#did they get him to sing on camera out him own free will?

[onmytape]

aux pre game or post game?

[featherandferns]

god's test (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | inspired by this song amongst others

content warning: abusive parents; allusions to s3xual abuse; drug use/misuse; sexual content (female and male receiving; p in v); unhealthy relationships; brief mentions/discussions of fertility | Some heavy themes in this so please feel free to message if you're unsure.

word count: 18k.

blurb: what if the Pogues never found El Dorado? Life in survival mode at the age of twenty-two sure had lost its shine. In that tarnish, JJ wonders if your relationship has too.

“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til' death do us part.”

JJ sits crossed legged on the floor of his living room. To his right is a half empty can of Coke and to his left is the plastic case for the VHS tape which is currently whirring in the player, displayed on the TV through grainy, wibbly lines. His bright blonde hair sticks every which way. The Goodwill sourced t-shirt is too big on his frame but his dad insisted he’d grow into it, and to stop his moaning and bitching. Be grateful, was his last warning. The shorts on his skinny legs seem to be getting smaller everyday, perhaps because JJ only seems to get taller. That slight discomfort is a lost thought right now. Instead, JJ is glued to the wedding video on the screen. Glued to the image of his mother, smiling up at his father, the two of them unaged and undamaged. The two of them are in love. 

“I do,” JJ’s dad, Luke, says in an almost unrecognisable tone. Then, he leans forward at the officiant’s approval and kisses JJ’s mother. JJ misses her deeply. His heart squeezes at the sight of her smile, turning to the camera with a beam. He finds his own lips twitching up too as if her happiness is contagious. Then the tape cuts suddenly to the reception. It seems a small affair with only a handful of friends and family. JJ can place his uncle and aunt, who cradles his cousin Ricky in her arms, and a few more of his dad’s crowd of so-called friends. His mother can be seen in the background talking to her parents - JJ’s grandparents. They’d made themselves scarce after she walked out on JJ and his dad. Never once did JJ think he’d lose not only his mother but his grandparents too. Loneliness likes company, it seems. 

Another sudden cut and it’s his parents dancing. Their first dance. The dark lighting of the hall messes with the low-quality cam-corder's exposure. They’re painted in rays of shadows and glow almost ethereal-like as they sway to the music. Luke whispers something in his new wife’s ear and she giggles, soundless as the crooning voice of Rod Stewart sings their wedding song: ‘Have I Told You Lately’. JJ grins. He decides then and there, at the big age of eight, that that’s what he wants. That sort of happiness. As if blinded by the cinema of it all, he forgets the reality. The mess that surrounds him in the neglected house; the absence of his mother and the recklessness of his father; the strange definition of love that’s been tied to the Maybank name. 

So distracted by the tape, JJ doesn’t hear his dad rouse in the other room. He doesn’t hear the sound of the creaking door or the aching floorboards, and when he finally catches sight of Luke staggering down the hallway, it’s too late. His dad has caught sound of the song and it’s as if he’s intoxicated again, only now with rage. He glares at JJ and makes a b-line to the television screen, coming face to face with his hidden wedding tape. He had no idea JJ had found it and stashed it for his own safe keeping. 

“What the damn hell do you think you’re doing?” he barks, turning to JJ. He grabs him by the shoulder with one hand and hoists him onto his feet. JJ’s tiny body floods with terror. His feet go numb and cold and his face burning hot. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, huh boy!?” 

JJ flinches at his father’s tone. His lip quivers. “I…I only wanted–”

“You only wanted to what, huh? Stealing things like the no-good son-of-a-bitch you are, eh?” Luke hollers, spit flying from his mouth and onto JJ’s rosy skin. 

“I just wanted to see mama,” JJ blubbers. 

“You ain’t ever seein’ her again, you hear me?” Luke shouts. He tosses JJ back onto the floor. He lands on his backside with a smack, flinching at the feeling, and looks up to see his dad aggressively messing with the player. A new wave of panic comes over JJ as he jumps to his feet, darting forward for the tape before his dad can snap it in two. To JJ, it isn’t just a stupid VHS. It’s his mother. 

“No! Gimme it!” JJ screeches, scratching and clawing at his father’s arms as he attempts to wrestle the tape from his hold. His small hand latches around it moments before Luke’s own smacks him clean across the cheek. The force sends him flying onto his side, reuniting with the floor. Sobbing, JJ clutches the tape close to his chest. His dad yells abuse at JJ, tumbling cuss words in casually amongst his berates. Keeping the tape close and safe to his stomach, JJ manages to his feet and faces up to his father. An anger that he’s never known before takes control. “I hate you!” 

Before his dad can lunge for him again, JJ darts for the front door. He almost trips down the stairs in his hurry. The sound of his dad’s footsteps behind him sound like a giant’s, pounding against the floorboards. He chokes on his sobs as he sprints away from the house. I’m never coming back, he thinks to himself. That’ll show him. He doesn’t dare check to see if his dad is following. Not until he’s well away from the house, almost completely shot of breath, panting and heaving, no tears left to cry. Finally, he stops. He looks down at the tape with shaking hands to find it safe and intact. Luke and Marie’s Wedding Tape, it says in black sharpie across the front. He hugs it against him as if hugging his mother.

The moment of tranquillity is broken by a loud whoop and holler. His head flashes to the side to find a girl climbing on the old pier. It’s nearly completely decayed, broken down by a hurricane a few years back. Now it’s just pillars of wood, splintering and misaligned.

Some adult on the new pier is yelling at you. “I’ll tell your father, missy! You listenin’? You get down from there now!” Beside them are some friends, blissfully ignoring the warnings, cheering you on. You turn to them and JJ catches sight of your smile. It reminds him of his mother’s and a warm feeling sparks somewhere in his chest, as if lighting a match in a damp cave. The sun twinkles above your head and that’s when JJ notices the streak of hot pink in your hair. Woah - Cool. And then you’re falling - hurling yourself into the air and flying down into the water - out of sight. He takes a step forward, as if to do something, and waits anxiously with the others for you to re-emerge. You break to the surface with a cackle. Your friends erupt in cheers and you giggle, splashing water as if aiming for them despite being metres down below the pier. And then you look straight at JJ. It's just for a second, only a second, but a second was enough. Eight-year-old JJ Maybank was in love.

6 Years Later

Confidence is a powerful armour. It makes you almost untouchable. Nobody messes with the mouthy kid. The kid who gets in fights; the kid who makes the room laugh. JJ knew what it was like to be on the bottom of the food chain and he was never going to willingly put himself there. At school, he made himself a staple. A delinquent, known for his short fuse and reckless choices. It kept the bully’s off his scent and gave him a good outlet for the repressed anger and hatred he held towards his father. Though, the older he got (now fourteen), the more JJ fought back. His dad could no longer throw him to the ground as easily. Not now that JJ had taken up working out and picking fights in the school yard. Luke wasn’t the only one who knew how to throw a right-hook now. And the most important lesson JJ had learnt? Never let them see you cry. 

The downsides? Cut lips, lingering bruises, and detention. So much detention. 

“Nice of you to join us, Maybank,” the teacher mutters, not bothering to look up from his newspaper as JJ loiters into the classroom after school on Thursday. 

“Happy to be back, sir,” JJ casually returns. He scribbles his name down on the sign up sheet, confirming his attendance, then scans the room.

There’s the regulars: Tommy Peach, who’s always doing time for selling whatever pills he can get his hands on in the parking lot; Ashley, who has a habit of smoking in the girl’s bathrooms; Colin, who got spotted with a gun in his backpack just the other day, supposedly just to ‘show it off’; and Pearl, who skipped three classes in one day (her record being four and a half). He catches her eye and winks - they’d made out behind the bike shed last week. You can spot the one-time offenders easily. They’re usually hanging their head at the very back, biting back tears, full of shame for letting down mommy and daddy. JJ had a certain distaste for them. He supposed it was because he knew his father could give less of a crap if JJ wound up in detention. If anything, JJ preferred it. Less time for him to be in his house and less risk of getting a beating for some slip-up. This time, the new offender is Patty Grayson - a goody-two-shoes smarty pants who had forgotten her homework. JJ’s surprised they didn’t let it slide given her track record. Finally, his eyes land on another new timer. 

You’re not hanging your head as if praying for forgiveness, nor are you sobbing your apologies into the abyss. No: you look rather comfortable and - if anything - bored, as you lounge in your seat. A bottle of silver nail polish sits on the desk as you paint your nails. As if feeling his stare, you glance up and meet his gaze. You frown. Right, yeah, I’m being weird. JJ decides to take a seat next to you. He watches you in his peripheral vision for a while as you paint and paint. At one point, the teacher heads to the staff kitchen for dinner, giving a half-arsed warning about sneaking out. Pearl is happy to skip detention, probably addicted to the thrill, but everyone else stays sat. Suddenly, you look at JJ. 

“Can I help you?”

“Huh?”

“You keep looking at me,” you say, irritated. 

“I do?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, y’know…” You quirk a brow, waiting for his reply, and JJ scrambles for one. “Your hair.”

You frown. “What?”

“Your hair,” JJ uselessly repeats. 

“What about it?”

“It’s purple.”

“Yeah. I dye it. It’s not my natural colour, idiot,” you reply. 

“It looks nice,” JJ tells you. You’re visibly taken back, blinking at him for a second. 

“Oh,” you mumble, lifting a hand to pet it, “thanks.”

“You ain’t ever been to detention before, right?” JJ checks, finding it easier to converse now that you’ve calmed down. 

You laugh. It sounds just the same as when you were little, from the first time JJ saw you, but only deeper. More mature. “Cause I’m good at not gettin’ caught, unlike you.”

“Oh, you been keepin’ tabs on me or somethin’?” JJ grins. 

“You hold the record for the most detentions, Maybank. Sorta puts you on the map," you say with a roll of your eyes. 

Holy shit, she knows my name. 

“Maybe you’ll have to teach me your ways some time,” JJ smoothly quips. 

Shaking your head, you turn your focus back to painting your nails. “I work alone.”

Like some dork, JJ watches you for a while. Something tells him you know he is as there’s this little smile on your lips. His eyes trail down from your face to your arms and soon to your hands. Your knuckles are bruised and scabbed over and JJ frowns, curious and concerned despite having only just officially met you. Ever since the day at the pier back when he was eight, JJ had been vaguely aware of your existence. You were in the year above at school and undeniably cool. He’d seen you skating in the parking lot, caught you getting lectured for shoplifting at the local grocery shop for a candy bar, noticed you helping (who he assumed was) your dad fish, and seen you from time to time in the halls. The only person who was aware of his infatuation was John B, who tortured JJ relentlessly for it. Over the years, your hair has undergone many changes. At one point it was buzzed completely off. He didn’t see you much that year, come to think. Now it hangs just past your shoulders, a deep, enticing purple. It caught him off guard because only last week it was royal blue. Not that he was keeping track or anything…

“Here.”

JJ snaps out of his daydream to find you holding out something to him. A thin, white stick, rolled rather wonky. 

“You want some?”

“Won’t we get caught?”  JJ reflexively asks. 

“Boo. Pussy,” you teasingly return, retracting the offer. You briefly glance to the doorway before retrieving a lighter: bright, shiny silver and square. You light the end and take a drag. There’s a sweet, sickly smell that comes from it. 

“I ain’t a pussy,” JJ counters. There’s a smirk on your face as he takes the joint from you, guiding it to his lips to inhale. It catches uncomfortably in his throat and chest, making him cough. Laughing, you consolingly pat his back. He clenches his eyes shut: so embarrassing. 

“You good?” you giggle. 

“Never better,” JJ manages out through his chokes, giving you a shaky thumbs up. 

“First time?”

He shakes his head but you’re unconvinced. Smiling, you dig about in your pocket to retrieve a set of house keys. JJ watches as you scratch something into the metal of your lighter. He takes another hit of the joint as you do so, managing better this second time around. As he goes to hand it back, you trade him for your lighter. 

“Here,” you say, passing it to him. He takes it and looks at your inscription. JJ. His lips twitch in a smile. Glancing to you, you light-heartedly explain, “your first stoner lighter.”

As you finish taking another drag, the teacher’s footsteps sound from down the hall. Cool as a cat, you put the joint out on the underside of your chair and slip it back into a little metal box decorated with Powerpuff Girls stickers. It slips safely into your bag just as the teacher rounds into the room. At first, JJ worries you’re caught, as the teacher’s finger singles you out. But then he tosses his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Your dad’s here early to pick you up,” he tells you. 

If you’re happy to be leaving early, you don’t show it. If JJ didn’t know better, he’d even say you’re reluctant as you pack up your stuff. Shucking your backpack over your shoulder, you flash JJ a smile, rising to your feet. 

“Well, hopefully I’ll see you around, Maybank.”

“Yeah, same here,” JJ says, smiling. 

You walk past the desk and head out the door. JJ’s sure it’s the effect of you rather than the weed that leaves him feeling more dazed than ever before in his life. 

Two Years Later

What better way to lay-low than by throwing a kegger? JJ’s logic was undisputed. Not only had he encouraged the Pogues to hang onto the money and the gun that they'd found in the motel room, but he also got them to throw a last-minute gathering at the Boneyard. Honestly, his genius should be rewarded. 

As he mingles through the ever growing crowd, the sun growing darker by the minutes, JJ peruses the options. Some tourons had shown up: clueless but eager as they got roped into drinking games and conversations, and hit on constantly by locals. The kooks were mostly keeping to themselves, happy to drink the beers and cans brought by the people on the cut. Typical. Pearl catches JJ’s eye and she tips her cup at him in greeting from across the way, a seductive glint in her eyes and a telling message in her smile. JJ lazily tosses a hand up in return. They’d hooked up a few times now but he wasn’t feeling it tonight.

As if guided by fate, you come perfectly into JJ’s line of sight. You’re drinking from a red solo cup, chatting with some of your friends, pretty in an oversized tee and shorts. Again, just as you had in detention two years prior, your eyes catch onto his. This time, you smile. Saying something to your friend before heading over to JJ (who’s half certain he hit his head earlier and might be hallucinating). 

“Enjoying yourself?” JJ asks the minute you’re in front of him. He’s taller now. Ever growing in his confidence; sex does that to a guy. It makes them feel invincible. 

“I’m guessing your group is the one to thank for this kegger then?” 

JJ grins. “We know how to throw a good party.”

“I’ll say,” you smile. “I wish there was more music though.”

“You dance?”

“Sometimes. If I’m with the right person,” comes your sly response, smiling up at him. “You look different since detention.”

JJ would like to think so: that was two years ago. “Really? Different how?”

“Taller. Fitter.”

“Hotter?”

You laugh as you say, “you’re pretty sure of yourself, huh?”

“I was told confidence is sexy,” JJ returns. “What’d you think?”

You don’t say anything but JJ knows he isn’t crazy when you take a sip of your drink, your eyes scanning over his body leisurely as you do. You give a small hum. 

“So, got tired of the purple?” JJ asks, gesturing to your hair. It’s long now and seemingly your natural hue again, like it was that day at the pier all those years ago. There’s now little strands of tinsel in it that reflect different colours in a silverish shine depending on how the light hits it. Your nose ring is new too, though JJ noticed that the minute you had that done. He noticed you a lot, even if he never spoke to you. You never did to him so he just assumed to stay clear. Besides, there was a rumour that you went out with Tommy Peach a few months back and JJ didn’t feel like getting his ass handed to him. JJ was good at fighting now, as unfortunate as that was to admit, and he was aware he was in good shape, but Tommy was feral and tall. God knows why you wanted to go out with a scumbag like that, but JJ supposed he wasn’t much of a step up either. 

“My dad hated it,” you say. “And I wanted a change.”

“Shame. I liked the purple.”

“So you don’t like it like this?” you wonder. “Bummer. I was gonna try and shoot my shot with you but guess I’ve lost my chance…”

JJ’s eyes somehow don’t fall out of his head. He chuckles, almost nervously, and clears his throat. “Say what?”

You roll your eyes . “When a girl gives you her lighter and says she hopes she sees you around, JJ, it’s her way of saying ‘you’re cute, we should hang’.”

Oh. 

Laughing, as if hearing his inner monologue, you shrug. “Guess I got tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Lucky for you, I’m two beers in and that seems like enough confidence to come over”

“Two beers? I don’t wanna be taking advantage of you,” JJ teases, making you laugh. 

“Can’t believe you’re accusing me of being a lightweight when you nearly died after smoking your first joint.”

“Woah! Low blow!”

“I thought I’d murdered you! I was scared you were allergic or some shit,” you giggle. 

JJ grins down at you and tries to retrace his steps to how he got here, stood on the beach, talking to you and having you actively hit on him. It feels like a wet dream he’d concoct on lonely nights. He stays in that borderline stupor as the two of you talk and talk. You’re funny, but JJ already knew that, and you’re an adrenaline junky too, but JJ knew that as well. The two of you like the same kind of music so that leads to a huge discussion which almost becomes an argument of who was better: Kid Cudi or J. Cole? The more the drinks flow, the more your hand finds solace on his thigh, and the more his on yours. Soon enough JJ's foot’s rubbing leisurely at your ankle, personal space a long disputed myth, and he’s fighting the urge to kiss you. He’s not sure why he’s dragging it out when you’re obviously into him. Maybe he just wants to keep the anticipation alive for a little bit longer. After all, he’s wanted this since he was eight years old. 

The moment is interrupted by someone hollering your name. As you look up, JJ realises how dark it is. It’s officially night now with the moon high in the sky. A few people have pulled on sweaters as the evening has cooled, especially with the seafront breeze, but JJ feels burning hot. He spots someone waving at you and beside them is a girl crouched in the sand. You cuss and get up. 

“That’s my friend. I better go help,” you hurriedly explain. You pass JJ your empty cup and give an apologetic smile. Then, you press a brief kiss to his lips. It's so brief that it barely feels real, and JJ doesn’t register it until you’re already walking away. “I’ll be back soon! Sorry!”

JJ watches as you hurry over and help out your vomiting buddy. Sighing, bummed, he looks around and tries to track down his friends. The alcohol hits him when he stands, flooding from his brain, down to his body like ice cold water. He staggers for only a moment in the direction of John B, filling up the cups in his hands on the way as if willingly ignoring his body’s messages. He whistles out to catch his best friend’s attention, offering him one of the cup’s of beer. But Sarah Cameron and her douchebag boyfriend Topper make their way past, and something inside of JJ seeks mayhem. He offers it out to her instead but Topper tries to lay claim. 

“That’s nice of you man, but I didn’t ask you,” JJ returns. “If you said ‘pretty please’, maybe. But you didn’t.”

“Oh! Pretty please!” a squiffy Topper checks. 

“Yeah,” JJ replies. “So, Sarah, I promise–”

The beer hits JJ’s face in a non-refreshing wake-up. His anger tips quick like a nuclear bomb. His hands come up to Topper’s shirt, grabbing him before shoving him back. John B’s hand comes up to JJ’s chest, firmly trying to hold him back. 

“You’re so funny man!” JJ sarcastically urges. Before he can push it further, Topper says something that has John B lurching at him and soon enough, a full on fist fight begins. Pope is quick to intervene with JJ, holding him back, and no matter how much the latter struggles, he can’t seem to get to his best friend. Concerning seeps into the anger as he watches Topper lay into John B, kicking him into the water. And then pride when John B starts to fight back. “Give it to him, man!”

The night feels as though it’s split into two as JJ loses himself in watching the fight. His conversation with you might have happened years ago as his attention homes in on the flying fists and chants of the watchers. And then it all turns sour. Topper holds John B down into the water, face smushed into the sand, and all he can hear is Sarah begging for him to stop. JJ fidgets nervously, eager to do something, unsure of what. Then, another genius idea. 

It feels out of body as he retrieves the gun and checks the safety. As he makes his way over to the water and presses it against Topper’s head. It doesn’t feel like he’s in control of his body when JJ clicks the safety off. Topper stills beneath him.

“Yeah, you know what that is,” he warns through clenched teeth. “Your move, broski.”

Nothing but the waves. Nothing but his heartbeat. Nothing but John B’s choked breathes in the water. 

“Put the gun down!”

“Did you say something, princess?” JJ asks Sarah, focus on Topper’s hands. Eventually, they lift off John B’s weak body. The rich asshole repeats that they’re good and JJ shoves him down. But he’s still so angry. He’s always so angry. The mentality comes back from when he first started school. Never be the weak one. Never let them get the upper hand. Assert your dominance. He raises the gun into the air and turns to the dying crowd. “Okay, everyone, listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!”

The gun fires twice, the recoil minimal. It cracks in the silence of the night. A few people scream, alarmed, and then they start to run. 

JJ comes back to his body when Kiara shoves him. An argument breaks out between himself, Pope and Kie, and as the two others rush to help John B (who collapses back into the waves), JJ finally remembers the night. The whole night. He remembers you. As he looks out into the mass of bodies rushing away from the scene of the almost crime, he spots you. You look conflicted, for only a second, and then you leave too. 

Shit. 

The next day, JJ kills the time in the mid-morning with target practice in the back yard. The cops had swung by earlier and he thought it right to celebrate keeping the gun. Your whistle sounds like a birdcall. JJ’s head whips around at the sound, startled, and it seems to amuse you. He lowers his gun and frowns, confused at the sight of you. 

“How d’you know I live here?”

“I have my sources,” you smile, tapping the side of your nose. You wander leisurely into his back yard toward him as if you’ve been there thousands of times before. Nodding to the gun in his hand, you quirk a brow. “So, they didn’t take it off you?”

“Let me off with a warning,” JJ shrugs. “They couldn’t find the gun and have no proof that I kept it…”

“Ah. Loopholes,” you hum. 

When you come to a pause beside him, JJ awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. “Look, I’m real sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“Freak me out how?” you frown. 

“With the whole…gun…thing.”

Laughing, you shake your head. “That ain’t why I left JJ.”

“It ain’t?”

“No! I mean, Topper looked as though he wasn’t gonna let up, so,” you say, shrugging in agreement with JJ’s previous actions. “I just can’t go back to prison anytime soon. My dad’ll kill me.”

“Back to prison?” JJ says. He shouldn’t be as impressed (or turned on) by that as he is. 

“Ooo, the big scary place, I know,” you grin, teasing, before randomly making a grab for the gun. JJ barks out a laugh, holding it up and out of reach. “Come on! Lemme have a go!”

“You ever shoot before?” JJ asks, eyeing you up. 

Rolling your eyes, you nod. “We have a BB in our house that I fire around all the time. I wanna see how this one feels.”

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t give a weapon to a known criminal, right?” JJ says, tone almost flirtatious. 

“Come on. You can do the whole ‘let me show you’ thing.”

Lowering the gun, JJ chuckles, befuddled. “The what?”

“You know! When guys wanna feel a girl up they pretend to teach them how to do stuff. Like a tennis instructor or something. They’re all like ‘let me show you’.”

“You tellin’ me you got a tennis instructor?” 

“Yeah, and a mansion with three yachts - now come on!”

Shaking his head, laughing, JJ relents. He hands you the gun, safety on, and partly to follow along with your joke, but mostly to feel your body close to his, JJ stands almost fully behind you. He checks which is your dominant hand and guides your arms up into position. He shifts the position of your fingers. Your hair catches slightly in the wind and the smell of fruit and herbs dulls his senses. When he speaks again, you giggle. 

“Your breath tickles,” you mutter. 

“It does?” JJ checks, purposefully speaking even closer against the skin of your neck. You squirm and laugh and JJ has no idea how any of this happened, but he sure as hell isn’t complaining. “You gotta keep still.” 

As if to coax you to do so, JJ plants one of his hands on the side of your waist. Your breathing seems to catch with that, all giggles dead on your tongue, and JJ struggles to bite back his smirk. His chin rests comfortably on your shoulder as he follows your line of vision. You click the safety off under his instruction and then fire. He feels the power of the gun run down your arms, the recoil making your body jilt only slightly. Clicking the safety on again, you lower the gun and turn your head. Eyes half-hooded, you look up from his lips into his eyes. JJ notices a small, relatively fresh cut under your eye. Was that there last night? That train of thought derails when your tongue peaks out, dampening your lips. JJ loses all patience. His lips are on yours, kissing you, hand tightening just so on your side. You carelessly drop the gun to the floor and turn in his hold. Hands on his face, on his shoulders, around his neck, in his hair…JJ kisses you until he’s not sure what his name is anymore. Even then, he kisses you still. 

From there, the two of you were intertwined in one another’s lives. There was no other way to put it: JJ adored you. It was as if you constantly shared a common thought: JJ had never met someone so like himself. Two sides of the same stone. The Pogues noticed it easily. You didn’t exactly have to ask to join the gang. The fact that JJ trusted you enough to bring you around spoke volumes to his friends. They’d never met one of his previous situationships or flings before, and from that they could recognise this was something different. Seeing the two of you together just drove that point home faster. Birds of a feather. When the wild goose chase surrounding the Royal Merchant cropped up, you joined that too. Pope joked that there was something wrong with your amygdala, which upon explanation meant that you seemed to have a pretty low fear factor. It came after you literally wrestled Barry for the gun when they got held at gunpoint. All you’d done was shrug and said that you’d known “true fear” and that wasn’t it. Nobody knew what that meant, including JJ, but he had a feeling that he might after he dropped you home one time. 

The Chateau had become almost as familiar to you as it was to JJ. The pair of you had claimed the porch as your go-to smoking spot. One Tuesday afternoon, you sit sprawled in the armchair: head on one armrest and legs swung over the other. Your now lilac highlighted hair dangles in two braids. JJ is keeping himself entertained by tracing his eyes up and down your legs, over your stomach and chest, up to your dozed out face, and back again. The two of you were smoking hash, passing it back and forth leisurely, sharing mindless musings about life and the world and what things might be like if you actually found the gold. 

“I’d buy a house,” you say. 

“Lame.”

“A big house,” you continue, ignoring him and gesturing in front of you as if visualising it. “It’d be pastel blue with big white shutter-style windows and a wrap-around porch. There’d be one of those porch swings sat out front. Oh! And flowers. A shit ton of flowers.”

“You can’t even keep a cactus alive,” JJ snorts. 

“I’d hire a gardener. Duh,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

“Anything else?” JJ wonders. He keeps a mental checklist: blue house; white shutters…

“A dog,” you smile. “And a cat.”

“Alright then.” Maybe it’s the manner that he says it that has you looking at him, amused. “I’ll do it.”

“You’ll ‘do it’?” you chuckle, raising your brows. 

“Yeah. When we find the gold–”

“If we find the gold–”

“When,” JJ insists, making you laugh, “I’ll get you your house and your dog.”

“Don’t forget the cat,” you warn, pointing at him. 

“Christ, lady! And your cat.”

“Good,” you smile.

You look back to the ceiling and slip your eyes shut, sighing contentedly. JJ chuckles, shaking his head, gazing at you as if you sculpted the planets and personally hung them in the solar system. It’s short lived bliss, however, because your phone pings. Then again, and again, until it’s nothing but an ongoing buzz of noise. JJ frowns at it and you quickly reach over to the window ledge where it’s precariously sat. The moment your eyes scan the screen, you sit up. Everything about your demeanour shifts. JJ sees the second you switch to panic. 

“I gotta go,” you mumble. You swing your legs off the sofa and stand. JJ’s quick to follow. 

“Everything okay?”

“I just gotta go home right now,” you reply, already making your way down the porch steps. JJ ditches the spoon pipe on the coffee table and catches up. 

“I’ll take you on my bike,” he says, grabbing your hand and guiding you to it. You don’t argue and he doesn’t ask for an explanation for the urgency. Wordlessly, the two of you climb on - your arms tethering around his middle - and JJ starts the engine. Speed limits become a pleasantry rather than a courtesy as JJ speeds to your house. Your phone doesn’t let up the whole journey and with every ping, JJ bumps it up by another mile per hour. It’s a skidding halt when he stops outside your house. He’d only been there a handful of times before, usually to pick you up. Similarly to JJ, you didn’t like going home all that much. You’re climbing off the bike before JJ shuts the engine off. Seemingly at the sound of the engine, your dad emerges in the front door. You turn to JJ. He doesn’t recognise the look on your face. 

It terrifies him. 

“JJ, you have to leave - now,” you tell him. 

He frowns, brows tugging together. “What’re you–”

“Just leave. Go. Please, JJ,” you push, glancing between him and your approaching father. Something softens in your tone, akin to desperation. “Please.”

JJ looks to your dad just as he passes the threshold of the porch, then looks to you once more as if needing approval. You nod as if understanding. The same thought, always shared. Then JJ’s turning tightly in the makeshift drive of your house and starting off down the road before your dad reaches you. He acutely registers the funny feeling, tight in his chest as if something was squeezing his heart and lungs in a vice. It was the same feeling JJ got whenever he went home. 

The same feeling JJ got whenever he saw his own father. 

As the months went on, the relationship you and JJ shared was soaked in marjuana and sweat. Smoking in the morning and fucking through the night. Not only did you encourage JJ’s idiocy, but you joined it. It was as if you were there to enable the other. Shoplifting beers, pier jumping in the thick of night, skinny dipping before dusk, pulling crazy stunts with the others that nearly wound up getting you killed more times to count. But just like JJ, you were loyal. It was as if the minute you became a Pogue, you wore it like a military title, nothing short of honoured. You’d lay your life down for the group and for the hunt for gold.

JJ wasn’t sure who said I love you first. He’s not even sure if either of you ever said it. You don’t have to say I love you to say I love you. Besides, two avoidant, daddy issue riddled teenagers didn’t make for the most textbook healthy relationship. The two of you would fight and it was bad when you did. But it was a rarity. There was little time for blow-out arguments when you were running from one place to another, chasing lead after lead. Hell, even when you seemed to have time to breathe, something else always came up. 

“I never make good grades in school. When I get out, I act like a fool. I come in the party and cause a commotion. Yeah, I’m smooth they call me lotion.”

JJ cracks up with the others, breaking his beatboxing rhythm, as Pope loses his verse. He has a more than comfortable buzz going: energised by the beer and mellowed out by the weed. JJ thought he could handle his stuff well until he met you. This was the first time in a long time the two of you had properly partied together, outside of sharing a joint or doing edibles on an evening. You were about seven cans deep, one joint smoked and two lines of coke snorted. Your hair, now red, was damp from the hot tub; your nose ring sparkling in the disco ball’s reflecting light. JJ tried to keep his attention on the gang but no matter what, his eyes kept running back to you. The bikini top you’re wearing is truly a cruel design. Whoever invented it hated anybody who admired the female figure: they designed it to torture them. The liquor certainly didn’t help the situation, nor did your knowing glances and sly smiles. 

"Think Kanye might have some serious competition there," you sardonically quip.

“Alright, alright, let’s hear it then,” Pope challenges, turning the focus to you. Everyone ooo’s dramatically as you laugh. You take a hit of your freshly rolled joint and shrug. As you rise out of the water, moving to sit on the outer edge of the hot tub, the gang erupts into cheers. JJ's mesmerised by the way the droplets of water race down over your tits, trickling down your chest.

“Okay, alright, well someone gimme a beat, at least,” you say. 

JJ’s happy to indulge. Laughing, you bop your head along and try to follow. 

“I failed the first grade in school, but my teacher told me I’m a cool dude. The kids in the playground scattered, cause my bars would leave them battered–”

The gang whoops and you crack up, trying desperately to stay on track. JJ’s trying desperately not to stare at your chest and lose track of his makeshift beat. 

“When I fuck they call me lewd, cause I get freaky when I’m in the wrong mood. My boy never seems to complain, but his dick might be in some pain.”

JJ practically chokes on his laughter. There’s a symphony of cheers and jests and (in Pope’s case) groans from the others, and you throw your hands up in surrender. 

“Y’all asked for it! I’m jus’ saying!” you giggle, sinking back into the water. You take another hit of your joint and wink across to JJ. His dick twitches uselessly in his swim shorts as you do so. Such a fucking tease.   

“You two were made for each other, Goddamn,” Kiara chuckles.

The pair of you laugh it off but JJ feels his heart stir at the notion. Maybe it’s the weed talking or the alcohol intoxicating his thoughts, but the more time JJ spends with you, the more he’s certain that you two were meant to find each other. There’s no other explanation for it. You were an entire world in one small human being, filled with stories and secrets, some of which he might never know, but most he’d spend his life wanting to. 

As the night stretches on and the drinks continue to flow, the mood simmers down from a bubbly celebration to an almost sentimental reunion. The hot tub has been abandoned as the mosquitos began to gather and the air began to cool, and JJ was sick of hearing you and Sarah drop hints about how you were “turning pruney.” So now you sit in the deck chairs with Kiara and Sarah and John B, watching JJ and Pope wrestle. Grappling on Pope’s upper arms, JJ tries to get the upper leg. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, go for the leg,” he lightly encourages his lesser violent friend. With that, Pope tackles JJ onto the floor. He hits the ground with a gentle smack. “You got a new technique now, huh?”

Pope rises in victory, pretty drunk, arms in the air. JJ laughs, sitting up to notice a beer extended out to him in offer from you. He takes it with a grin, having two large swigs. 

“I’m done. I’m out of here,” Pope announces to nobody in particular, walking away from the campfire. 

“You want a round two?” 

“Yeah, I think I’ll take my losses,” Pope replies. JJ begins wandering back over to you with a shrug just as Kiara suddenly gets up from her seat. She flashes Sarah some kind of look that girls must track better than boys, as Sarah and yourself gape at her. 

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Way to be discreet!” JJ hollers after them. When he steals Kiara’s chair, sitting beside you, you’re still giggling. 

“Okay, am I just oblivious or did nobody else notice them vibing on each other?” you wonder, looking to the others. 

“Dude. Seriously?” JJ sniggers. 

“I didn’t notice!”

“How could you not– You know what? It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Only one of us needs to be the love expert here,” JJ reassures, stretching his arm out over the back of your chair in what he thinks is a rather suave manner. You snort, gently brushing it off. 

“Love expert? Uh-huh. Sure, kiddo.”

“Kiddo,” John B mutters, amused. 

JJ scoffs, grinning at you. “Oh really?”

“Yep,” you return, not quite sure what you’re arguing over now. JJ decides to put an end to it by squeezing the sides of your exposed stomach, tickling your skin and causing you to squirm. As he does so, John B mumbles something about being out of beer. Sarah follows him and leaves you and JJ in the company of the music, the cicadas and chickens. 

“Thought you danced,” JJ says, referring to the music, thinking back to the night at the kegger. 

“I might do later.”

JJ just nods and the two of you smile at one another, the playfulness of the moment easing away the same way the arousal had earlier in the hottub. 

“You’re so handsome,” you quietly tell him. "My good looking boy, huh?"

JJ chuckles, looking down, bashful whenever you threw compliments like that at him. He could handle ‘sexy’ or ‘hot’ rather well, took them in stride, but words like handsome were like flakes of gold being sprinkled in his hair. They felt valuable, especially when they came from your mouth. Not always the best with words, JJ thanks the self-medication for what falls out of his mouth next. 

“You’re the prettiest Goddamn thing on this planet.”

You’re visibly stunned and JJ wants to high-five himself. Giving him a coy smile, you lean your head back against your seat, staring into the star scattered sky. 

“God, I could just stay here forever,” you sigh. 

JJ mimics your actions. He traces the stars and tries to see if he can make constellations of your face. He glances at you and notices how they reflect on your eyes, as if scattering diamonds into your irises to make them shimmer. Your skin is kissed amber by the fairy lights strung in the branches above. Everything just makes you glow: ethereal. A foot kicking his own snaps JJ out of his lovesick stupor. A rather amused John B smirks knowingly down at him. 

“It’s creepy to stare, man,” John B joshingly berates. 

“He does it all the time,” you mumble. “That’s why I asked him out.”

Sarah laughs at that and you crack up too, but before another conversation can begin, your laughter dies down and your brows furrow. 

“What was that?” John B asks, as if reading your mind. 

“Your chickens?” JJ wonders, having heard nothing but the incessant clucking of the birds. 

“It sounded like a car door,” you mumble. JJ, distracted, begins to cluck like a chicken, hoping to lighten the mood, more drunk than he thought he was, but your hand presses over his mouth to silence him. You rise to your feet slowly and JJ decides to follow. He squints into the distance. 

“I think someone’s here,” John B mutters. 

“Up the trees. Quickly” you instruct, fast to take action. 

You shut off the music as Sarah hurries to put out the fire. JJ decides to help her, tossing handfuls of sand atop of the flames. He looks to the tree to find you already a decent way up. He stands by the bottom of the other tree with John B to help give Sarah a boost, aware of the fragility of her stitches, and then lets John B go up before himself. He settles on the same branch as you, a hand protectively settling on your waist. You’d already taken a rather reckless course of action in Charleston with Renfield, trying to tackle the taser from his hands to buy all of you more time to run. In case you felt the urge to drop from the trees in some surprise attack, JJ could now hold you back. 

Sure enough, only a couple of minutes later, Rafe and Barry creep into the backyard. JJ feels you stiffen and he tightens his grip just slightly in reassurance. They didn’t know you were in the trees. God bless your quick thinking. Barry makes his way into the house, gun raised and ready, whilst Rafe studies the spots you’d all been relaxing in only moments prior. 

“Where the hell are you?” he mumbles to himself. 

None of you speak. None of you dare breathe let alone move. JJ looks to John B and Sarah, who look just as troubled as he feels. Rafe was unpredictable. Unstrung. And it was easy to assume that JJ was not on Barry’s nice list, that was for sure. As they sit and lie in wait, praying not to be spotted, Barry and Rafe seem to decide that nobody’s home. As he’s about to take a sigh of relief, Rafe fires the gun up into the trees. His heart jumps and his chest heaves. The bullet ricochets off the trunk of the tree near his back. You flinch in JJ’s hold at the gunshots and the shock nearly has you losing your balance. JJ quickly shifts his hand higher up your side, leaning as close to you as physically possible to whisper in your ear. 

“I got you,” he reassures. 

Barry thankfully ushers Rafe away at that point but none of you dare move until you the car is long out of sight. Sighing, you relax against JJ and him against you. It was ironic how the two of you were no strangers to violence and yet, the same spark of fear was alight anytime either of you were faced with it.  

You see, the same way ‘I love you’ didn’t need an explanation, neither did yours and JJ’s homelives. JJ never intended to introduce you to his father and he never met yours. More times than not, you’d meet and hang and sleep at the Chateau. If you spent time at one of your two house’s, it was when it was empty. The cuts and bruises that would appear on either of your bodies never came with questioning. Somehow, someway, the two of you knew how and where. You’d soundlessly clean them and console the other and the whole thing would be as forgotten as a terrorist attack: over, in the back of the mind, but never fully erased. The anger JJ felt whenever he saw you after you’d had a run-in with your father was different to that which he felt when he had a run-in with his own. Deeper, darker, more vengeful. One night, it reached its crux. 

JJ wakes up with a start. At first he isn’t sure what snapped him out of sleep. Then, he hears it again. A faint creaking in the floorboards from the main body of his house. His house that he now lives in alone. What if his dad came back? JJ gets out of bed dressed in nothing but a pair of sweatpant shorts. He slowly picks up a spanner that’s laying on his bedroom floor, ditched after a day trying to switch out the deck of his skateboard, and pushes his door open carefully. He slowly inches down the almost pitch-black hallway. The only light is that from the window: moonbeams that shine through the glass. 

At the sight of your silhouette, JJ lets out a heavy sigh. The spanner falls to the ground with an echoing thud. 

“Jesus Christ, you scared the crap outta me,” JJ says with a relieved laugh. He makes his way across the room to you but his smile fades when he notices how stiff you are. “You a’right?”

This close, he can begin to make out your face through the dark. It’s haunting.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” JJ breathes, horrified.

Dark bags sit under your eyes which are hollowed out as if you’d been lost at sea, a vacant stare that almost looks past him. Your lip is quivering. Small, shaky, shallow breaths come in and out of your mouth. The worst part? The blood. 

His hands fly up toward your face and your eyes clamp shut quickly as preparing for a hit. JJ freezes before he touches your skin, slowing his movements, trying to ease his own panic. His eyes scan your features, counting the injuries, trying to see the damage beneath the gore.

“What the fuck happened?”

You don’t talk. Nothing but that same ominous silence. You’re in shock. JJ’s seen it before from when he pulled over at a motorcycle crash. It’s as if the mind retreats in on itself and guards from the unpredictable. JJ swallows and clenches his jaw, trying to steal himself. 

“A’right, we, uh, we gotta clean you up,” he manages. He carefully links his fingers through yours and feels your barely tangible grip. Then he guides you into the bathroom. Lowers you gently onto the toilet seat. In his peripheral vision, he sees no sign of movement or acknowledgement as he retrieves the beloved first aid kit from the bathroom cupboard. It balances precariously on the edge of the sink as he digs about for cleaning supplies. 

JJ starts with your face. Your upper lip is busted at the edge, coated in dry blood but already beginning to scab. When you get in as many bruise ups as JJ, you learn to have a strange appreciation and fascination with the human body in how it heals. The antiseptic must sting but you don’t even blink. You just stare past him. Even before, you’d never been this detached. You might be angry or frustrated or even upset, but never absent. Never this. The blood around your eye comes from a gash just across your right brow. There’s an impressive bruise on the apple of your left cheek and a telling pink handprint that refuses to fade on your right. The fury begins to chip at JJ’s resolve.

Following your bizarre routine, JJ moves to unbutton your shirt, to check for any signs of internal bleeding, broken ribs, open cuts or ugly bruises across your upper body. The minute his fingers brush your sternum, your hands fly up. He’s not even sure how he winds up on the floor and it takes a moment to piece together the seconds and register that it was you. Frowning, thoroughly alarmed, JJ’s head shoots up to find your chest heaving. You make a noise as if you’re crying but no tears fall. His lips part in horror and his mind scrambles for any explanation other than the obvious. 

“Woah, woah, woah, hey,” JJ hurries, rocking onto his knees and planting his hands reassuringly on yours. Your whole body is shaking. “It’s a’right, yeah? Jus’ me. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Your eyes clamp shut and the tears begin to fall.

"You're safe now."

After a trembling inhale, you begin to sob. Heartbroken, hideous, harrowing sobs. JJ feels tears swirl in his waterline at the sight and sound. He knew you better than anyone - better than the Lord himself - and to see you so far from who you are was like seeing someone’s body turn inside out. Unsure of what to do, he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace and lets you fall into him.

You just cry. 

Later, JJ sits outside the bathroom. His back is pressed against the door. Inside, he can hear the slosh of the bath water from time to time when you shift. He meddles with the rings on his fingers. His teeth gnaw on his lower lip. JJ assesses his options. He knows the “right” thing to do and he knows the “wrong” thing to do, and he knows the one he prefers out of the two, even if he shouldn't. His eyes flit over to the pile of your clothes that he’d taken out the room with him, back turned to give you privacy when you changed (as if you hadn’t given your body to him countless times before). The blood stained shirt. The shorts that had a telling rip at the crotch, the zip practically shattered. The missing panties. His throat turns thick and his eyes clench shut, forehead falling down against his clenched fists. He tries desperately to breathe through the anger. Before he can reach any sort of conclusion, he hears you get out of the bathtub. A few minutes later, the twisting doorknob prompts him to stand. You stand dressed in his clothes and offer him a small smile, and JJ feels his whole body sigh with relief. 

“How you feelin’?” JJ asks. 

You shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Exhausted.”

“Anything hurting still?”

“No,” you say. You walk past him and into his bedroom and he follows. Climbing onto his bed, you wrap yourself up on his side in the blankets. JJ heads to the kitchen to grab some water and pain meds before coming back and joining you, sitting against the headrest, unsure whether to touch you or not. You seem to answer the question for him. You cuddle into his side and nestle your head against his upper chest. His hands coil safely around your body, holding you close, and he plants a kiss on top of your head. Then he finally speaks. 

“We need to go to the cops.”

You sigh and close your eyes. “JJ, no–”

“You don’t even gotta press charges but they have to know.”

“I don’t want to do that.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you know how it is, JJ,” you argue, sitting up to face him. “It’s my word against his and he never technically did anything. They’ll take one look at him and listen to my story, and then probably get me to recount it a million times over to a million other strangers. To a million other men. It’s humiliating and it’s pointless and I don’t want to do it.”

“It ain’t pointless and there’s nothing humiliating about it,” JJ insists. “You’re the victim here–”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, glaring at him. 

Sighing, JJ closes his eyes and clenches the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his cool. The last thing you need tonight is another fight. Besides, it’s not as if you’re wrong. JJ trusted the police as far as he could throw them; he didn’t doubt that they’d be useless. But the thought of you going back to your dad and for him to get away with what he did…JJ didn’t know what other option you really had. Your fingers gently wrap around JJ’s hand, easing it away from his face, coaxing his eyes to meet yours. 

“Two more months, JJ.”

He sighs again but you’re quick to continue. 

“Two more months and I’m eighteen and he isn’t my legal guardian anymore! I don’t have to deal with the whole rigged court system or with a foster home - I can just be rid of him for good.”

“Two more months? You think I’m gonna let you go back there for two more months after this?” JJ scoffs, eyeing up your injuries. His stomach churns and jaw ticks at the thought of what could’ve happened if you hadn’t managed to get the upper hand. You sigh and look away. 

“I don’t know…Maybe he won’t do it again.”

“If he does it once, he’ll do it again,” JJ mutters. He remembers having the same thought the first time his dad hit him. It was an accident. He apologised. He didn’t mean it. By the end, JJ was on cloud nine if he went a week without a smack. But your situation was somehow even heavier than that. His stomach churns again. 

“I don’t know,” you repeat, sounding nothing short of defeated. 

JJ just tugs you back against his chest. You trace a finger over his chest in swirling patterns as if personifying the state of his mind. Maybe you could live with JJ. I mean, you practically already did. The two of you were rarely away from the Chateau these days, and once you were eighteen - just as you said - your dad had no hold on you. Maybe if the Pogues could get the cross then JJ could finally afford that big pastel blue house for you, with the wrap around porch, and guard dogs to sick ‘em anytime your dad came within a fifty mile radius of you. Maybe–

JJ’s eyes widen. It hits him. His best idea to date. 

“Marry me.”

JJ isn’t sure he actually said it for a while because you don’t speak. You don’t even move. 

“What did you just say?” 

“Marry me.”

You immediately start to laugh. You shake your head against his chest. “Jesus Christ. Did you slip and hit your bed whilst I was in the bathtub?”

“I’m serious. Marry me,” JJ says. Maybe it’s his tone that cuts off your hysterics. You quickly break out of his hold again and look at him, studying his expression. Your eyes widen. 

“Holy shit, you really are serious,” you mumble. 

“Marry me,” JJ repeats as if those are the only words he knows how to say. 

You laugh, bewildered, “JJ, we’re seventeen.”

“So.”

“So? So…We’re seventeen!” you cackle. “We can’t get married JJ.”

“Who says?” JJ shrugs, beginning to smile. You haven’t said no. 

“Um let’s see,” you mumble, lifting your fingers to count. “The court…The law…Our parents.”

“We don’t have parents.”

“Maybe not good or present ones, but we still have legal guardians, JJ.”

“Those are all technicals–”

“-Technicalities-”

“-Whatever. Point is, those are irrelevant,” JJ says, wafting it away. His hands grab yourself in a tight clutch. Your mouth remains perfectly parted, slightly upturned at the corners. It only pushes his smile. “I know you’re it for me. I ain’t good at all the sappy-dappy-love-crap, but I’ve been in love with you since I was a kid–”

“--JJ–”

“--And I don’t want anybody else! Ever. We’re a team, ain’t we? Hunt for gold together, spend our life together.” When you study him in silence for a while, JJ tags on, “I mean, I’m gonna do it eventually so I might as well do it now.”

“That is insane reasoning to propose, JJ,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. Even if your face is half beaten beyond recognition, JJ knows you’re the most beautiful girl on the planet. The moment he knew he shared the same earth as you, JJ wanted you to be in his life. And you still haven’t said no. 

“I love you,” JJ says, plain and simple. Shaking his head slightly, he grins. “P4L, right? I mean, we really got nothing to lose here.”

You stare at him and scoff, quiet and underbreath, almost fascinated. Your eyes slip shut and JJ begins to grin because he knows. A deep, heavy sigh, and you laugh again. 

“God help me, I must have gone crazy,” you mutter. Your eyes open into his. Then you smile the prettiest smile the world has ever seen. “Yes. I’ll marry you, JJ Maybank.”

JJ wastes no time in connecting his lips with yours. You giggle against them, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding him closer and closer. When you break apart, barely a hair’s width between your damp lips, you smile as you speak. 

“My good looking boy.” 

Five Years Later

Whiskey isn’t quite caramel. No, it’s more tawny. More gingerbread coloured, especially in this hue, illuminated by the crappy bar lighting hanging above JJ’s head. His knuckles knock against the side of the cool glass, mesmerised by the sound of his metal rings clinking, distracted in his drunken haze by the bobbing of the three ice cubes in the liquor. 

“JJ.”

His head sluggishly lifts at the sound of his name. He comes face to face with the long-time bartender, Corbin. 

“It’s last orders, man. You wanting a refill?” Corbin asks. 

JJ sighs and shakes his head. “Nah, I better not. What time is it?”

“It’s nearly one,” Corbin replies. 

JJ nods then repeats, “nah, I better not.”

“You wanting to settle up for that now?” he wonders, glancing down at JJ’s half full drink. 

JJ swallows and rubs tiredly at his eyes. “I, uh…Just put it on my tab for now, a’right?”

Corbin sighs. “Look, JJ. I’ve known you a long time so I’ve been letting it slide but this tab’s starting to stack up. You gotta pay it sometime.”

JJ shoots him a glare; his emotions twisted by the alcohol. “And I’m gonna. I just…Things are a lil’ tight right now so I can’t settle it just yet.”

Corbin decides not to push the topic. He does as he’s asked and adds JJ’s three whiskey on ice beverages to his resume-like tab. When he leaves to square things away at some other end of the bar, JJ glances around the room. 

Corbin’s bar, Grub Bucket, hadn’t changed in anybody’s lifetime. JJ could recall coming out here as a kid on the hunt for his dad and sneaking past the intimidating bikers out front, weaving through the drunken fools of Kildare to find his dad almost paralytic near the pool tables. The smell was the same too: musty and beer drenched and tired. JJ wonders if he finds the smell comforting - nostalgic maybe. At the sight of several patrons leaving through the door into the pitch-black night, JJ remembers himself and the time, and he downs the last of his drink. The bitter sting is soothing on his tongue and eases the ache, and it goes down easy like a crisp, cool apple juice back in grade school. 

He staggers out the bar and stumbles the familiar route home. It’s as engraved in his mind as the journey to the shops or the docks. Home appears through thick overgrowth. It’s a piece of shit trailer, obvious even in this lighting, that’s discoloured and dirty on the exterior. There are weeds that protrude from below the body of the home and gas canisters lined beside overflowing trash cans and countless fishing, surf and mechanic crap. The recycling bin is always full of empty wine bottles and cans of beer. 

The stairs creak in concern as he makes his way up them. The third is broken in the middle and even intoxicated, he has the sense to avoid it. A squeaky door that needs the entirety of his body weight to open, his shoulder slamming into the upper left, and the instant smell of damp desperately trying to be combated with some cheap candle from Goodwill. 

There’s few rooms in the trailer. A kitchen with about one empty counter to cook, that shares the same area as a living space. A couch that JJ found abandoned on a roadside sits before a crackly television, divided by a thrifted coffee table. The World Atlas was proving useful keeping the latter piece of furniture upheld on the far right leg. The area is littered with belongings, tight on space and storage. Trash takes up a lot of space too, as much as he hates to admit it. A strategically placed poster-print conceals a concerning dent in the wall that may signify rats at one time had made this trailer their home. That could explain the steal that JJ got it for. 

The bathroom is where JJ’s legs take him next. Here, with the door closed, he can turn on the light. It takes three flicks of the switch and the buzz that it generates might remind a war veteran of a looming grenade. The shower is permanently discoloured and runs warm perhaps once a year, so JJ skips that stage. Instead he looks into the dirty mirror. His exhausted face greets him through blurry vision and speckles of toothpaste. A well-used toothbrush is rushed around his mouth and he spits into a dusty sink that drains frustratingly slowly. A quick piss and JJ is all washed up. 

He’s careful not to turn on the light when he makes his way into the bedroom. By now, it must nearly be two in the morning. The boots come off first, followed by his shorts, socks and shirt. Clad in only boxers, JJ can make out the bed through the dark and slides under the covers. His eyes slip shut and his body tries to relax.

“It’s late.”

His eyes clench shut. Shit.

“I, uh, didn’t know you’d still be awake.”

“I was waiting up for you to come home,” comes your mumbled response. JJ looks over to you: your back facing him as he lies on his. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Hard not to when your husband’s out until two in the morning without texting or calling.”

 JJ’s brows knit together. “My phone died,” he mutters. 

“Convenient.”

Sighing, JJ runs a hand along his forehead and rubs tiredly at his eyes. “Look, I’m really fuckin’ tired, a’right? It’s been a long day and I just wanna–”

“You’re tired?” you hiss, turning over and sitting up. Fuck. “You’re fucking tired, JJ? Where the hell where you!?”

“Out!”

"Oh! Out! God, I don't know why I didn't think to check there!" you tunefully say.

JJ grits his teeth. The exhaustion and booze make a sticky concoction, flammable to the smallest fuse. “I don’t have to fucking give you a play by play of what I’m doing. I’m my own fucking person.”

“Okay, sure, JJ. You can finish work at five in the Goddamn afternoon and not reappear until two in the Goddamn morning without a text or call. I mean, what a fucking evil wife I am for worrying about you being - oh, I don’t know - dead in a ditch somewhere or sat in a fucking cell. I mean, I’m just bitter to the bone.”

At your spiel, JJ sits up in bed, propping himself up with his elbows. “Yeah, it’s such a fucking Goddamn surprise that I’m in no rush to come home when this is the fucking greeting I get!”

“Don’t come home at two in the morning and you won’t get this type of greeting!” you screech back. 

The two of you meet eyes through the dark. Your faces are contorted in anger: brows tugged close together, lips downturned in ugly frowns, tired eyes narrowed at one another. 

“Jesus Christ - what? You need me to give you a text every two minutes or some shit? Tell you where I am every two seconds?” 

“Right, yeah, that’s what I said, JJ,” you argue, gesturing violently with your words. “I said, ‘send me a text every time you take a breath of air’. No, no, you’re right: I said, ‘put a tracker in your fucking penis and then maybe I know where it’s going’.”

He studies your face a moment and scoffs, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you’re try’na incinerate there but–”

“It’s insinuate - you fucking idiot - and I think you know damn well what I’m referring to,” you spit. Your voice sounds almost as bitter as the liquor JJ was drinking peacefully only an hour ago. Maybe he should have just stayed at the bar. 

“Go on, then. Say it with your fucking chest, then,” JJ urges, sitting up in bed too. 

You glower at him. “Pearl.”

“Oh my fuckin’...” JJ can’t help but laugh right in your face. It’s ludicrous! It only seems to worsen your rage, not that JJ could care at this moment. “You really think I’m out hooking up with someone? Is that seriously what you’re accusing me of?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” is your all-to-quick reply. “You spend all night in a bar and come home smelling like booze. Wouldn’t be surprised if you were hooking up with her, or some other whore. I mean, who else would want you?” 

JJ can’t think clearly through the blinding rage. His vision goes blurry and this time, it isn’t from the alcohol. There’s the distant fear that he might crack a tooth from how tightly he’s clenching his jaw. He feels his fist close up around the sheets. 

“You better think really fucking hard about what you just said to me,” he lowly says. 

Your brows raise. “Is that a threat?”

JJ doesn’t reply. Decides it might be best not to. It’s hard to side with that thought process though because a smirk slowly but surely begins to sneak onto your face. There’s this viciousness in your eyes that JJ used to be unable to recognise, before El Dorado. Before life got somehow all the more real. 

“Starting to sound like your dad now, huh, Maybank?”

Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. Don’t say–

JJ leans in close to your face. Can feel your heavy breath on his cheeks. See the emotions swirling like a thunderstorm in your eyes. The thin veil of tears in your waterline. He hardly recognises his own voice. 

“I wish I was fucking some whore. Anything’s better than being in this bed with you.”

Your whole demeanour shifts. It’s palpable. The room is hot and suffocating. The words hang in the air and JJ hates himself for not being sure if he even wants to take them back, even if he doesn’t mean it. He just wanted you to hurt. And what an awful thing to want. 

JJ hates this. He hates how the two of you know just the right buttons to press and just the right things to say to make the other furious. To break one another down. When two people fall in love, you learn everything about the other. It’s not just the intimate details - how somebody looks naked, the way they react to every touch, every kiss, their favourite song, the way they talk when they’re drunk - but also the sensitive stuff. The traumas and the skeletons and the insecurities. 

“Get out,” you spit. 

“Get out?” JJ laughs incredulously. 

“Get out! Get the fuck out of this bed now,” you seeth. JJ doesn’t move. As if possessed, you grab at your pillow and toss it at him. “Get out!” Toss your book too. 

JJ dodges them, bats them away. “You’re fucking psycho! Do you fucking see yourself!” he shouts. 

“Get out! Get out, get out, get out!” you scream. 

But JJ doesn’t. He should. In fact, he should go for a walk and let the two of you calm down, and then discuss it in the morning with a civilised conversation, just as you would do when you were both younger. But JJ was never the one to make the right decision. Instead, he feels himself smile. Then, he settles leisurely on his back, snuggling into the sheets like a child returning home after a long day out. His body aches from a hard day’s labour at the docks, stomach empty save for the booze. Even with his eyes closed, JJ can see your glare. It’s ice cold and sends shivers along his spine. 

“Fuck you, JJ,” you mutter. 

Another rustle of the sheets, the mattress dips, heavy footsteps, a slamming door, and you’re out of the room. The door shivers in the rickety frame and the noise seems to echo around the room. JJ slowly opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. He runs a hand along his jawline as he sighs, feeling the ever growing stubble that he can’t find the motivation to shave. He used to, wanting to keep up appearances for the job market, but it seemed futile now. Pointless. The feeling of satisfaction that came from winning the fight was fleeting, passing as quick as a poppers-buzz. Now, the ugly emotions seep in as JJ wallows in the lonely silence. The emotions JJ usually wards off with whiskey and beer and weed and cocaine. The guilt and the shame and the self-loathing. The sympathy and the heartache. The awful things he said to you bounce around in his head like a ping pong ball. The awful things you said to him bury deep in his heart.  When he closes his eyes again, trying to mellow out his breathing and drift off, he can hear your sniffles through the door.

You never used to hide your tears from him. 

Sighing, JJ clamps his hands over his face and fights the urge to scream. Why does he do this? Why does it keep happening? Why can’t you both just stop? 

After thirty minutes, sleep is nowhere to be seen. The sniffling has stopped in the other room but JJ doubts you’re asleep either. Soon enough, he can’t stand the internal struggle anymore. He gets to his feet and makes his way into the living room before he can lose his nerve. 

You’re lying on your side on the sofa, bundled up with a moth-nibbled blanket. JJ can’t see your face from here but he knows you’re awake. Dating you for five years meant he learnt to pick up on things like that. Walking over, he comes to the back of the sofa and reaches over to gently place his hand on your shoulder. 

“You awake?” he rasps. 

A pause, and then, “yes.”

“Come to bed.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve got that stupid interview tomorrow and you’re going to hate yourself for sleeping on this fucking thing in the morning.”

And I can’t fall asleep unless you’re next to me. 

“You remembered I have an interview?” you mumble. 

“Course,” JJ mumbles back, as if embarrassed that he remembers something his wife told him. “So come to bed.”

You don’t say anything else. JJ has a million things he could say. They’re things that he should say and that he wants to but it’s like his mouth is soldered shut. He can’t let them pass as if they might incriminate him. Oh no! She’ll know I care about her! Instead, he swallows and removes his hand, sighing as he turns to return to the bedroom. 

“Well, I’m going to bed,” he says. Again, there’s no response. 

Only after JJ has closed the bedroom door does he hear movement from the sofa. By the time you reappear, he’s already in bed, curled up on his side, facing the wall. You make your way to the right of the bed. There’s the thud of the blanket joining the floor before you sneak under the sheets and shuffle about until you’re settled. 

The two of you don’t cuddle that night just like you don’t most nights. Neither of you apologise. Neither of you say a word. But just as JJ’s about to drift off, he feels the faintest press of your lips to the back of his bare shoulder. 

When JJ wakes up in the morning, you’ve already left. His head hurts the moment he opens his eyes. Groaning, he tosses the sheets off and sits up on the edge of his bed. JJ’s aching back was a common companion to his life since El Dorado. He’d fallen funny on the adventure and seemingly fucked it up for life. Lifting heavy cargo at the docks probably didn’t help much but what choice did he have? You both needed the money desperately. 

The hunt for the gold went sour. Not only did Ward Cameron steal it and use it, but Rafe stole the cross and melted the timeless relic down into chunks. At first they thought El Dorado - the timeless mystery - was a possibility. JJ believed it too. In trying to get himself and John B there, he’d got himself in pretty hot water back in Kildare. That and the eviction notice plastered to his dad’s house meant that coming back home, empty handed, meant tough living. At first, the two of you persevered. You took the loss as best you could and started out on your life together. A courthouse wedding marked the beginning of your new life, gold-less but not loveless. The Pogues threw a party at the Chateau afterwards. JJ sent out an invitation to his dad at his last known address but he never showed. You never invited yours and thankfully he stayed away. Not long after was he arrested. That was a good day. You’d sold your father’s house and used that money to buy the trailer you and JJ now resided in. It was supposed to be a temporary spot but you fell on rough times. That was almost four years ago. 

The day at work dragged on like any other. After missing one shift at the local grocers, JJ was fired and had to take the next available job to let the two of you meet rent. Now he spends his hours (nearly seven days a week) fixing up old fishing rigs. It was gruelling work: lifting and slamming and hammering and loading. Even in the September air, the summer less stifling than before, JJ works up a sweat. He doesn’t have enough food to spare for things like pack dinners so he goes off an apple during his breaks. Sometimes Pope would offer JJ some food if they crossed paths but JJ didn’t want to be a charity case. He was aware how frail the two of you looked though: having about one semi-decent meal a day. Just as the day begins to wrap to a close - the amber sun low in the sky - does Billy, his employer, come over to JJ as he’s scrubbing his hands. 

“Goddamn oil, swear to God,” he mutters under breath, scratching tirelessly at the skin. 

“Hey, JJ, we gotta talk,” Billy sighs. 

JJ looks up and wipes his hands dry on his shirt. “What’s up?”

“Look, uh…” The moment Billy clears his throat, JJ knows what’s coming. “I hate to do this, man, but I gotta let you go.”

“Dude, seriously?” JJ sighs. 

“Look, it ain’t your fault, Jay. I just…The business is going under and I can’t keep all you guys on anymore. I hate to do this to you, I really do, man. I've got your last paycheck here but you, uh, don’t gotta come in on Monday,” Billy not-so-delicately tells him, digging in his pocket and retrieving a white envelope. As he hands it over, he adds, “sorry.”

“Yeah, well,” JJ sighs, taking the money, “sorry don’t pay the bills, does it?”

Before Billy can reply, JJ pockets the paycheck and sets off from the docks towards his truck. He had to trade in his bike a few years back when the two of you married: a truck seemed more practical, especially for the plans you had. The anxiety seeps in as he starts his engine and only rises the closer he gets to home like a flood caused by a running tap in a home. Rubbing at his heart, trying to alleviate the nerves, JJ takes a breath and turns up the drive. He never used to feel this way when coming home to you. In fact, it used to be the highlight of his day. Now he just prays that he can get through the door without the two of you falling into an argument. 

You’re standing at the stove, steam billowing up from the pan that you’re stirring, and at the sound of JJ shoving his way through the entrance, you turn and offer a small smile. It seems like an olive branch for last night. 

“Hey,” you say. 

“Yo,” JJ hums, closing the door. He heads for the pile of envelopes on the cluttered breakfast bar and flicks through them. Every FINAL NOTICE makes him cringe. One is already open and he slips the letter out, but you speak before he has a chance to read a word. 

“We got a week until they shut the gas off,” you tell him. 

“Well, I got the solution to that.”

JJ tries his best to smile as he holds the envelope up. Gasping, you abandon the stove and grin, taking it from him and scanning over the amount. He’s ashamed by his surprise when you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him. He doesn’t have a chance to respond; you’re back at the stove, stirring dinner, within seconds. 

“Yeah, well, that’s the good news,” JJ says. 

Frowning, concerned, you look over your shoulder to him. “There’s bad news?”

JJ can’t meet your gaze as he tells you, “I got let go.”

“What? But I thought–”

“Yeah, me too,” JJ sighs, shaking his head. He leans against the fridge and feels it shudder at his weight. The bottles of cheap wine clink together tellingly and JJ tries not to cringe. “Anyway, how’d your interview go?”

You shake your head, looking back to the pan. “They said they’d let me know in three or so days but I don’t know…They were hard to read.”

He watches you in the artificial light, your now naturally coloured hair looking almost unrecognisable in the glow. You’d stopped dying it a couple years ago because you thought it might make finding work easier. It didn’t. Two ex-convicts, one of which had arguably the worst reputation in Kildare, who disappeared for several months at a time as teenagers. No high school degree, no college degree, no qualifications or former training, and no reputable name to fall back on. JJ contemplates coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you against him. He wants to dance with you in the kitchen to non-existent music and then cuddle up on the couch, sharing a joint and putting the world to right. But he doesn’t. Instead, JJ stays by the fridge. 

“I’m sure you’ll get it.”

“Maybe. You going back to the job centre tomorrow?” 

“Maybe,” JJ echos. He should. It’s hard though. It feels as though every time one of you picks yourself up and dusts yourself off, you get kicked to the dirt again. Jobs felt as unstable and unpromising as a rebound relationship. If either of you can hold down a job in the shaky economy that was the Cut on Kildare, then something in the house needs replacing, and you’re somehow still as broke as you were to start.

Neither of you bring up the argument from last night even though you should. Instead, you eat your dinner in mostly silence as the radio drones on in the background about the weather and the news. JJ’s apology lingers on his tongue but with every mouthful of his grits, it gets brushed away. It stays that way as the evening drags on. One glass of cheap red wine turns into two and three. Somewhere in the tipsy haze, the two of you find one another, naked under the sheets. His bare chest brushes against yours as he kisses desperately at your neck, thrusting into you. As his hands caress along your familiar figure, it feels as though you’re miles away. Or maybe it’s him. Maybe he isn’t the one that’s present, as if standing across the room, watching it all unfold. Your heavy breaths in his ear don’t excite him as they did before. The feeling of your walls squeezing around him doesn’t send him spiralling the same way it used to. It feels as if he’s just going through the motions. Chasing the brief wave of euphoria and distracting himself from the maelstrom of anxiety that is his mind lately. No job, no family, no future.  

“Harder, JJ,” you sigh against his shoulder, your breath warm on his damp skin.

He hardly registers your words and only responds when one of your hands coaxes his hips deeper. Something about the new angle hits JJ just right. His eyes slip shut, a groan falling past his lips as he shudders against your body. He comes rather quickly: the white hot pleasure fast as it passes through him. He lingers inside of you a moment. You lay stone still underneath him.  

“Did you just come?” you ask. 

“Yeah, I just came,” JJ sighs, pulling out of you. Sighing, chest heaving, he flops onto his back beside you. He can feel your stare the same way he did last night. As if trying to escape it, his eyes slip shut. 

“Are you fucking serious, JJ?”

“You know your body better anyway. Go to town,” JJ mumbles. He’s aware of how douchey he sounds but he feels a thousand miles away. He’d only disappoint you anyway. It feels like all he does is disappoint you. 

“Fuck you,” you mutter, climbing out of bed and heading presumably to the bathroom to piss. The door slams the same as it did last night. More arguments and JJ will have to replace the hinges. Just another thing in the house that’ll be added to the list of repairs, with the thing at the top being your relationship. As JJ works through the list in his mind, he drifts off to sleep. He isn’t sure if you ever came back to bed. You’re gone when he wakes up in the morning.  

“I don’t understand man,” John B says. “Why don’t you two just get a divorce?”

JJ’s head snaps to face his best friend. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying–”

“--John B–”

“--You guys are miserable,” he finishes, not letting JJ cut him off. Groaning, JJ shakes his head and paces away. “It’s not like divorce is frowned upon in your family! Your parents did it, hers did it - hell, mine did it too!”

“I don’t wanna divorce her,” JJ says, turning around. He takes his cap from his head and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s damp with sweat from the humid heat of the day. He’d been at his lifelong best friend’s house since eight in the morning, helping to clear up the yard and fix the jetty. Whilst unemployed, JJ may as well keep himself busy. As always, the conversation had veered into relationship territory: John B and Sarah, and JJ and you. The fight was two weeks in the past. You hadn’t let JJ have sex with you since. JJ wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. It just made him feel more confused and disconnected. He didn’t like being the reason you were upset.  

“There’s no shame in it,” John B assures. “You guys were a good fit when we were teenagers but now you’ve grown up and life’s gotten hard. That’s okay.”

“She’s it for me, JB,” JJ states. He wanders over and lovingly pats him on the back, making his way to the cooler for another beer. “I ain’t giving up on us.”

“Cool. So, you’ll just stay stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life then. Awesome,” comes John B’s sardonic response. 

“It’s not loveless. It’s just…going through a rough patch.”

“A two year long rough patch?”

“It’s not as simple as ‘divorce her’,” JJ sighs. The crisp crack of the beer sounds like heaven’s gates opening. “She’s the girl of my literal childhood dreams. And things have been hard for her too. We don’t mean to fight, we just…do.”

“Denial is a six-letter word my friend. You know what else is?”

“Don’t say it–”

“Trauma.”

“JB–”

“I get it! Your dad was shitty and you’re trying to break the cycle! But maybe you can’t! Maybe there isn’t a cycle! Maybe that’s just life!”

“Look, I don’t therapise you so how about you don’t therapise me,” JJ suggests. He tosses a beer to the brown haired man. His face isn’t all that different from when they were young. The crows feet around his eyes are deeper set, as are the laughter and frown lines along his forehead. The stubble on his beard challenges JJ’s. “I’m not gonna give up on us. We just need to reconnect. I feel like we’re always at odds.”

Sighing, John B relents. He clinks his can against JJ’s in an informal cheers. “Well, I hope you’re right and you guys can figure it out. I just want you happy, man.”

Happy. JJ hardly knew the meaning of the word these days. 

He lingers at John B’s house until sunset, when Sarah returns from the hospital. She’d managed to get a spot on a nursing course and was blazing through it. She’d tried to get both you and JJ employed there too but the criminal check killed any chance. She offers for JJ to stay for dinner but he declines, saying that he should head home. The walk back is filled with unnecessary diversions. He goes to the pier where he saw you jump as a kid. He goes by the grocery store that the two of you used to shoplift beers from. He wanders along the coastline where you used to skinny dip in the dead of night. Somehow, JJ ends up outside what used to be his home. Nobody had bought it after the bank repossessed it. Sitting in dilapidation, nature reclaims the isolated structure. It’s barely recognisable to JJ. Seeing it in such a way makes JJ question if his childhood was even real. The traumatic memories feel as though they don’t fit well on this canvas: it’s too peaceful and serene. He leans down and grabs a large rock from the floor and hurls it towards one of the windows. It shatters through the glass and thuds as it lands on the floorboards inside. A small smile pushes onto JJ’s ageing face. That’s better. He continues to walk home. 

It’s pitch black outside by the time JJ makes it back. He wonders if you might have gone to bed as he walks up the porch steps, dodging the broken one, reminding himself to fix it. The house is cast in a warm glow from the living room floor lamp when JJ walks in. The kitchen has been cleaned up and for once seems almost homely. His eyes are immediately drawn to your frame, sat crossed legged on the sofa. A large shoebox sits on the coffee table, the lid off, and a stack of old VHS tapes sit in a pile to its right. There’s a bottle of open red wine and a half filled glass too. You’re looking down at something. 

“Hey,” he says, closing the door behind him. 

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing?”

You finally look up. You’d put your nose ring back in and it shines under the gentle glare of the lamp. A smile blesses your features. “I was going through the closet to see if I could sell some old clothes and found the picture box. Remember how we were gonna hang some up when we first moved here? I think we still should.”

JJ grabs a glass for himself and joins you on the sofa. You smell like soap and shea butter. He pours himself a glass of wine.

“Look,” you say, holding the picture out for him to see. He places down in his glass on the table and takes the photo from you. JJ chuckles quietly under breath. It’s of John B and JJ when they were younger; they sit on their surfboards, legs submerged in the water, hair damp, smiles brimming and big. “Cute, huh?”

“Very cute,” JJ agrees. He places it amongst the pile of scattered pictures strewn across the table and picks another out. It’s of Kiara, pulling a stupid face as she lounges outside the Chateau. Sarah throwing up peace signs. A candid of Pope and John B playing cards one afternoon. You, dangling upside down from the slats of the jetty, lilac hair barely scraping the surface of the water. 

“I like this one.”

JJ leans into you to see the picture in your hands. He smiles at the sight. One of the Pogues must have taken it. You both look about eighteen. You’re sat on one of the deckchairs that resided outside of the Chateau, talking vivaciously, hands gesturing wildly and smiling wide. JJ’s just staring at you, a lovesick smile on his young face, chin resting on his fist. For a while, the two of you sit in the drip-drip-drip of the kitchen sink, staring at the picture as if in a trance. 

“You used to adore me,” you whisper. 

JJ’s brows knit together. He looks down at you. “I still do.”

Your laugh is sad. Your eyes remained trained on the moment frozen in time. “Not like you used to. Not like before.”

“Before what?” JJ mumbles, heart suddenly heavy. 

You look up and meet his gaze. Whatever emotion is on your face makes JJ want to cry. “You know what.”

He shakes his head, his lips quivering. “That’s not true.”

“Everything changed after that.”

“It’s not true,” he says again. His hand slips up, cupping your cheek, and his body sings when you lean into his hold. “That weren’t your fault. It never was and never will be.”

“But would you still have married me,” you begin to ask, voice turning thick as the tears start to build, “if you knew? If I knew before.”

“Yes,” JJ swiftly answers. 

“JJ–”

“--You’re it for me,” he says. His forehead gently falls forward, resting against yours, needing to be closer. “Girl of my dreams.”

“Even if…” You take in a shaky breath, trying desperately not to cry. “Even if I can’t give you a family.”

“You are my family. I got everything I need right here.” 

Something between a sob and laugh shakes your body. You sniff and nod fervently against him. JJ sweeps his calloused finger across your cheek. He feels the warmth that radiates from your skin. Inhales the soothing smell that is you. Counts the smattering of blemishes and freckles and scars that decorate your skin like cracks in an antique painting. They don’t take from your beauty - they just speak to the value. 

“I’m sorry,” he hears himself say. 

It’s your turn to frown now. Opening your eyes, they shimmer with unshed tears. “What’d you mean?”

“I’m so sorry I let you marry me,” he says in brutal honesty. “This ain’t the life you deserve.”

“JJ–”

“You deserve so much more than this. More than all this scrimping and saving. You deserve your house. Your pastel blue house, with those white shutters and the porch - that damn wrap around porch - and your cats and dogs.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. Your own hands come up, cradling his face just as he has your own, and you smile dotingly up at him. For the first time in months, JJ feels as though he recognises you. JJ feels as though he recognises himself. 

“I don’t need all that, JJ,” you tell him. “That’s just stuff. Things. You said it best: I have everything I’ve ever needed right here.”

“You don’t gotta say that,” JJ gently argues. “This trailer isn’t a house, baby.”

“No, it ain’t,” you agree. “It’s a home. It’s our home.”

“Baby,” JJ sighs. His eyes slip shut, unable to look at you, feeling nothing less than a failure. 

“You remember our wedding day?” you ask him. JJ can’t help but snort. 

“Course I do.”

“Remember our vows?”

His lips can’t help but upturn as he follows your train of thought. He was always good at following your mind. 

“For richer–”

“--for poor,” JJ finishes. 

The caress of your finger along his jawline has JJ close to tears. 

“We’re gonna be okay,” you tell him softly. “We're gonna get through all this. It’s just God’s test, that's all, and we’re gonna pass it, and it’ll be okay again. I promise.”

JJ manages to open his eyes and face you. You’re smiling up at him, gazing as if he was the entire solar system laid before you, and the anxiety slips away as suddenly as winter changes to spring. 

“My good looking boy,” you whisper. 

JJ’s never been good with his words. But sometimes words aren’t needed. 

His lips find yours like a bird migrating home. You immediately hold him close to you, tilting his face with yours to deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours. The taste of red wine is strangely erotic and it spurs JJ on. He sighs against you, pushing deeper as if to consume you. Your fingers slip into his hair; nails teasing at his scalp, combing through the sea salt treated strands. JJ’s hands sink away from your face, tracing along your arms, down to your waist. You sink into the cushions of the sofa on your back as JJ climbs atop. His lips map across your cheeks, along your jaw, find home on your neck and collarbones. 

“I missed you so much,” he confesses in a breath against your sensitive skin. 

The removal of clothes is like a ritual: each piece commemorated with kisses and love bites and praises. Your hands explore one another’s naked bodies as if it were your first time. Like a blind man regaining sight, JJ is in awe of your effortless beauty. The way your back arches at the trace of his finger along your sternum, down to your weeping cunt. You clench helplessly around his digits as he fingers you, slow and sensual, savouring every moan and whine. 

“Missed you so fucking much, baby,” JJ sighs against your thigh. Presses kisses against the stretch mark decorated skin, like watering tree roots. “So fucking pretty.”

“JayJ,” you croon, eyes clenched shut, a balled up fist rubbing helplessly at your forehead. 

His tongue laps at your clit, suckles at the wet, driven by the feel of your fingers knotting in his hair. You climax with a gasp, soaking his fingers and lips, overstimulated until you’re gently pushing him away and pulling him up to you. He’s painfully hard as he kisses you. When your hand softly takes hold of him, he sighs against your mouth. 

“I missed you,” you tell him between kisses. Your hand rubs at him in long, meaningful strokes, thumb occasionally teasing over the tip. JJ groans against your chest, eyes pressed shut, trying to revel in the feeling of having you so close, having you jacking him off, whilst trying desperately not to come. But you know him better than anybody else. You know when to guide him to your entrance, coating him in your slick. JJ kisses at your nipple as he sinks into you. He doesn’t feel miles away this time as he fucks you into the sofa. Doesn’t feel like he’s stranded across the room as he makes love to you for the first time in months, maybe even years. 

Your begs and pleas and praises are like words from the lord being spoken into JJ’s ears in your breathy whimpers. Harder, deeper, feels so fuckin’ good, faster. JJ’s no better, slurring anything that slips into his mind as he sinks in and out of you. So fuckin’ wet, prettiest fuckin’ pussy in the world, tell me how bad you need it. His hand holds an almost mean grip on your hip whilst his other finds your left. JJ intertwines your fingers as the two of you chase your highs, the digits slick with sweat, slipping in the hold but never letting go.

"I'm s'close," you whine, hooking your legs over his hips, driving him deeper.

"Fuck, feels so fuckin' good," JJ grunts, ploughing into you. "So fuckin' good for me."

"Please, JJ," you gasp. You're so close. JJ fucks you hard and fast. "Please, please, please..."

You come first, gasping and panting against JJ’s ear, and he follows, moaning desperately against your clammy skin. His eyes slip shut as he rests atop of you. 

JJ blinks awake, somewhat disorientated. For the first time in forever, his aching back isn’t the first thing he registers. Instead, it’s the steady rise and fall of the warm body underneath him. He slowly lifts his head to find you, sleeping soundly, still naked. He’s soft inside of you and gently slips out with a small shudder. You stir only slightly but soon drift back off to sleep. JJ gets up carefully so as to not disturb your slumber. The bathroom doesn’t feel as grimy when he goes inside to pee, and his face looks younger, lighter, refreshed, when he checks the mirror as he washes his hands. After tugging on a pair of boxers and an old t-shirt, he returns to the living room. You’ve curled up on your side, snoring quietly, and JJ smiles. How could he forget how beautiful you are? He lays a blanket over your body and plants a kiss to your hair. Then, he begins to tidy away some of the pictures. As you requested, he leaves out some that he thinks you might like to be framed, one of which is from your wedding day: the two of you laughing as you smush cake against one another’s mouths. His eyes fall on the tapes and he picks them up, flicking through them. He takes pause at one. Luke and Marie’s Wedding Tape. He stares at it like the box of Jumangi, both terrified and enticed.

JJ powers up the TV, ensuring it’s on silent, and turns on the old tape player. By some miracle, it still works. He slips the tape in and swallows the lump in his throat, and sits on the sofa beside where your head rests. You’re still dead to the world, snuggled up cosy in your blanket cocoon, and JJ’s weirdly grateful for your company as the tape kicks to life. It’s grainy at first, the picture wobbly, but soon enough the image comes to life. His dad who JJ hasn’t seen in years stands young and stupid at the altar. His mother who JJ wouldn’t know if she passed him in the street stands young and forgiving opposite. They’re speaking soundless words, smiling. JJ isn’t aware that he’s started crying until a teardrop lands on his hand. He wipes his cheek absently, eyes fixated on the screen. He watches as they dance: giggling, graceful, giddy. Just as you were the day JJ laid his eyes on you. 

Maybe John B was right. Maybe JJ did want to break the pattern. It wasn't either of your faults that you both reacted to adversity the way you did. Years of built-up anger and rage and pain with nowhere to go but within was like a boiling over crockpot of disaster. Two borderline-abandoned, abused teenagers married at eighteen? Of course you didn't have the blueprint for how to be a functional couple. Neither of you knew the definition of compromise, or backing down, or making peace. All you knew was pain and betrayal and self-defence. But that could change. It would take time and patience, but it could. JJ wanted it to. He was sick of working against you. You were a team before and you would be a team again. JJ never wanted to go to war against you, not when you were the best soldier on his team. JJ had always feared love because he feared what it would make him. Would he be like his father or his mother: resent or retreat?

As JJ's eyes sweep down to your sleeping self, he decides what he'll be. He'll be neither. He'll be himself. He'll be resilient.

One of JJ's hands raises and his fingers lovingly stroke at your hair. You don’t wake, just shift a little, and a barely there smile slinks onto your face. 

“Don’t give up on me, baby,” JJ mumbles, petting the strands of your ever changing hair. His good looking girl. “These times are hard and they’re makin’ us go crazy, but don’t give up on me. Cause I meant every word.”

For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish…

"Til' death do us part."

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗥 𝗘𝗔𝗧

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓����𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N participates in the TRUTH OR EAT video from behind the camera.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, from @mxqdii

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N and the triplets were in Matt's car, Chris and Nick sitting in the back seat while the only girl there sat next to her boyfriend in the passenger seat. The camera used to record the videos on the Sturniolo Triplets channel was positioned in its usual place as it stared back at Y/N.

The car had just entered the Taco Bell drive thru line when Matt reached over and clicked the button to start recording, his right hand going straight for his girlfriend's left thigh while his left handled the steering wheel, stepping on the accelerator carefully until the four's turn arrived.

When the car stopped next to the order window, Y/N stretched a little to her left, getting closer to Matt so that the attendant could hear her clearly, starting to list the order, having previously asked for the boys what they wanted to eat.

Matt gave her a quick look of gratitude, which the girl responded with a sincere smile, knowing that he wasn't feeling up to talking to a stranger that day.

It didn't take long for the order to come out and a few minutes later the four were home again, Nick organizing the tripod that would hold the camera facing the kitchen counter while Matt and Chris sat in their respective places, Chris holding the box with the order.

Y/N chose to sit behind the camera on a pink bean bag chair that she retrieved from her shared room with Matt, sitting comfortably with a tray on her lap, where her order was still unopened, opting to wait for the boys to start eating for her to do it too, this being a custom created by them.

Soon, Nick clicked the record button, and the video intro began. Y/N watched them with a small smile on her face, her hands free having chosen to put her phone away to give her full attention to the triplets' work that day, just as she did every time she participated in some way.

"Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?" Chris asked the first question, his left hand holding the half-open black notebook as his face was turned towards Matt and Nick.

Matt finished swallowing what he had in his mouth, his right hand raised holding the taco in the air.

"Yes." He responded quickly, shrugging. His blue eyes quickly glanced at Y/N, who was trying not to laugh, already knowing the story.

"Teacher's pet." Y/N hummed, Nick's head turning to her quickly, a big smile growing on his face before he joined her on the singing. "If I'm so special, why am I a secret?" They sang together while dancing with their hands, laughing loudly.

Matt brought the taco back to his mouth, taking a bite, ignoring his girlfriend and brother before smiling with his mouth full as he heard his brothers yelling at him to wait.

"Really? Does Y/N know about this?" Chris asked with a smirk, looking sideways at the girl, receiving a nod from both sides.

"Yes, and I don't judge, I also had a crush on a teacher." She said, taking a bite of her own taco.

"Tell me more about that." Nick asked, his eyes going from Matt to Y/N repeatedly.

"You don't want to know." Matt replied with his mouth full, earning chuckles from the two beside him. Nick looked at Y/N, waiting for her to tell Matt's story or her own, despite her not being in the game.

"Don't look at me." She said, raising her arms in surrender, showing to him that she wouldn't say anything.

Nick and Chris rolled their eyes at the lack of information, the older one making a mental note to ask Y/N about it later before clicking on his phone screen, making the countdown start again.

"What's your guilty pleasure song, and when was the last time you listened to it and got into the groove?" Nick asked after telling Matt to finish chewing his last bite, positioning the open notebook with the covers up and holding the neon green highlighter in his right hand, an eager smile on his face.

Y/N let out a laugh muffled by her hand, already knowing what the answer would be since it was technically her fault.

"Hmm... I'll have to check the exact one on my phone." Matt said, taking his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it, opening his music app.

"Is there more than one?" Chris asked in a curious tone.

"Maybe. Actually, I don't have a song that I'm exactly embarrassed to listen to, but I do have songs that I prefer to listen to alone or with Y/N." Matt replied, pressing his lips into a thin line trying to contain his smile as he opened the playlist shared with his girlfriend, thanking himself internally for using a privacy film, preventing Nick from seeing the name of the playlist and the songs there.

Matt rolled his thumb across his phone's screen, stopping at a specific song before pressing play, the angelic opening melody of Only Angel by Harry Styles starting to play, Nick and Chris having to lean in and almost cling to Matt to be able to see the name of the music and it's artist.

"Harry Styles?" The oldest asked in a surprised tone, widening his eyes and looking at Y/N, who was smiling big while following the female voice from the beginning and making gestures with her hands as if she was holding an invisible guitar.

Nick quickly paused the song before it went over the allowed time and got copyright on the video.

"She's a devil in between the sheets." Y/N hummed again as she crumpled the paper that previously wrapped her taco, having finished it, receiving disgusted looks from Chris and Nick while Matt smirked.

"It's her fault and her obsession with Harry Styles." Matt said, shrugging as he locked his phone and put it back in his pocket.

"So Harry Styles is your guilty pleasure, huh?" Chris joked, smirking and raising his eyebrows.

"Don't be weird." Matt pushed his shoulder, rolling his eyes.

"This song is great, don't even start." Y/N argued from behind the camera, huffing.

Chris scoffed and waved his hand as if it wasn't all that, taking the notebook back as Nick clicked the button for the time to start counting again, Matt going back to eating his taco.

"Time's up!" Nick spoke loudly when the countdown hit 0, clicking on his phone screen and watching Matt put the last piece of his second taco on the table, finishing swallowing what he had in his mouth and looking at Chris.

"What are the first three things that you look for in a significant other?" Chris asked as he looked at the open notebook, before underlining the question asked and closing it.

Matt looked past the camera, his eyes meeting Y/N's as a smile spread across his face. He knew all three by heart, hell he knew all three, ten, twenty and all the things he looked for in a significant other, because Y/N had them all.

He learned and discovered everything he wanted in someone he loved with her, after all the girl was and is his first girlfriend and they would already complete four years together. The two grew out of adolescence together and learned important things about themselves together as well.

"First, that she knows how to communicate." Matt began, holding up the index finger of his right hand. "Communication is very important in a relationship, and I had to learn this along with her. As you already know, I have anxiety and this has hold me back many times in my life from saying what I was feeling or what I wanted, generating a greater discomfort in me and future fights. When Y/N and I started dating we were 16 years old, we were still new to everything and as the days and months of dating went by we learned together that the ideal was: we felt uncomfortable about anything? Call your partner and tell them right away, to try to fix that or improve the situation in some way, because we saw that when we kept it inside, it always generated fights in the future. So communication is the key and the first thing."

"They grow up so fast." Nick sniffled playfully, pretending to wipe away an invisible tear.

"That was such a beautiful answer, Matt." Chris said while clapping his hands with an exaggerated expression of pride, leaning over Matt and hugging him from the side. Matt rolled his eyes at the two, a smile spreading across his face as he patted Chris on the back.

Y/N let out a laugh with the brothers, shouting in encouragement to her boyfriend, who let out a low laugh, lowering his head in embarrassment.

"Can I continue?" He asked, covering his face with his hands to hide his flushed cheeks, speaking again when he saw his brothers fall silent and gesture for him to keep going. "The second one isn't as serious as the first, but if she can rock on a man's polo shirt." Matt said, raising the middle finger of his right hand, making a total of two raised.

"Like, wear a man's polo shirt and look cool with it on?" Nick asked, turning to face Matt, who nodded.

"Y/N can wear anything and look good, it's no wonder she goes to college to become a fashion designer and is a fashion influencer on Instagram and Tiktok." Chris commented, passing the black notebook and green highlighter to Nick. Matt nodded as he pointed his hand at Chris with an "exactly" look.

"And she always takes my clothes from my side of the closet and uses them in the outfits she puts together and it always looks really good." Matt added like a pround boyfriend.

Y/N smiled behind the camera, she loved it when the boys spoke highly of her clothes, creating her outfits every day was her biggest hobby.

"And the last one I think is just goals and aspirations of her own. Y/N was always a very dreamy girl and thought about what she wanted to be in life since I met her when we were 14, and not only that, but she went after what she wanted and and always reached them." Matt finished, raising his ring finger before lowering all three fingers he had up.

"Matt, you're so..." Chris began, trying to complete the sentence but getting lost in the good words he could use. "I loved hearing your answers. They were really good." He finally finished with a big smile on his face, his voice getting high pitched with the happiness used when expressing himself.

"Yeah, your relationship is an example of a good relationship. It's very beautiful to see how much you've evolved together, it's no wonder that you're going to complete four years together." Nick commented, a look of pride spreading across his face as he opened his notebook to look for the first question he would ask Chris.

Matt looked at Y/N beyond the camera, a goofy smile appearing on his face at the sight of her lovey dovey gaze.

"I love you." She spoke voiceless, blowing a kiss in the air that Matt pretended to catch and put in the pocket of his hoodie.

"I love you more." He replied voicelessly as well, before finishing his taco and switching places with Chris.

Y/N's heart warmed as she rethought Matt's answers, a feeling of pride spreading through her body. She loved him so much and had so much appreciation for the relationship they had built together. She hoped that they could always grow more and try to be better people every day together, too.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"I lived to see Matt listening to Harry Styles."

"Harry being Matt's guilty pleasure, I get you, Matt."

"The communication part is so real and so important to say!!"

"Matt seems like a super thoughtful boyfriend 🥺"

"omg, 4 years together, that's so cool 😫."

"I love Matt and Y/N together so much!!"

"Y/N and Nick singing Teacher's Pet together 😭"

"I adore Y/N's friendship with Chris and Nick!!"

"Petition for Y/N to do a GRWM just with Matt's clothes ✏️📄"

[mygnolia]

FALLING FOR MY MC! ౨ৎ y. jungwon

୨୧ -› where a music bank mc and leader of the hottest k-pop group meet and fall in love (again)

pair -› idol!yang jungwon x radio/podcast host!!reader | trope -› childhood friends to lovers | wc -› 1.9k | REN SAYS.. i thought this idea was cute when someone requested fanboy won + weekly idol mc reader (i never watch weekly idol so have music bank instead..) and im scared of writing idol x fangirl entirely so have this spinoff! | library

- you and jungwon have been friends for a while even before he went on i-land

- he’s always been into performing, singing, and especially dancing

- sometimes you’d stay behind at school and watch him do taekwondo + dancing

- and while he was student body president, you were the president of broadcasting too!

- you loved to talk to others and be in front of a camera and also wanted to make your own padcast, but never really knew how

- so you two were definitely in communication because of your positions!

- and… drum roll please… jungwon gets a little crush on you

- let’s just say he started thinking about you whenever you started morning broadcast for the school… or when you announced his name and his plans as student body president he went all blush-y

- he thought you were super cool and loved how effortless you were in front of everyone

- like time slows down when he looks at you, his eyes go glittery everyone else disappears..

- HES WHIPPED I FEAR!!!

more under the cut :3

- you two hung out a lot afterschool and sometimes at each others houses, but you also had other friends- friends who would also become idols!!

- you’re friends with chaewon and ningning hehe

- so now that highschools kind of ending, a lot of your friends started seriously pursuing music and the idol life, but you were never quite as devoted as they were

- and unfortunately by senior year, jungwon left for i-land :(

- you tried to be close but they didn’t allow outside communication and summer left you extremely busy

- and you were really sad that you couldn’t hang out with jungwon as much, but you still had other friends and were close to many from your school because of how big your journalism class was (aka where you did your broadcasting duties)

- but watching iland was your pasttime!! you voted jungwon EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. because you knew how much work went into his skills

- and who even cares if it was biased everyone was biased in their voting

- and you loved the drama and all his other members (but god it was heartbreaking and when jungwon stood on that second to elimination stage you cried)

- when enhypen debuted, you stayed a fan not just because of jungwon, but because of his interactions and their music

- enhypen was popular from the get-go because of iland, and you paid attention to their comebacks and texted jungwon every so often

- you two weren’t able to meet because of his busy tour schedule and back to back combacks (FREE MY BOYS)

- but you always supported them wherever whenever, and even trying to get concert tickets to attend whenever they were in your area

- plus you were still a broke college student and busy with your own interests

- but it didn’t stop you from consuming their content

- and if something happened you’d text jungwon, not really expecting a text back since he was so busy, but he’d always try to respond

- “omg not your cactus dying???” and he’d respond with some laughing

- “maeumi is so big now i saw her on your live on your arm” “STOP IT WAS SO EMBARRASSING”

- little things here and there

- and maybe yes… you were a little fangirl…

- ALBUM PULLS WERE HALF JUNGWON SOME SUNOO SOME HEESEUNG BTW!!! you were eating up your pc album

- and you’d always compliment him after a comeback or a show you went to

- “ahh! tamed-dashed is so good i think my fav song from your album is just a little bit! make sure you rest so your pictures turn out cute :)”

- OK BUT THE MOMENT YOU TRULY FELL FOR HIM like actually a ‘wtf omg why is yang jungwon so HOT why do i have a MASSIVE CRUSH ON HIM (again)”

- was…drum roll…l’officiel jungwon with only the blazer and then dicon tw-en-ty years jungwon with the cherry photoshoot (not projecting LOL haha…)

- yeah you were whipped

- but ofc you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, trying to keep your comments supportive more than fangirl-y

- you and jungwon finally have time to catch up when he’s back home for a bit, and he texts you more often since you were still somewhat busy with school

- and you two reminisce on how he wanted to be an idol pre-iland and how you love to talk on the radio which he’s listened to a few times!!! (yapper y/n agenda!!!)

- and you still loved to do broadcasting even in university

- you were on a few broadcast groups and was a temporary university podcast host for studying encouragement and you shared your struggles as an incoming upperclassman

- many people listened for the tips and fun story submissions to listen to while studying!

- and you’d look for jobs and hoped to find a larger podcast or station

- so much so that you auditioned and reached out to a popular radio show host about love and dating advice called ’Let’s Find You Love!’

- and your station was SUPER popular considering how sweet and sincere your advice was

- you were honest with viewers in toxic relationships and also got popular online

- special valentines day episode! you and your host shared stories about YOUR first crush and love experiences

- your host shared some bad relationships and what not to do! but you…?? you had a crush on yang jungwon. still. ofc he looked good!!!

- “to be honest, there was this boy in highschool who i liked, and i wish i got to ask him out, honestly. he was super sweet every time we talked, and he was always so hardworking.” and with the way you said it, the people who knew you from school couldn’t deduce if it was someone close to you or someone who you pined over from a distance

- agh the mystery!! everyone is hooked on your cute story, telling you to admit your crush to him!

- BUT HELLO?? ITS LEADER OF ENHYPEN JUNGWON YOU CANT DO THAT!!!

- tiktok frl went ‘damn i want someone to talk about me the way y/n from lets find u love talked about her crush’

- but it became a HUGE hit

- so much so that music bank reached out and WOAHHH

- they want you?? as??? an??? mc????

- usually they would pick idols, but the idol that did their music bank performance had an injury, and you were doing it alone since music bank didn’t want to start rumors!

- and woah.. enhypen new comback had you on your KNEES

- plus listening to jungwon is always so satisfying, especially to see him grow and explore different concepts and looks, you were not only loving the face cards being served but also his energy and love for his fans!!

- so yeah, safe to say your feelings for him were still there..

- but then they perform on music bank for xo, and you’re…THERE???

- jungwon’s looking at you, who’s looking super pretty as you rehearse your lines and the stylists are adding to your look before the show

- and he turns to his members like dude.

- and all of them are confused like ?? “jungwon what’s wrong..”

- “DUDE MY CHILDHOOD FRIEND IS HERE AS THE MC AND SHE’S SO PRETTY”

- thankfully camera crew was on break..but when they were back

- yeah fans were defo in their comments like “woah why is jungwonnie so nervous??” literally who’s gonna tell them the girl he hasn’t seen in like 6 years is in front of him pretty like how he remembers??

- and you kind of wanted to surprise jungwon by not telling him, but you also never had the time to speak up with all the media training you needed

- everyone was excited for you to be mc! it was a change of pace but a fun one for the audience

- welp it’s go time!!

- “hello everyone!! woah.. is it time for..my dating advice segment? nono! i’m here as…” you pretend to open a letter and look around “music bank’s emcee?? wow, such an honor!!” and ofc you turn on the dramatics to act

- and what group to walk in but enhypen…

- jungwon smiles IMMEDIATELY. fans analyzed this whole video

- ‘dude jungwon is WHIPPED for that mc’ ‘jungwon when he meets the pretty mc” “so we’re all seeing jungwon check out the girl on music bank or…”

- you had your own little script related to their new concept, asking a few questions and then moving onto a member specific question

- “jungwonnie! i noticed you wrote the part for hundred broken hearts! can we have you sing it?”

- THING IS…who says ‘jungwonnie’ so freely?? if you guys never met?? yeah speculation was running a little out of hand fr!

Jungwon shakes his head, dimples reappearing as he takes another look at you and nods. He sings his written part into the mic, and unknowingly, you smile too. “Ah- sorry, I’m too nervous to be singing it well.” And you scoff at him, looking around at his members. “He did it great, don’t you agree, Jake? Your voice is like an angel.” You call out to Jake, who originally sings that part.

Jake tells you, “Agh, he might steal my fans if he decides to sing that part live” and you laugh, eyes crinkling as you smile at Jake’s response to move onto the next question.

- and jungwon in that moment remembers why he liked you

- your laugh, your smile, your easy-going nature, and how much you had chased for your passions over the years

- and he’s just super super proud of you for where you are now, being a literal mc

- and he knows you love doing it

- after a bit more talking they went to perform and you went back!

- he’s super nervous after their performance and the members tease him for his little crush saying how he’d get a girlfriend before all of them

- oh yeah engenes were raving abt u

- “jungwonie’ and he doesn’t even look uncomfortable they must be friends”

- it takes a few internet detectives to figure out that it’s him who used to go to school with you and it’s him who you had a huge crush on woahhh

- and then jungwon found out.

- “y/n!! look at this tiktok lolol” “jungwon why is it titled ‘y/nwon confirmed with evidence’”“it’s funny >.<“

- ur freaking out like crazy

- cuz wdym jungwon SAW IT AND FOUND IT FUNNY

- so you’re like “haha yeah so funny…anyways wyd if it’s true.”

- and he’s like freaking out on his end like omfg is it true omg does she know “idk walk over and cuddle and kiss” HE BOLD!!

- anyways ygs do just that!! sooo cute and you two are very very secretive

- until…drum roll pls..one year after the initial valentines day episode on your podcast aka 7 months after you started dating jungwon

- and he’s waiting in your living room with all of your gifts but you have no idea since you’re recording live in your studio

- “for this valentines day episode i had people submit some cute love stories! and yes i will share one of my own”

- and you read all of them and laugh at the cute stories about love because yes love we love love!

- “the moment you were waiting for! so, little one year update, but i listened to you all and the boy i liked in highschool is now my boyfriend and we’ve been together 7 months!”

- yeah the internet freaked out

- because the timeline from xo comeback to valentines day makes sense for the engenes who knew

- but ygs are so cute so who’s complaining

reblogs + interactions are always appreciated :)

[six-eyed-samurai]

DIALING...

Silly reasons the Tokyo Rev Boys have dialed you for based off…actual reasons…people have called me for…

🌸Takemitchy calls you for conversation, which suddenly turns to school and "WAIT DON'T WE HAVE A TEST TOMORROW?". Obviously the both of you panic and whip out your books, meaning to study together via phone call but also simultaneously realize you've forgotten the topic...and which class it was for. The rest of the call is just sitting in panicked silence, punctuated with the occasional "We're so screwed."

🌸It’s canon Izana plays guitar! Do you ever think he writes his own songs as well? Maybe, and that's why he calls you in the middle of the night to tell you about it, wanna hear it, oh am I bothering you, it's fine you don't have to listen now (and you'll say “I SAID I'D LISTEN TO IT AND I WILL KUROKAWA NOW SING.”), any suggestions for improvements? And then somehow it spirals into the both of you doing your utmost best to be off key, off tune and completely ruin the song with as many voice cracks as possible.

🌸Chifuyu, bless his heart, calls you out of the blue with no prior warning, at an inconvenient time and scares you enough for a heart attack, but he doesn't realize it, too intent on forcing you to watch the latest anime trailer for the both of your favourite manga with him after you say you can't load the video. He’s downright scandalized, and in his defense he did text you about what he was going to do - only you hadn’t understood he meant call as in call now. I mean, at least the both of you got a kick out of it as he shares his screen, so win-win?

🌸I think Inupi would call you for no particular reason other than to be in your company. You both don't say much but somehow the call spirals to a three hour dial. Whenever one of you gets up you'll flip the camera to show the other where you’re going or what you’re doing. Inupi likes to think it’s like the both of you are having lunch together, doing that jigsaw puzzle together, doing the dishes together…it’s alright if you spend two thirds of the time in silence, your company is enough for him.

🌸Koko calls you for a venting session! He rants about the idiots he’s encountered, his worries, the gang, money problems, boasts on how much he’s made today, stuff he’s bought you, anything really. He knows he could’ve just texted you about it but it’s a lot more personal for him if you pick up and reply back talking, but occasionally he does feel bad he keeps calling you - although you assure him you love it! You do, really, because in turn you get to vent about whatever’s on your mind and Koko always has the best reactions (damn if that girl hasn’t been an absolute bxxch, nooo, she did what now?). He’s like a gal pal and a boyfriend combined.

🌸You’re the one to call Baji, actually, because it’s the only way to get him to study with you if you’re not free to go to his place. You put up with his complaining and force him to answer a bunch of quizzes. The study session goes great for the first half….then somehow you both get sidetracked when Baji says he’s bored and leaves to make yakisoba. You make him take the phone with him and it could’ve been romantic, both of you making noodles from your ends of the line! But no, Baji ends up getting distracted flirting with you and overcooks it into a mushy mess that has you gagging and hanging up on him.

🌸Ran and you call for normal-people reasons like chatting or studying, but more often than not Ran’s childish nature has him more interested in playing with the phone call’s filters (if let’s say you’re using apps like Instagram) and making you pose with him before screenshotting - by the way, you’re the one doing that, because Ran has TERRIBLE timing when it comes to taking photos. If there’s those filters that let you draw on your screen self, oh man does Ran love doodling moustaches, beards, cat ears, the whole gig. If you don’t call him handsome he gets pouty and threatens to hang up or leak that ugly screenshot of you when the phone froze from lag.

🌸With no apology to your ears, Sanzu will call you at 3 a.m. in the morning to either a) make the most terrifying/fart noises known to mankind or b) bombard you with meaningless philosophical questions that made you get out of bed and actually Google them. Of course he doesn’t do this all the time, mostly when he’s high as a kite. Yet you KNOW for a fact he’s sober that night when he suddenly dialed your number and when you picked up, dead silent until the most unholiest rendition of your favorite song is being sung (read: screamed) out. You yelp and hang up, but not before you hear him cackling.

🌸He’s the sort to honestly forget to call you but when he does Mikey makes the call drag on for hours because he has his ways of making you not hang up, but the times he DOES remember to call you is after you tell him no, you can’t eat twenty five dorayaki in one go, I’m not paying for that. He’ll be feeling petty and when he gets his hands on dorayaki he calls you for no other reason than to chew it as loudly as possible next to the microphone so you get the Mikey Premium Dessert ASMR. If you hang up he’s sending voice recordings.

[franabz]

★Random 141 headcanons

Ghost is on the aroace spectrum, only having sexual feelings towards someone under very specific circumstances or a very strong bond. He's probably only had one or two "partners" in his life, both spanning throughout grade school. He also has commitment issues due to the amount of people he has lost in his line of work.

Ghost is a very good listener, despite popular belief. You give him a good story or gossip and you best believe he is sat down directly beside you, his eyes never leaving yours between small invested nods or subtle reactions behind his balaclava-concealed face.

Ghost is a picky eater, though after having been in the military for years now it has significantly gotten better. Well, anything is better than those god forsaken MRE packs, anyway. He still has certain foods he will scrunch his face and glare at behind his mask, but still eat; though begrudgingly.

Price is definitely a gift giver. Randomly showing up one day in front of your barracks to present you a little trinket that he claimed reminded him of you.

Price is always checking up on his fellow soldiers, making sure they are taking care of themselves and not neglecting their own needs. He knows how many soldiers tend to neglect their mental health first hand.

Price had a massive sweet tooth. He claims to hate anything sweet and says chocolate tastes like "dog shite", but the second he's along with some good pastries or sweets, you bet your ass they're gone by the time you get back. He somehow never gets caught.

Soap is a huge adrenaline junkie. You ever going to a theme park? He's already begging on his hands and knees to go with you, practically dragging you by the arm onto every single roller coaster and giddy with adrenaline the entire time in the line. He has definitely been on the slingshot ride more than once.

Soap has definitely slipped the Scotland national anthem into your playlists more times than once, silently wheezing to himself as he watches you go about your day, only to suddenly stop everything you were doing to slowly turn to look at him, knowing exactly who did it.

Soap gives the best hugs. You having a rough day and just need some alone time? Well too bad, he's already halfway to your barracks just to pull you into his arms in a huge bear hug (bonus points if you're shorter and he can lift you). Somehow always seems to lighten someone's day no matter how upset they are.

Gaz takes up photography on his free time. He even invested in a fancy expensive camera to take logs and photos of places he's been, food he's eaten, scenery, and friends. His personal favorite is a picture of Soap in a bar piss-drunk while mid way singing his heart out to whatever was on the karaoke machine, his arm slung around Ghost's shoulder to support himself and a half empty scotch on-hand.

Gaz can play piano, and very well at that. It is one of those hidden talents that nobody would have suspected from him until it actually happened. The group is strolling around a plaza during their off days between missions, finding a stray piano and watching in shock as Gaz suddenly hops into the seat and gives the rest of the group a knowing look, before completely taking the show away. "The hell'd you learn t'do that, Sergeant?" Price practically choked on his cigar.

Gaz has a roommate back at home, as well as a pet... parrot? An African Grey to be exact. He is always eager to get back home to his beloved bird and roommate, one of which practically became family to him at this point. He doesn't talk about his personal life much, hence why the rest of 141 was so surprised to hear he had a roommate. The one day he invited 141 to his apartment after a mission just to hang out gave them quite the surprise when they heard two unfamiliar voices; one from his roommate, and one from the bird. Definitely scared Soap more than once.

[ninthskzmember]

Sweet revenge

Hwang Hyunjin x reader.

idol!hyunjin x idol!reader word count: 1,3k warnings: kinda angsty, jealous hyunjin (lives in my head rent free), resentful reader, swearing. note: hi guys! i just wanted to keep a little update for you all while i'm working with the 2min sharing is caring part. i hope you enojoy this. <3 love ya.

"So you're really doing it"

"I'm totally doing it"

"Everyone is gonna know..."

"Yeah, that's kind of the idea" You smiled at her "I want him to feel as stupid as I did"

"Yeah, I get it but―"

"Stop defending him" you cutted her off. "If you're on his side then be, but don't come here and annoy me"

"I'm not" she added "What he did was wrong, periodt. BUT" she emphasized the last word "You'll expose him in front of everyone"

"He will know"

"Okay, but the people who knew you will know too" she paused "plus he sucks at hiding shit"

"That's on him, he sucks at media training" you laughed when remembered the many times he almost exposed your relationship with him just because his goofyness.

"Okay, I'm just warning you" she smiled and walked towards you "Have fun and break a leg" she hugged your body and let you go.

"Thank you, Somi" You smiled at her and moments later, she left.

[Later that day...]

'I met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring, he argued with me about everything.'

Your song started blasting on the huge speakers from the award show, the sound of the drums was making the people's chest even vibrate a bit

'He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye, he said he's six foot two and I'm like dude... nice try.'

And there it was, the first direct lyrics against your ex lover, standing right in first row with his beloved members right beside him.

You weren't even trying to hide that you wanted to see his reactions over the lyrics, you kept an eye on his table from the first moment you got a foot on stage.

'But he was so much fun, and he had such weird friends, and he would take us out to parties and the night would never end. Another song, another club, another bar, another dance, and when he'd said something wrong, he'd just fly me to France.'

You knew his members knew about you, so there was no surprise to you when they laughed out loud with the 'weird friends'.

When the song reached the France line, in the screens from the place there were shown many pictures of you in the country... The ones that Hyunjin took for you in his own little camera. Yes, you'd save them for years if you needed to.

'So I miss him some nights when I'm feeling depressed, till I remember all the times he made a pass on my friend. Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it's up and down; If I had to choose... I would say right now...'

Long pause, just to have him on his tippy toes. Jeongin was literally grabbing him, waiting for the music to break and expecting the next lyrics.

'I want to get him back, wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad. Oh, I want to get him back, 'cause then, again, I really miss him and it makes me real sad'

Audience screaming and moving their hands in the air to the rhythm of the music, and a 'I can't believe it' kind of expression in Hyunjin's face was everything that you needed to feel fulfilled.

'Oh, I want sweet revenge. I want him again. I want... To get him back, back, back'

You sang these lyrics while dancing along with Beomgyu, who was banging his head along with the music. You knew Hyunjin was going to be upset about it, you had a zillion discussions with your ex-lover about this guy, and that's why you did it.

'So I write him all these letters and I throw them in the trash cause I miss the way he kisses and the way he made me laugh'

You changed your lyrics while singing live 'the way he grabs my ass' while the backing track stayed true to the official line. Shocked everyone in the room, including your own friends in the building, who knew the real lyrics but didn't expect you to be explicit at this event.

'Yeah, I pour my little heart out, but as I'm hitting "Send"

I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends'

You pointed to those friends in question: Somi, Karina, Giselle, Yujin, Yunjin, and Chaewon between others, who screamed their lungs off from your action, hyping you up.

'Because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do

He said I was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth'

You side-eyed him and then did the same thing with Yeji, who looked fastly to the floor, hiding her face and then looking away.

Everyone in the industry knew you weren't one to mess with, and yet, those two did.

This was just the begging of a long plan you made up to get your sweet revenge to the one who broke your trust and heart and the one who went along with it.

'And when I told him how he hurt me, he'd tell me I was trippin'. But I am my father's daughter, so maybe I could fix him'

You flutterer your eyes to the camera at the end of the lyric and the chorus started again, you repeating your actions from before.

[...]

"What do you want?" You asked when you observed him through the mirror

"What was all that about?"

"A song I wrote, why?" You asked, not even bothering to turn around and engage the conversation

"I know you wrote it" he rolled his eyes

"Did it touch you deep inside?" You laughed, still eating some snacks

"You shouldn't have done that. The France pictures? Y/n, that was risky"

"Risky?" You turned back this time "Fuck off, Hyunjin. Fuck you, and Yeji. Oh wait, you've already done that"

"Why are you not taking your makeup off?" He ignored your comment "You always take your makeup off after performing"

"Because I've got a date and I like the makeup" you smiled

"Oh, do you? Who is it?"

"Why do you care?" You brought another snack to your lips

"Is it Beomgyu?"

"Why do you care so much who's dick I ride?" You frowned

"You had sex with him already?" His ears turned red

"It's none of your business. Keep your dick inside Yeji and don't bother me."

"We were wasted, I didn't mean to do it. You know it" the man stared at you trying to hide his emotions.

"I don't care! You hurt me, Hyunjin. I was the one to find you two having naked aftercare. AFTERCARE. You don't do aftercare with a one-time-accidental hook up." You sighted for a moment "I won't fucking cry and ruin my makeup. Leave. Now." Your eyes were already watery as you tried to stop the tears

"I won't." He stood his ground in front of you

"Leave, they're gonna pick me up any minute and I don't want you here to ruin it"

"No. Please forgive me, I didn't mean to hurt you." he took your hand and you pulled it away quickly

"Don't touch me. My trust in you is broken, there's no going back" you denied as you took a few steps away from him

"Please" his eyes were the ones that were watery now, you could tell he was being honest, but you couldn't forgive him after what he made you feel.

"Y/ninnie, time to gooo" A voice cooed from the door as you froze

"Chan Hyung?" Hyunjin turned himself faster than ever, as his eyes met his leaders

"Hyunjin? I... I didn't expect you here" the older one blinked a few times as you observed everything from behind Hyunjin's body

"Hyung... What are you doing here?"

You thought that getting him back was gonna make everything better, but hearing the hurt in his voice broke you even more.

"Mate, I can explain" His leader walked inside

Hyunjin didn't even say another word, he just walked past his member, looking back at both of you, and left the room as one tear rolled down his face.

You felt how your world crashed inside of you. Turns out that getting him back was not what you needed, and just hurt yourself even more.

[boasamishipper]

Ice peeked around the door to see Mischi bouncing up and down in her Pack n Play, clutching her teddy to her chest. Sadie sat on the bed, searching through her phone, and made a satisfied noise when she found what she was looking for. She angled her phone towards Mischi, who beamed and said, “The dreamy song!” “That’s right! Remember who sings this, Mischi?” “Unca Tom!” The burning feeling in Ice’s throat inched up into his nose and behind his eyes, intensifying when Sadie pressed play on the video. There was some static, and then there was the sound of his own voice, only the slightest rasp to it from overuse. “Which number is this, Chip?” “Seven-ayyyyy!” Mischi cheered, in unison with Sarah on the other side of the camera. “Okay, y’know what I mean, don’t get excited, man,” the Ice of 2014 said, doing his best Davy Jones impression. 2014!Sarah laughed. The Ice of 2019 fought to keep his breathing steady. “It’s ‘cause I’m short, I know.” Ice heard himself strum a few familiar chords, and then: “Oh, I could hide ‘neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings; the six o’clock alarm would never ring…” Midway through the next verse, Ice felt a hand at the small of his back. Somehow, he managed not to flinch and turned around slowly, meeting Maverick’s eyes. He wanted to explain, to say that he’d recorded hundreds of videos in the aftermath of his diagnosis—songs, stories, messages to friends and family—in case of the worst, but hadn’t touched them once since finding out he was cancer-free, not wanting to somehow jinx his luck. Not wanting the reminder of what he’d lost. But Maverick didn’t say a word. All he did was offer his hand, and Ice’s throat closed completely when he took it; let Maverick wrap his arms around him. And from the guest room, the sound of Ice’s voice rang clear and true: “Cheer up, sleepy Jean; oh, what can it mean to a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?”

a scene from the first chapter of my icemav fic bring back that lovin' feelin', drawn by the incredible @patbbangg ❤️❤️❤️

[helloiamadrawer]

𝚃𝙰𝙳𝙲 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 🎪

Warnings: none! just general/cute headcanons of the silly circus gang 🤸

Gangle can make some downright delicious matcha green tea, she has a set of cups and ofc tea bags in her room so when anyone in the circus is upset or stressed from a wacky adventure, she'd offer to make some for them. (Jax would probably be the only one to refuse but hey he's missing out)

All of the girls of the circus had a sleepover once (it was definitely Ragatha's idea :) ), and when it came to the most invigorating activity being a pillowfight, Zooble kind of hesitated.

"Yeah, I think I should opt out of this one you do know I hit hard Ragatha..right?"

"Oh come on Zoobs!" Ragatha cheered," If I can take a butcher knife to the head a thousand times you sure can't hit me harder than--oof!" a pillow ricocheted at her face, sending her bouncing around her room like a ball in a pinball machine (imagine the sound like the pinball makes while hitting the machine with the situation that is happening to Ragatha)

Finally coming back to solid ground, stars revolve around her head as she weaves from side to side as Zooble immediately ran to her followed by Pomni and Gangle to help the rag doll up and keep her steady. "I'm so sorry, I told you I hit too hard!" "Are you okay Ragatha?" Pomni asked cautiously, waving a hand in front of her face. "I'm good..no worries." she chuckled lightly, a wavered smile paved on her face from being clocked by a damn pillow. Rest assured, they never did pillowfights again because Zooble kicks too much ass lmaooo

Caine is a great singer AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE and here's how everyone knew: he left a door open one day leading to some sort of auditorium different than the one at the Tent, Pomni was the first to see the door, she hesitantly stepped into the other world.

An array of seats were swarmed through the area but no Npc's were in any of the seats but on stage there were a group of them singing a very flowing vocal number, it sounded nice and calming and then walking out in the middle of the stage was Caine, after their measure of singing was cut off by a motion of his hand, silence fell over until the chime of a triangle rang out and he started singing ♥️ his voice was remarkable (song below)

Pomni=flabbergasted and in awe that this a.i could sing so well, she could almost feel herself floating from the graceful power of his singing voice she HAD to tell everyone! she ran to everyone's room, spreading the word and by the time Caine finished performing, all the circus members applauded and cheered.

Ragatha and Gangle were crying a little cause it was so beautiful.

Caine was startled at first no one ever came to his singing performances but momentarily starts bowing in reciprocation of the wonderous appreciation for him.

Pomni has actually asked Caine if she could have a change of outfit, guess what the a.i does? JUST GUESS? Bro changes the color theme of her fit b r u h 😂

Jax and Bubble have kissed once but it was off camera

Zooble was so tired one day that the next morning Jax saw them sleeping in her own 'Zooble Box' full of their spare parts. The purple rabbit thought this would be a funny picture on the wall so he snapped one then getting slapped around by the grumpy assortment of parts after

Ragatha loves to bake. She could bake almost everything you could imagine. Her fav thing to make is pineapple upside down cake or peach cobbler 😋

Kinger collects fireflies in mason jars to have some light in his dark little pillowfort during the day and then the following night he sets them free into the night. he thinks of them as his tiny house guards 🥺🥺🥺

Whenever somebody is in emotional turmoil, instead of Ragatha being the one for emotional advice Pomni has learned to take her place sometimes since she has transformed Gummigoo into a more hopeful being after his traumatic realization of him being an npc 🥲

She's invented her own kind of comforting strat s since she has known now that her friends really care about her. You can say it kind of inspired her to be like Ragatha but in her own unique way 💟

Zooble listens to breakcore/vogue music because it helps them with being comfortable with their mix n' match parts and feeling whole. Sometimes feeling like a fem/them queen helps being in this hellhole of a digital realm 💅

Jax would say rizz and not know what it means, just only says it cause it sounds cool 🙄 bro is literally rizzing up ppl in the show (watch the pilot or ep 2 you'll see what i mean)

[l0ves1ckf0ol]

hear me out! nevermore has a musical they produce for the spring. they they so happen to do Chicago, the reader is velma kelly and xavier falls in love with the reader while he is helping with set for the show.

CAUGHT IN THE ACT | xavier thorpe

"you're breaking character, xavier. "

also a bit of a disclaimer i only heard abt the summary and i have no time to watch the whole musical but imma just go with my common knowledge i have for this. SO MOSTLY ITSBJUST THEM AND LESS CHICAGO IM SORRY SHSGS

"damn! only got ensemble, what about you y/n?" enid groans, you smirk at her "i got velma kelly." you say a toothy grin growin on your face. wednesday frowned at the conversation, "remind me again, why are you doing this?" she sighs out to you, almost looking disappointed. "i may be the child of the poltergeist and yes i love to hide but y'know i have to try out stuff once in a while." you reply to her, "also it's because of principal weems. she said that i had to do this or else i won't be sleeping in my own dorm, i set one on fire by accident." you add as enid laughed, "you never try out these things, y/n. why the change of heart? also you could've spent beekeeping with me and ottinger rather than be in that horrific display of singing." wednesday wonders curiously, did she see right through you? "just trying things out, wednesday." you breathed out to her, trying to play it cool looking ahead of her to a specific long haired boy who was busy on his sketchbook.

-

you've never heard of a theatre within the school, but it certainly exists. it's just that it needs cleaning up. you were there for rehearsals, since it was a saturday morning everyone was either in jericho or lazing away in their dorms. principal weems was unsure if you were going to stay put in the school grounds but you stayed behind, truthfully. you suddenly begin to despise being the lead for this musical, the pressure was getting to you and you start to worry if you're going to screw up.

"okay, let's go again, lights-" you announce as you start pacing the stage, "camera- paint?" you notice xavier coming up to the stage with a small bucket of what looked like maroon paint. "sorry for interrupting, please continue." he says politely, walking over to the lousy background of the stage, it had a sickening yellow color to it with loads of crusty paint slipping off the cement. "wouldn't you be at jericho by now?" you ask him as he dipped his wide brush in the paint and started painting from below to above.

"nope, weems asked me this morning to make a good background for the musical, it needs to be barely noticeable because they're using cardboard cutouts as scenes. she said black but for interrupting my coffee hours, i'll go with maroon instead." xavier answered, "could've gone with neon instead to infuriate her more, no?" you offer, wiggling your eyebrows. xavier laughed, "then i'll feel bad." he replies. "you have a soft heart for someone who looks like they ate a piece of lemon." you mentioned to him, he looks at you for the first time he walks in the room with a downturned smile, if that made sense.

"well- don't tell anyone about that. that right there is my biggest secret." he jokes, shaking his head left to right with a scoff. "alright, it'll be our official secret."

- xavier's pov (?) -

xavier never thought of you, or even acknowledged you that much but for some reason, after that conversation at the theatre you were basically unforgettable. he said hi to you in the hallways, everything seemed so monochrome but when you walked in the same room as him? instant color. so whenever he was free, he would do at least something to see you. this had been going on for a good 2 weeks

a week before the final rehearsal, he brought wax because weems tasked him to wax the stage. as he was nearing the door your voice rang clearer and clearer. your beautiful voice. xavier sighs to himself, he was at a loss by now, he tried his best to sneak inside unnoticed but the poltergeist could spot a shadow moving a mile away. so you instantly stopped.

"xavier?"

"oh hey sorry, i came in here to uh... wax the stage." xavier mumbled timidly, finally getting up to his normal height. you frowned, "thought this school was rich enough for maintenance people." you told him, he was trying to find the answers, for a moment he thought you were about to catch him in the act. "or was this only an act of service to suck up to the principal?" he could almost sigh from relief, "um yeah, been failing ms. thornhill's class lately so." xavier lied, he was doing excellently in that subject. a firm "hm." said it all, you probably knew, you just didn't want to spoil the fun. while y/n was singing her lungs off, xavier was sure it had something to do with jazz, he wasn't familiar with the musical. he was pre occupied scrubbing the floors with wax, luckily he wasn't wearing his school uniform since it was after class hours, otherwise those sweet blue slacks were toast. you didn't leave until he finished, you had other plans, xavier was onto you. if you figured him out, xavier was dead to himself and his dignity, i mean he wasn't ashamed with liking you. you were amazing, he just wanted to be sure that he liked you. lies.

-

"you finished. now, walk me to my dorm will you?" you ask him as you picked up your things from one of the leather seats and went outside as he followed. xavier left the wax at the stage, he remembered to return it tomorrow. as you walked the only sounds both of you could hear were your steps against the cobblestone floor, this only happend for 3 minutes. "so uh-"

"do you like me, xavier?" xavier wanted the ground to swallow him up right now. he stops in his footsteps and you turned from your heel, with a raised eyebrow. testing him. for a moment xavier almost breaks but he endured "do i like you is the question, what do you think?" he said, now you were testing each other. "i think you have had a little crush on me, ever since you painted the maroon background at the theatre. i know the maintenance people here, and i know that weems would never leave out an assignment for them, especially since it's this heck of a theatre that has not been used for a decade." you point out to him, with a devious smirk on your face.

xavier tugged at his jacket and approached one step forward toward you, "we both know you're a lazy poltergeist, l/n. why do you have extra rehearsals every after rehearsal- alone in the theatre?" you scoffed at his accusation, placing a hand on his chest, leaning in slightly, this made xavier's stomach do a flip and made his knees weak. "since we both are onto each other, you and i know the answer." you whispered as you lean back with a teasing side smile, xavier sighs out through his nose, his cheeks could match the theatre background, a sign that he gave up. his slim hands went up to your cheeks, his thumb caressing it. his lips were practically brushing against yours now,

"may i kiss you?"

"you're breaking character, xavier." you smiled, pressing your lips on to his, giving him an answer.

[ghostieyanyan]

I have fun headcanons for a shy, kind MC who secretly hides the fact that they’re a musician and they write their own songs. Maybe they were in a rock band in their original world. Maybe the MC wrote a live song for the Yandere of your choice and they overheard them singing it alone. I was thinking maybe Malleus or Idia personally but it’s up to you

im gonna talk about both so yes!

~Musical!mc~

Yan!Idia x mc

Yan!Malleus x mc

Warning: slight hints of NSFW, yandere, stalking, mention of death

~~~~~

Idia

he'll totally find out with his hidden cameras.

He would be playing a game and hears music, but not from his game? takes off his headphones and looks for what's playing music? Like we haven't done that before.. pff- He finds that he accidentally left one of the camera sound on but he's not disappointed with what he finds.

there you are, singing your heart out, with notebook and instrument in hand. you looked heavenly. he felt like you were a siren that was calling for him.

he immediately snaps out of it and searches something up... you kinda look like an idol from an anime he’s been obsessed with recently. i mean, you might have to clean up a bit and he very likely has all the things you need for your idol look. plus if he doesn't have it, it'll just buy it or make it for you. Its perfect!

you're perfect..

he just needs to have you, preserve you. kinda like one of his figures in his room.

but before he comes up with a plan, he wants to hear you sing more. he'll likely record your songs, your voice, hey, even your mistakes. he loves them so much.

bet, he has it as his ring tone for just him to hear.

depending on when this discovery happens, before or during chapter 6 is when he takes mc.

if its before, he'll probably wait and get as much information on you as he can. plus more recordings of your voice, you likely be scared when he has you in his hands. like a scared little bird, who's wings are getting clipped.. another reason to wait, your friends will notice when you are gone. overblot after overblot. you poor baby, that's why he has to preserve you, its dangerous out there. so many nasty person with there gross thoughts and slimy hands. you're one to talk...

if its during, then ya, he'll grab you. of course keep you away from these monsters but close to him. he'll likely keep you in a room alone for a bit to take care of those other students but whenever he has free time, hell stop by and visit. he'll show you all the recordings of your music and gives you your notebook and instrument because he doesn't want his personal idol to be so lonesome. sing your heart out like you do when you "think" you're alone. its the same here as it is when you're out there. you singing and him... listening.

it'll probably take a while for you to get use to him so he wont push you to wear the idol outfit but be warn when or if you do, he's not going to let you go. You might not be able to use your legs for a while.

~~~~~

Malleus

He'd very likely hear it at night on his strolls.

It'll be the dead of night, he'll be looking at the stars and moon shining brightly. then, with his fae ears, he hears a meloty. he told at first it were the other smaller fae in the woods by the Ramshackle dorm. but it was so enchanting that he couldn't help but walk to it. he felt like the sleeping princess to the spindle.

when he finally identify the voice, he was surprised to find the NRC's perfect.

they were looking at the stars with him and he just felt his heart strings pull but he didn't understand this feeling. whenever he’s confused and needed guidance, he'd turn to Lillia.

Lillia explained to him that maybe this small little human has enchanted him with a spell and he HAS to confront them to find out. Cause he'll totally play match maker. So he did.

the next day, he confronts you about it. he starts with telling you that you're voice is enchanting and you've put him under a spell that he cant undo. he asked what type of magic in your world that's so powerful that he cant understand. 

You’d likely laugh on how silly it was, you and a magic spell?

you explain to him that you didn't put a spell on him and that you were just working on your song since you weren't tired that night and you had time for yourself, which for the perfect its very rare to have some quiet time.

he understand, kinda but not really, and requested to hear more.

I'm going off that mc is stage fright shy so they polite say no. which didn't feel right to malleus. i feel like he’s a little spoiled and stubborn so say no to him of all people is weird. but that's okay, its not like you need to know he’s there listening anyway.

he’d likely find out when you practice your songs and makes a schedule. and when you don't follow that schedule, lets just say.. you didn't know it’ll be storming today??

this is also all before he finds out you’ll likely be leaving soon. no.. you cant leave. his song bird CANT leave. if such a thing happens well then, all of twisted wonderland will have to burn. and you don't want that right?

he’ll have you in a big cage, with a small window for light. the cage will be held high up and below you is bushes of bushes of thorns. they look very unpleased. but don't worry, even with the tiny window for light you’ll be surrounded with your favorite flowers and the comfiest bed you've ever seen. anything you need or want will be brought to you say long as you do one small thing for malleus. 

sing.

and if you don't want to? he’ll give you a reason why you cant use your voice...

~~~~~

[itsdappleagain]

48 for the spotify wrapped

48: My Dead Gay Son from Heathers the Musical

oh boy. this one might be a wild ride. highly recommend you listen to the whole song if you're unfamiliar.

here is a recording of the stage production with...erm...visuals and here is the cast recording with better audio!

They're up there disco dancing to the thump of angel wings! They grab a mate… And roller skate— While Judy Garland sings! They live a playful afterlife that's fancy-free and reckless! They swing upon the pearly gates— And wear a pearly necklace!

summary: jean paul and antonio fake their own deaths in order to escape the dangerous life VILE has put them on and must secretly watch their own "funeral" in order to make sure no one suspects they are still alive.

---

It starts with a note, slipped furtively into the hand of Carmen Sandiego in a fight both of them know is going too easily. Le Chevre holds her gaze and immediately makes good on his whispered promise to to leave right then and there without a fight, telling the Faculty she defeated him as always.

The note she opens says this:

Antonio and I need your help. We are defecting from VILE- we want to start a future together, but we don't have anywhere to go. We are afraid they will find us...you know what they would do if they found out. You are the only one to have ever left VILE and lived to see another day. Please help us. We know you don't have any reason to, so all we can do is beg. Antonio and Jean Paul

Carmen, of course, helps them. It is her nature. Together, secretly, the three begin to plan the deaths of Le Chevre and El Topo.

Tigress is the unwitting unlucky winner of the "who gets to witness their death" contest. Once everything is set in place and Antonio, Jean Paul, and Tigress are scheduled on the same mission again, Carmen makes arrangements for them and the plan goes into motion.

At 11:44pm Tigress sends the duo into their empty target building to scout it out. At 11:49 the building blows up in a ball of fire and ash and shrapnel, and Tigress must flee before the police arrive, streaked with soot and, against her will, crying.

She is the first one to see the news report that the police found the charred remains of two unidentified bodies in the wreckage of the building. She is the first to alert the faculty, and the one to begin arrangements for El Topo and Le Chevre's memorial.

Back in San Diego, Carmen sits with Antonio and Jean Paul, the air heavy as they watch the news report apparently announcing their own deaths.

"Tigress will be devastated." Antonio murmurs, eyes fixed on the circling overhead shot of the blackened building they'd snuck out of before Carmen had detonated the explosives. "She acts cold, but she will blame herself."

"It will make it all the more convincing." Carmen sighs, tracing her jaw with her fingers in contemplation. "If she knew..."

"Better that she does not." Jean Paul finishes, his hand squeezing Antonio's as they lean on one another. With Player messing with the police reports to make it seem as though their bodies had been found in the explosion, they are effectively invisible. Dead. Wiped off the map, and free to start their new lives together however they wanted.

Almost.

"I'm pulling up video and audio feed now." Player chimes from the base's speaker systems. "Good thing that I have the experience now to hack through VILE's 27 layers of encryption. Where did you set up those hidden cameras?"

"Where VILE always holds its memorials." Carmen says solemnly, her eyes just barely betraying a history of seeing more there than she cares now to admit. Her eyes flick to the two former operatives in her living room and they nod.

"The great hall. Last step," Jean Paul sighs, "see if they bought it."

The video feed flickers to life on their monitors- grainy and half-hidden where the two secretly set it up on VILE Island before their final mission. Everyone leans in, squinting as the fuzziness works itself out a little bit. The camera is hardly a centimeter in diameter, and, considering that, it is doing its best.

There, gathered in the grand hall, is a small crowd of operatives and the Faculty, gathered around the small table displaying their operative ID photos. Tigress, clearly wiping her eyes and trying not to show it, has just laid down a small bouquet by their photos.

Zack emerges from the kitchen and leans over the couch to where they're watching. Ivy hangs slightly behind, still suspicious of Antonio and Jean Paul. Zack whistles, oblivious to the tone in the room. "Too bad we can't have this camera on all the time. We shoulda got a man on the inside sooner!"

"Every minute that camera stays on in there is another minute it risks being discovered." Player explains briefly, his eyes still fixed on the feed on his own screen. "It'll self-destruct as soon as the ceremony is over, when I tell it to. We just need to confirm that El Topo and Le Chevre truly are dead to VILE and then we're out."

Zack hums noncommittally, attention drawn to the camera screen. Carmen's eyes are on the Faculty, watching for a sign of suspicion.

It's a second before Tigress's voice filters through their speakers. She stands at the front of the crowd, head bowed and fists clenched.

"Le Chevre and El Topo were part of my graduating class," she begins, a very un-Tigress-like hitch in her throat. "We spent the entire year training together and while- while we had our ups and downs they were some of my first friends here. There's something unbreakable about entering this life together. The two of them knew that better than anyone. I don't believe in any- any anything, really, but I hope that wherever they are now they're together, and-and that they're happy. You were some of the best, and I'm sorry that it wasn't me in that building instead of you. Rest well."

She finishes so quietly the camera's microphone almost doesn't pick it up, and she quickly wipes her eyes again and retreats back into the small crowd of operatives as they scatter some applause into the otherwise silent room.

When Carmen glances over at the two boys, they aren't making any effort to hide their own tears.

"Do you want to leave?" She asks quietly. "I can finish watching it. This might just get harder."

They both shake their heads. On the screen, Mime Bomb steps forward and mimes a flower, placing it on the table with little of his usual theatrics and retreats as well.

"They look convinced so far," Jean Paul says quietly.

Maelstrom is the first of the faculty to speak once the other operatives have finished paying their respects, and Team Red's base goes silent as he moves.

"While I don't want to spoil the evening-" he begins, and in unison Carmen, Jean Paul, Antonio, and Shadowsan (in the other room but listening in) mutter "here we go," all traces of mourning vanishing.

"-I think it must be acknowledged that El Topo and Le Chevre were two operatives whose passion was more often in each other than in their thieving work." Antonio and Jean Paul share a glance as the professor goes on with just the barest touch of disdain. "I would never stoop to say I celebrate their loss- we have lost two fine operatives in their deaths- but I must agree that I hope they are finding their lives after death more suited to the life they wished to live together."

"Cheers, Professor, we are." Antonio laughs wryly. Jean Paul isn't taking it as well, and his fists are clenched in his lap as he stares daggers at Maelstrom.

And then, suddenly-

"Now, you wait just a minute, Gunnar!"

The gasp in the VILE congregation is echoed across the world in San Diego as the group watches Dr. Bellum shoves her way forward, finger pointed directly at Maelstrom.

"You're skirting around your own prejudices, and I'm sick and tired of it. They were not dirty!" There's a glass of some drink in her hand, which seems to have given her a little courage. "They were not wrong!"

"I never said they were, Doctor, please-" Maelstrom hisses, bending with embarrassment towards his fellow faculty member. All five feet of her shoves him backwards and he stumbles, shocked.

"You have made your steady intolerance a part of our Academy's atmosphere for far too long, Gunnar!" Her voice climbs pitches like a roller coaster. "You're too afraid to say that those boys were-" she takes another sip of whatever she's drinking, "-gay as hell!"

"Doctor!" Maelstrom pleads, but Bellum is on a roll now, and the other two Faculty behind her seem to be finding this just as entertaining as Team Red is. Cleo, in particular, is red in the face and biting her lip in a way the three ex-operatives in the room have never seen before.

"Oh my God." Jean Paul stares in disbelief, all traces of anger gone as Antonio wheezes beside him. "This is going to be incredible."

"Those boys died as they lived- together! And I for one want to follow their example. I'd rather- rather live in happiness now than have to stay half hidden like they did here. Now they're up there- dancing to "disco" music and wearing beautiful necklaces like they never could have done while they were alive here!"

Maelstrom is melting into the floor as he tries and fails to do any sort of damage control, and before he can even open his mouth again, Bellum shouts, "We must carry on their legacy in VILE as we continue our work! It should never have taken their deaths to see it!"

With that, she turns, takes the hand of Countess Cleo, and sweeps her into the deepest, most passionate kiss the academy has ever seen. Antonio, in the middle of a sip of water, shoots it out of his nose.

"Shadowsan, get in here!" Carmen shrieks, cackling, as their room erupts into whoops and cheers. Shadowsan enters, sees what's happening, and has to leave again immediately to save face. In the periphery of their hidden camera, the chaos amongst the gathered operatives seems to be an even worse mixture of hilarity and horror. Tigress seems to have passed out cold onto the floor, and Cleo and Bellum are still going.

"Doctor! Countess!" They barely hear Maelstrom shriek over Brunt's roaring laughter. Zack, Ivy, and Player are in hysterics, which is a level more chill than whatever Carmen, Jean Paul, and Antonio are experiencing. Shadowsan isn't even in the room.

"If I got to witness my own funeral, I'm glad this is how it went," Antonio gasps in between howls of laughter as they watch Cleo and Bellum barely surface for air before they go back in, crashing into their memorial table and sending the two's pictures to the ground. Maelstrom has fled the great hall in a fit, and Brunt is literally crying. Someone gasps "disco!" in between laughs behind them. "Look at all the good our death did!"

"Our legacy will be felt around the academy for decades, mon amour!" Jean Paul wheezes in return, planting his own kiss on Antonio's lips. "I think we are in the clear!"

"What was in that drink, Saira?" Cleo gasps on the screen, voice husky, as they come up for air.

"It's plain Pepsi." Bellum responds, and the last thing they see before the camera self-destructs is the two Faculty members going in one more time as the Academy dissolves before their very eyes.

[jmdbjk]

Golden

Kookie had a runny nose. He said when he's just hanging out with nothing to do he's fine but as soon as things start ramping up and getting hectic, the cold that won't go away comes back. Jimin was on to something when he said he was concerned about Jungkook staying healthy with such a busy schedule.

As usual he has stayed true to himself and I admire that a person of his age can be so honest about himself.

He was trying to keep it real and said things to lower everyone's expectations: About writing songs, he said he can't really write songs. He said he just doesn't have it in him. He said when he tries it always ends up being about Army.

He wondered if it was because he was so simple. This is what makes me love him as just a human being: he says things about himself that WE might not agree with but that he feels about himself. He's just so honest and unpretentious, and he doesn't even try to be that, he just is himself.

He said he thinks he doesn't have the intellect and that he doesn't have anything to write about, and if he HAD things to write about, he couldn't say them prettily and that there are so many other talented creators that he would just fall short. He mentioned RM, Yoongi, Hobi... they are so talented.

It is understandable that Kookie, being last, he saw what the other members did, and truly, it had to be intimidating. He may never feel confident enough but I bet if he gives it a try he’ll do great.

All of what he said adds another nuance as to why he said “something amazing" is coming when he did that live back in March and Set Me Free Pt 2 was about to drop. He saw how hard Jimin worked through that process and the end result WAS amazing. Intimidating indeed.

Perhaps he still needs to live some life before he can have enough emotional baggage to pour out some lyrics (lol). Give it time, Kookie, life will throw some shit at you. Or maybe expressing whatever is inside of him will never come out in words to a song. And its ok. Not everyone is a songwriter or poet.

I can accept this album as "this is where he is in his life right now". He said they worked fast. That's a lot to accomplish in the amount of time from start to finish.

My thoughts on the songs...

The lyrics to several of these songs are a little ... meh..., sort of disconnected. THAT BEING SAID... I can see some lyrics that probably did resonate with him.

But I am not going to focus so much on the lyrics but more on JK's vocal work and think about how he was trying to sing and pronounce well. THAT is what he was trying to do. He said lyrics are lyrics and images are images... they are not meant to be autobiographical so the lyrics will be secondary to the vocal production for me.

Jungkook explained that the pronunciation was a challenge. The producers each had their own idea of how the lyrics should be delivered to achieve the color of the song. English not being JK's first language, he was coached on what to do in the studio. He said especially pronouncing the "EEE" sound was a challenge.

I recognize some sounds that seem trendy. Some of the songs remind me of other songs I've heard in the past by other artists.

Closer has that flute and Afro beat that reminds me of another song but I just can't remember it right now.

Standing Next to You is giving me Michael Jackson Rock With You from his Off the Wall album or Remember the Time off his Dangerous album. A rockin' groove... "... when it's deep like DNA..." and "leave your body golden like the sun and the moon..." yes, those lyrics definitely resonate.

Yes or No, I can definitely hear the Ed Sheeran throughout that song. A nice song about that first thrill of love. Ed Sheeran is a great song writer. I've always liked his work.

Please Don't Change would probably be the song that comes closest to expressing how Jungkook feels about his fans. Though his life has been spent on camera, things might change and if he's no longer on camera, he'll still be the same but he hopes we please don't change. This song also has the same little flute sound as Closer.

Hate You. This is the Shawn Mendes song. It is one of those angsty relationship songs that are popular now like what Olivia Rodrigo and her ilk does. If Jungkook had not gotten this song, I could see it easily going to a female artist. It's quite painful. Kookie does a great job expressing the tragic drama of it all with his vocals.

Somebody is where he really lets loose with his range. Its a sad song. Like many, his opening lines had me doing a double take. I don't think we've ever heard Jungkook sing in this tone before? Very nice.

Too Sad To Dance. This is the kind of song I think Jungkook could write. It is simple and straightforward. The song is cute and poignant at the same time. He was able to keep his tone simple to match the vibe, he didn’t try to make it over the top… I love this song especially the very last line: "...you don't need no one to dance..." Stand on your own and be yourself, just like Kookie is doing.

Shot Glass Full of Tears is the best song on the album. There, I said it. He really reached down and brought JUST enough edge into his voice to pull it off. I could actually get emotional over this song. I will repeat, this is the best song on the album.

Well done, Jungkook.

Overall, Kookie is relieved the pressure is off. Now he can get out there and do what he’s knows he can do and that’s performing

And then he said it again: BTS is the most important thing to him.

Kookie knew he had to do this album. And now he's done it and ready to move forward.

When he finally realized Tae had commented:

The panic over his house not being clean hahahahahah!

Because he wasn't sure what kind of chaos they were going to bring to his house, Kookie ended the live in a stress-clean panic.

My, what a turn of events... not long ago he was laying in bed naked causing mayhem trying to convince Jimin to let him come over and take a shower and now here they come to his house bringing trouble LMAO!

I hope they had a great evening together. I loved seeing Tae and Jimin out and about, it really hits a spot in my heart.

A little while ago, I picked up a copy of Golden at Target, I don't know which photo card is the Target exclusive but this is what I got:

It's a nice package with a hard cover photo book and a case it slides into. The stickers are nice. Jungkook was wearing an earring with the that motif so I suppose it will show up as merch on the Weverse shop soon.

Anyway, that's my review of Golden.

[btstulip]

Jimin being bullied in AYS?

I never expected to be writing about this, but I feel it's important to talk about. Bullying and toxic behavior is serious and I keep seeing it come up when people talk about Are You Sure?! episode 3 in Jeju.

Frequently when reading about people's reactions to AYS, I find myself wondering if we've watched the same show. Even though I know our own life experiences influence how we see the world, it's always amazing to me how different that perception can sometimes be.

I am not here to tell anyone they are wrong about Jungkook and Tae and it makes no difference to me if you like them or not. I am only hoping to give people the chance to look again from a different perspective and maybe ask themselves what kind of lens they may be viewing this episode (and maybe life) through.

It’s not my perspective I want to show you… it’s Jimin’s.

This is going to be a bit long, but I hope that you will read to the end and feel free to discuss or share your own perspective in a respectful way.

▶︎ Jimin feeling sick

Before getting into what Jungkook and Tae did that has upset people, we have to discuss Jimin feeling unwell. I want to start by pointing out that Jimin is in a good mood and his stomach does not seem to be slowing him down. Obviously he isn't 100% and he mentions feeling like he will vomit if he eats, but we see him drinking without issue and otherwise seeming fine. He's having fun at the restaurant and even chases Tae.

Let me repeat that, Jimin chases Tae down the street, abandoning his shoes! I am not saying Jimin doesn't feel sick, but he is obviously far from miserable.

The most popular theory is that Jimin has motion sickness from driving since he is known to get motion sick. I personally struggle with this theory since he is in such a good time in the car and not holding back puke the whole time. My personal theory is that Jimin is probably hungover, but obviously I could be wrong. Another reasonable guess would be that he is recovering from food poisoning or a stomach bug where he is feeling better, but still fragile. Either way, he seems okay for the most part.

▶︎ Bullying or playing?

I'm going to try to stick to the events in this section, but please keep reading because I have some things I want to point out in the next section.

It starts with the guys hanging out on the floor together having fun just being with each other. Tae and Jungkook start head banging while Jimin lays on the ground next to them. Jimin then sits up and says he feels sick. Then he tries to lay on Jungkook, but they both laugh when Jungkook stops him (while looking directly at the camera). At that point Tae spins Jimin around and wants Jimin to join them in head banging, but Jimin says he might throw up.

Jimin goes along with it anyway right up until his stomach revolts. At this point, Jimin pushes Tae's hand away and lays down. Tae laughs and Jimin smiles. Pretty sure he is feeling a bit like an old man.

Shortly later we see Jimin happily hanging out on the floor and singing when Jungkook decides to go swimming.

Then comes the water guns. Jimin is relaxing on the ground singing to himself when Jungkook runs up and sprays him and then runs off to ambush Tae. Jimin says he's exhausted at this point, but he doesn't seem upset, more like just stating facts and maybe explaining why he isn't joining them. There's lots more spraying by Jungkook, then Jimin goes back to singing while they reload and both come back for another round and soak Jimin. All the while they are spraying him, Jimin keeps laughing. Even when you can't pick out Jimin's individual laugh, (after 1 min mark in the video below) you can see his shoulders moving and at the end, you can clearly hear him laugh to himself, still entertained by the antics of these big kids.

Jimin changes into swim trunks and watches his friends play in the pool before sitting down and talking to us about how he is getting older and his body doesn't work the same anymore. He's obviously not feeling up to joining Tae and Jungkook in the pool, but he's smiling and moving around. And after talking to some birds, he decides to nap on the ground instead of going to lay down in bed.

Also, after a little nap and rest, Jimin starts running around with the water guns and then they all go to indoor rock climb and ride go-carts.

▶︎ Jimin isn't helpless. Period.

I have rewatched the footage over and over so I can look critically at the situation and three key things stand out to me:

Jimin isn't "that" sick. I am not trying to minimize how Jimin felt at all. He was obviously unwell and wanted to rest. However Jimin wasn't so sick that he couldn't get up and leave if he had wanted to. He had lots of chances to go lay down in bed and chose to stay over and over again. But we saw Jimin go all out chasing Tae earlier, and after a nap, Jimin is back to goofing around.

People need to respect Jimin and his choices. He isn't powerless. He knows how to set boundaries and chooses which boundaries to set, like pushing Tae's hand away when he feels like he might puke. Jimin is not being forced to stay downstairs, start round two with the water guns, go rock climbing, or ride go-carts. All of these were his choice and point to him feeling well enough and wanting to participate in the ways he chooses.

Jungkook and Tae are playing and laughing with Jimin. They are not trying to be mean to Jimin, they are including him in their fun. And we clearly see Jimin laughing and smiling in response. Even when he tells Tae to stop spraying him, he says it in a very soft, not assertive way and then continues to stay there and laugh when they keep spraying him. He isn't getting annoyed or frustrated. Jimin may not feel like getting up and running around with them (at least not in that moment because he does later), but he seems more entertained by their behavior than annoyed.

▶︎ Look again

When I watched the first and last time, I saw so much love and joy and I don't know how people missed it.

Love is never an excuse for putting up with someone who treats you badly. When people set boundaries, they should be respected. In order for me to see the behavior in this episode as anything other than harmless play, I would have to believe that Jungkook and Tae were intentionally being cruel, Jimin was upset by how he was being treated, and that Jimin wasn't capable of stopping the situation when ever he wanted. But I just can't find any evidence showing any of that. In fact, I see the opposite.

I’m going to focus only on what we see in this episode, but we have years of evidence that we are ignoring.

When Jimin is actually sleeping, we see both Tae and Jungkook check in on him and leave him to rest peacefully.

And later, when Jimin cut his lip, the panic and concern on both Tae and Jungkook's faces speaks volumes. Yes, it only takes a second for them to realize that Jimin is okay (that's how well they can read him) and return to smiling and being playful. But even when Tae breaks the tension with a fake punch, Jimin doesn't show even the slightest bit of annoyance. This is how they often play together and Jimin is okay with that in this moment.

Can I just point out for a second how funny I find it when Jungkook turns and tells the staff that Jimin got hurt like a little kid telling the teacher? 😂

This is their bond and we only get a glimpse of it. And we can’t forget the fact that Jungkook picked up and brought Jimin his shoes. If touching those things isn't an act of love, I don't know what is. LOL

I watched this episode over and over again and I didn't see Jimin being too sick and weak to set boundaries for himself. If Jimin had wanted Jungkook and Tae to leave him alone, I believe Jimin would have communicated that clearly and firmly and they would have listened. We have years of evidence that both Jungkook and Tae love and respect Jimin, to the point where people feel "shocked by this side of them they have never seen before". I think it's because "this side of them" doesn't exist and has been imagined by people that have forgotten that Jimin can set boundaries and make decisions for himself. I don't understand how people can ignore the evidence in order to see their play filled day together as something toxic and cruel.

Ultimately, it isn't up to us to decide if Jimin is being bullied, it's his. And if you look to him for signs he is upset with what is happening, there just isn't any evidence of that at all.

I say this from a place of love and without judgement... if you are more upset for Jimin than he is, then this may be less about Jimin and his relationships and more about how you feel in yours. If you saw something other than Jimin choosing to participate in his own way and having fun in spite of feeling under the weather, I suggest you spend some time reflecting on your ability to set boundaries for yourself. ❤️

[sunnyie-eve]

9 | Crashing

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none

| MASTERLIST |

~

Dani walks up to the triplets hotel room door knocking on it and Nick opens the door with a smile, "Good morning." He lets her in and she sees Chris and Matt were still asleep.

"Why did you tell me to come so early?" Dani asks as he takes her suitcase putting it aside since they said she could crash with them since Sam and Colby already left Austin and she was going to leave with the triplets.

"And let you wonder around since you already had to check out?" He gives her a look, "They should be getting up soon anyways."

The two sit in the bed watching tv till Matt wakes up, "Is Dani really here or am I seeing things?" He rubs his eyes.

"I'm really here. Been here for about almost on hour now." She looks back away him as she was at the end of the bed.

"What time is it?"

"Time to get the fuck up." Nick pulls the blanket off him.

"Like would they still have breakfast?" Matt asks so Dani looks at her watch and tells him yes so he gets up finding clothes to wear for the day before going to the bathroom to change.

"Guess he hungry." Nick gets up from the bed.

When Matt comes out of the bathroom he puts his shoes in and grabs his wallet and key to the room. "Nick, what are you doing?" Dani watches him record Chris asleep walking over to him.

"Dani, last minute breakfast. Come on." Matt whines for her at the door.

"I gotta put on my shoes dude." She walks over to them as Nick tries to wake Chris up asking if he wanted a drink of lemonade, "That's so rude." Dani slowly walks over to the door.

Matt gets annoyed and grabs Dani by the arm, "I'm hungry."

"Okay Matt!"

Going down to the lobby Matt asks if she wanted to go to the diner but it wasn't open, "That's fucked."

"Let's check the self serve breakfast." Matt turns away from the diner.

"Woohoo, I don't have to buy then." Dani celebrates as they walk and eat whatever they had in there that looked fine to eat.

After they eat and go back up to the room Chris was up and slowly get ready to head out for the day, "Oh, hello Dani." He gives her a tired smile.

"Morning Chris."

While they go out for the day the guys wanted to stop at a store they have been to in the past in their tour to get more clothe.

"Are you not going to get anything?" Nick asks Dani but she was in her own world dancing and singing a song in her head.

"OH!" She sees him looking at her, "Umm, I have too many." She tells him.

"You can never have too many." Chris tells her.

"Let me show you my closet."

"I've seen it on facetime so trust her." Nick tells his brother, "It's ridiculous and she still couldn't find an outfit for her date."

"Oh Nick, thoughts?" She fines a cute shirt and he agrees with her.

"That looks like it fits a toddler." Matt laughs looking at it as he takes the camera now.

"I'm a size of one." Dani giggles.

"You're like 3ft." Chris jokes with her.

"4'11!" She rolls her eyes walking off.

The day kinda flys by and soon it was night and they were going out to eat again. "We're about to eat nice Austin Tx pizza." Chris rubs his hands together cold.

"And she's paying for Matt still." Nick turns to film Dani walking down the sidewalk so she smiles, "We're eating pizza because we've had barbecue twice." Nick explains to the camera.

"I regret not doing anything alone because Matt gets free food." Chris huffs.

"Too late." Matt laughs at him.

"Maybe next time, who knows." Dani tells Chris before they go inside to eat.

While the boys sit at a table, Dani goes to the bathroom to clean up to eat. As she was leaving the bathroom her phone rang and it was Colby.

"Hey hey." She answers him.

"You're still in Texas? You didn't get a flight back home today or to LA to stay with Hallie for a while?"

"I don't know which place I wanted to go yet. But I got a flight for home tomorrow." She lets him know.

"So you're just wondering Austin Texas alone right now?"

"No, I'm with the triplets. We're at a restaurant right now." She lets him know.

"How did you find a hotel last minute?"

"I didn't. Nick is letting me crash with them in their room tonight. And before you lose your shit because I know how you are... I'll be fine. And I'm sure I'll share with Nick since we're friends." She huffs leaning against the wall as she explains to him.

"I'll see you when you get home. Love you." He hangs up so she goes over to the boys.

"I love meatballs." Chris eats his.

"I'm gonna rank this meatball. How I'd rank my children one day." Matt jokes getting his to eat.

Chris and Dani both make a face at that, "Bro is ranking his kids."

While they eat Nick had to get up to use the bathroom so he gives Dani the camera to film them eating, "Your rate?" Dani asks Chris.

"10/10 ball"

"10/10 ball, Matt?" Dani slides over in front of him, "What do you rate them?" She asks as he chews his, "Matty?" She leans on the table to move the camera super close to his face.

"An eight. I'd say 8 out of 10." he gives an answer as Chris takes the camera from Dani to film her.

"What do you say Dani?"

"They're alright." She nods her head eating hers as Nick comes back to the table.

"This is feeling like how grandma's balls felt." Nick says and the three laugh.

"10 is insane." Matt tells Chris.

"You're insane." Chris says so Matt stares at him.

"It's like a seven." Nick gives his rate.

"I pick a middle between 7 and 8 but definitely not a 10." Dani goes more into detail about a rate.

When their pizza gets to the table Dani smiled at it since it looked good, "I like the thin cut." Chris picks up a slice, "Ooh super..."

"That's not good." Matt looks at it.

"It's okay." Dani eats a slice, "I'm a pizza person after burgers." She tells them.

"Honesty..." Matt chews his bit looking at the slice.

"I'll tell ya, I'm enjoying this."

"Honesty, worst flop I've ever seen." Matt finishes his sentence, "I'm being honest."

"Harsh review." Chris keeps eating.

"Matt, shush and eat it because I'm paying." Dani tells him as she eats.

"The meatballs were good."

"I'll take the meatballs over it any day this is a 6.5." Chris says his take on the pizza.

Matt shakes his head no, "Five."

"I'll give it a 6. I've had better before." Dani says picking up her Dr. Pepper.

"I feel like..." Matt looks at the wall with the people.

"What you keep pointing at them for?" Chris asks making Dani laugh.

"Too much. They had something to do with this pizza." Matt says and that makes Dani laugh more.

After their dessert Dani lays down since Nick got up to use the restroom the same time as Matt had to go before the leave. Chris takes the camera off the table and records Dani laying down on the other side.

He leans over to see her under the table, "She's full. She's ready to leave." He laughs at her starring off into space till she looks over at him.

"Really Chris?" He just laughs at her so she covers her face, "Stop." She whines tired from being out all day.

Once they get back to the hotel, they guys fight over sleeping arrangements because Chris didn't want to share a bed with Matt.

"Every time we share a bed he steals the blanket." Chris points at him.

"Well you two have to because Dani is sharing the bed with me because we're friends and she hardly knows you two. Do you really want to make her feel uncomfortable?" Nick tries to get it settled.

"Honestly, I don't mind. I tired and as soon as my head hits the pillow, I'll be out." Dani says walking to the bathroom, "Now you two can fight about who shares with who."

Both Matt and Chris look at each other and before they could start to argue about who will share a bed with her out of the two of them, Nick points at Matt, "You'll share with Dani. Chris you're with me so they get the bed you had alone."

"Just curious why Matt?" Chris asks plopping down on the bed.

"Because the other day she spent more time alone with Matt, only cause the elevator stopped working, so she knows him the best second." Nick explains his reason. "You're sharing a bed with Matt." He lets Dani know as she walks out of the bathroom.

"Okay."

The whole night, Matt tries to make sure to stay far on his side of the bed and keep his back towards her so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable. And honestly Dani wouldn't have care if he got closer because she was freezing all night. Since he was so focused on stay far on his side of the bed, he accidentally hogged most of the blanket.

In the morning the other two wake up first and watch tv  till they hear the other two waking because of the tv and part of it was Nick messing with the blinds for Chris.

"Just shut the blinds." Chris films Nick so he closes them but the other three tell him it's too dark. Nick opens it halfway before stepping aside, "Are you gonna talk dude?" Chris asks him.

"I didn't know you were recording motherfucker. You've been complaining about the light." Nick snaps at him.

"Y'all make me wish I got my own room." Dani groans, "But no, just crash in ours." She rolls over putting the pillow over her head.

"Matt did you hog all the blankets from Dani this time?" Chris films the bed to show hoe Matt had all the blanket.

"I didn't meant to." He says as Dani gets up going to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

"Alright guys, we are wrapping up our trip in Texas." Nick says moisturizing his face, "And yes, Dani slept here. We told her she could since she had no where to sleep."

"Because my brother sucks." She jokes coming out of the bathroom.

"And we are headed to the airport in about an hour. We're gonna eat at one more place."

"Hey, Bite-size." Chris turns to film Dani sitting on the bed as Matt went to get dressed.

"Hey, that's actually a cute nickname for you." Nick looks over at her.

"I've been called nugget,"

"What's the worst nickname you've been called for your height?" Nick asks her.

"Fuckin Wee One," She says as Matt comes out and makes a face.

"Yeah, that's eww. Who would even think of that?" Nick makes a face as well so she said an ex called her that.

"What did he say it in a baby voice to?" Chris asks disgusted.

"Yep," She lays across the bed making Matt give her a look.

"Will you move?"

"Nope, there's a whole bed over there." She point at it.

"Get up Tarter-Tot," He grabs her by the legs pulling her towards the edge causing her to yell.

[britcision]

I have not slept more than 5 hours together this whole fucking week and not more than 7 hours a day

It is therefore appropriate today to give you TIM! And TUCKER! All aboard the Lore Drop!

Chapter 14’s nearly fucking done I swear I was waylaid but I think I have solved the problem. Now the new second secret much bigger problem is my intense desire to commit Dragon Age crimes

Soooo chapters will probably stay a lil slower here for a bit, but hopefully not this slow again until June, when I will be Busy As Shit

————-

A Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence V

It was a weird feeling to have his body shaken while his consciousness was so far from it.

Feeling his face pull into a frown not quite mirroring what he felt it should be. Tucker could never have explained precisely what part of him entered his devices; just that it was him.

Quintessential, pure essence of Too Fine. Everything he was without the meat he was born in.

But then he did have to slot back into that meat, and trying to do that without matching positions always left him feeling weirdly off kilter the next day. Like he’d put on a shirt but the shoulders were skewed too short.

So despite not being conscious of a face on his extended form, Tucker tried to form it into a frown anyway, sliding back under his own skin like a teen sneaking back through a window after curfew.

Hadn’t those been heady days?

Eyes slowly opening, it took Tucker a moment to remember how to focus them. That they weren’t cameras. But then Tim Drake-Wayne came into focus, and the frown changed to a grin even before he fully “woke up”.

“Morning,” he mumbled, rolling and stretching, getting used to the feeling of a body again. It was a little weirder each time, which he might have worried about if he didn’t see himself as an extension of his PDA anyway.

“You were singing in your sleep,” Tim told him without preamble, returning the smile.

Tucker hesitated for a moment, suddenly embarrassed. If… well. If he’d been singing along, that…

Look he’d picked songs that’d embarrass Danny, he wasn’t gonna give a fuck about it. The only actual question was, did he tell Tim?

Who else would ever understand better just what it meant to interact with tech the way he could? Could get excited with him about how cool it was?

He wasn’t fucking gushing to Technus. No way. Tuck was easily the one winning that ongoing hackathon, but it was the principle of the thing.

To the zone with it. Tim knew about Amity Park, he knew about the ghosts and the liminal tech. And while they hadn’t exactly discussed liminal people, it’d come up.

Tim could have a sneak preview. As a treat.

Decision made, Tucker gave the younger man another broad smile because yeah, bragging about your super powers to a very cool and impressive person? That felt good.

Tim might be a vigilante too, but Tucker was pretty sure Jason was the only souped up Robin. Most of the bats were famously power free.

“Oh, yeah. I was bullying Danny,” he explained with a light chuckle, glancing up to find his beloved PDA, Ida. She was half under a blanket now, so he tugged her back out.

Tim chuckled softly, leaning back and stretching himself.

“Good dream?” He asked and Tucker snickered, stroking gently across the screen.

“Danny wishes it was a dream.” Tucker paused, frowning a little at the confusion on Tim’s face. “So you remember we kinda talked about the whole liminal thing?”

That seemed to jog Tim’s memory, confusion fading into an analytical frown that Tucker was already becoming familiar with. That good ol’ geek face.

“The humans with budding ghost powers,” he agreed, and Tucker had to wonder if maybe he just hadn’t put the right pieces together yet.

He hadn’t exactly said that most of Amity Park were liminal, but it was a little hard to remember he had to. Like, they lived on a portal to Hell.

Maybe he shoulda.

Well, at least it was a cool way to introduce it to him.

Tucker pulled Ida into his lap, flipped her over, and tapped the plain plastic backing to demonstrate.

“Mine’s a low level technopathy at the moment,” he explained as the PDA hummed and then began playing… well, still Montero, so he flicked it again and changed it immediately to Country Roads.

Tim was watching him with a kind of hungry fascination, and Tucker turned the music off with a thought, then passed her to Tim so he could check for secret touchpads.

“It’s not something I can do with anything,” he explained with a modest shrug, grinning with pride as Tim immediately got to scanning the casing.

All simple plastic, not even biometrics; what would be the point? Even touching the PDA was pretty much a formality at this point. She was a part of him.

“Technopathy? So you can control it with your mind? Why not with anything?” Tim asked eagerly, hands stroking over the plastic, eyes darting between it and Tucker.

Like he wasn’t sure which was more interesting, Tuck or tech, and Tucker absolutely took that as a compliment.

“It has to be a device I’ve really gotten into. Like, down to the source code, or something I’ve cracked before a couple times, and then I can just feel how all of it works.”

Tucker wiggled his fingers demonstratively and the PDA beeped to life under Tim’s hands, making the other man gasp. And yeah, totally envy in those cute blue eyes he turned all balefully on Tucker.

“How many of the functions can you use? Anything the PDA can do, or…” Tim trailed off, clearly thinking of everything he’d already seen the PDA do.

The real question would have been what couldn’t Ida do. And honestly? Yeah, Tucker remembered the trial phase.

He gave another shrug.

“Technically? Yeah, anything it can do, but I still prefer hacking the old fashioned way. Most of the network stuff too, cuz I’m only really “in” the PDA. Or Danny or Sam’s phones.”

Tucker hesitated, wondering how best to really explain the difference. Danny had never been any good at it, Tucker’d had no idea what he was talking about from the video game thing right up until he’d been sucked in himself.

Which… was probably gonna be a next-hangout adventure for Tim and the bats. And Oracle, if he could swing it.

For now he gave up, giving Tim a hopeless grin.

“Honestly it’s something you’ve really gotta feel for yourself. Danny’s great at the transition from real world to code, but he always just punches things, y’know? Turns out knowing how code is actually supposed to work doesn’t translate well to being part of it,” he added with a sigh.

Because frankly? It was bullshit unfair. Tucker could code an entire other galaxy around Danny with his eyes closed, but put them in the same metaphysical layer as a firewall and Danny could just.

Punch it.

Which, theme for the week, was also not how firewalls fucking worked. At some point Tuck figured he’d either gain a new level of understanding through liminality, or give up and ask Technus a couple questions.

Technus was currently Tucker’s subject instead of Danny’s anyway. They’d made a bet.

Which meant Technus shoulda told him about their shenanigans in time, which was probably what Tucker would hold over his head for the whole firewall thing.

It was so nice when things just worked themselves out.

Tim looked a little disappointed, but mostly still intrigued. Tucker could see his fingers just itching for his own tablet to take notes.

“Do you think that’ll change?” He asked, blurting it out like he couldn’t hold back now that Tucker stopped talking, “I mean, if you become more liminal? Or just practice your abilities more?”

And see, this was what Tucker loved about Tim Drake-Wayne. They were on the same wavelength. He grinned back.

“Probably. But I mean, it’s kinda cheating too. For now I kinda like that I have to do things the way I always used to first, before any ghostly powers kick in. It’s more me, y’know?” And like hell he’d let anyone think his code skills were just some meta ability.

He’d worked damn hard for those skills, and he was damn good. One of the best, and he was also good enough to know he still wasn’t actually top of the charts.

That was the Oracle, although knowing they still hadn’t cracked his servers felt really good.

Tim was all but vibrating, clearly full of questions, but they were both interrupted by a loud growl from Tucker’s stomach. Immediately echoed by Tim’s, so at least he wasn’t alone.

The two shared sheepish grins, and then Tucker stretched.

“So, breakfast and then Twenty Questions?” He offered cheerfully, and Tim nodded at once, thrusting the PDA back and rolling off the frankly massive bed.

——————

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