songs, and produced their entire album by himself!” You defended yourself. “He made me realize I didn’t just have to do piano recitals and that I could do something like this.”

“Alright, sorry, Y/N,” Chenle said softly. “We were just messin’ with you.”

“Do you think he recognized you? Since you apparently went to so many of their shows?” Jisung asked.

You shook your head. “No way. I never had the courage to talk to them. And that was like ten years ago anyway.”

“I still think you should see if he’ll sign your CD.” Jungwoo patted your shoulder. “It’d probably make his day.”

“I don’t know, clearly the band thing didn’t work out for him,” Chenle added. “He might want to just forget it all.”

You bit the inside of your cheek nervously, then let out a dejected sigh. “Nah, it’s not like I carry the CD with me everywhere…”

Your set at Venue:Hell that night was a hit, if you did say so yourself. It wasn’t nearly as big of a turnout as the Valentine’s event you’d played at, but that was to be expected for a random Thursday night. The crowd was surprisingly engaged, especially since you were careful to incorporate a couple covers of popular songs into your set.

Running off the stage, the five of you immediately tackled each other in a group hug that was all yelling, elbows, sweat, laughing, and chaos.

“One down, three to go!” You cheered, ruffling up Jisung’s matted hair.

“Oh my god, we’re doing this again!” Mark added breathlessly.

“Boo!” You all immediately jeered at the corny joke he made every chance he got. “Tomato! Tomato!”

He laughed loudly as you and Chenle pushed and jostled him, but not enough for him to fully leave your circle. Jungwoo tugged him back in.

“Good job, guys,” Dejun, a stage tech, congratulated you as he passed by, starting to break down some of the equipment on stage.

Your band broke apart to help the staff shut down the stage for the night as other music played over the speakers of the venue and patrons chatted and danced on the floor. A few came up to the stage to talk with you as you worked, interested both in you all as the new weekly, and what had happened to the old weekly. They seemed relieved to hear that Roses for Eyes wasn’t gone for good, and were really enthused in the feedback they had for you.

After putting your equipment that you would be taking home in the green room, you all decided to stay and mingle for a little while more. If this was only going to be for four nights, you wanted to make them count and do as much as you could to get your band’s name out there. You ordered a drink from Sicheng the bartender, at which time you found out that the 50% employee discount applied to you too for the time being. Turning back to the crowd, you strained to spot any of your bandmates among the bodies.

“Hey,” Kun had appeared next to you at the bar, and you jumped out of your skin.

“Fuckin’ Christ, dude,” you coughed, trying to catch your breath. “Can you teleport or something?”

“Sorry.” He seemed more amused than apologetic. “Good set.”

“Thanks.” You took a sip of your drink to avoid looking him in the eye.

“Who did the arrangement for that first cover?”

“I did. Uhm, it obviously wasn’t for a rock band, so I had to do some tweaking…”

He nodded, looking actually impressed. “You compose?”

“Me and Mark for the most part, yeah. The other guys pitch in on songwriting sometimes, too. Chenle’s adlibs are crazy good.”

“Cool. See you next week.” Kun pushed off the bar, disappearing into the crowd.

Mark and Jungwoo found you still rooted to that spot, robotically sucking down your drink.

“Woah, I know we did good, but I don’t know if it was ‘get absolutely smashed’ good,” Mark laughed, pulling your drink down from your mouth.

“Come on, we got Jisung dancing!” Jungwoo took your drink and put it on the bar.

Your eyebrows shot up at the news that your wallflower drummer had apparently joined in the fun. “Really?”

“Yeah, let’s go!” He grabbed your arm and toted you off with the two of them.

The next week when you all arrived in the green room, you were a little surprised to see a plate of cookies sitting on the table in the center of the room. You all exchanged uncertain glances, looking around for any clue as to who the cookies were from or for. Jungwoo was the first one to take one from the plate and bite into it.

“Pretty good,” he gave his approval through a mouthful, encouraging the other guys to each take one or two.

You were still wary as you approached, picking a cookie up and taking a small bite. It was soft and chewy, and soon you were taking another bite.

“Oh good, you guys found the cookies,” Kun was in the doorway, having once again snuck up on you all.

Jisung started choking on his cookie, and Chenle had to smack him on the back to get it back down the right pipe. Kun’s lip twitched as he was clearly trying not to laugh, a dimple appearing and disappearing on one cheek instead.

“Did you buy these?” Mark asked, muffled through the cookie in his mouth.

“Baked them, yeah.”

“You made them?!” You stared at him, half-eaten cookie in hand.

“Unless they’re bad, then Ten made them.” He winked at you before slipping out of the room without another word.

“God, Y/N, stop drooling,” Chenle snickered, wiping at your chin teasingly.

You smacked his hand away, glaring at him. “Shut up.”

“You seriously looked like you were about to pounce on him,” Jungwoo added helpfully, tweaking your cheek as he walked by.

“Ugh, you guys are the worst!”

Week three found you alone on the stage before your soundcheck. Your bandmates were out on a food run, but you didn’t feel like getting back in the van, so you were messing around on your keyboard. The venue staff was also scarce, you had only briefly seen Yangyang since showing up today. Tapping your foot to a familiar beat, you closed your eyes as you hummed a melody that you knew by heart, fingers flitting across the keys. It wasn’t your own band’s song, but one by Vizions, a powerful ballad.

“Haven’t heard that in a long time.”

Errant notes rang out as your eyes flew open, heart jumping out of your chest. “Fuck!”

You spotted Kun down on the floor, covering his mouth as he started laughing. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You always mean to scare the shit out of people.” You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s like your favorite hobby.”

“Alright, guilty.” He held his hands up, still grinning. “Seriously, how the hell do you even know that?”

“I used to go to your shows like, all the time,” you admitted, staring down at the keys. “You were like, kinda a big reason I started doing this at all.”

“Wait seriously?” All the humor had fallen from his face as he stared at you with confusion and a touch of wonder, brows furrowed and mouth parted.

“Yeah, I uh—” You grabbed your bag from the ground at your feet and fetched the CD that had been sitting in there for the past two weeks, since your first night at Venue:Hell. “I still have your CD.”

Kun jumped up onto the stage with you, taking the plastic case from you and turning it over slowly in his hands. “I don’t even have one of these anymore. God, I remember desperately trying to sell these at shows after we had them made…” He peered a little closer at your face, then shook his head. “No, I don’t remember you, sorry.”

“It’s okay, I never talked to you guys at any of the shows,” you assured him. “I mean, what if you were creeps?”

He let out a few hearty chuckles at that, nodding. “Okay, fair. Good self-preservation skills.”

“Also, I think someone else was at the table when I bought it.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard any of those songs.” He handed you the disc back.

“I didn’t realize you were going to hear me,” you muttered. “When I was playing that, I was just—”

“I’m not mad,” he reassured you. “I’m just… shocked. That’s all.”

“Great, because I kind of want to die in a hole right now, so—”

“When did you realize? Who I was?”

You rubbed the back of your neck. “As soon as I saw you…”

“That makes sense,” he nodded. “I thought I had scared you too, when you grabbed Jisung.”

“You did, just not the same way you scared Yangyang and Kunhang,” you joked. Then, panic flooded your veins as you quickly went to tack on, “I’m not like, obsessed, by the way, I just really like your music, and it was a big inspiration for me to switch from classical to—”

Kun started laughing again, waving his hands in front of him to try to calm you down. “I believe you, I believe you. It’s okay, I swear, I believe you.”

“Oh thank god,” you groaned, covering your face with both hands.

“You’re a lot better than I ever was.” He dropped off the stage, starting to set up the stools around the perimeter of the floor.

“What?! No!” You immediately argued.

“You improved on what I wrote, I heard it. That little—” he imitated part of the melody you had been playing, the fingers of one hand tapping imaginary keys in the air. “—that you changed in the bridge. I like it.”

“I was just messing around waiting for them to get back with the food, I wasn’t—”

“It’s good,” he insisted. “You’re good, Y/N.”

“So were you,” you muttered, futzing with the knobs on your instrument.

“Could you do me a favor?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t mention any of this to my employees.”

“What? They don’t know?”

“No.” He shook his head. “They know I’ve been around the scene for a while, they know I can play, that’s it.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Will you do that for me?”

“Yeah, sure, Kun.” You weren’t sure what sudden surge of confidence possessed you in that moment, but you picked the CD up off your keyboard. “If you’ll sign this for me.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You’ve got a Sharpie around here, right?”

“Yeah, in the-in the office.” He pointed over his shoulder.

You hopped off the stage, looking at him expectantly. He led the way through the venue in a bit of a daze, until you got to a door at the end of a cramped hallway. Kun ushered you into the back office, and you tried to ignore how fast your heart was going as you stepped inside. You’d never been in the admin office of Venue:Hell, only ever the main floor area, stage, and backstage.

The walls were plastered in album covers, most of which you recognized. A small futon was pushed against one wall while a desk and office chair were cramped into another corner. Kun dug through a cup of pens sitting on the desk until he had secured a black Sharpie.

“Seriously?” He double-checked with you.

“Seriously.” You pushed the plastic case into his hands.

He chuckled, uncapping the Sharpie with his teeth before quickly scrawling his signature in the bottom right corner. He fanned it a couple times to dry the ink, then handed it back to you.

“15-year-old me would be geeking out right now,” you beamed down at the fresh signature.

Kun spat the Sharpie cap back out onto the desk. “Fifteen?! We always played at 18-plus venues!”

You snickered. “Bold of you to think that I couldn’t get my hands on a fake ID, or that most of those places were actually carding in the first place.”

“Point taken,” he groaned.

“Anyway, your secret’s safe with me.” You made a motion of zipping up your lips and throwing away the key. “And the rest of my band. I kind of already told them.”

“As long as they don’t say anything either.”

“I’ll make sure they know.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you echoed, shaking the CD case. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kun shook his head, gesturing towards the door. “Nothing. Good luck tonight, Y/N.”

“Right. Thanks!” You opened the office door.

On the other side was Yangyang, who glanced between the two of you suspiciously. “Oh. Y/N. What were you doing in there? With the door shut?”

You kept the CD tucked between your arm and your side. “Had some questions about the weekly slot.”

With that, you practically skipped away, giving the sound tech no further opportunities to ask questions. Of you, at least.

Kun approached the stage from the floor as you all were doing your soundcheck for your final night at Venue:Hell. He waited patiently for you to finish the song that you were on. When he saw that you all had removed your in-ears, he spoke up.

“Got word from Roses,” he started. “They’re going to be moving to every other week when they get back. How would you guys like to alternate the weekly slot with them? My staff and regulars all really like you, we’d love to keep you on. Talk about it, let me know by Wednesday?”

He didn’t wait for an answer from you all, pivoting back around on his heel to take care of whatever else was on his never-ending checklist. The five of you looked at each other, and you already knew the answer. Chenle and Jisung high-fived while Jungwoo hastily took his bass off to grab you and spin you around. You yelped and laughed, half-heartedly smacking his back to get him to put you down as he nearly crashed the both of you into Mark and his instrument.

At your first performance as a semi-permanent fixture around Venue:Hell, you were antsy as soon as you entered the basement, looking around expectantly.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you told your friends over your shoulder as you left them on the main floor.

“Where are you going?” Mark called after you.

“I just want to see if Kun’s here, I want to tell him thanks for keeping us on.”

Knowing jeers and snickers sprang up behind you, but you ignored them, walking down the cramped hallway to the admin office. The door at the end was ajar, and you ducked around a precariously perched box of t-shirts to grab the door handle.

Through the crack, you could hear someone humming a faint melody. It wasn’t any song that you knew, but you did stop to listen for probably longer than you should have. You couldn’t help it, you were curious. Finally, when you started feeling like maybe a bit too much of a creep, you knocked softly, pushing the door open even more.

“Yeah?” Kun called out.

You poked your head in. “Hey.”

He looked over at you from the computer screen, nodding for you to enter the office fully. “Y/N, what can I do for you?”

“What song is that?”

“Huh?”

“That you were just humming, what is it? It’s nice.”

“It’s nothing,” he brushed it off. “Just a tune I’ve got in my head.”

“You’re still writing songs?” You asked eagerly.

“No. I haven’t in quite a few years.”

“Really? You stayed around the scene, I figured you might’ve at least had a notebook somewhere? Lyrics in your notes app? Some demos recorded on your phone?” After each one, he shook his head, and your hopeful gaze fell more and more. “Nothing?”

“Nope.”

“Huh.” You sat on the desk next to the computer keyboard, loosely crossing your arms over your chest as you tried to absorb that information. “Do you miss it at all?”

“Writing songs or performing?”

“Any of it.”

“Bits and pieces, yeah,” Kun admitted, leaning back into the office chair. “I wouldn’t go back, though.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“We were broke, for one thing.” He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, the excitement of having all those what-ifs in front of you, it was awesome. And I do miss the music. But I also like my life now just fine.”

“I didn’t mean to put down what you’re doing now, by the way,” you added. “I was just curious.”

Kun’s eyes crinkled as he smiled up at you warmly. “It’s okay, I didn’t take it like that. I thought I was going to be in the band forever too.”

You looked down at your lap, thinking about your own band, and felt an uncomfortable pressure pushing down on your chest.

“So, did you come in here for anything specific? Or to just watch me create the employee schedule for next month?”

“As thrilling of an offer as that is,” you chuckled, “I did have a real reason. I wanted to say thanks for offering us this slot. We’re all really grateful for the opportunity.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “You’re welcome. I’m glad that you guys accepted. I hope Venue:Hell can be the starting point for much more.”

“Thanks.” You stood back up, showing yourself out. You nearly slammed into Yangyang on the other side, though, and jumped back in shock. “Jesus fucking Christ, Yangyang! Why are you always in the damn hallway?!”

“Why are you always in the office?!” He retorted, just as exasperated.

You rolled your eyes and shouldered past him.

You had settled into your biweekly sets at Venue:Hell, becoming familiar with the staff, regulars, and rhythm of the venue. A private event was renting out the space tonight, so your set had gotten moved way up, to the early evening. You didn’t mind, it meant that instead of arriving after dark, you arrived before sunset.

Kun was out setting up the stools and tables around the perimeter of the floor when you all entered the building, and gave you a wave of acknowledgement over his shoulder.

“Do you live here or something?” Chenle asked. “I’ve never seen another car out there, and you’re literally always here.”

“I might as well,” the manager mused, continuing to set up.

“Pretty sure he’s a vampire,” Jungwoo laughed. “Never seen him out in daylight.”

“Very original,” Kun replied dryly. “I’m wearing all black, I work underground…”

“You’re old!” Ten interjected from what sounded like backstage.

“I sign your checks!” He immediately barked back.

“Uh, guys?” You looked at your bandmates pointedly. “I think the call is coming from inside the house?”

They all looked down at their own dark outfits and various smatterings of tattoos and piercings, muttering among themselves before walking off. You shook your head, following after them.

The performance itself was smooth like usual, some different faces in the crowd than usual, which you chalked up to the different time. You swore you saw Kun standing in the back of the venue with someone, but they were too far back and shrouded in shadows for you to be sure. After your set, you all couldn’t hang around like usual, having to pack up everything and get out so the private event could start setting up.

Your bandmates had already taken everything else out to the van, you were the only one left in the green room, gathering up the last of your stuff to bring out. You had just finished packing one duffel bag and were stuffing another when there was a light knock on the doorway.

“Y/N, you’re still here.” It was Kun, followed by another man that you only saw out of the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, I’m almost gone,” you promised, rushing even more now.

“First, I’d like you to meet someone.” Kun’s words made you slow down, looking up properly as he gestured to the tall man with him, inked from neck to fingertip. The heavy tattoos and time didn’t make it any harder for you to place the face, though, before Kun had finished the introductions, “Johnny, this is Y/N, she plays keys in Doing this Again! Y/N, this is Johnny, he—”

“—was your drummer in Vizions,” you finished, wide-eyed.

Johnny’s eyebrows went up before his face relaxed into an easy-going smile. “Damn, I thought Kun was bullshitting when he said he’d found a fan of ours.”

“No, I’m real,” you shook your head and laughed.

“Well, I’m honored.” Johnny beamed, holding a CD case and Sharpie out to you. “Would you mind?”

“Huh?” You stared down at the items in confusion. It was your band’s CD, a new press that was available at the venue’s merch table.

“Kun invited me out to see your set. I’m a fan of yours now. I’d be stoked if you could sign my album.”

You looked between Kun and Johnny uncertainly. Kun smiled encouragingly, mouthing ‘go ahead’ at you. That was the final push you needed to take the disc and pen. Your hands shook as you signed across the plastic CD case, and you hoped it hadn’t messed up your signature too much.

“Thanks.” He took both back, fanning the CD to dry the ink. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check out the bar now. It was an honor meeting you, Y/N.”

“Y-You too, Johnny.” You shook the hand that he had offered, his palm noticeably calloused. “Thank you.”

That left you and Kun in the green room now, and you plopped down exactly where you stood, wrapping your arms around your knees and burying your face in your legs to muffle your screams. Kun chuckled as he patted you on the head.

“Woah, you alright?”

You glared up at him. “How could you do that to me?”

“Do what?” He asked, still laughing. “I thought you liked our band?”

“Yes, but you can’t jumpscare me with your former bandmates!” You whined, hiding your face again.

“If I had told you Johnny was coming tonight, you would’ve been freaked out before going on stage.”

You huffed. Unfortunately, he was right.

“I’m going to take your silence as admission that I’m right.” After another long stretch of silence, Kun added, “He was being sincere, you know. He really did like your set, bought your CD with his own money.”

You pulled your head up, resting your cheek on your knee. “Let me guess—Getting me to sign it was your idea?”

“All him.” At your suspicious squint, Kun smiled, “Johnny likes supporting new acts on the scene. And why is it so hard for you to believe that people actually think you’re good?”

You let out a drawn-out sigh. “Typical—My parents don’t.”

He squatted down in front of you to be eye level with you. “What did they want you to do?”

“My dad started teaching me piano ever since I could sit on his lap and press the keys. They wanted me to do classical,” you commiserated. “The first time I said no to a recital, I thought the world was going to explode.”

“Did it?”

“No. They didn’t get mad, or yell, or force me to do it anyway. It was so… anti-climactic. I had this big idea of teen rebellion in my head, I guess.” You let out another heavy sigh. “But they’ve never supported me since I started doing this. When I bought my first keyboard, Mark had to help me carry it home from the music store. They’ve never come to a single gig, never even ask how it’s going. When I do talk about it, they don’t say anything, just wait for me to stop talking. They just… pretend like it’s not real.”

“If you all don’t talk about your music, what do you talk about?”

“When I’m going to choose a career path, or get married. Pretty much those two things.”

“I’m sorry your parents don’t support you, Y/N. That sucks, and I won’t take that away.” Kun squeezed your forearm, resting his hand there. “I’m sure you know this, but it doesn’t hurt hearing it again—You’re good, really good, whether or not they acknowledge it. And I hope you let yourself see that.”

You couldn’t quite smile, but blinked slowly, and nodded in acknowledgment. “Thanks, Kun.”

“Here,” he stood up, grabbing one of the duffel bags and slinging it over his shoulder, “I’ll help you with your stuff.”

His words had made you feel a little better, but you were slow to move, still self-pitying. Kun held both his hands down for you. “Come on. Normally, I’d let you pout all night, but other people have rented this space and that contract did not come with a pouting keyboardist.”

You reluctantly put your hands in his, letting him pull you to your feet.

“So yeah, that’s what Retro Rewind is gonna be like,” you finished brightly, looking between your parents hopefully. “Do you think you think you can make it? I-I don’t expect you to stay the whole time, but we’ll be going on first, so just for our set? Maybe?”

Your mom pushed around food on her plate, eyes trained on her dish. Your father took another bite of his food, washing it down with a sip of water. The only sounds in the room were of your breathing, and utensils occasionally scraping against plates. With every passing second, the shame that usually forced you into quietly changing the topic transformed into a white-hot rage, the kind that made you feel like a teapot that was about to boil over, steam bursting from your ears as they went on ignoring you.

“Hey!” You yelled, gripping your utensil tighter. “Look at me!”

Your mother finally met your gaze, her features stern. “Quiet down.”

“I asked a question. Are either of you going to answer it?”

“You do not speak to your mother like that,” your father interjected furiously.

“Well, I’m the one doing all of the talking here, I thought I could speak however I like,” you retorted.

Your mom tried again, “Y/N, please—”

“Please what?” You stared her down. “I try to engage you guys in conversation and keep you updated on my life and get shut down every single time, but I still try the next time anyway. All I’m asking, for once, is that you acknowledge—”

“Acknowledge what exactly?” Your dad snapped, a vein in his forehead popping out. “All you do is recount grimy basement after grimy basement, events that don’t pay you, long stretches of time where you’re not even booked, clearing out your savings to record an album with no label to distribute it. What accomplishments, exactly, are we supposed to be acknowledging?”

You held his eye contact, clenching your jaw so tight it felt like your teeth might break.

“We wanted the best for you, sweetie,” your mom added weakly. “Concert halls, opera houses… not this.”

Broiling hot tears stung your eyes as you stood up, pushing your chair back with a blood-curdling screech of the legs against the floor. You swallowed down the sharp thorny thing growing in your throat enough to speak, “All I wanted was for you guys to listen to me. I didn’t realize you have been. It turns out you just hate what you’ve been hearing.”

Your mom cast her eyes back down to her plate as your father grabbed his glass, lifting it to his lips to drink, his eyes focused on something in the middle distance, looking right through you. The chair was knocked over entirely in your hurry to get the fuck out of there, and the doorframe shook and rattled as you slammed their front door closed behind you.

Running down the sidewalks, your feet pounded the pavement like it had done you wrong, and you took hiccupping gulps of air as tears streaming down your face. When you tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and narrowly avoided skinning your entire face only by skinning your hands instead, you finally slowed down. You hissed in pain as you looked down at your bloodied hands, then up at your surroundings. The street you were on was somewhat familiar. You should be about ten minutes from the venue.

A rather miserable but not terribly long walk later, you were at the backdoor to Venue:Hell. Fumbling your keys from your pocket, you unlocked the door, shutting off the alarm that you were very thankful to know the code to. You washed your hands off in the sink of the women’s bathroom. After drying them with probably too many paper towels, you could see that the bleeding had stopped, and the skin there would just be a bit raw for a little while.

Walking back out to the main floor, your keyboard was still set up on stage from your set last night. Without another thought, you were hopping up onto the stage and turning on the equipment. You needed to do something. Completely ignoring your usual warm-ups, you went right into the most vitriolic, hardcore song that you could think of, uncaring of how hard you were bringing your fingers down against the keys. In fact, the repetitive blunt force sort of felt nice against your bones. A different sort of pain than the anguish tearing through your chest, at least. You lost track of time, only thinking about the music blaring out of the speakers and shaking through you.

“Y/N?!” Kun entered the main floor from the direction of the stairs, plugging one ear. “Y/N!”

You immediately stopped playing. “Oh. Kun.”

“I got a notification that the alarm was set off, and nobody responded to my text saying it was them, so I figured I’d stop by…”

You took your phone out of your pocket. There was in fact a text from Kun from twenty minutes ago in the Venue:Hell groupchat, asking if anybody was at the venue right now, followed by several ‘no’s from the venue staff, other members of your band, and Roses for Eyes.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

He took another moment to look you over, then sighed. “Alright, come on.”

“What?”

“You’re going to break your keyboard like that.” He hopped up onto the stage, shutting off your keyboard and all the other sound equipment. “Come on.”

Interest piqued, and with nothing better to do, you followed him. Kun turned off all the lights and set the building alarm before locking up behind you. He took a sharp turn down the alley that your band normally parked your van in. The two of you walked in silence, which you were grateful for. If he tried to press you on your sour mood, you were sure you’d snap at him and just feel even worse.

Just a couple minutes later, and you were at an apartment building. Kun held the front door open for you, then the door to the stairwell. After an arduous hike up the fourth floor, you stopped in front of an apartment. He unlocked it, and led you inside.

“Is this your place?” You asked, toeing off your shoes by the front door as he did.

“Yup.” Kun pointed to the kitchen sink. “Wash your hands.”

With that, he disappeared further into the apartment. As you washed your hands, you looked around. From where you were, you could see the kitchen and adjacent living room. It wasn’t a very big space, only one bedroom if you had to guess, but Kun kept it tidy. A few vintage framed band posters were on the living room walls that you had walked past to get to the kitchen, and he had a nice plush-looking couch.

Kun returned as you were finishing drying off your hands. You looked at him expectantly. “Now what?”

He guided you over to a countertop, where he had a bunch of graham crackers double-bagged in two ziploc plastic bags. He held a rolling pin out to you. “I need these crushed into small crumbs.”

It felt good to swing the rolling pin down, to watch the cracks form in the crackers as they burst apart, then became smaller and smaller as you kept hitting them. Rolling the rolling pin along the bag would probably be more efficient, but this was more fun. Kun, for his part, said nothing about the noise as you repeatedly whacked the bag over and over with loud bangs. He was busy with something else, you didn’t really care—your attention was fully on the crackers. By the time the crackers were a fine dust, you had worked up a sweat, but the raging tension in your muscles was no more. You were still pissed, of course, but no longer had the itch to slash somebody’s tires at least.

Kun came by to review your handiwork. “Good. Dump that in the bowl, then do the other ones.”

You obliged, opening the bags and shaking out the crumbs into a metal mixing bowl before refilling the bags with a new box of graham crackers. With the bags zipped back up, you went back to work obliterating the crackers inside. You didn’t even realize somebody was knocking on Kun’s front door until he was opening it, and you heard an unfamiliar man’s voice.

“What the fuck, man? Are you doing fucking construction in there?”

“You’re complaining about noise right now?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to fucking sleep.”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Keep it. The fuck. Down.”

“Get out of my fucking face.”

“Whatever. Just keep it down.”

Kun quietly shut the door, calmly doing his locks and deadbolts back up. You looked between the rolling pin in your hands and the crackers guiltily. He wordlessly pulled out his phone, and with a few taps, a hard rock song was playing out of speakers in his living room at full volume.

He rejoined you in the kitchen, having to raise his voice as he explained, “Downstairs neighbor. I can hear him and his girlfriend fucking or fighting every night. Sometimes at the same time.”

You burst into laughter, turning back around to take another swing at the graham crackers. Once those ones looked pulverized enough, you dumped them into the bowl too.

“Done?” Kun asked.

“Yep!” You nodded. “So, what is this for, anyway?”

“Cheesecake bars.” He slid the bowl over to him, pouring melted butter in and mixing them together. “This is the crust.”

“Ooh, sounds good.”

He placed a square glass baking dish in front of you. “Press the graham cracker into an even layer on the bottom.”

You did as he instructed, singing along to the next song that had started playing as you worked. Meticulously smushing the crust into the bottom of the dish, you squinted as you tried to figure out if it was even or not. As your focus increased, your singing dropped out, and you realized that there was another voice humming in the kitchen too, almost unintelligible past the loud music. You looked up from the crust to where Kun was mixing something in another bowl, his attention fully on that. Your ears strained to catch more of his voice.

Then his sharp gaze was on you, eyebrows raising inquisitively. “Done?”

“Yeah, I think.” You straightened up to let him take a look.

He gave it his nod of approval before popping the dish into the pre-heated oven. Kun went back to the other bowl, cracking two eggs into it. You followed him to that corner of the kitchen, hopping up onto the countertop next to the stand mixer. He gave you a brief look of intrigue before continuing on with his task. He secured the bowl in the stand mixer then turned it on. You watched with interest as the ingredients were incorporated together. Kun stopped it, scraping down the sides with a spatula and adding more ingredients before turning it back on. Finally, he stopped the mixer again and took the bowl and attachment from it. He handed you the mixing attachment that had just been in the batter, covering the bowl with plastic wrap and putting it in the fridge.

When he turned around to see you still dutifully holding the attachment, he pointed to it, “You can clean it off. We won’t need it again.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, taking your finger and scooping off a big chunk of batter. It was pleasantly sweet and creamy, and you eagerly licked off the rest. The sink was in arm’s reach, and you leaned forward to deposit the now-clean(ish) mixer attachment in with the rest of the dirty dishes.

Kun rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he turned the tap on, and you shamelessly ogled his hands and forearms as he washed the dishes. Despite being in the scene for so long, he only had one tattoo between the two areas, an abstract ink swirl that started on his his right pinky finger and flowed around his arm and disappeared into his shirt. You remembered that tattoo from all the concerts you’d attended, watching these same hands play the electric keyboard.

When he held a soaking wet dish out towards you, you blinked at it, startled from your nostalgic reverie. A drop of water dripped off and onto your leg, making you panic and take the bowl from him. “Fine—Ack! It’s wet!”

“Towel’s on the oven door next to you.” He indicated with his gaze before going back to washing.

You grabbed the dish towel from its place hanging off the oven door, hastily drying both the bowl and your own hands. Another song came on that you knew, and you hummed along to the introductory guitar riff as you dried the next dish Kun handed you. As the actual vocals came in and you started singing too, you could hear Kun had started humming as well.

Pushing on his shoulder, you got an incredulous look in return, but simply grinned and pushed more insistently as you sung louder. He shook his head and poured more soap on the spatula he was cleaning.

You pushed his shoulder a third time, taking a guitar solo as an opportunity to say, “Come on, Kun. I know you can sing. And I know you’re not afraid of getting a noise complaint.”

“I haven’t performed in years—”

“You’re not performing! You’re singing with me while doing the dishes!” You gestured at said dishes zealously. “Please?”

He remained silent, then the guitar solo was over, and he joined in when the singer on the recording came back in. You were so surprised that actually worked that you ended up missing the cue, which Kun immediately noticed. He pinched your thigh, and you jerked your leg away from him with a pout, but started singing with him nevertheless. Kun had only ever done background vocals in his band, but you’d listened to that CD so many times that you knew every layer of sound, every adlib, every second of every song by heart. That’s how you could also immediately tell that Kun’s voice had matured in the years since they’d recorded that album. He’d already told you that he was out of practice, but even if he wasn’t maybe hitting all the notes perfectly, there was something richer about his voice now that left you wanting this song to last forever.

Right as he passed you the last utensil, the timer on the oven beeped, and Kun dried his hands off to attend to that, ending your sing-along. He took the cooked crust from the oven, setting it on a cooling rack. After adjusting the oven temperature, he brought the cheesecake batter back out from the fridge, pouring it over the crust. Kun put it back in the oven and set the timer again.

“Fifty minutes,” he informed you.

You swung your feet. “So what are we going to do for fifty minutes? Other than blast music to piss your neighbor off?”

Kun walked into the living room, and you hopped off the counter to follow him. He paused the music on his phone and sat on the couch, picking up the remote from the coffee table, turning on the TV, then tossing the remote at you. “You pick.”

You sat down on the couch too, quickly trying to figure out all the buttons on his TV remote. A few minutes of unsuccessfully scrolling through streaming services later, and you turned it back off with a huff. “I don’t want to watch anything. Can’t we just—I don’t know, talk or something?”

“Sure.” Kun shifted, leaning back against the armrest. “You guys have your setlist for Retro Rewind yet?”

“Ugh—Not about work,” you groaned, dropping your face into your hands.

“Okay… Do you feel better?”

“Huh?”

“Y/N, I walked in on you Phantom-of-the-Opera-ing your keys this afternoon. You looked one chandelier away from burning our shitty opera house down,” he said frankly. “I won’t ask about what—But do you feel better now? Even a little?”

The mention of Retro Rewind and opera houses brought your conversation with your parents back to you, and you pressed the heels of your palms hard into your eyes to banish the thoughts, to keep living in this nice time now with Kun. You nodded. “Yeah. I do. Thanks, Kun.”

“Good.”

“I got lunch with my parents.” You stared down at your feet. “This whole time I thought they weren’t listening to me… They were, they just wish I was somebody else. They really think I’m a fucking failure.”

“Shit…” He breathed out, scooting over to rest a hand on your shoulder.

You let out a sharp laugh, lolling your head around to look over at him. “That’s it?”

“You don’t need me to tell you I’m proud of you. You’re a kick-ass musician without me or your parents.”

“Can you tell me anyway?” You mumbled.

Kun chuckled, stroking your hair. “I’m proud of you.”

His praise made you feel warm, especially with the gentle hand still petting your hair and his playful but genuine gaze fully focused on you. You suddenly had never wanted a man more in your life.

You tilted your head curiously, “Wait, you said your neighbor and his girlfriend are always…”

“Fucking and fighting,” he repeated for you, hand resting on the nape of your neck. “At all hours of the night. At least the nights I’m here, you know.”

“Have you ever gotten payback?”

Kun took a millisecond too long to point to the speakers, as if he’d caught on but wanted to see if you’d really go for it. “I just did…”

“No, I mean…” You stood up, leaning over him and grabbing the back of the couch next to his shoulder, ignoring the roadburn on your palm. “Ever given him a proper taste of his own medicine? Fucking and fighting…”

He calmly watched you. “I haven’t.”

“Do you want to? We don’t even have to fight after.”

“You just got in a fight with your parents, I’m someone older that you used to look up to—”

“Diagnosing me with daddy issues, nice,” you snickered derisively, caging him in with your other arm. “Maybe it’s that. Maybe I feel shitty and want to feel good. Maybe I think you’re like the hottest man I know, and we have at least forty minutes until those cheesecake bars are ready.”

“Forty minutes isn’t a lot of time,” Kun mused.

“Oh?”

His eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up to yours. “You sure?”

You answered by crashing your mouths together, every nerve in your body coming to life. Kun grabbed your waist, encouraging you to sit on his lap. He let out a groan into the kiss when your hips pressed down against his, guiding you to do it again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tangling the fingers of one hand in the hair at the back of his head, pulling every so often. He kept the rhythm of your hips as he kissed and nipped a wet trail from your mouth under your jaw and down your neck. He bit down harder at the junction of your neck and shoulder, soothing over the indents of his teeth with his lips and tongue. You were already letting out needy, obscene noises and all your clothes were still on. At this rate, his neighbor would never sleep.

“Ah! That tickles!” You giggled, trying to push Kun’s hands away as they crept under your (his) shirt and skimmed over your sides.

Kun’s chest shook against yours as he laughed, hands continuing to explore your skin again. “Sorry, baby. I can’t help it, I’ve got a fucked out, pretty girl in my lap.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You want to play the blame game right now?”

The hint of chastisement in his tone made you shift unconsciously on top of him, leaning in to kiss him again. He indulged you, hand coming up to cup your cheek as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You had just grabbed his hand and started guiding it lower when a faint jingle rang in the background, past the blood roaring in your ears and lewd sounds of you two kissing.

Kun pulled away with a regretful sigh, planting one more lingering kiss on your lips before whispering, “The cheesecake bars.”

“No,” you whined, dragging out the ‘o’ as you pulled his mouth back to yours.

“Yes,” he mimicked you, also dragging out his vowel in a petulant tone. Kun flipped the two of you over, depositing you on the couch and taking advantage of your surprise to loosen your arms around his neck and stand up. He stretched his arms over his head, walking into the kitchen.

You slumped into the couch cushions, opting to rest your eyes for the moment. You could hear Kun turn the timer off, open the oven door, and take the pan out before setting it on the cooling tray. Then, his footsteps reentered the living room, and you peeked your eyes open again.

Kun stopped in front of you on the couch, tucking his hands into his sweatpants as he looked down at you. With you wearing his shirt, you could very clearly see his other sporadic tattoos on his bare torso—over his hip bone, ribs, one on his inner bicep, shoulder, and you knew there was one on the back of his neck too. He cocked his head as he looked down at you. “Taking a nap?”

“Yes. Honk shoo mimimi.”

“That’s too bad. The cheesecake bars have to cool for one to two hours.”

You sat up straight. “I can nap later.”

He offered his hand. “Come on, I’m fucking you in a bed this time.”

“Couch isn’t so good for your old bones?” You teased, accepting his hand as you went to stand up. Your legs wobbled, and you only stayed upright because you were already holding Kun and used him for balance.

“I don’t think I need to say anything,” he snickered, pulling you closer until your back was against his chest. “Let’s go, my pretty girl deserves a real pillow.”

Kun reentered his bedroom with a plate stacked high with cheesecake bars and glass of water. You smiled as he sat down in front of you, insistently handing you the water first. You gulped down half of it in one go before reaching for a cheesecake bar.

As soon as you bit into it, you groaned in appreciation. “So good.”

“Do you always make obscene noises when you eat?” Kun scoffed.

“Sorry,” you mumbled through another mouthful. “‘S really good.”

You held the rest of the cheesecake bar in your hand out to him. He wrapped his hand around yours, holding it still for him to lean forward and wrap his lips around your fingertips, taking the food in one bite. You watched him, unblinking.

When he finally let your hand go, you were snapped from your trance. “Now who’s being obscene while eating?”

He laughed, covering his mouth to keep crumbs from flying out.

Noticing that it had gotten darker out, you glanced at the time on his bedside clock. “Do you have to go to the venue tonight?”

“No, I’m off today.” He squeezed your thigh. “Not kicking you out.”

You looked down at his hand on your leg, your fingers tracing his ink up along his arm. There was a small clink as he set the plate down on the nightstand, then he was tilting your chin up so you’d look him in the eye. You twisted your head out of his gentle grip, looking back down, away from his too-intense gaze.

“You’re pouting again, baby,” he stated, breaking the long stretch of silence.

“Maybe so,” you admitted with a huff. “It’s my thinking face.”

“And what are you thinking about?”

“What—” Your throat closed up as your brain was going too fast for your mouth to keep up with. You decided to pick a simultaneously simpler yet much harder question, “Now what?”

Kun raised an eyebrow. “I need you to be more specific, because I don’t think you’re asking about dinner.”

“That’s what I mean! Are we going to eat dinner together? Or is that too much? Is it going to be just work from now on or like… something else? Some people just know but I don’t! I don’t know anything and I can’t do that!” You covered your face with your hands to hide your tears from him, embarrassed at your outburst, embarrassed to be young and insecure and having the ‘what are we’ talk right after sleeping with an older guy, embarrassed to be crying in front of him, embarrassed, embarrassed, embarrassed. God, that’s all you’d ever done since you’d met Kun, embarrassed yourself.

“Ah, Y/N,” Kun sighed, taking his hand back. “I’m too old for this shit. I thought you were awesome the first night we met. When I got to see you perform, then you told me about the arrangement you made. Even after I found out you knew about my old band, I tried to support you as crew because I figured you wouldn’t want to get tied down to an old flop like me.”

You sniffed, messily wiping your face on the sleeves of Kun’s hoodie that you were wearing. Finally meeting his eyes again, you said, “This whole time, you’ve been getting on me about not believing that I’m a good musician. Why can’t you believe that you were too? I haven’t seen a keyboard or anything around here, you don’t write songs anymore, don’t tell anybody about it at all, you won’t even sing while doing the dishes!”

He smiled bittersweetly and shrugged. “We didn’t make it.”

“You run an underground punk venue, you should know that success doesn’t equal skill!” You insisted. “Or are you the exception for some reason?”

“You… are probably right. It seems I have some esteem issues to work on as well,” he acquiesced.

“You’re not a flop, at least not to me. And even if you were, you’re a lot more than that too.” You crossed your arms. “Like, if anything, you’re just retired.”

“Okay, now that really makes me sound old.”

“Says the man who literally just said, quote: ‘I’m too old for this shit.’”

“About the petty relationship stuff.” He wrinkled his nose. “Retirement is just too far.”

You giggled at his reaction, and while he rolled his eyes, the corner of his lips twitched, betraying his amusement too.

“Let me be even clearer then,” Kun declared, sandwiching one of your hands between both of his. “If you want something—a relationship—I’m all yours.”

You practically launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck and locking your lips together. He let out a noise of surprise, wrapping his arms around your waist to steady you nevertheless. You mumbled ‘mine’ against his mouth, to which he immediately nodded, cradling the back of your head and pulling you closer. He slowly eased back onto his elbows, encouraging you to straddle his hips as his thumbs stroked the bare skin of your thighs. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing him flat to the mattress as you disconnected from the kiss, sitting up higher to look down at him. He looked up at you, arching an eyebrow as he stayed down.

“Now what, pretty girl?” He questioned.

“Say it again?” You requested sweetly, leaning down to kiss his throat.

“I’m all yours.” The words vibrated under your lips, and you moved back up to kiss them right out of his mouth.

“Welcome home.” Mark was sitting on your couch when you got back to your own apartment the following afternoon, feet kicked up on the coffee table as his fingers flitted over a video game controller.

“Feet!” You reminded him loudly, throwing the front door closed.

Your roommate removed his feet from the coffee table, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees instead. He kept his eyes on the TV screen as you walked by. “So where were you?”

“I told you, I had lunch with my parents.”

“All night?” He snorted.

“You’re a smart boy, I’m sure you can figure it out.”

You went into your room to change out of your outfit from yesterday. You had already showered at Kun’s place but definitely needed some fresh clothes. Emerging from your room in a new set of pajamas, you plopped down onto the couch and stretched your legs into Mark’s lap.

“You usually give me a heads-up in case the guy’s an axe murderer,” Mark commented, shifting to accommodate your feet. “Were you wearing a crew hoodie for the venue when you walked in?”

“We work there?” You pointed out rather than admitting that it was actually Kun’s. “Anyway, sorry I forgot to text you. He wasn’t an axe murderer, by the way.”

“Figured as much when you came back with your head attached.”

When his character onscreen died, you snickered. “You suck.”

He turned the TV off, sitting back as he asked, “How’d lunch go?”

“Awful. They finally said the quiet part out loud: They think I’m a failure and will never support me doing this,” you sighed.

Mark winced, but nodded sympathetically, more than familiar with your strained family relationship. “Damn, I’m sorry, Y/N. I really thought they would’ve come around by now.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, it fucking sucks. But we’re really good, even if they’ll never come to a show.”

“Hell yeah!” He offered a hand out, and you smacked yours against it in a resounding high-five. “Ooh, hey, a couple of the guys from RFE told me about this guitar shop that I wanted to check out. Do you want to come? We can get dinner after?”

“Sure.”

Rock music played over the speakers of the guitar shop, guitars of all shapes and sizes covered the walls and displays, accented by the neon lights lining the floors and ceiling. You meandered with Mark, letting him gasp and gush over the instruments as you kept your hands to yourself, looking at the cool variety that was in stock.

“Anything in particular you guys are looking for?” The man that had been sat behind the glass counter called out as your path through the store brought you closer.

When you turned to look at him over your shoulder, intending to let him know that you all were just looking, he lifted his head from where he had been replacing the string on an acoustic guitar, shifting his long hair from his face and granting you your first good look at his features. He had large sunglasses perched on his head, dark makeup around his eyes, his nails painted black, and thanks to the black bleach tie-dyed tank top he wore, you could see the chain and lock tattoo going around one of his biceps.

You screeched to a halt, desperately smacking Mark to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Your friend yelled and fought back, swatting at your hand. “Dude, what the hell?”

The worker was still looking at you, amused confusion on his face as he tilted his head curiously. “Is everything okay?”

“Sorry, this might be weird—Were you in a band like ten years ago?” You asked hesitantly, despite being very sure of the answer yourself.

Whatever he thought was going on, he clearly hadn’t been expecting that, looking pleasantly surprised as he sat up a bit straighter on his stool. “Yeah, actually. I—”

“You played bass, and your band was called Vizions,” you finished. “Yuta.”

Yuta chuckled. “Right on the money.”

“Seriously?” Mark’s eyes were popping out of his head.

“We saw you guys perform a few times, actually.” You pointed between you and your friend. “In like, high school.”

“High school?” Yuta must have had the same realization that Kun did, but just smirked. “Cool. You guys are actually not going to believe this, hold on—” He stood up, leaning over the counter to yell out towards another section of the store, “Hey! C’mere!”

A few moments later, another man came around the corner, looking a bit out of place. He was wearing a rainbow pastel checkered sweatervest over a white button-up shirt, with brown corduroy pants and sensible-looking tennis shoes. His light brown hair had soft waves as it was neatly cut and styled, and he pushed a pair of square clear-framed glasses up the bridge of nose. As he stopped at the counter near you, Mark, and Yuta, you could faintly make out the faded marks where he had let piercings close up in his eyebrows, nose, along the cartilage of his ears, and a few open ones on his earlobes that had no jewelry in them. The change in style threw you off for an extra second, but seeing him next to Yuta gave you enough context to place his face as well.

“TY!” You immediately named the newcomer.

He startled, but his features were immediately overcome by a bashful smile, blushing from his ears to his neck. “Please, Taeyong. Nobody calls me that anymore.”

“Right, sorry…”

“It’s fine…?”

“Oh, Y/N, and Mark,” you introduced both of you.

“They used to go to our gigs when they were in high school,” Yuta informed Taeyong with a grin.

Taeyong paused on this, letting out a short sigh. “As a teacher, I will say that I can’t condone that anymore… but we may or may not have had fakes in high school as well.”

You perked up. “You’re a teacher now?”

“Yes, I teach music at a primary school.”

“I own this place,” Yuta added, gesturing to the guitar store. “Do some songwriting on the side.”

“That’s so cool that you guys still do music stuff!” You said brightly.

“We’re not the only ones,” Taeyong said. “Kun, our keyboardist, he works at a music venue. The other two, not so much. Johnny, our drummer, he’s a tattoo artist, but he goes to so many gigs it’s like he never left the scene. And then Jaehyun…”

Both of them laughed, and you and Mark exchanged a glance as you were on the outside of the joke.

Taeyong continued, “Stay at home father of four.”

“That’s fucking crazy.” Mark shook his head.

“Well, that’s pretty much why Vizions is no more,” Yuta explained. “Jaehyun’s girlfriend got pregnant, and he wanted to be a dad more than he wanted to be a rockstar. We decided that was a good place to call it, and started doing our own stuff.”

You shot Mark a look. “If you leave the band because you knock a girl up, I’m going to kill you.”

He held his hands up defensively. “Woah! So not called for! And who was at some mystery guy’s house last night?”

“Shut up!”

“You brought it up first!”

Taeyong cut into your squabbling, “You guys have a band?”

“Yeah, it’s called ‘Doing this Again!’” You answered brightly, jabbing your elbow into Mark’s side to make sure he knew that you had won. “I play keys and do some vocals.”

“I play guitar and sing,” Mark added through gritted teeth. “We’ve got another guitar, drummer, and bass.”

“You got any upcoming shows?” Yuta asked.

“We uh, we actually have a recurring slot at Venue:Hell every other week,” you answered. “We rotate out with another band, Roses for Eyes. Our next set is this Thursday, but there’s a special event next month, Retro Rewind.”

Taeyong and Yuta exchanged a confused look before the shop owner spoke up. “Wait, Kun’s place?”

“Yeah, he’s the manager.”

“Have you told him you know about our band?”

You nodded. “He signed my CD.”

“You should’ve brought it,” Mark clicked his tongue regretfully.

“You still have one of our albums?!” Taeyong’s eyes went wide.

“She’s obsessed,” your roommate muttered.

“Shut up, no I’m not,” you hissed back, smacking his arm this time. “You say that like your first electric guitar wasn’t the same kind Taeyong had because you—”

Mark slapped a hand over your mouth. “It’s a good guitar!”

You stuck your tongue out, and he immediately jerked his hand back, wiping it on his pants. “Gross! God knows where that thing was last night. Do I need to get a shot or something?”

“I’m going to shave your head in your sleep.”

You entered the green room just enough to toss your bag onto the couch, then pivoted right around. “Be back!”

“Where are you going?” Jungwoo called after you.

“To piss!”

Walking right past the bathroom, you stopped outside the closed admin office door, knocking on it eagerly.

“If you’re Yangyang, figure it out yourself!” Kun’s annoyed voice rang out from inside.

You poked your head in, offering him a sheepish smile. “Bad time?”

The peeved look on his face faded, and he waved you in with a tired smile. “No, not at all. Perfect timing, actually.”

“Why’s that?” You quietly closed the door behind you, moving to lean against the desk.

“I was stressed out, and seeing you makes me feel better.”

“You’re in the same clothes as when I brought you lunch yesterday,” you observed suspiciously, then looked over at the rumpled pillow and blanket on the futon. “Did you sleep here?”

“We had these back-to-back events—”

“You live a block away!”

“I went home to shower—”

“But you couldn’t grab a change of clothes while you were there? Or sleep there?”

He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. “Old habits, I guess.”

You tilted your head. “What?”

“After Vizions, when I first got hired, business at the venue wasn’t really great. The owner at the time let me crash here until I could afford my own place.” He stared at the old futon and chuckled, “Turns out the venue was failing because the owner was keeping everything for himself. When the current owners took over, they started paying me a living wage and suddenly I had an apartment and a real mattress.”

“Kun.”

He turned his gaze from the piece of furniture up to you. “Hm?”

“That’s not your life anymore,” you told him firmly. “No shitty boss, no shitty futon, none of that.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he sighed, then a sly smirk creeped across his lips. “I might be more inclined to sleep in my own bed if I had a pretty girl in it, though.”

“A pretty girl?” You echoed pointedly.

“Just one.” Kun picked up your hand to kiss the back of it. “Just you, pretty girl.”

“Are you closing?”

“Mhm. I can give you my key if you don’t want to wait around here after your set.”

“Is it a dance night?”

“Mhm.”

You closed your eyes as you thought, enjoying the feeling of him pressing more kisses to your hand and fingers. “I’ll hang out.”

“Can’t wait.”

When your eyes fluttered open, they landed on the futon again, and your mind was still stuck in that bygone era that Kun had told you about, after his band broke up. You squeezed his hand to get his attention. “I forgot to tell you—Mark and I went to this guitar shop the other day.”

Kun sat up to look at you as you spoke, keeping a gentle hold on your hand. “Oh yeah? He get anything?”

“A new capo, but uh, the shop was actually owned by Yuta.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“And Taeyong was there too.”

“A two-for-one, huh? Lucky you,” he laughed, easing back into his office chair again. “I think you’re just missing Jaehyun now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Kun, why did you make it sound like your band broke up because you guys didn’t make it? They told us about Jaehyun having kids…”

“It never felt right to me to blame the kids, or even Jaehyun.” Kun ran a hand through his hair.

You frowned. “I don’t think it’s blaming anybody to say that he wanted to be a dad more than he wanted to be a rockstar. That’s just… what being a person is like. One day you want to be one thing, and then something happens and you want to be something else.”

“You make some good points,” he admitted. “I’ve never thought of it like that.”

“Not just a pretty face, hm?” You teased, getting to your feet.

He stood up as well, pecking your cheek. “Never said you were, baby. Beauty and brains, of course.”

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours. As his mouth moved with yours sweetly, one of his hands cupped your cheek, the cool metal of his rings resting against your skin. A timid knock came at the closed door, and he let out a low groan against your lips. As Kun pulled back to address whoever was at the door, you peppered barely-there kisses along his jaw and neck.

“If you’re Yangyang, fuck off!” He called out, grip tightening on your hip when you nipped just above the collar of his venue crew t-shirt, on the front of his throat.

“No, not Yangyang,” Yangyang replied, his voice garbled as he deepened it in an attempt to disguise it. “Uh, I’m uhm, Sicheng! Yangyang wanted me to ask you about—” He was cut off by a hacking cough, then resumed in his normal voice, though a little strained, “Fuck! God! How does he do that? Felt like I was deepthroating my own tongue! Ugh!”

You burst into laughter, immediately trying to muffle it behind your hands.

“Woah! You got a girl in there, Kun?” His shit-eating grin was audible through the door. “We always joked about what the futon was for, but I didn’t know you got down like that, old man! Do you want me to leave? ‘Cause like—”

“Yes, I would like for you to leave because you are giving me a migraine!” Kun finally cut him off loudly.

“Alright, alright! Don’t need to tell me twice!” Yangyang acquiesced. “Doing this Again is going to start their soundcheck soon, so maybe keep it down? Or don’t, it should actually be the perfect cover for any—”

“Liu Yangyang!”

“Bye!”

Finally, you could hear the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hallway, and lowered your hand from your mouth, letting out a few giggles. Kun wiped his face from forehead to chin, red with anger. You could even spot a vein on his neck that wasn’t always visible.

“I’m going to kill that boy one day,” he swore, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think I understand vampires now.”

He blinked at you. “What?”

You poked his neck vein. “I get it…”

He grabbed your hand with both of his, bringing it down, away from his neck. “And on that very normal note, pretty girl, you have a soundcheck to do.”

“You love that I’m extremely normal and say very normal things,” you teased, heading towards the door.

Before you could make it, he tugged on your hand, bringing you back into his arms. He dipped his head to attach his lips to your neck, teeth finding a spot that had already been fading. He finished it off with one last tender kiss to the area.

“There,” he murmured. “We can match.”

“I am definitely late for soundcheck now,” you whispered, reaching for the doorknob behind you with one hand even as you pulled him in for one more kiss with the other.

“Have fun, baby.”

With one last peck, you opened the office door and slipped out. Amazingly, you didn’t bump into Yangyang in the hallway. Instead, you quite literally tripped over him turning the corner out of the hallway and into the main floor area.

“Shit! Sorry, Yang!” You apologized as you stumbled over the employee who was squatted down behind the wall.

“Wait, Y/N?!” He didn’t even seem to care that you had just knocked him to the floor, scrambling to get to his feet and follow you as you hurried towards the stage.

The rest of your band was already set up for soundcheck, tuning their instruments and making other tweaks.

“Bathroom’s over there,” Chenle deadpanned into his mic, pointing to the ladies’ room on the opposite side of the floor.

“I peed and then got caught up talking to Kun.” You jumped up onto the stage, grabbing your in-ears and pack that somebody had already gotten out for you. “You see, people can travel from one place to another using these things attached to our torsos called legs.”

Jisung giggled from behind you as Chenle rolled his eyes. Yangyang was still looking between you and the hallway, obviously bewildered.

“You were in there when I was talking to him?” Yangyang asked, face screwed up in confusion.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“There wasn’t anything for me to say?” You retorted, putting in one of your in-ears. “He was pissed at you, dude.”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“Retro Rewind.”

Jungwoo interrupted, “As thrilling as this play-by-play of Y/N’s conversation with Kun is, we’ve really got to start our soundcheck, Yang.”

“Sorry, yeah.” Yangyang shook his head, jumping over the ropes that served to divide the main floor from the crew-only entrance to backstage. He disappeared behind the curtain, emerging by his sound equipment just off-stage.

“Pizza?” Jisung suggested hopefully as soon as you all stumbled into the green room off the stage.

A chorus of agreeable sounds—varying from cheers to grunts—came from around the room, a new rush of energy pumping through your friends at the mention of food.

You packed your bag, but didn’t put your two cents in on the prospective pizza order. They ended up split on what restaurant to go to, and looked to you to be the tiebreaker.

You held your hands up. “I’m hanging out here. You guys will just have to play rock-paper-scissors or something.”

“You’re staying here?” Jungwoo cocked his head curiously.

“And I won’t be home tonight,” you told Mark specifically.

Mark’s jaw dropped. “He’s here?!”

“Who?” “What?” “Who are you talking about?” “Huh?” The others clambered around you two for a scrap of context.

“Y/N has been seeing a mystery guy who she swears is not an axe murderer, but she refuses to tell me anything about,” your roommate narrowed his eyes at you.

“God, it hasn’t even been a week, and you wonder why I don’t want to tell you anything,” you scoffed.

“Uh, sorry I don’t want you to get axe murdered, dude?”

“If I get axe murdered, you can get up at my funeral and say ‘I told her so.’”

“Come on.” It was surprisingly Chenle who saved you, grabbing Mark’s backpack and yanking him away from you. “I’m hungry and you’re taking too long.”

“Dude!”

Mark flailed as Jungwoo joined in, taking Mark’s hand in his to drag him along too. “Pizza!”

Jisung gave you a quiet wave goodbye as he followed the others, leaving you in a remarkably silent green room. You let out a deep sigh to calm yourself down, then walked out as well. Your bandmates made quick work of hauling Mark out, as you didn’t see or hear any of them when you stepped into the main floor. Keeping close to the wall, you sneaked around to the back office, intending on dropping off your bag before finding Kun. Instead, you found Yangyang in the office, nosing around for something.

“Uh, what are you doing?” You asked, plopping your bag onto the empty office chair.

Yangyang shot to his feet, spinning around to flash you an obviously guilty smile. “Oh, you’re still here.”

“Yeah, I’m hanging out for a bit,” you replied noncommittally. “What are you doing?”

“Close the door?”

You obliged, stepping and shutting the office door behind you. “Okay?”

“Promise not to tell Kun?”

“What are you doing? Booby trapping his office?”

“No, it’s not April Fools yet.”

“You’re going to booby trap his office for April Fools?”

“Pff, no!”

You arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “So what are you doing now?”

“Looking for proof,” he whispered, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve worked here for like three years and the old man’s never had a partner, talked about going on dates, brought anybody around, nothing. Now, in one week, he’s been late to work, come to work with hickeys, had somebody bring him food, has been smiling down at his phone instead of rolling his eyes at it—He’s humming, for fuck’s sake, Y/N! Humming! I’ve never seen him consistently in such a good mood since… ever!”

“Maybe that’s just because you piss him off all the time,” you pointed out.

“But the rest of it!”

“What kind of proof do you think you’re going to find in the office? His diary?” You snorted.

“Ooh, you think?”

You stared at him.

“You’re fucking with me,” he realized. “That’s not funny.”

You were already giggling. “It really is.”

Yangyang pushed the rolling chair out of the way to wake the computer up, cursing when he saw that it was locked.

“Anyway, why are you so pressed about Kun’s love life?” You questioned, watching Yangyang type in wrong password after wrong password.

“Aren’t you curious?” He asked. “I know you haven’t worked here as long, but the man is an enigma. After three years, I feel like I know as much about him as I did on my first day.”

“Have you tried talking to him? Since you’re so curious?”

“Have you?” He retorted, then his face lit up like he’d gotten an idea. He turned away from the computer that he still hadn’t unlocked. “Actually, you do talk to Kun, right? About like, your weekly slot and stuff at least, right?”

“Yeah…?” You answered hesitantly, unsure of where he was going with this.

Yangyang suddenly lunged forward to grab both your hands, smushing them between his as he pleaded with you. “Can you find out for us if he’s seeing anybody? Like, not be super obvious, but try to see if he’ll bring it up? Or say something about them?”

“‘Us?’” You repeated the one word that had caught your attention. “I take it the rest of the crew are in on this too?”

His eyes widened as he seemed to have realized his slip-up, then he grinned. “You’re clever, Kun won’t stand a chance. Thanks!”

“I didn’t say yes!” You yelled after him as he ran out of the office.

With a shake of your head, you walked out of the office as well, quietly shutting the door. Out on the main floor, you milled around for a little bit, ordering a drink from Sicheng at the bar before chatting with a few venue regulars about this and that.

“I’m excited for Retro Rewind,” Sunny, a regular who was a little younger than you, buzzed with excitement, and maybe a bit too much alcohol. “I love seeing you guys and Roses on the same night!” She suddenly gasped. “You should totally do a collab song or something! That would be fucking awesome!”

You laughed, endeared by her enthusiasm as always. “Could be fun. Those guys are pretty cool.”

“Oh my god, don’t look, but he’s totally looking over here!” Tsuki, the other regular that you were talking to, whisper-shouted over the music, grabbing her friend’s arm.

Sunny immediately whipped her head around rather obviously. You also peered around a bit more inconspicuously, curious as to who they were talking about. Sunny must have spotted whoever it was, as she squeaked and ducked her head again. The only person you met eyes with was Kun, who had finally stopped running around and was now calmly watching over the crowd from the back wall. You gave him a little smile before turning back to the two squealing girls in front of you.

“What’s going on?” You asked, swirling your drink around in your glass then taking a sip.

“Sunny thinks the manager is cute,” Tsuki giggled, much to the chagrin of her friend, who belatedly smacked a hand over her mouth.

You choked on the sip that you had just taken, barely avoiding snorting it back out your nose. Thumping yourself on the chest, you managed to swallow it down instead of doing a spit take all over the patrons. Tsuki only laughed even harder as Sunny covered her face.

“You didn’t have to laugh that much,” Sunny whined.

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized quickly. “Not laughing, just uh, just went down the wrong pipe.”

“She’s just sensitive because I like to tease her about how she comes to a music venue and doesn’t even look at any of the acts, she looks at the manager,” Tsuki explained.

“It’s called practicality!” Sunny huffed, then looked at you hopefully. “Is he single? Do you know?”

“W-Well…” You stammered, trying to figure out what the hell you were even supposed to say right now.

“Oh, he’s totally like, married with five kids or something,” Tsuki snickered, making Sunny even more distraught.

“He doesn’t have a wedding ring!” Sunny argued.

Finally, you decided to go with, “He’s seeing someone.” At the way the girl’s face immediately fell, you awkwardly added, “Sorry, Sunny…”

Tsuki wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Sunny mumbled, “‘S fine, he wasn’t even that cute.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” her friend murmured supportively, patting her on the head. Tsuki looked up at you with a knowing smile. “I think we’re going to get another drink. Thanks for hanging out with us, Y/N.”

“You’re really fucking cool,” Sunny sighed, squeezing your hand as she let Tsuki guide her away.

Skimming your eyes over the crowd, you made eye contact with Kun again, still monitoring the room. You slid off your stool at the bar and shouldered your way through the crowd until you could sidle right up next to him. Leaning back against the wall, you propped up one foot, taking another sip of your drink and watching the crowd too.

“Found Yangyang snooping through the office earlier,” you informed him.

Kun groaned, letting his head drop back against the concrete wall with a thunk. “Do I need to check my chair for thumbtacks now or some shit?”

“That’s what I thought too, but you’re safe until April Fools.”

“So what was he doing today?”

“Looking for proof that you’re seeing someone.”

“And did he find any?”

“Nope. Well, technically yes, since I was in there, but he didn’t realize it,” you said with a grin. “He recruited me to try to covertly get information about it from you.”

“Kid’s a fucking idiot.”

“Not completely, the reasons he gave as to why he thinks you’re seeing someone were pretty observant.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Let’s see… Hickeys, you’ve been late to work, had a mysterious person bring you food, and are apparently smiling at your phone and humming.” You listed them off on the fingers of one hand. “I think if he doesn’t find proof of you seeing someone, Yang is going to start doomsday prepping.”

He rolled his eyes. “He needs a hobby.”

“Maybe he should take up crochet or something.”

“Anything to keep him out of my business.” Kun crossed his arms over his chest. “Is everything okay with those regulars you were talking to?”

“Sunny and Tsuki?” You tried to find them in the crowd, spotting them sitting in stools that they had scooted together at the bar, Sunny already looking much livelier again. “Yeah, I think she’ll be fine.”

“Good. What was it? Too much to drink?”

“Probably a little of that.” You leaned in towards him, your shoulder pressing against his as you lowered your voice, “She asked me if you were single.”

“Wait, really?” Puffs of air washed over your cheek as he chuckled.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Sorry—What did you say?” There was still a curl of humor in his tone.

“I said you were seeing someone.” You squinted at him as he started laughing again. “What?”

“Not laughing at you, baby, sorry,” he said through chuckles, his hand that was closer to the wall sneaking under your jacket and pulling you closer by the hip. “Just thinking about how many guys have asked me or the other staff about you. It’s kinda funny that it happened to you.”

“Oh? And what did you tell them?”

“That it’s against our policy to give out private information on our talent, of course.”

“Ooh, how professional,” you teased, biting on your straw.

“I am nothing if not a professional,” he smiled, thumb running over the skin just above your waistband.

You checked the time. “Only half an hour left.”

“Counting the minutes, pretty girl?”

“Until I’ve got you all to myself? Shamelessly.”

“Me too.” He looked at his watch. “Twenty-nine minutes.”

You let out a melodramatic sigh, looking around at where the other venue staff were. There was no line at the merch counter, Ten scrolling on his phone with his feet kicked up. “I’m going to go bother Ten for a bit. I’m afraid this drink is starting to taste like I should kiss you stupid right now.”

Kun tightened his hold on your hip, reaching for your drink. “Can I?”

You let him take the half-empty glass. He shook it first, the ice cubes clinking around, then he drank from the rim. A small sip, then another one. He tilted his head back and forth, humming thoughtfully before nodding, “You’re right. It does taste like that.”

That was all the permission you needed, grabbing his face with two hands and eagerly connecting your lips. He still tasted like your slightly sweet drink, and you greedily took kiss after kiss, biting down on his bottom lip. Kun groaned softly into your mouth, letting his thumb dip below your waistband then back up. Your head was spinning as your blood roared in your ears and you wished he’d just drop the fucking drink to have both hands on you, shattered glass and spilled alcohol be damned.

To his credit, he didn’t drop the glass, even when you suddenly pushed him back against the wall, kissing the column of his throat instead. When you lightly bit at an unmarred spot, he hissed and laughed, pinching your side.

“You were serious about that vampire thing, huh?” He teased. “Menace.”

“Who, me?” You asked innocently, taking the drink back and finishing it off.

He chuckled, using two hands on your hips to turn the two of you around, pressing you back against the wall now. Your free hand bunched the fabric of the front of his shirt, pulling his mouth to yours again. Kun had just grabbed your chin with one hand, tongue entwining with yours, when you felt him suddenly turn away from you. You instinctually whined at the loss, trying to pull at his shoulder as your eyes fluttered open, pout already forming on your kiss-swollen lips.

“—just can’t play grab-ass here, guys.” You caught the tail-end of what Yangyang was saying as he seemed to be giving some pre-rehearsed spiel, his eyes squeezed closed as he talked. Once he was finished, he opened his eyes, immediately jumping back as he registered who exactly he was talking to, “Jesus Christ! Ahh! What the hell?! What the fuck?!”

“Shut up.” Kun scowled at him.

“No?!” Yangyang replied indignantly. “What are you doing?!”

“Telling you to shut up.”

“Y/N!” The sound tech looked at you next, horrified. “You really want to do this?”

“Excuse me?” Kun snorted.

“Kun, come on dude, you’re better than this—”

“Excuse me?!” You pushed past Kun, fully intending on giving Yangyang a shiner.

Kun held you back, but you could tell that he was getting pissed too. “Yangyang, what exactly do you think is going on?”

“You’re cheating on your new girl with Y/N!” Yangyang gestured wildly. “Y/N, I totally thought you were a girl’s girl, by the way—”

“Shut up!” Kun yelled, loud enough that a few patrons even looked over. He glared at his employee, “You’re an idiot. I’m not cheating on anybody with Y/N.”

His face screwed up with confusion. “So you’re not seeing anybody? Then what was all—”

“It’s me!” You finally blurted out. “He’s seeing me! We’re seeing each other! Fucking Christ, Yang, you saw us making out and can’t process that?”

Yangyang blinked at you. “But he’s so… old?”

This time you had to grab Kun’s arm to keep him from doing something, and the sound tech skittered back a couple more steps.

“Go away, Yangyang,” Kun demanded sharply.

“God, can’t believe the couple Ten asked me to break up was you guys,” he shuddered, walking off.

You and Kun exchanged a knowing look. “Definitely not a coincidence…” You scoffed.

Looking back to the merch counter, you saw Ten wiping tears from his undereye, still laughing as he held onto the counter for stability.

“Does Ten have a car?” You asked.

“Yes, why?”

“I want to key it.”

Kun laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “As fun as that would be, how about I schedule him and Yangyang for back-to-back closing-opening shifts for a full week next month instead?”

“Oh, boo.” You let out a huff, leaning back against him affectionately. “Vandalism and property damage would’ve been so cathartic.”

He kissed your cheek apologetically. “I know, baby, I’m sorry.”

You were gently pulled out of sleep by a quiet tune and fingertips skimming over your forearm. Yawning, you squinted an eye open, watching Kun’s fingers trace the lines of your tattoos. With your mind still foggy with sleep, you listened to what he was humming.

“Hey…” You mumbled, shifting onto your back.

“Hey,” he repeated humorously, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“You were humming it again.” You rubbed your eye.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. That song…” You frowned. “It’s not from somewhere?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hm.” You repeated the tune, your throat a little scratchy this early in the morning. “It’s nice.”

“You think?”

Rolling over, you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Mhm.”

Kun rested a hand on your back. “Your phone was going off, by the way. You were still sleeping, I put it on silent, hope you don’t mind.”

You let out a big sigh, blindly reaching out towards the nightstand where your phone was. He grabbed it for you, placing it in your seeking hand. Turning your head just enough to see your phone screen, you saw three missed calls from Mark and a text.

“He better be dead,” you groaned. “Or I’m going to kill him.”

Opening the text, you saw that it was only one word, and from around two a.m., several hours before the phone calls.

[mark: KUN????????????????????????????]

[you: wrong number?]

You decided that you’d call him back if he didn’t text back in ten minutes.

That determination was useless, however, as he almost immediately called you. You declined it, texting him instead.

[you: DUDE are you fucking dying or something??]

[mark: the axe murderer is KUN????????]

[you: did yangyang text the whole venue gc or smth???]

[you: also he’s not an axe murderer jfc]

Another incoming call, which you once again declined.

[you: im going to block you if you keep calling me]

[mark: ARE YOU WITH HIM RN?!!!!?!??!?!?!]

[you: girl where tf else would i be? i told you i wasn’t coming home]

[mark: ok i did a few calming breaths]

[mark: idk what ur talking abt w yangyang but we figured it out at pizza last night. chenle saw ur FRESH HICKEY AFTER COMING OUT OF KUNS OFFICE]

[you: i hate to sound like my parents rn but maybe u guys actually should get real jobs and leave me tf alone]

[you: average unemployed friend behavior tbh]

[mark: bro the call is coming from inside the unemployment office??]

[you: actually it’s coming from kun’s bed rn xx]

Finally, your phone was silent, and you harshly dropped it back onto the nightstand. You only had a few moments of peace before a different ringer was going off. Letting out a guttural groan, you smushed your face into your pillow as Kun reached over you to grab his phone.

“Morning, Mark,” he answered, sounding very amused.

Your head snapped up automatically, eyes going wide with fear at whatever the hell your friend was saying. Kun rested one of his hands behind his head as he leaned back against his headboard, listening with interest.

“Oh, I thought you had a question about work,” he said with a grin. “You know, it’s against our policy to give out private information about our talent.”

You covered your face with your hands, shaking your head.

“Mhm, see you, Mark.”

As Kun set his phone back down, you lamented into your palms, “So much for keeping it private at first.”

“Yeah, I think we forfeited that last night,” he reminded you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You took your face out of your hands to properly argue. “Not my fault you looked like that.”

“I thought it was the drink?”

“Mm, both.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, did I mention that I’m off today?”

“All day?” You looked at him hopefully.

“All day,” he confirmed. “I don’t have to be back at the venue until tomorrow night.”

“We’re practicing our Retro Rewind set later, but other than that, I’m free today too.” You beamed. “Can we go somewhere?”

“Somewhere?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Somewhere other than the venue or your apartment.”

“I do have some errands to run…” Kun mused. “Groceries, the laundromat, I have a package to drop off at the post office—”

“No, I mean like a real date!”

“There we go, just wanted you to use your words, baby,” he snickered, pinching your bottom lip. “You’re pouting.”

“You’re being mean to me.” You rolled onto your back, your elbows getting tired from propping up your head for that long.

“Aw, I’m sorry.” He leaned down to kiss you. “Get dressed, I know where to take you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Not the grocery store, laundromat, or post office?”

“A real date, I promise.”

The destination Kun had in mind was apparently within walking distance, as the two of you took off down the sidewalks hand-in-hand.

“So what’s your day job?” He asked.

You weren’t expecting that. “What?”

“What do you do when you’re not doing music? You know, to pay rent and stuff?”

“Oh, I work with a temp agency and a babysitting agency. Picking up gigs here and there, you know?”

He almost seemed amused. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You touched your nose jewelry habitually. “I know I don’t look like your average office worker or childcare professional, but I clean up good, okay? Take out the nose ring and eyebrow piercing, put on some longsleeves, they never know. That’s why I don’t dye my hair crazy colors.”

“What sort of places have you temped at?”

“Lots of different places.” You hummed as you thought through a brief list of the various businesses that you’d worked at. “I usually do their filing, answer phones, that kind of stuff. I’m really only there for a few weeks at a time. I think the longest place I worked at was for… three or four months? That was actually at a music studio, so it was pretty cool.”

“Meet anybody cool?”

“There were some big names that came through. I got everyone’s coffee.” You shook your head, then looked at Kun curiously. “Have you ever thought about working somewhere other than the venue?”

“Oh, plenty of times,” he sighed. His face turned contemplative as he went on to admit, “I didn’t tell you the whole truth before. I tried to get back into songwriting and composing dozens of times over the years. I tried everything, every process out there, every tip and trick I could find—nothing. I couldn’t even remix our old tracks into something palatable. The staff at the venue only know I used to play the keyboard because when I finally gave up, I sold mine to Dejun.”

You couldn’t help the frown on your face when he described the creative block he had faced. “When was that?”

“Three, maybe four years ago now?” He seemed much less perturbed by it than you, like he had long accepted his fate. “I like working at the venue because I like being in the scene, even if I can’t contribute anything new to it.”

“That tune that you’ve been humming—”

“—Is not going to go anywhere. That happened before. I would think I had something, but as soon as I sat down to write, nothing,” he insisted calmly. “It’s fine.”

“So you just… got rid of everything?”

“It’s not like I denounced music forever,” he chuckled, squeezing your hand. “Just changed my focus.”

You thought about your own band, about all the half-written songs in your notes that you were working on, the demos you had recorded on your phone that you hoped to release someday. Would you let it all go one day too?

“We’re here,” Kun announced, gesturing to the business you had found yourself in front of.

“Mini golf?” You strained to read the faded sign.

“Unless it’s not good enough. I mean, I’ve got a long list of things that aren’t the post office…”

“No, Kun, this is perfect,” you laughed. “Let’s do it.”

“Great.” He smiled, pecking your cheek before grabbing the front door for you.

Tonight was Retro Rewind, and the venue was abuzz with excitement. Doing this Again! was opening, and you were on stage waiting for the rest of your band to join you for your soundcheck. The staff were all bustling around getting set up, and you were at your keyboard, absorbed in your own world as you played around with a tune that had been stuck in your head.

Kun slowed to a stop in front of you, taking his headset off to listen with fascination. “That’s…”

“The tune you were humming. Plus some other stuff,” you confirmed, pausing your playing for the moment. “I figured since you weren’t going to do anything with it… I started messing around with it.” You jerked your head for him to join you. “C’mere.”

He obliged, hopping up on stage and letting you drag him behind your keyboard with you as you explained your idea. “I think it’ll be better layered. Can you play it an octave down?”

To your relief and delight, he didn’t argue, hands immediately finding familiar places on the keys to your left. As both of you started playing, you listened carefully.

“Mm… A step down?” You requested, and he immediately complied. You grinned. “Hell yeah.”

“And then it’s…” He trailed off as he followed your lead into the part that you had added onto his tune, playing it entirely by ear.

“Mhm, and then I was thinking you repeat and I would—”

He did as you said, repeating the melody as you added even more on top, making him absolutely beam. “Alright!”

“But then I get stuck there.” You frowned and took your hands off the keys. “On the bridge.”

“That little flair you had going…” Kun said carefully. “If you slowed it down, and dropped it a full octave…” He played a portion of your part again on his half of the keyboard exactly as he had described. “Could be something.”

“Play it again?”

“Mm?” He made an indicative noise as he went to do so.

You listened and contemplated it, slowly nodding. “Yeah, I liked that. Really moody.”

“You got any lyrics yet?”

“Nah, just messin’ with it.” You started from the beginning again. “If that’s alright with you. I was planning on having more to show you when I asked your permission to make a real song with your tune.”

Kun blinked at you, his hands sliding off the keys and hanging by his sides as he stared at you with wonder. “You really… want to?”

“Yeah, of course.” Your head bounced to the beat as you skipped to the moody bridge that he had just suggested. “I really like this, the more I hear it. That was a good—ack!”

Discordant notes rang out as Kun had surprised you by throwing his arms around you. You took a step back to stay upright, wrapping your arms around him too, rubbing his back.

“Uh, hi?” You murmured uncertainly.

“Yes, you have my permission. I-I’d be over the moon.” He cupped your cheeks, eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “God, you’re so perfect, baby.”

You let out a sputtering laugh, ducking your head as your face heated up from his adoring gaze. “Kun, fucking hell, you’ve got to warn me.”

“You never warn me.”

“Before doing what?”

“This.”

“Eh?!” You made an indignant noise, looking around at your general demeanor. “What am I doing? Breathing?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Okay, I can’t warn you every time I breathe.”

He snickered, giving you a quick peck. You huffed, immediately leaning back in for another, longer kiss, hooking one arm around his neck.

Giving a final wave to the audience, you ran off the stage arm-in-arm with Jungwoo, laughing and grinning madly. Your bandmates all followed, hugging and cheering. You all couldn’t take up space there for too long though as the next act got ready to go on. You hastily gave Roses for Eyes your best before heading further backstage. Chenle, Jungwoo, and Mark packed up their instruments and idly chatted with a couple of the acts that were hanging out in the cramped space. Everybody was sharing what instruments they could, meaning that the drumset and keyboard were staying onstage, which made yours and Jisung’s lives a bit easier.

“We’re gonna go catch some of Roses’ set,” Mark announced to the room in general, tapping your arm in a silent indication for you to join the rest of them. A few of the other performers who wouldn’t be going on until later got up as well, and you fell into the group too.

When you got backstage, however, your eyes were habitually searching for someone, and you quietly slipped away. The office door was thrown open as soon as you got to it, and a breathless smile came to Kun’s face when he saw you.

“Hey, I wanted to catch you when you came off stage, but there were way too many people.” He pecked your forehead. “You did so good, baby.”

“Thanks.” You kissed him on the lips. “Do you have time to watch RFE’s set? Or—”

“Hey, sorry.” Ten’s head poked around the corner into the hallway. He pointed over his shoulder into the main room. “Uh, these guys are saying they know you?”

Kun offered you an apologetic look, stepping past you down the hall. “Sorry, everyone says they know the manager. I’ll be—”

“Not you.”

With Ten’s gaze focused on you, you pointed to yourself in surprise. “Me?”

He nodded. You exchanged a confused glance with Kun, but as soon as you saw one of their heads poking over Ten’s shoulder, your jaw dropped.

“Nono, it’s fine, Ten,” you informed him hastily. He stepped aside to let the gaggle of men in.

Kun was possibly even more baffled than you. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We were invited,” Yuta informed him with a wide grin, gesturing to you.

“Oh my god, I didn’t think you’d actually come!” You bounced up and down with excitement, hugging him, then Taeyong, who was still in his kindly teacher attire.

Taeyong directed your attention to a figure at the back of the group. “We brought somebody.”

The man went to introduce himself, “Hey, I’m—”

“Jaehyun! Ah, sorry!” You slapped a hand over your mouth, thoroughly embarrassed.

“They said you might do that.” Jaehyun smirked, offering you a hand to shake. “It’s really nice to meet you, Y/N. You were awesome up there.”

“Thank you. It’s so cool to meet you.”

“Good to see you again, Y/N.” Johnny squeezed past Jaehyun to wrap you in a bearhug.

“Johnny! Hey!” Your greeting turned in a squeal of surprise as he lifted you off the ground. “Woah!”

Kun cleared his throat, appraising eye scanning over his former bandmates. “And uh, any particular reason I wasn’t told about this reunion?”

“We wanted to surprise you!” Taeyong explained as Johnny put you back down.

“Well, you succeeded,” Kun chuckled and crossed his arms, but you could tell that his smile didn’t reach his eyes, his gaze locked on where Johnny’s hand lingered on your back.

Giving Johnny one last friendly pat on the arm, you stepped back over to Kun’s side, eyes shining as you looked them all over. “Seriously, this is so cool. When was the last time you were all together?”

They looked at each other as they thought. Jaehyun asked, “It was probably for Juju’s birthday, right?” There were murmurs of agreement, and Jaehyun gave you a firm nod. “So, yeah, a couple months ago for my daughter’s fifth.”

“We’re going out after this, you guys should totally come!” You offered.

“Oh, your band?” Yuta surmised.

“The home team; us, Roses, some of the crew…” You trailed off, your eyes widening as soon as you realized your mistake. You winced as you turned to Kun, “Sorry, is that gonna be okay? I wasn’t thinking—”

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “They all need something new to talk about anyway.”

The others exchanged a knowing look, Yuta pointing at Kun with a smile. “Mystery guy, I presume?”

“Wh—Ugh, you seriously remember that?” You groaned as Taeyong giggled behind his hand.

Kun glanced between the three of you, confusion apparent. “What?”

“When Mark and I went to his shop, Mark was freaking out about the ‘mystery guy’ I was seeing,” you explained. “I can’t believe you guys remember that.”

“You two were funny.” Yuta shrugged.

“Anyway, I think Roses for Eyes started their set,” Johnny cut in. “The drummer is one of my clients and I told him I would watch.”

Everyone acquiesced, starting to filter out of the cramped hallway and back to the main floor. You laced your fingers with Kun’s, making sure to not lose him in the crowd. He squeezed your hand back, following your lead.

⤷ au masterlist | blog masterlist

TAGLIST

@sunnyuto

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

@winkeuu

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

Heyyyy, my gremlins of trees and seas! I’m back with something new for you now let’s go

🌊🪼Ancient Of The Sea Danny & Storm Dani and hurricane Dan🌊🪼

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

=====================================

Ok so the GIW ‘took care’ of the Fentons, Sam, Tucker and kidnapped Danny with Dani and Dan fast forward a few weeks Dani and Dan are injured badly enough that they go back into their cores but before the GIW could get the cores Danny grabs them and puts them into his body and flys though the portal and destroys it as he does so

And now Danny kinda just wandering around looking for a place to heal up and than he finds something he didn’t even think he had as a half-ghost. A Lair, Vlad mentioned it a few times saying that it was another thing that brought him and Danny closer together but Danny wasn’t really listening to him ( when does he ever ) but as he walks in ( well incubating Dani who has been renamed by Danny to dawn and Dan who has been renamed to Dusk )

He is met with the smell of the sea and the sounds of waves crashing against rocks and some rock pillers out further in the sea and the sound of the waves hitting the sand which is black {like from one of the black sand beaches they look neat} as Danny walk onto the sand he looks around that his Lair which was something Danny thought he would ever be able to say but he is quickly brought back to where he is when he sees a large black marble castle that is a bit overgrown on the outside

Ok so a few weeks later Dannys settled into the castle and his Lair the castle even has a room next to his ( which is the master bedroom ) for when the baby’s are ready but anyway it turns out that he is the new Ancient Of The Sea so that’s a thing now and the seas have all the ghosts of aquatic animals which is really interesting and now he apparently gives off nymph and ethereal vibes….And I don’t really have anything more to add on this part for now but I will add more later

=====================================

Ok now onto the DC part ok so this could go into two very different story’s regarding which plot you choose 

The FIRST way: So the JL need help with a new big bad ( could be Aliens or supernatural type stuff ) and need the Ancients power to help them so they have to convince them to help so they split off into teams and Tim’s team ( with Jon and Damian just cause ) and they have to convince The Ancient Of The Sea so they go to what appears to be a cave entrance that has small pounds around it that looks like an sea cave but it is the entrance to Danny’s lair and as they walk in they are hit with the smell of the sea and a few minutes of trying to find the Ancient they find them sitting on one of the rock mountains surrounding the black sand beach and that when Jon makes a very loud sound that gets the Ancients attention fast so they all walk over to them and they start trying to convince them to help and this is basically the reaction

The Team: trying to convince him and is doing what they can to keep his attention

Danny: who was going to help them the moment they said they needed help

And Danny just lets them go on without interrupting them and when their done he just nods and says “ I will help you” and the sigh of relief they all let out almost made him laugh

The SECOND way: The Zone holds a ball every 100,000 years and to be invited is an honor and the JL gets invited and any sidekicks they decide to bring with them and JLD have to explain how important this is and how they can NOT screw this up or their world is done for so they have a lot of pressure to not cause any problems whatsoever and it last for three days and on the first day Damian is walking down a hall until he comes across what looks like an Sea cave entrance and goes in and as he walk around he sees a beautiful person who looks around his age and goes up to them and a few hours later they become friends Damien even got to pet an shark who came up close and Damian comes back the second day two and on the third day ( the day of the ball ) Damien siblings notice the change in behavior and follow him and they go through the entrance after him and see him and Danny talking

And that’s all for this

=====================================

Now on to the details

Here’s what I’m thinking for Danny

Mixed with this

This is what I’m thinking for his outfit and for his hair

And just because here is a head ornament that I’m thinking he wears

Or at least something close to this

=====================================

And that’s it! Sorry if it’s a bit weird but I hope you gremlins like it byeeeee

[rothjuje]

Dang I miss this space.

So many exciting things have happened since my last post. The twins turned 5 (how?!???) and Alyssa turned 8. Alyssa is fully her own person now and it’s so neat to see (and a little scary sometimes tbh). First grade was really rough for her, she got an IEP and struggled the whole year through. And her teacher was great, really really good. Her teacher this year scared me a bit (just like, not personable and very academically focused) but Alyssa has THRIVED. Made new friends, is actually ahead in both math and reading. I’m just so proud of her every day. She’s still the most fun, and looks forward to little adventures just like I do. She’s such a cross between Justin and I.

George is my mini-me, my little bud. Just the chillest, snuggliest dude. The most affectionate kid you’ve ever met. Loves music, talking on the phone, car rides, the beach, all the things I love. Gen is still my little spitfire. So much personality in one tiny little human. She’s so funny. And she knows it. She’s wicked smart. I can’t believe they’re going to kindergarten next year. My babies aren’t babies anymore..

I’m still a Girl Scout troop leader and moms’ group secretary. Love being involved in both but our troop is huge and it is a serious time commitment, especially during cookie season. I wanted to start a troop for Genna next year but had to pass it to some friends because I just don’t have the time to take on any more volunteer stuff between the kids and real estate.

I got my license in September, joined the best office ever in October, and am now an assistant to a successful agent in our office. I am learning so much and have met so many people which I love. It is very rewarding and exciting, but man I was not prepared for the balance of 3 young kids and a demanding job. I was doing comps until 10 pm tonight and Justin is traveling for work and, it’s a lot.

I struggled quite a bit at the beginning with anxiety, joined the lexapro club, and it really helped for a time. Then I felt like I was in a good place to manage the anxiety, and left the lexapro club. And I felt great for a time, back to myself, free from the side effects.

But now it’s mid February and it’s grey and cold and snowing every other freaking day and I just don’t feel like there’s any end in sight. This is our third winter here and the first two were very very mild, it only snowed a handful of times and was usually in the mid 30s to mid 40s. Like. Mid 40s isn’t bad, 45 and up I’ll take the kids to the park. But we’ve been lucky if we get 35 degrees. This winter has been hard and Justin is traveling a lot and I’m tired of feeling like I’m in survival mode. I keep checking the weather for a day over 40 degrees and unless it’s pouring rain it’s not happening.

Honestly. How do people live like this? I went from California where every day was a sunny or foggy 70 degrees, to Texas where everything was sunny and hot, to this. Cold. Damp. Wet. Grey. Darkness that lasts 6 months out of the year. How are other people maintaining their sanity so flawlessly? Like, is it extra hard for me because I have the experience of a life where you don’t suffer for half the calendar year? Or am I just a whiner? Maybe a little of both, but I guess if you grew up with it, it’s nature/routine/expected.

Anyway feel free to give me all your tips on winter blues thank youuu

[hurlumerlu]

My belly and my knees, my hands rosy from love

a short THK fic (this one comes with a warning for general beach vacation torture session unpleasantness) (AO3)

They stumbled through the garden, Bison walking backward with his hands down Kant’s shorts, Kant hoisting him up over obstacles, letting out reproachful little moans anytime their bodies detached. They couldn’t stop kissing.

It shouldn’t have been such a giddy, joyful affair – not after everything, not while it was so fresh – and yet. Bison felt drunk, overcome by an all-powerful, all-encompassing relief, and didn’t want to think beyond Kant’s mouth on his, its ravenous warmth, how it gasped when Bison tightened his hold on Kant’s ass.

They could think later.

Bison’s back hit the door, and he had half a mind to stay there, turn them over, but he wanted Kant on a bed. He liberated one of his hands to turn the doorknob, pushed the door panel with his heel, and crossed the threshold. Kant froze.

Fight-or-flight at the ready, Bison twisted to follow his gaze – no one was there. Kant was looking at a perfectly empty spot a few feet away from the entrance, and Bison, brutally sober, knew why.

"Who told you you could come inside?"

Kant stops and closes his eyes, same way Fadel does when praying for patience, as if Bison’s the cause of his misery, as if he didn’t make his fucking bed. "Sorry. I just need –"

"You thought I would allow you into my parents’ house?" And let him flinch, let him, from Bison’s words or his rising tone, doesn’t matter as long as Kant flinches. When Bison prowls toward him, he doesn’t move, only stands there with an air of sadness and pity, and Bison should have put a bullet in his skull. "If you’re going to sully their home with your presence, you will do so on your hands and knees. Crawling."

Kant shuts his eyes again, jaw working madly. Aw. How cute. He’s trying not to cry. He opens them back, though, as he goes to his knees. They don’t leave Bison’s face for the whole descent. They don’t leave Bison’s face after.

"Like this?"

"I assume it’s the best you can do anyway." Come on, flinch. Flinch. Flinch, dammit. Bison walks back to the kitchen, throwing "Bathroom’s upstairs. You can stand up in there, I guess, if you must." over his shoulders, and listens to Kant’s pathetic journey over the tiles. He tries to find it vindicating, and fails.

Tries not to find it arousing, and –

"We can sleep outside."

A silly, feeble attempt at making it all better. Kant rightfully huffed out a laugh.

"I really need that shower," he said sheepishly, as if he hadn’t washed in days through his own carelessness and not – not –

"Of course I want you in my parents’ home, Kant. I wasn’t –" wasn’t what? He’d meant every word. "Kant. Please believe me."

"I do. I’m glad. I just… Sorry, I didn’t mean to cry again."

"You can cry. You’re allowed to cry." Bison lightly tugged at Kant’s hands. He didn’t follow. "Would it help if you closed your eyes? I could guide you."

"I –" A long exhale. Kant’s thumb was rubbing Bison’s knuckles in soothing little motions. Perhaps they were self-soothing too. "I think I need you to tell me again."

"I want you in my parent’s home." It was so easy to say, and like shrugging off a weight.

Another huffed laughter. "Thank you. Thank you, Bison. But that’s not what I meant."

"I don’t –"

"I can’t just walk in." Kant bent down slightly, and Bison obeyed the plea, stepping forward so their forehead could brush. "Bison. I don’t think I can walk in."

Understanding, fear and denial, Bison had found, were very close cousins. He wasn’t sure which one was currently constricting his throat.

"We can sleep outside." He repeated. "I could bring out a bucket, I know it’s not ideal but you could wash like that, and in the morning I’d pack some stuff, we could leave, we don’t have to stay. We don’t have to come here ever again."

Kant’s broad palm slotted against Bison’s jaw, gently familiar. "Are you that afraid?"

"That’s not –" but it was. He wanted it too much."Kant. What if it makes things worse?"

"Can we try?"

With a nod, Bison stepped back. He didn’t want to lose the thumb stroking his knuckles, or the touch on his face. He told himself it was only temporary.

He walked across the old tiles, each one a memory. He had read so much, and fantasized even more – he’d even tried a few things with a hook-up or two, mostly symbolic gestures that wouldn’t spook a stranger but had helped him get there. Nothing had prepared him for this. The theories hadn’t been written for them. The guidelines just said don’t.

There were no guidelines.

There was only Bison’s heartbeat, and Kant at the threshhold, and the sound of crashing waves.

Bison kneeled, hand outstretched.

"Crawl to me, love," he ordered.

[hux-and-gay]

Kylux Short Shorts Fest 2024; Day 1: Vacation

—————————————————————————

Kylux Summer Vacation (Crack Fic)

this translates way better as a comic but comics take time. So i wrote more a script then a fic. maybe I’ll make a comic later or maybe some kind soul wants to waste their time doing it for me. I don’t really care anyway, not to toot my own horn, but this is really funny. I was thinking of the Lego Star Wars specials when I wrote this so picture that vibe. Hehehehehe

pls pls reblog! I dont have AO3 yet

Warning: Suggestive content, brief nudity (it’s played off as a joke)

Kylo: (announcing triumphantly, fist in the air) We’re going on vacation! 

Hux: (sounds unfazed) What? 

Kylo: (repeats previous gesture) We’re are going on vacation!

Hux: (no even looking up from his datapad) We’re in the middle of a war. We can’t just leave on vacation. 

Kylo: My grandfather went on vacation…

(Teary eyed dreamily looking off into the distance picturing the scene from the Lego Star Wars summer vacation special where Vader is being forced to apply palpitate’s sun screen) 

Hux: Oh so that’s what this is about. (Shakes his head) Predictable. Well we can’t. 

Kylo: (Angrily/Whiny) Why! 

Hux: I dont have time for this (Starts walking off)

Mitaka: (comes in, stopping him by the door) Sir… Did you authorize 30,000 credits worth of first order funds to be spent on (squints at his datapad) “Beach fun surprise?”

Hux: (looking up angrily) No! What even is that?!

Mitaka: (nods awkwardly) right I’ll cancel i-

Kylo: No! (Stepping forward) I authorized the purchase! (Turning to Hux dramatically) There’s no turning back now general! (Pointing to each person as he speaks) I’m taking you, and Phasma, and Mitaka, and… (points at a random dude walking by) THAT GUY, and we’re going on vacation!

That guy: Uhm sir I don’t even work here… I’m just visiting my wife…

Kylo: LETS GO! (Marching forward) 

~Later at the beach~

Kylo: (walking up to Hux wearing his helmet  and swim trunks that are definitely too small for him) Why are you wearing a shirt? 

Hux: (eating a suspiciously shaped popsicle) Why aren’t you? 

Kylo: (leans back) isn’t that like, constricting? 

Hux: You’re just trying to get me to take my shirt off. 

Kylo: What? No! (Clearly lying) 

Phasma: (walking by) I’d take this off if I was allowed too (gesturing towards her sports bra style top) 

(#free the nip)

(They both just blink at her stunned before she walks away and then they turn back to their arguing) 

Kylo: I still think you should take it off (huffs)

Hux: Then take off your helmet! (Pokes it)

Kylo: (crosses his arms) I dont want sunburn! 

Hux: The rest of you is practically naked! 

Mitaka: (rushing up carrying way more than one man should carry) Sir? 

Kylo: (not noticing Mitaka) I could arrange that! but I don’t think this is that kind of beach!

Mitaka: (trying to get Hux’s attention) Where did you want this sir? (Holding up all the stuff some of it falls out of his hands) 

(Still not noticing Mitaka the two of them glare at each other and Hux menacingly bites off the tip of the popsicle which has now melted all over his hand) 

~Seconds later~

Kylo: (pointing) oh look beach hockey!

Hux: (deadpan) No

Kylo: (Pointing) look there’s limbo!

Mitaka: (Still trying to get their attention) Sir this is kind of heavy…

Hux: (deadpan) No 

Kylo: Live music? (Gestures to the stage, where, idk, the Cerveza Cristal meme is playing or something)

Hux: Too loud 

Kylo: There’s a bar? 

Hux: I suppose that’s fine 

Mitaka: Sir?! 

(They start walking to the bar where Phasma already is) 

Mitaka: Why do I even bother (Sighs) 

(Meanwhile at the bar. Kylo has his helmet off now. the group was drinking (Cerveza Cristal!… No! Stop! You already made that joke!) when they see familiar faces walk onto the beach)

Kylo: Well look who it is (smirks) 

Phasma: The resistance scum (scoffs) 

Hux: How convient, you’d think this was a Crack fic (looking directly at you) 

Poe: (sauntering up) Hey Hugs 

Hux: (immediately standing to go) That’s it we’re leaving! Vacation over! 

Poe: (leaning on the counter) That’s a shame, we were just going to invite you all to a not so friendly game of beach volleyball. Right Finn? (nudges him) 

Finn: uhhhh… right. 

Poe: (whispers) Sound more confident 

Finn: (Yells) Right! we’re gonna beat your asses into the sand bitches! (Whispering to Poe) Was that too much? 

Kylo: Good luck trying. (Smirks standing up) It just so happens that… I don’t like sand~ (Turning to the others) Are the rest of you with me? 

Mitaka: (panting running up) I Just put everything down sir! 

Hux: (not noticing Mitaka again, setting his drink down) Well I suppose… if it’s a challenge (smirks)

Phasma: (cracking her knuckles) Oh I think it’s time they met the true power of the first order~

Poe: Good come meet us on the beach! (He gestures and runs off, Finn following, flipping them off as he goes. The others get up from the bar laughing and heading towards the beach) 

Mitaka: (exasperated) Did I miss Something?  —————————————————————————

(Look i could write out the volley ball match but I’m lazy so if someone wants to pick this up have at it) 

~Later that day~

Kylo: (running down the beach to join Hux in the water) Wait for me! 

(Hux’s shirt isn’t off but it’s open) 

Hux: (standing in the water, raising an eyebrow) Do you even know how to swim 

Kylo: Pfft, yeah totally!

Hux: That sounded oddly suspicious but if you say so (shrugs) 

Kylo: (walking very slowly into the water) Yeah I definitely learned how to swim, that’s definitely something I did, I mean like, it’s easy, I’m not a pussy!

Mitaka: (standing beside Hux) Is it just me or does it sound like he’s trying to reassure himself instead of you? 

Hux: (nonchalant) oh yes, that’s exactly what it sounds like. 

Mitaka: If he can’t swim shouldn’t we stop him? 

Hux: Let him try, it will amuse me (smirks) 

(Kylo goes deeper in the water, even deeper than the two of them, probably to prove a point) 

Kylo: I’m… I’m doing it! (A wave crashes into him) Fuck! I’m not doing it!  (He starts flailing and splashing wildly even though where he is definitely isn’t that deep)

Mitaka: (looks concerned) Sir I believe he’s going under. 

Hux: He’ll be fine. 

Mitaka: I Really dont think he will be…

(long awkward scilence)

Hux: He’s drowning isn’t he? 

Mitaka: It appears that way. 

Hux: Ugh fine! 

(He goes after him and Drags him out which is definitely a struggle) 

Hux: (dragging him by his foot onto the beach) Why are You So fucking heavy?! (Looking up to Phasma who’s tanning on the Shore) Thank you so much for your help Phasma!

(Phasma Holds up a drink nodding to them) 

Hux: (sets him down on the wet sand) Well he’s breathing (slaps him on the face) 

Kylo: (coming to, spitting out ocean water) Hey! That wasn’t mouth to mouth… (looks down disappointed) 

Hux: (sarcastically) Oh no! he stopped breathing guess I can’t save him! 

Kylo: (glancing at himself) Oh! my shorts fell off in the water, and your kind of straddling me so- 😏

Hux: (glances down instinctively and quickly looks back up) Mitaka? 

Mitaka: Yes sir? 

Hux: Google if It it’s legal to feed someone to the sharks.

~The end~

That Guy: Has anyone seen my wife yet?

@lessdenied @fives-ren @jaynesilver @thegeneralorder @diabollicallyangelic

@existing-sadly

@theosb0rnway

@dragonflies-draw-flame @hpdmism @fridayincarnate @tomatette

@transmasc-vampire-is-tired

@bostarsky

@kyluxshortshorts

[theyy-heartt-valentinee]

“— is to be struck by your electric love.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ───────── 💌 ೀ⋆ ┊ 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅

about me ೀ⋆ - i’m 17 years old - my birthday is august 19 same as hayden christensen’s! - i have three dogs! a german shepherd named oakley, a collie named rikki, and a burmese mountain dog named socks - "sister, i'm robbing the store." / "OH MY GOD, WHO WROTE THIS!?" - i'm from palm springs, cali!! - "i might not be good at charmspeak but one thing i can do is take ur mannnnn.." - val, talking to drew and [probs] joking

- people say i'm a serious klepto and a little bit toxic

- only a bit of a witch. - no, i am not rachel. all ginger girls with curly hair do not look the same.. talking to you, connor. - i am a daughter of aphrodite, cabin 10!! woo!! hey nashla!!! - i love baking, reading, jellycats, star wars, animals, the beach, smoothies, shopping, shoes, money and boys, girly stuff, journalling, fruit, flowers, gardening, and travelling - i loveee surfing - honestly sketchy for a ginger who loves puppies and cupcakes - my fav flowers are snapdragons! i like how they bite its so cutee - my biological sister is silena beauregard, and i miss her sm - only a little freaky .. - my fav color is ballet pink!! - my fav foods are chicken alfredo and ice cream!! - i help take care of the younger kids at camp half-blood and lead the activities for them - the bug in ya hair, mama.. | get it! - i may or may not have the fattest crush on a very very specific blonde superman .. haha.. haha.. 𝓱𝓪𝓱𝓪.. - piper mclean can kiss my— - she / her - i'm greek and kind of australian! [my dad's from adelaide so i have family over thereee!] - my fav animals are horses, leopards, pegasi, giraffes, bats, dogs, bunnies, budgies, and pretty much anything cute - def a shopping addict!! - blonde on the inside - "i don't stop when i'm tired, i stop when i'm done." - marilyn monroe - i loveee frank ocean, old taylor swift, clairo, sza, etc!!!

i loveeee.. i loooveee..

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

valentine speaks ೀ⋆ - "i grew up without my baby sister silena, a stepmom who's kind of the worst, and my dad is literally the best. at age 12, on the way to school one day, a chimera was posing as an old woman's who's car was flipped in the ditch. of course, me and my dad get out to help, because hellloooo?? but anyways, we get out to help this old woman and she turns, and my dad can see through the mist so he whips out his pistol [this is normal sc behavior] and tried to shoot the chimera but it easily knocks him to the side and there's when "my" saytr shows up like three years late and escorts me to camp. my dad turned out to be okay and sadly my stepmom is okay but yeah. i don't really blame silena, i was there for the battle of manhattan, and i lost a piece of myself when she died. i don't know why she thought it was a good idea to pretend to be clarisse but it's been so difficult without her here. i'm the oldest of me and silena. she'd gotten to camp before me, and my dad had told me that she just went to live with our grammy in new york.

fast forwards a few years, silena's bunk was under mine, and i don't let anyone stay under there. silena was my girl and i was hers and nobody's taking her place. i quickly became friends with drew tanaka, but she and i kind of seperated a little. pollux and i got kind of close because we both lost a sibling and bonded through that, but he has booze, and that's usually what i come and see him for. for a short time, i was the aphrodite cabin councelor, but was overthrown by piper. [honestly ew.] i met carter and sadie not too long ago, after accidentally making anubis mad percy told me that i would probably have to go sort things out so i went to go find carter and sadie so we could apologize to anubis and he'd stop having aggressive wild dogs show up on my front porch and tear into my flowerbeds. after percy went missing and we got that absolute dream jason grace at camp, i was on the argo ii with them for the first part before the prophecy shifted and i wasn't really needed anymore. hazel and i are like best friends i love hazel, and when i met reyna i was like wow reyna is sosososo pretty but she's kind of mean but idk i love reyna anyways. jason is the sweetest he's so handsome and gentle but rough and mmmmhhhmm.. percy's nice too, i guess. i love annabeth too!! annabeth is the smartest, prettiest, best girl i know aaaa and rachel's the sweetest but people mix us up every now and again if they don't know us very well because of the red hair. leo's fine. frank aaaa frank's so kind and him and hazel are so so cute together!! jealoussss!! anywhoo.. i sort of fell in love. and being a child of aphrodite, that's like- very important to me. honestly, i fall in love all the time. i think my mama just likes to watch me cry over boys i can't have. like my handsome boy. the only thing standing between me and him is reality.

and then there’s bodhi grey carter. he’s.. gorgeous. a good distraction. but, he has the sweetest smile, he’s so cheesy and he’s good in bed.. but.. the ache for the other guy is still there. bo’s the best, and i feel bad, but if bo’s happy, it’s alright i guess. i'm basic... i like parties, i like boys, i like makeup, all of that.” ───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

appearance ೀ⋆ - long, soft, ginger curls that reach my lower back, pale-ish skin with tons of freckles, dark caramel brown eyes, my body type is pear-shaped with a little bit of tummy, one tiny scar underneath my jaw from falling off of my bunk when i was younger, and longer legs with a shorter torso!

───────── ౨ৎ ───────── - this is a pjo roleplay blog, my main account is @sexxyyyyvivv

[glazedsnail]

Ok so, I'm really close to finishing my small fanfic thing and I'm actually happy about how it turned out.

I didn't think of a title for it so I'll go with:

And Misery Loved Company

Title might and will change because I have absolutely no self control and no sense of permanence

I'll post it in chapters and stuff.

This first doesn't really work as a chapter but I thought I'd have to cut it somewhere and be able to give youse a taste?

So here's a sample.

TWs are for the whole work, not this particular sample sorry horns friends.

Stardew Valley fanfic ShanexOCFarmer(Female) 18+ swear words/substance misuse/explicit/suicide ideation/mention of abuse

I’ve been in this town for a few months, and already so much has happened.

I didn’t know the first thing about farming, and now look at me. I wear overalls, a straw hat, I use a pitchfork, sometimes. I have dirt on my hands, my knees, my legs, my arms, my ass. Everywhere really. 

I’m… Moderately successful in the matter of crops and sheep handlings. And I just know my quality wool will one day fetch a very high price on the shelf of some high end stores. If only I could handle those blasted sheep correctly. 

I wanted to give up, like I’d given up so many things before. So many times. But when I managed to spool my own skein of wool, from my very own sheep, I knew I had to keep at it. I cannot wait to start knitting with my very own wool. 

Trust me, this was an even better feeling than when I ate my first omelette made from the eggs of my own chickens. And I do love my chickens! 

Of course, I met a lot of new people. Marnie, for one, is my farm neighbour. She helped me shear my first sheep, and eased me into farm animals ownership. I had never owned anything bigger than a guinea pig. And that guinea pig wasn’t too fond of me anyway. She entrusted me with the care of two sheep and three chickens.

The man who came to deliver my chicks is her nephew. I had met him a handful of times. At the supermarket where he works, at Marnie’s ranch, as he apparently rents a room from her, but mostly at the saloon. We never talked much compared to the others. He wouldn’t let me, and I would let him. At the time.

He wanted to make sure I had a suitable home for the chicks. He didn’t seem too pleased to do the work, to be there, at all. I remember barely getting a “mornin’” when he came in, and he would certainly not stick around for coffee or a chit chat.

I mean, he was completely being his usual self. I wasn’t surprised. The only surprise was that I actually did put the kettle on just in case.

However, once he opened the crate, the man constantly frowning at the bottom of a glass, and who had quite literally told me to “fuck off” was somehow… beaming? He handled the chicks with such tenderness, it almost made me feel bad to buy them off. Suddenly, he was sharing his knowledge of chicken care, making sure I was ready, and showing some incredible kindness towards the three little chicks I had gotten from Marnie.

Everytime he was giving me the brush off, I would remember his kind eyes from that day, and it would give me enough drive to persevere. Maybe too much, definitely too much for his taste. I was persistent, perhaps annoying, absolutely intrusive. When I saw those caring eyes almost close forever, I witnessed the dormant strength hiding within, and I knew.

Today, I’m meeting him at the beach.

I made a pizza from my own flour, with sauce from my own tomatoes. Cheese and pepperoni are from Pierre’s, the grocer, but come on. The base is homemade therefore this is a homemade pizza. And who cares where I got the olive oil, salt, and yeast from…

I have been looking forward to this, hum, evening, I guess. I was going to say “date”. Surprisingly, we did kiss.

Moving to Grandpa’s old farm was in no way a scheme to get me on the dating scene again, not after everything in the city, not after 30. And certainly not with a man as rude as him. Crazy how things can change drastically with time.

The kiss was more a heat of the moment type of thing. I liked it. Though.

He wouldn’t have suggested this picnic at the beach if he wasn’t thinking the same.

I pack my homemade pizza, homegrown dried and fresh hot peppers, a pack of six, and some muffins I made with my own eggs, own flours, and my own seeds. It amazes me how good I am at this farm living thing. I hope Grandpa is watching. Mostly.

The air is still warm, but the leaves have started to fall. I smell the distinct perfume of rain in the distance. Here, so far, the slowly darkening afternoon sky is still clear.

I’m nervous. I feel something I could describe as…this high schooler heading to meet with their crush and spend some time alone for the first time. I gulp. This definitely rings somewhat familiar. I mean, I didn’t put on any of my best underwear though. I’m too old for this.

Damn. Listen to me.

I shake my head to get rid of those idiotic thoughts as I walk past the village waterhole. I wave at the villagers who have now become my friends. Emily points at my basket and I remind her of my dinner plan. She smiles with all her pearly whites while commanding me to wait. She shortly comes back out of the saloon with a mist up tupperware filled with warm pepper poppers, and a bottle of strawberry juice. My favourite.

‘Emily, you shouldn’t have!’

‘Oh Fern, please. It was also Gus’ idea. You must know all we want is the best for you.’ She grins.

‘Pardon?’

She laughs and disappears behind the wooden door. Well. She’s always been a bit of a nutcase. Affectionately though.

When I stand on the sand, I hear Shane over the rolling waves, calling me, and my nervousness instantly disappears. He’s still wearing his work hat, probably came here straight after work. He spreaded a blanket and had started dishing out a bunch of snacks from his bag.

‘Well, we won’t starve!’ I laugh, emptying my basket. As I sit down I see Shane glance at the glass bottle Emily gave me.

‘Is that strawberry juice?’

‘Yeah. Emily gave it to me on my way here. Look, she also gave me these! Compliment of Gus. They’re your favourite aren’t they?’

I smile so hard the corners of my mouth might crack. I’m just comfortable.

‘Y..Yeah’

He obviously is not.

‘Are you ok? What’s that you just rammed in your bag?’

‘Nothing. Is that homemade pizza?’

I’m way too proud to continue probing. I happily remove the cloth from the plate:

‘Pepperoni! Just like you like it.’

He smiles and chuckles, visibly embarrassed.

‘What’s the matter?’ I ask. He quickly glances at his bag. ‘Do you know you still have your work hat on?’

He looks up, grumbles, and removes his hat he tries to put in his bag. Bag now at my arm's length.

‘What are you hiding!’ I say, snatching the surprisingly heavy backpack from him.

‘Fern!’

I pull out two plastic bottles.

‘Joja strawberry juice?’

He quickly grabs his bag back in a groan.

‘But, why were you hiding it?’

‘I know it’s your favourite.’ He sighs. ‘Just wanted to, like, surprise you and be nice is all.’ He frowns, and blushes lightly. ‘I didn’t know this was such common knowledge, and now you’ve been given the nice stuff in a glass bottle and all you probably won’t want my Joja crap.’

I catch myself giggling.

‘What’s so funny?’ He snaps.

‘Shane, that’s incredibly sweet. Thank you.’ I cradle the bottles in my arms like the most cherished present. ‘You know I used to drink these all the time when I was a teen, I’ve not had any in ages. Truth be told I thought they were discontinued.’

He seems to relax a bit.

‘It’s full of crap’ he smiles ‘Maybe it’s gone in the city and they just get rid of it in small towns’.

‘No, they still sell Joja beer everywhere, trust me.’

We laugh, I’m glad he seems a bit more in the moment.

‘You know’ I start ‘Emily’s barmaid, it makes sense she’d know my favourite drink, right?’ He nods in acknowledgement ‘But, knowing your favourite dish? I should be the jealous one.’

His eyes open wide.

‘I…err… It’s not jealousy it’s’

‘I’m just teasing’ I say, gently elbowing him

‘I’m such an idiot.’ He says back, hand on the back of his neck, with a slight smile nonetheless.

‘You’re not an idiot. You’re cute.’

I hand him a slice of pizza I was busy cutting. His cheeks turn bright red and he tries to disappear in his hoodie. I clearly didn’t realise what I said. He eventually clears his throat and grabs the slice with a small ‘thank you’.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi.

It’s camp anon.

I’m back.

Idk if I told u how long camp would be.

I’d thought it was supposed to be 10 days.

But it ended up being 2 weeks.

I got off school a bit earlier than usual cause my exams finished.

And I got a bit of time before the camp.

But the time the summer holidays started meant camp started.

It wasn’t like the other one. There were 18 year olds there. And half of the kids there were there voluntarily.

Like everything they did to us, they chose to be there for it.

And a bunch of the leaders were clearly past versions of us. Who got fucking tricked and bullied into thinking they somehow cured their fucking queerness. Like they’re proof of a miracle. 

This is dumb. This is all so dumb.

Someone needs to wake these idiots up. 

They can’t change who they are just as much as I- Ugh. 

ANYWAY, that’s over now. 

Season 4 of Umbrella academy is coming out in a few days which is exciting :) And, i’m reading a new book which is pretty good so… yeah.

Making plans with my friends and stuff, got a lot of pre school work to do for next yr. 

You teach right? So you have the summer off rn too? That’s like the only benefit of teaching, you know, that and shaping young minds… have you gone on holiday yet? Do Americans leave America when they go on holiday? 

I saw your conan fic fest- I cannot wait to read those fics, I loveeee conan grays songs.

Yeah… that’s all.

ahhh yay, you're back!

I'm so glad you're safe and okay! it sounds like you're relatively unharmed?

I'm so glad you have plans made and things to look forward to, but if you need to rant or vent more, I'm here. I can only imagine the awful things they said, and it's good to get it out. My inbox is open <3

I do teach! I can't afford a big vacation this year, but I went to the local beach a few times! Now I'm starting to get back into the school mindset.

I can;t wait to read all the fics too! So exciting!

[cold-heart-warm-writings]

The Host Club’s Summer Reading Plans

Honey - Finally getting to his backlog of Stephen King novels. He is looking forward to the confused looks on peoples’ faces when they walk by and see his cute baby face reading the scariest and most disturbing books known to man. 

Mori - Audiobooks. This man has some big summer plans between training and competitions, so he’s found a few audiobooks to download. A lot of books on history, Japanese samurai history, a few world economy books but tbh he might skip those

Kaoru - Summer is the only time of the year where Kaoru can get away with playing video games and binge reading manga all day. No one is on his case to study extra or to do something, so he loves getting caught up on all of his favorite series.

Hikaru - Whattup I’m Jared Hikaru, I’m 19 and I never learned how to read. Just kidding, being the codependent brother that he is, he reads manga over Kaoru’s shoulder until Kaoru can’t take the heat literally, and makes Hikaru wait to read the volumes once he’s done with them. 

Haruhi - Haruhi loves making a huuuuge and impossible TBR list, and then reads like ... 11 pages from a singular book. Most of the books are “for fun” books, contemporary, nothing too heavy. Just ways to escape for a little while. 

Kyoya - Hot take… he does not read. He does not read “for fun.” Everything has a purpose. He reads to study, he reads so he knows where to take Tamaki on their next travel trip, he reads to get ahead, he does not waste his time on fictional nonsense. He brings a business related book on the big family vacation to appease his mom, but 1) she complains that it’s not a relaxing or fun book, and 2) the information is worthless anyways and stuff Kyoya already knows. He leaves it on the nightstand. 

Tamaki - Summer romance beach reads type of hopeless romantic. He claims it’s “for the Host Club” because he will better know what the ladies like and how to better meet their ~fantasies~. Really, he just likes reading about people who are loved and found families. 

[prismaticflare]

Colorful - Part 1 (G)

Fandom - Our Life : Beginnings and Always

Pairing - Cove Holden / Gender Neutral Reader

After a day at the beach, you learn a shocking fact about Cove. Takes place in Part 2

It was another perfect summer day in Sunset Bird. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and you were ecstatic to enjoy the day with whatever random activities came your way.

You had just finished breakfast when a knocking came to your door.

“Can you get that?” Ma asked from the couch. “I mean, I’m willing to bet that it’s for you, anyways. There’s really only one person who visits us.”

“Ma!” You squealed, blushing.

“You know I’m kidding.” Ma giggled, earning a glare from Mom, who was sitting next to her.

You ignored their antics and rushed to the door, opening it to see Cove, dressed only in his swimming trunks, swaying nervously at the front door.

“Oh, hey!” Cove stuttered out. “I was going to go to the beach, and, um, if you’d like…”

“I’ll join you!” You said, interrupting Cove’s stuttering. You were pretty sure that was what he was going to ask you, anyways.

“Oh! Um…” Cove said in shock, readjusting his conversation, as if he had planned everything out beforehand and now had to reword his proposition (which, knowing Cove, was almost certainly true). “Sure, I’d love that.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” You replied. “See you in a minute!”

And with that, you rushed off to your room to find the perfect swimsuit for the occasion. Living on a beach you had plenty to choose from, so you quickly changed into your favorite one, and grabbed anything else you could need. You had no idea what you were actually planning to do, but knowing you and Cove, it would mainly consist of just floating in the water and chatting.

After grabbing everything you needed, you rushed downstairs.

“I’m gonna go meet up with Cove at the beach.” You told your moms while you were double-checking that you had everything.

“Okay, have fun!” Ma replied.

“Elizabeth has an event today, so all three of us will probably be gone when you get back. Don’t get any sand or water in the house.” Mom added.

“I won’t! Bye!”

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

Arriving at the beach, you saw Cove already splashing in the waves. Ever since he got his cast removed, Cove practically lived on the beach. Nowadays, you rarely saw him elsewhere. You didn’t mind though. The beach was the perfect place to spend free time, and if it meant a lot to Cove, it meant a lot to you.

When you finally caught up to Cove, you dropped your stuff next to his, and met up with him. “So, what’s the plan?” you asked, slowly entering the water. “Spending time with you.” Cove said, causing both of you to blush at Cove’s forwardness.

And that’s what happened. You two just spent your day relaxing in the water, occasionally opting to do more stimulating things like racing in the water or building sandcastles. But, for the most part, you just chatted. Even though you saw each other practically every day, you always seemed to have things to talk about. That’s just how it went with Cove.

Eventually, though, you realized it was getting late. While you originally planned to go straight home, you remembered that your parents and Elizabeth were all gone. You also remembered Mom’s strict rules on not getting any of the beach in the house, and looking at the state you were in, that didn’t seem very possible.

“Hey Cove?” You asked while packing up your stuff.

“What?” Cove asked.

“Do you mind if I clean up at your place instead? It’ll be a lot easier, plus, your dad cares a lot less about getting sand and water in the house.

“Um…” Cove blushed, squirming to find the right answer. “Sure, if you want.”

“Okay, thanks!” You replied, as you both headed back to Cove’s place.

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

When you got to Cove’s house, you pretty much directly went to his room, passing his dad on the way there. Kyra was gone this evening, so it was only him. Cove insisted that you cleaned up before him, so after quickly rinsing off, you traded places with Cove so he could clean up himself.

While Cove was in the shower, you opted to sit on the floor of his bedroom, waiting for him to be done. You were just relaxing, twiddling your thumbs, when you heard a voice from the bathroom. You walked over to the bathroom door to try to figure out what he was saying.

“Were you talking to me?” You asked, leaning your ear against the bathroom door.

“Yeah, um, so, sorry if this is a bother, but in my bedroom there should be a bottle with some seafoam-colored liquid in it. Could you grab it for me? I normally would myself, but, um…”

“Sure, I can grab it.” You replied before the conversation went in a very awkward direction. After scouring the room, you finally found the bottle, or at least what you thought he was looking for. To your shock, however, it was labeled as temporary hairdye! While it makes logical sense that Cove didn’t naturally have green hair, you had never really thought about it. And it definitely surprised you that it wasn’t permanent.

With the bottle in hand, you went back to the bathroom, knocking on the door before telling him that you had the bottle. Slowly and tentatively, the door opened, revealing a profusely blushing Cove wearing nothing but a towel, avoiding eye-contact with you as much as possible.

In any other situation, you would be blushing too, but your mind was much more focused on something else. Cove was blond! I mean, it made sense. His father was (although you weren’t confident about that being natural), and you’d need light hair to get the color that Cove usually wore. Still, it felt so odd, seeing Cove like this.

“I know, it looks weird.” Cove said, making you realize you had been staring at it for longer than you probably should have.

“I think it suits you.” You said, leaning against the wall.

“Why?” Cove asked, going back to the shower and closing the curtains so you could still talk with him while he re-dyed his hair.

“It fits your whole surfer-dude aesthetic.” You laugh. It made him look even more like a basic surfer boy than he already did.

“That’s why I hate it.” Cove groaned. “Well, that and it’s way too boring.”

Finally, Cove left the shower, wrapping his head in a towel to allow it to dry and let the color to soak in.

“Than why don’t you permanently dye it? I mean, I think you’d look great either way, but if you prefer it green, you should keep it that way.”

“Dad wouldn’t let me.” Cove said, sighing.

“What? How do you know? Did you ask him?” You asked. Cove’s dad always felt like the type to not care about that kind of stuff, so him banning permanent hairdye would be a shocker to you. I mean, at this point, it was practically permanent, so he couldn’t care that much.

“Well, not really.” Cove said slowly, as if he was realizing that his assumption may not have actually been true. “But most parents don’t allow that kind of stuff.”

“Most parents don’t offer kids 20 bucks to be friends with their kid.” You laughed. Cove never found it as funny as you, but at least it gave him easy blackmail on his dad.

“Fair.” Cove replied. “So, should I go, like, ask him?”

“Why not?” You responded.

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

Following Cove into the living room, you were met with Mr. Holden sitting on the couch, eating some sort of snack and watching surfing on the TV. You never really understood why he watched that, he could literally walk outside to see it, but you never really bothered asking.

“Hey Dad?” Cove asked from the hallway, sticking close to you.

“What’s up kiddo?” His dad responded.

“Would you be okay if I dyed my hair?”

“What?” Cove’s dad replied in utter confusion.

“I mean, like, permanently.” Cove replied, nervously fiddling with his thumbs. 

It took Cove’s dad a few more seconds before Cove’s statement finally settled on him, causing him to laugh at the realization. “Kiddo, I thought you dyed it permanently a long time ago!”

“You did?” Cove asked.

“Of course I did! I didn’t expect you to be dyeing your hair temporarily for the last who knows how many years! Go ahead and dye your hair. It’ll probably save me a lot of money if you’ve been doing it temporarily this whole time!”

“Thanks Dad!” Cove replied with a sigh of relief.

“You’re welcome kiddo.” Mr. Holden responded, still clearly in shock that his son had been dying his hair temporarily for this many years straight.

“And thanks to you too.” He said, returning his attention to you. “I totally wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

“You’re welcome. I had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t actually care.”

“Yeah, I guess it makes more sense that way.”        

part 1 | part 2 

[cantevenbeachhere]

Dear Ken Diary,

So I totally think I’m like improving and progressing! At least a little bit anyway. I’ll tell ya why.

Soooooooo like we all know what next month is. It actually starts tomorrow now that I think about it. But anyway, tomorrow starts February, and we all know what holiday’s in February. Yup. That one.

Valentine’s Day.

Last year was rough. Like really rough. The first one without Barbie and the first one where I’m like “Ken is me but who is Ken??????” I used to look forward to Valentine’s Day because Barbie and I actually got to do things together. No girls night, no boys night, no whatever. Just a day where it was more than okay for me to dote on Barbie. And for me to get some doting on in return.

And yeah, before you ask, Barbie did dote on me some on Valentine’s Day. Regardless of what she actually felt about me, she at least cared enough to not make Valentine’s Day embarrassing for me. And not doting on me would’ve done that.

But retrospect definitely tells me she didn’t dote as much as I did, but whatever.

Anyway! Back to now! So like last year sucked, but this year I’m actually not dreading it? I mean, it’s still like too early to tell. We’ll see how I’m feeling once February rolls around and all the Valentine decorations and candy and flowers arrive. Then I’ll have a better idea of how this year’s gonna go.

Let’s see, I know Lawyer Barbie and her Ken are hosting the Hearts Entwined Dance this year. Probably won’t go to that.

Beach will be kinda busy because a night under the stars by Ocean is a pretty popular venue for dates, especially Valentine’s Day.

The cinema will be pretty crowded too probably, maybe. The theater might not be though, so that would be a fun option for me that night.

Valentine’s Day would be on a Friday night this year too.

Well, I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet on that day, but I’ll figure it out.

I do have special treats for Pepper and Polly! They’ll be my valentines this year. And they like all the snuggles and treats and attention.

I’ve also heard that like some people take themselves on dates? Like that can be a thing? According to Ordinary Barbie anyway, and she like knows stuff like Weird Barbie knows stuff. But I think that might be kinda like…I dunno, a little too much for Valentine’s Day.

I also kinda sorta wonder what Barbie will be doing on Valentine’s Day but at the same time like I don’t wanna know. Like at all. But I do. But I don’t.

I miss her.

But not like as my girlfriend…or whatever she thought we were. But as my friend. Ya know, for a long time it was just the two of us in Barbie Land. Lots of time to get to know a person. Not to mention having her in my life for over 6 decades.

This is my new normal, but it still doesn’t feel normal. Sometimes it feels like it’s the first day where it hits me what it means for her to be gone, and some days are a lot better than that.

I’m making myself sad; I gotta stop.

I have enough trouble with feelings sometimes without me adding more to it on purpose.

I’m gonna go see if any of the Kens wanna play video games.

[trollsedits]

Hi, I really liked the brozone as the weeknd song headcanons can you maybe do one for Lana Del Rey I really loved listening to her song heheh I don't know if you ever heard of her song but I suggested you do haha

Also take your time I understand that you have school and stuff to do no rush at all! looking forward to reading it

Awww! I’m so glad you liked it anyways I absolutely love Lana del Rey I listen to her song 24/7 I would lock myself in my room and just listen to her song all day and night I love her soft songs 💕

Anyways I was debating whether I should do brozone as her album or just song but imma stick to songs just like what I did with the weeknd anyway so I hope you like it!!

(Also thanks for being so patient with me I know school work and life is so hard for me but thanks for understanding and being super patient I do apologize if it taken me this long to get back to you 💕)

Brozone as Lana Del Rey Songs ♫♪:

Again I’m going off base on what song I think fits them not base off their personality (well maybe) but yeah again if you don’t agree with my song choices for them I’m sorry but it just how I think fits best for them :)

————————-

John Dory:

-Off to the races

-Ride

-how to disappear

-doin’ time

-the greatest

-change

-tomorrow never came

-fucked my way up to the top

-old money

-lucky ones

-freak

-god knows I tried

-young & beautiful

-thunder

Bruce:

-Love

-Lust for life

-beautiful people beautiful problems

-Coachella- Woodstock in my mind

-California

-happiness is a butterfly

-wild at heart

-Honeymoon

-love song

-paris,Texas

-13 beaches

-say yes to heaven

-violets for roses

-god bless America- and all the women in it

-take me home,country roads

-looking for America

-burning desire

-Cola

-lost at sea

Clay:

-Body Electric

-money power glory

-million dollar man

-don’t let me be misunderstood

-the blackest day

-Textbook

-summer bummer

-not all who wander are lost

-dealer

-living legend

-for free

-Cherry

-west coast

-born to die

Floyd:

-summertime sadnesses

-ultraviolence

-video games

-blue jeans

-pretty when you cry

-radio

-gods & monster

-yayo

-music to watch boys to

-art deco

-swan song

-white mustang

-in my feelings

-heroin

-fuck it I love you

-chemtrails over the country club

-breaking up slowly

Branch:

-dance til we die

-dark but just a game

-without you

-when the world was at war we kept dancing

-high by the beach

-diet Mountain Dew

-national anthem

-dark paradise

-cruel world

-if you lie down with me

-let the light in

————————————

Anyways, thanks again for the request Anyways if you want to request me just click under my profile “Ask me anything”

———————-

Like + Follow are very much appreciated! ✨

[lornrocks]

My hobbies include getting into weird arguments with strangers online about Disneyland vs Disney world.

Also idk who keeps saying that Disneyland is a locals park. Bruh it’s fucking not. Half the people we meet when we go are not even from this country let alone Southern California.

The current discourse is the alleged confirmation that they will build something Avatar at Disneyland and how “no one wants this” (maybe true?) and how “people can just go to Florida to see pandora” (buddy if I live on the west coast, which I do, do you know expensive it is to fly to Florida? Last time we went I had to miss an extra day at work because our flight got so delayed we got stuck in salt lake at like 11:30pm at night and had to stay at a hotel and come home the next day)

I’m gonna be real here. As a life long Disneylander, Disney world is only good for: 1. About 8 rides unique from Disneyland’s 2. About 10-15 unique restaurants 3. Several cool, unique resorts 4. Merch exclusive to those parks (and tbh some of which I can buy from resellers)

So we went in 2013 for my college grad and that was our first time and we did the private safari (highly recommend) and took one day to go to islands of adventure. We did a LOT of stuff (not the water parks) and my favorite park then was Epcot bc of how unique it was.

Then we went again in 2018 and my favorite park was AK because of expedition Everest and Pandora and seeing the flamingos. And of course I loved all the shopping and restaurants.

We were planning to go this year but due to my friends’ health problems are pushing it back to next year hopefully and the stuff I’m looking forward to (besides showing my friends who have never been what’s up) is: 1. Cosmic rewind 2. Tron 3. Flight of passage (and pandora generally) 4. My beloved tower of terror 5. Every single restaurant I can get my hands on 6. All the merchandise 7. Staying at a different resort (we did French quarter and Caribbean beach the last 2 times) and 8. Expedition everest (almost forgot)

Like as fun as the rides are if’s almost exclusively about shopping, food, and cool places to take photos of. Which is also true of DLR but DLR has the dinkiest shopping area, very few super cool unique dining experiences, and the same 3 hotels. And at this point I’ve been to DLR so much I’ve taken photos of like. Every thing. Ever.

ANYWAY TLDR

North America and the US are quite large and a lot of Americans, me included, do not want to trek all the way to the other side of the country so yes, I would not be surprised if DLR and WDW continue to share attractions, restaurants, and experiences.

[rothjuje]

Loved all your comments on my solo travel inquiry. A couple people said FOMO is real, and you were right. I told Justin I was going to plan trips with or without him and then the following week he started planning one for us hahaha.

Summer. Every time there is a break from school, every time, I think ooh this is going to be so nice, get to sleep in, not worry about the crazy of different schedules etc. No. No Jess. The kids will wake up even earlier with instant whines of “I’m borrred!”

Tuesday we did a farm, a park, and then the lake for $1 ice cream. Wednesday we played/swam at the lake for most of the day. Thursday we went to a touch a truck event, the library, a park, and then swimming at a friend’s pool. And this morning the kids played happily for an hour before the “I’m borrred” and constant bickering started. Whyyy. I’m so tired. George and I have been going to bed early/sleeping late to recover. I’m also old so I’m sore and had to take Motrin to walk straight after 3 nonstop days, oy.

One of my best friends up here has a pool. We hang together several times a week because she also has a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Anyway, was super excited to use her pool this summer but turns out my pool fantasy is really more of a nightmare. George simply will not get in after several days of coaxing. But he does love to throw things into the pool. Dirt. Towels. Shoes. Clothes. Phones. It hasn’t been fun. My friend is convinced that pools are relaxing for adults and fun for kids. But she also ingests a lot of weed. I ingest no weed and I find George at the pool to be very, very stressful. He won’t wear a swim diaper or a floaty (not that he gets in but I am very fearful of him falling in while he bends over the edge trying to retrieve stuff he’s chucked in).

Anyway. My friend says I’m letting anxiety control my life. The pool dilemma is causing us to butt heads. But. Why should I take my neurodivergent child who is unaware of drowning or consequences in general to a pool where I have to constantly control his behavior? I mean anything sounds more fun than that. If he was my only kid then okay, but I have to constantly leave him in the pool area to take the girls to the bathroom or get them a snack etc and maybe it is anxiety. Maybe it is secondary trauma from our first placement who had brain damage from a near drowning incident. Or maybe it’s normal to not feel relaxed while at the pool with 3 kids that don’t know how to swim, one being neurodivergent.

I can understand her feelings being hurt that I no longer want to bring the kids over, but I am honestly so sick of having to explain to people that trying to keep George safe in certain situations is mentally taxing eg by bodies of water or in busy downtown areas (he likes to be near the street so he can watch trucks go by).

Sigh.

I’m just tired of being the uptight friend. I’m so chill at home or at fenced in parks or at the beach or lake (George and Genna love sand/playing at the shore). I hate being the one to constantly veto plans or control where they take place. Honestly, I rather my friends just hang out without us and let me escape to the low-stress lake that no one else wants to go to. But they feel guilty and then I feel bad and ugh.

Is there a solution I’m missing?

Anyway. So so excited for a normal weekend without recitals or holidays, it’s been almost a month since our last normal/chill weekend. I’m looking forward to catching up on chores which probably sounds boring but the state of our house and lack of clean laundry is starting to super stress me out. I’m also so behind on gardening stuff, some of my plant babies desperately need to be replanted or pruned.

I probably sound like the least fun person after this post 😂