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estrellami-1 · 11 months ago

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Quite Miss Home

Had an idea. Wrote 2.3k words in a couple of hours. Pure fluff based on the James Arthur song. ❤️

“Helloooooo, Chicago!” Eddie yells into the mic, reveling in the roar he gets back from the audience.

It’s been ten years since it all; since the end of the world as he knew it and the beginning of something so much better. Corroded Coffin had taken off quickly, after the “earthquakes;” something about rising from the ashes like a phoenix, if Eddie had to guess, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, just enjoy what he’s given, and damn is he enjoying it.

“How are you?” He asks, grinning when the audience cheers again. “Alright, alright. Man, I’ll tell you, it’s fuckin’ awesome being here. But can I tell you a secret?” The audience roars again, and he grins as he takes his guitar off, hoisting it up. “Who’s this?”

“Sweetheart!” The crowd yells back.

“That’s right!” He quietly thanks the stagehand who darts up to grab it from him. “But it’s not my only sweetheart. In fact, my real sweetheart is at home. And this tour is so awesome, but I’m kinda starting to miss my sweetheart.”

“Aww,” the crowd says, and he grins softly at them.

“I know,” he says. “This next song is for my sweetheart. They’re at home because they get migraines, and tours aren’t very conducive to not getting migraines, so we both decided it would be better if they stayed home. So this next song isn’t Corroded Coffin’s normal sound. In fact-” he gestures at the stage behind him- “if you’ll notice, the rest of the boys aren’t up here anymore. This is an Eddie Munson original, and I want to thank them, from the bottom of my heart, for letting me be the dramatic sap I am, and letting me sing this song, on national television, for my sweetheart.” The stagehand comes up again, this time with an acoustic, and again Eddie thanks him. “So, sweetheart,” he says, facing the cameras, “this one’s for you.”

“I'm in the kitchen while you smoke outside. You're careful not to let the smoke inside. I always tell you it's poison, but I know it helps you take the edge off the day.”

Eddie knows exactly where Steve’s gonna be when he gets home from where he works part-time as a bartender. In through the front door, dropping his keys on the kitchen counter, straight through to the porch where Steve’s smoking.

“Y’know those things are poison,” he jokes, stealing it straight from Steve’s mouth and taking a drag before giving it back to him.

“I never want kids,” Steve says in answer. He’s a kindergarten teacher, so he comes home in one of two moods: he has the worst baby fever, or he never wants to see another child again.

“Yeah? What happened today?” Eddie asks, settling in close. He’s hungry, and was vaguely considering a stir fry, but instead he tucks in close as Steve takes another drag, preparing himself.

“Okay, so get this.”

“We get a drink before it's closing time, the one on High Street with the blinking sign. All these memories feel poignant. I won't be there to see the snow melt away.”

“Hey,” Eddie says, seeing someone settle at the bar in his periphery. “What can I get you?”

Then he actually turns to face the person, and-

Oh.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” Steve grins, leaning over the counter. “And maybe… something else? A little later?”

A thrill of heat rushes through Eddie, but he rolls his eyes with a grin and pushes Steve back by a palm to his forehead. “Keep it in your pants,” he admonishes, “I’m on the clock for the next four hours. Someone didn’t tell me they were gonna drop in, and I took my break twenty minutes ago.”

Steve hums. “Y’know, a dull knife could be very dangerous,” he says. “I certainly hope the one you’re using to cut limes is sharp.”

Oh.

Eddie grins, always on board, and leans over the counter. “Steve Harrington,” he purrs, delighting in the flush racing up his cheeks and down his neck. “What exactly are you insinuating?”

Steve sits there for a beat, drains his whiskey, and hops off the stool with a dangerous smirk. “Careful on your way out. It started snowing.”

“Oh, yeah, I been gone on business. I gotta make some money. I really feel the distance.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” Steve murmurs, clinging to Eddie like a koala. They’re still in bed, and Eddie doesn’t have to leave for another five hours. He’s gonna spend all the time he can in bed with Steve.

“I know, baby,” Eddie whispers back. “Tours are so long.”

“A month,” Steve agrees. “And then another three, after Indy.”

“But just think,” Eddie murmurs. “You’re still working, right? And those kids love you, and no matter what you say, I know you love them. And this tour is gonna be really good for us. We could get Wayne into a house, and help Hop with his payments-”

“He won’t accept the help.”

“No, but Joyce will,” Eddie grins. Steve laughs softly into his chest, then sighs and kisses a tattoo.

“I just wish I could be with you. I wish my head worked right.”

“Baby,” Eddie says firmly, “I love you. Regardless of if you can or can’t come with me. If you’re gonna be miserable the entire time—and we both know you would be, don’t even try to deny it—I’d be miserable, too.”

“I know,” Steve sighs.

“But hey. We’ve got time right now. And I’m not letting you move from this very spot until I’m gonna be late.”

Steve chuckles. “I’ll drag you out myself, Eds, much as I don’t want it I know you need to go.”

“I know,” Eddie says softly, turning so they’re both on their sides, facing each other. “But I don’t have to go right now. And I’m gonna spend as much time as I can right now with you.”

“I know.”

“No, baby,” Eddie says, eyes wide, “you don’t get it. I won’t even let you pee alone today.”

“So just like normal, then,” Steve grins.

Eddie squawks.

“And I quite miss home. And I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor, and the dirt drives you crazy. Yeah, I quite miss home, 'cause it feels like poetry. When the rain falls down on the window while you're in my arms, and we're watching the TV. Yeah, I quite miss home. Yeah, I quite miss home.”

“Hey, Eds,” Steve calls as soon as Eddie steps foot inside. “Shoes off at the door, I just swept and I swear to God, if you track dirt into the house-”

Eddie chuckles, toeing his shoes off before walking further into the house. “I know, baby, it wreaks havoc on your bare feet to feel it. I get a free pass from that ‘cause I wear socks like a normal person.”

“Literally when have you ever been normal,” Steve says, “that’s not normal, you and your fuckin’ ice cube toes in the middle of the goddamn night on my calves-”

Eddie snickers. “‘S not my fault you’re a furnace, babe.”

“I will maintain that it is your fault until we can prove otherwise, actually.”

Eddie is in love with this man. “What the fuck does that mean?” He asks, laughing, wandering down the hallway and into their room, where Steve’s folding laundry. “Fuck, I love you.”

Steve grins and accepts a kiss. “I love you too.”

“I smell you cooking from the living room, and then I tell you that I love your food. I know it doesn't come easy, but you know it reminds me where I'm from.”

“Baby,” Eddie groans when he walks in. “Are you making the pork?”

“I’m trying,” Steve grumbles, frowning at the pan. “‘S not working. It’s not getting crispy like it should.”

Eddie walks closer, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and nuzzling the side of his head. “Looks amazing,” he murmurs. “And smells even better.”

Steve sighs. “I just wish it was easier for me.”

“You don’t have to do this, baby.”

“But I know you love it.”

“I mean, yeah. But I love anything you cook, Steve. Or anything you call in. It’s the effort, y’know? Even when you don’t have the energy for anything but calling in pizza.”

Steve smiles. “You’re a sap, y’know that?”

Eddie chuckles, kissing Steve’s neck. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been down bad for you for a while, baby.”

“Yeah?” Steve tilts his head to allow Eddie better access. “How long?”

Eddie hums, moving down Steve’s neck, worrying his collarbone. “Probably since the demobat, Big Boy.”

Steve moans as Eddie sucks a mark high on his neck, just beneath his ear. “Yeah?” He asks, high and breathy.

Eddie turns the heat off. “Yeah.” A little bite to Steve’s earlobe as his hand creeps around to the front of Steve’s jeans. “Lemme show you?”

Steve pants. “Dinner-”

“Can wait,” Eddie growls. “I want you tonight, baby.”

“Whoa, I'm in another city. I got nobody with me. And it just really hit me.”

“Hey, baby,” someone croons. Eddie thinks he recognizes her from the last stop on the tour.

“Um… hi?”

She giggles. “So coy. You don’t have to play like that with me, baby.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “I’m not your baby.”

“Well, no,” she admits. “But you could be. Or I could be yours, if you’re more into being a Daddy.” She runs teasing fingers up Eddie’s arm.

He jerks his arm away. “Look, I’m sure you’re nice and all, but I’m really not looking-”

“Not yet you’re not,” she says.

“I don’t even know what that means- look, lady, I don’t want anything, okay?”

“Oh, come on, now-”

“I said no,” he says, harsher than he maybe should have, for the way she steps backs in shock. “Please leave,” he continues, gentler. “Or I’ll call security. And I don’t want to have to do that.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “You could’ve had a great lay.”

“I have a great lay,” he shoots back. “And I’m not willing to sacrifice it for a meaningless one-night-stand.” He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sure you’re a great lady. But I’ve got my other half at home.”

“Your other half?” Steve interrupts over the phone, delight evident in his voice. “Christ, Eds, you’re a sap, I miss you so fuckin’ much.”

“I know, baby, I miss you too, now I was in the middle of a story.”

“That I quite miss home, and I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor, and the dirt drives you crazy. Yeah, I quite miss home, 'cause it feels like poetry when the rain falls down on the window, while you're in my arms, and we're watching the TV.”

“Baby,” Eddie yells inside, “It’s raining lynxes and wolves!”

Steve laughs from the laundry room. “Why can’t you just say cats and dogs?”

“Because,” he stresses, “it’s not. It’s raining so hard, babe, it’s perfect couch-cuddling weather, can we watch a movie? Please?”

Steve smiles. “Dinner’s in the oven keeping warm. Labyrinth is in the player already.”

Eddie stills, staring at Steve, for a solid thirty seconds. “Fuck, I love you,” he murmurs. Steve grins and steals a kiss.

“Go get the food,” he says. “I’ll be there in just a minute, just gotta finishing moving this stuff from the washer to the dryer.”

He does, and Steve does, and soon the dirty dishes are abandoned on the coffee table and their feet are tucked up on the couch. Steve’s leaning on Eddie and Eddie’s hand is under his shirt, not for anything suggestive, simply just to feel.

He kisses Steve’s head with a content sigh, and Steve tilts his head back to look at him. “What’s up?”

“Y’know this is one of the things I miss the most when I’m touring?”

Steve smiles. “Just sitting watching a movie?”

“Well, anything with you, actually. But yeah. No expectations, just the movie, and the rain, and just. Us.”

Steve smiles and kisses his jaw. “This is one of the things I miss most when you’re on tour, too.”

“Yeah, I quite miss home. Yeah, I quite miss home. And I quite miss home. Yeah, I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor and the dirt drives you crazy. Oh, I just miss home, no, no, 'cause it feels like poetry, as the rain falls down on the window while you're in my arms and we're watching the TV. Oh, I miss home, yeah, I quite miss home, no. Oh, I quite miss home. Yeah, yeah, I quite miss home.”

The last strum reverberates through the silent auditorium. Then, an anguished groan. “What the fuck, why are you perfect?”

Eddie laughs along with the rest of the crowd. “That’s quite the compliment, but no, my sweetheart will be the first to tell you I’m anything but perfect.”

Three and a half weeks later, Steve slams into him as he’s walking into the house. “Oh,” he says, delighted. “Hi, baby.”

“Fuck you,” Steve says, “fuck you and your song, I swear to God, Eds-” he tugs on Eddie’s shirt, pulling him away from the door, and Eddie chuckles.

“Baby, my shoes, the floors-”

“Fuck your shoes,” Steve growls. “Fuck the floors. If I’m not naked in bed in the next thirty seconds-”

Eddie grins and picks him up. “Say no more,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear, taking purposeful strides toward the bedroom.

As he kicks the door shut, he has one thought: This is my favorite part of coming home.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @inadequatecowboy @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Also tagging @finntheehumaneater and @gloomysoup because I figure you might like it ❤️

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #rock star Eddie #bartender Eddie #kindergarten teacher Steve #domestic fluff #quite miss home #James Arthur #song fic #starambles

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lowkeychenle · 1 year ago

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the 1 [NJM] (M)

Description: Six years ago, you decided to move away to a different country to go to school. The catch? You had to leave Jaemin behind, and you refused to drag him along. Now you're back and, for some reason, he doesn't quite seem to hate you in the way you thought he would.

(this is inspired by the Taylor Swift song by the same name, listen to it here)

Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst TRIPLE THREAT (?? am i okay)

Content Warnings: Explicit sex, break ups, the angst isn't too bad I don't think. Just break up stuff l o l (also don't judge any typos or repetitions I didn't edit this because I wrote this whole thing today someone save me from myself) (also also I am totally working on all requests still, I just get random inspo sometimes and when it hits, it hits)

Word Count: 10,012 (yoo for why did I make this so long help)

Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader (this is a non-canon AU, Jaemin is a lil businessman and the rest of Dream make appearances here. PS, Best Friend!Donghyuck y'all)

Juliet's Masterlist

Honestly, you never thought you’d make your way back to Seoul. Not when you didn’t have much to come back to. Leaving for college was the scariest decision you’d ever made, but you’re so much better off for it. The experience of living in another country—even if it just for school—is the best thing you’ve ever done.

But Seoul is home. Home is where the heart is, and yours has always resided here, even long after you left. You wonder about the friends you left behind, knowing you haven’t been the best at keeping up with them.

You especially think of Jaemin. The two of you were both twenty-two when you left and, at the time, you would’ve said you were in love with him. You’d been dating for a year before you made your decision.

You don’t think of him in a way that you still have feelings for him, but rather, you want the best for him. If anything, you want to know he’s been as successful as you after you walked away from him.

“America?” Jaemin raises his eyebrows, recoiling at the thought. “I mean, that’s a great opportunity, but wouldn’t it be hard?”

“Of course, it’ll be hard. I think I need to do this before it’s too late for me.” You look down at your hands to avoid eye contact with him. The last thing you want to do is break his heart. Hell, you’ll be breaking your own, too. But being in love with Jaemin doesn’t mean you have to stop everything going on in your life to make sure you keep him.

“How long?” he asks.

“The standard degree path is four years over there, but it could take longer.”

He pauses, gulping. “Wow. You’ll be gone for four years?”

“Yeah.” You pick at your nails and clear your throat. “This is…This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Jaem. I can’t miss it.”

“I know. I wouldn’t want you to. Um, I guess I’m just nervous as to what that means for us.”

“I love you.” You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “I love you so much, but I can’t ask you to wait for me for four years. Or longer.”

“It’s not like we won’t talk. We have calls, FaceTime, we have everything. However long you need, we’ll work it out.” He tilts his head. At your hesitation, worry spreads across his face.

“I…I don’t know if I’ll come back at all, is what I mean.” You finally meet his gaze and watch the shock course through him.

“Okay, then I’ll move there, too,” he replies, as if it were simple. His forehead wrinkles as he frowns. “If that’s what you want, I can do that. We’ve only been together a year, (Y/N), that’s not long enough for me. I need forever. I promised you forever and I meant it.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.” You shake your head, feeling your eyes well with tears. “Your family’s here. Your friends. We both know you wouldn’t want to move away from your mom forever.”

Jaemin lets out a short breath, tugging his hand away from yours and running it through his hair. “So that’s it? There’s no way I can convince you?”

“You deserve someone who wants the same things you do. The same life. If I can’t give that to you, someone else will. I love you, but sometimes, love isn’t always enough if we’re being pulled in different directions.”

“I won’t just forget about you. You’re just going to disappear?” He wipes away a tear, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t have to forget about me. I’m not forgetting about you. I just need to do something for myself, and I can’t force you along with me.”

The barista jolts you from your trance, asking you if there’s something she can help you with. You clear your throat, hoping you’ll be able to talk past the lump in your throat. After ordering your favorite coffee, you stand off to the side to wait for it.

The door dings behind you, but you think nothing of it. You continue about your business, checking your phone for the time and waiting for your drink. A message comes through from your friend Donghyuck asking if you’d gotten everything settled already.

You and Jaemin had the same friend group. That’s how you met, actually. Donghyuck brought you over to one of their group hang outs, and you and Jaemin clung to each other like glue. It was inevitable that you two would end up dating, and when you did, literally not one of them were surprised.

You send him a quick message back saying everything’s good, and then the barista calls your name. Smiling at her, you walk up to grab the steaming hot cup. Nearly groaning to yourself about how good it smells, you turn around to walk toward the door.

That’s when you see him.

Jaemin.

You haven’t seen him in years. Sure, you still had each other on social media, but you never went out of your way to look at him. Five years has done him well and, at first, you’re unsure if you should say anything. He’s staring right at you, but it doesn’t feel like an invitation. It feels weird.

He’s clearly not the same Jaemin he was, but he’s Jaemin.

And right when you think he’s going to storm off in the other direction and want nothing to do with you, he smiles widely and approaches you. His smile is as gorgeous as it was before, maybe even more so. Normally, this would do little to bother you. You two ended on somewhat good terms, so there’s no reason for either of you to be holding a grudge all this time later.

He wears black pants with a pale pink button-down tucked into them. There isn’t another word to describe him other than divine. He looks good.

With his hands buried in his pockets, he makes his way over. “I thought that was you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” You laugh shortly, surprised that you don’t feel too awkward now that he’s in front of you. “Wow, how long has it been?”

As if you don’t know.

“Five years?” he says it like a question. “It hasn’t been that long since we’ve talked though. I guess things are just hard with time zones, aren’t they?”

You give an exaggerated nod. “Totally get that. Well, how have you been?”

“Busy.” He snorts, widening his eyes. “Busy like you wouldn’t believe. Did you end up getting your degree over there? Have you been to see Donghyuck yet?”

“I got the very expensive piece of paper, yes. And I haven’t seen him yet, no. I got back two days ago and have been trying to get things settled before I take a break.” You sip your coffee, almost sighing at the taste of vanilla on your tongue.

“I’m proud of you.” He purses his lips. “Not sure if that means much, but I am. I’m glad it worked out the way you wanted.”

“Thank you. It means a lot, especially from you. What did you decide to do here?” you ask him, tilting your head a bit.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear,” Jaemin says. “Renjun, Chenle, Jeno, and I opened a business a couple years back. We’ve been doing pretty well, but it doesn’t really leave us with much time for anything else.”

“Holy shit, Jaem, that’s awesome.” You can’t help but grin at him. “I always knew you guys were destined for great things.”

You think back to when you’d hang out with all of them—Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, Chenle, and Jisung. Every Saturday night, you’d all get together for drinks at someone’s house, a constant rotation of happiness, friendship, and pure adoration. You love all of them, albeit in different ways, you feel a strong connection to them all. Being without them for so long has certainly made you nostalgic, but you’re sure you’ll at least see some of them now that you’re back.

You’re not sure if Jaemin will ever be comfortable hanging out with you. Neither of you were particularly bitter in your breakup, but it wasn’t mutual. You didn’t even want it, and he certainly didn’t either. But Jaemin has always been understanding—almost to a fault. He would never ask you to do something if it was against what you wanted to do.

“You know.” He pauses, running his tongue over his teeth. “Are you busy? I’m on my lunch, so if you want to catch up a little, I have the time.”

You hesitate, unsure if it’s a good idea. Before you and Jaemin dated, he was an excellent friend, too. Your only worry at this point is if things will be awkward between the two of you, but it doesn’t seem to be that way yet.

“Yeah, actually.” You take another sip of your coffee, cradling your jacket over your arm to your chest.

He gives you another dazzling smile and gestures over to a small table by the window. “After you.”

You sit down, shrugging your purse from your shoulder and hanging it from the back of the chair. He follows your lead, black hair falling like a curtain over his forehead as he leans forward to bring the seat closer. An odd urge to brush it away overtakes you, but you grab your coffee instead.

Your past with Jaemin is long gone. He’s definitely moved on to bigger, better things, and so have you. Your time in America wasn’t wasted, and you knew from Donghyuck the moment Jaemin moved on from you. It didn’t hurt the way you thought it would. You wanted him happy and cared for, and if you couldn’t do it, you hoped and prayed someone else would.

That was three years ago, but Donghyuck never talked about Jaemin to you again, unless it was something small that happened in a group setting. At that point, you’d also moved on, so as long as he was alive and thriving, you didn’t need to hear about it. Everything was okay.

You’ll always hold an unmatched adoration for the man sitting in front of you. He was your first real love, but everyone knows not everything in your early twenties lasts. It’s true what they say—that you never truly forget your first love. That, and how once you love someone, you’ll always hold some sort of affection for them in your heart.

You tell Jaemin of all the things you got to do in America, and he listens intently. In turn, he tells you about his business and how they grew it from the ground up. It’s one of the largest companies in South Korea, and your heart warms with pride.

Everything you did makes sense. You did it for a good reason. If he had dropped everything and come with you to America, he wouldn’t be doing what he loves. Eventually, you were sure he would’ve grown to resent you if he had gone.

Before you know it, the two of you have been talking for well over an hour. Your coffee is gone, the small bit left at the bottom chilled. On a whim, he checks his watch and recoils in shock.

“Oh shit,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize how long we’d been here.”

“It’s no big deal,” you reply, waving him off. “I’ll get going though.”

“Actually…So the guys and I still do Saturday nights. If you want to come this Saturday, it’s at my place. If you want, I can text you the address.” He taps his fingers on the table.

“Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun. It’ll be nice to see everyone. I did get a new number though, so let me give it to you.” You reach into your purse for your phone so you can find it. Since you had to switch plans when you moved back, you don’t really know it yet either.

You read it off to him, and he purses his lips while he sends his address to you in a text message. Afterwards, he stands up and brushes off his pants.

“It’ll be just like old times. Jisung is finally old enough to drink, too.” Jaemin chuckles to himself before running his fingers through his hair to push it back. “I’ll see you Saturday? We start at six.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there.” You watch as he retreats away from you, head held high as he walks out of the coffee shop. He was confident back when you dated, but he’s even more so, and for good reason. No matter what, it’s like he gets increasingly attractive as he ages.

As soon as he’s out of sight, you tap your cheeks to get the slight blush off of them. You didn’t expect to run into him like that, not so soon, but you’re glad you did. Everything happens for a reason, and you’re glad he’s okay with everyone hanging out. You’d hate to lose out on your friends because they have to pick sides.

The encounter stays heavy on your mind even until the next day when you’re supposed to meet Donghyuck for lunch. Your apartment is on the smaller side, since most of your savings was spent to get over here.

The living room is a little under furnished, but it’s nothing you won’t accumulate as time goes on. You have a soft loveseat, a TV mounted to the wall, and a small hallway off to the side that contains your kitchen and all the appliances. Your bedroom is on the left side, big enough only for your bed and a dresser.

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, trying your best to look at least presentable. You’ve been exhausted lately. Moving countries, across the world, takes a toll on you. At least today is Thursday. You have a job interview tomorrow, and then you’ll get to see your friends on Saturday. Your heart aches for them. They were the best friends you ever had, a complete, close knit group of people who just function so well together. There wasn’t anything else in the world like it.

You go to the small sandwich shop, finding Donghyuck already sitting there waiting for you. His face lights up like a Christmas tree at the sight of you, and his chair scrapes across the floor as he hurries to get up and hug you. He squeezes you so tightly, you almost can’t breathe. You laugh anyway, returning the gesture the best you can.

“My God, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!” he says, smiling widely. “Shit, you’re not allowed to move out of the country again.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him. “You came to visit six months ago.”

“Six months is still half a year, (Y/N). Never again.”

“Luckily for you, I do plan on staying.” You wait for him to release you before the two of you head over to the line to order.

“Every time I see you, it’s like you’ve grown up more.” Donghyuck fakes a pout, shaking his head. “Look at you, being an adult in the world.”

“Shut your mouth,” you say. “You’re only a year older than me.”

“A year is plenty of time for extra wisdom.” He crosses his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows like his point is valid.

He orders for both of you, insisting on paying even though you’re about ready to wrestle his wallet out of his hands. It doesn’t matter if you had a billion dollars, he would still insist. That’s always what he’s been for you, your best friend. He takes care of you even when you don’t need it.

“So, when’s your interview?” he asks, accepting the cups from the person at the counter. Handing it to you, he leads you over to the fountain, filling his with Coke Zero.

“I’m glad to see some things never change.” You grin, picking your favorite drink as well. “It’s tomorrow. I’m hoping it works out, because job searching is so tiring.”

“Tell me about it. I’m sure it’ll go great. You’re multilingual and stuff. Employers love that shit.”

Before you respond, the order is ready. You two walk back to your table, conversing back and forth about random things. The conversation takes a turn, and you’re surprised when he actually brings it up.

“Jaemin said he invited you for Saturday.” Donghyuck sips his drink. “Are you going?”

You frown. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t miss something like that. It’s been too long since I’ve seen everyone.”

“I know that. It’s not weird with you and him, though?”

“Not at all.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you contemplate. “I was worried it would be, but we caught up a little. He seems to be doing really well. If it’s not awkward for him, it won’t be for me. I’d love to be reinstated in the friend group.”

“Reinstated?” He scrunches his nose. “That implies that you were ever un-instated.”

“Is…is that a word?” You chuckle.

“I don’t know. Sounds right to me.” He shrugs, taking a large bite of his sandwich. “I did tell them you were coming back, but also that I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with that. They all miss you. I swear, Jisung has been talking my ear off asking when we’ll all get together. He’ll be so happy you’re coming.”

Jisung has always been the baby of the group. Even as a full grown adult, you all treat him like a child. He doesn’t complain about it, and he feeds into it probably a bit more than he should. You learn Mark and Donghyuck live together, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jeno live in their own places, and Jisung and Renjun live together. You’re a bit shocked by the last pairing, but you don’t say anything about it.

“Just promise me that if it does get weird, you’ll tell me?”

“I’ll tell you. Promise.” You nod. “I don’t think it will. It was years ago, Hyuck. He moved on, I moved on, and we’re completely different people now. Neither of us are mad.”

“Good. It’ll be nice to have the family back together again.”

After lunch, Donghyuck drives you home. You thank him for the ride, and you head up to your apartment. Regardless of what you say out loud, your brain truly is whirling like crazy after your time with Jaemin.

You didn’t expect seeing him to send you for a loop like this, but you can’t help but think back to how happy you were with him. You two were…something. Maybe not perfect, but it was fun. Magnetic. Passionate. Everything you’ve tried to replicate, even though it’s impossible. No other man could ever be Jaemin.

Your mind drifts off, and you lose yourself in memories.

Saturday nights were a novelty. You sit on Chenle’s couch with Jaemin practically hung over you, the rest of the guys talking simultaneously and incredibly loudly. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you loved it. It reminded you how many people you had by your side, and how many of them were truly like you.

Jaemin kisses your temple, pausing there for a moment. It’s late, and you know he’s getting tired. Even though these are your best friends, you understand his need to wind down after a long night. You bring your wine glass up to your lips, finishing it off.

“Ready?” he asks softly.

You glance over at him and nod, smiling. “Yeah, let me go put this away.”

When you stand up, hardly anyone notices. Chenle and Jisung are basically yelling at each other about something you can’t discern. You laugh when Chenle argues with dramatic hand motions. That’s how you know it’s serious.

You’re pretty sure Renjun has Jeno in a headlock, but you go into the kitchen before you get a good look. It’s a bit quieter in here, and you take a deep breath. You place the glass gently into the sink, closing your eyes and craning your neck back in an attempt to relax. Saturday nights drain you in the best ways, and exhaustion is starting to creep in.

Before you know it, a pair of arms snake around your waist, tugging you back gently. You find yourself against Jaemin’s chest, and you instinctively lean your head on his shoulder.

“And I thought I was tired,” he mumbles, kissing your hairline. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Can I stay with you tonight?” You turn to face him, lost in the way the lights glitter in his deep brown eyes. He truly is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and you don’t have to restrain yourself from reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin is so smooth beneath your touch, you want to touch it forever.

“You don’t even have to ask.” He nods. “You’re always allowed to stay with me.”

Jaemin tells the boys you’re leaving. Chenle and Jisung halt their argument to give you a hug, and even Renjun allows Jeno some breathing time so he can say goodbye, too. Jaemin’s place isn’t far from Chenle’s, so you sit in silence for the ride, sleep threatening to take over on the way.

His fingers intertwine with yours over the center console, and his thumb rubs gently on your skin. You hum in content.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” he whispers, careful not to startle you. “We’re almost there, my love.”

You try your best to listen to him. When you finally pull into his building’s parking lot, you’re barely able to keep your eyes open.

This week had been extra long, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to go to Chenle’s tonight in the first place. You’re glad you did, but you’d much rather be curled up with Jaemin. He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out, striding over to your side of the car.

Opening your door, he reaches across you to take your seatbelt off. “You okay? Do you want me to carry you?”

“Carry me? Jaem, you live on the fourth floor. I’ll be fine, just help me up.” You hold your hand out to him, but he clicks his tongue and slides his hands beneath your back and knees.

“You underestimate me,” he teases you, pulling you into his chest. “I’ll get you upstairs.”

Instead of arguing, you let your head fall onto his chest and you listen to his steady heartbeat. You’ve been together for six months now, and everything has been perfect. At this point, you’re pretty sure you want to marry Jaemin. You don’t know if he feels the same way, but you know you’d be damn lucky if that’s how things go.

He’s caring. Loving. All the things you could ever ask for. Hell, he’s carrying you into his apartment building so you don’t have to walk. He’ll make breakfast in the morning like he always does when you stay the night, and he’ll brush your hair and braid it if you want.

When you finally make it up to the fourth floor (via elevator, thankfully for Jaemin), his heart is still steady in his chest, and he brings you inside his apartment easily. He immediately brings you into his bedroom, setting you on his bed.

“Want a shirt, love?” he asks, heading over to his dresser.

“Please.” Your eyes are closed as you rest on his pillow, sinking into the soft mattress as if you’re on top of a cloud.

Jaemin grabs one for you, helping you sit up so he can help you take your blouse off. He pulls it over your head, the cotton fabric settling on your skin. It smells of his laundry detergent, so you take a deep breath to appreciate it.

“Okay,” he mutters. “Lay down now.”

He guides you back down, and he finds the button on your jeans. You aide him in taking them off of you, and then he kneels on the floor next to you, eye level with you.

“I love you,” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Forever. I promise.”

“Me too,” you reply, voice quiet. “Love you forever.”

With a soft smile, he leans forward to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep, my love. I’ll be back to cuddle in a few minutes.”

You watch him walk into his bathroom, but you’re fast asleep before he comes back out.

Forever. You scoff at your ceiling. What a concept. A novelty, really. You’re not even sure if it exists at this point. If a man like Jaemin wasn’t your forever, who the hell would be? Nobody interested you enough. You don’t think you want Jaemin anymore, but you don’t want anyone else either.

A cat. That’s what you need.

You try to distract yourself with the thought of that, but it doesn’t take long for another memory to completely consume you.

“Is this okay?” he asks, chest heaving while he hovers above you as his hand rubs up and down your side. “Tell me if you’re not comfortable.”

“I love you,” you tell him easily, as if the words are second-nature when they come to him. “I’m ready. I want you.”

Seven months in, and you and Jaemin were just now preparing to have sex for the first time. You’d touched each other, explored each other, but he always insisted he wanted it to be perfect. This, you decide, is perfect. He’s perfect. Nothing about him makes you nervous, and you’re more than ready to take the next step with him.

Neither of you are virgins, but it’d obviously been a while for you both. He lines himself up with your entrance and groans.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, as if he’s mesmerized. “I love you.”

To quell his nerves, you pull him down into a soft kiss, letting your mouths work together in perfect harmony while he slowly, carefully pushes inside you. His lips part, still pressed to yours, once he’s fully in.

Your eyes desperately want to flutter shut, but you don’t dare look away from him right now. He stays there for a moment, relishing in the feeling of the two of you finally being connected like this. Jaemin is deeply sentimental, so you know how much it means for him to take this step with you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently. “God, you feel so good.”

A small whimper leaves you at the sensation, and you rock your hips in response. “Move,” you tell him.

He drops his head to your neck, kissing, sucking, and nipping as he sets his pace. Oh so careful not to break you, he moans into your skin, the vibrations making your whole body tremble. The slide of him against your walls is intoxicating, and all you can do is take it, legs locked firmly around him as he takes you to a new world.

“Jaem.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair for encouragement.

He continues to thrust, his breathing starting to increase when he gets closer to the edge. Without missing a beat, he reaches between the two of you to rub circles on your clit. You moan a bit louder than you should, but you don’t care.

Suddenly, you’re floating, brain going fuzzy when you reach heights you never thought you could. Your back arches into his body, nails digging into his shoulders as the world tilts off its axis.

“Shit,” he gasps, hips bucking. “You’re squeezing me so tight.”

You let out a shuddering breath, body slumping when you land from your free fall. Weaving your fingers through his hair, you pull him up to kiss you, swallowing his breathy whine as he cums.

Both of you sit there for a few moments, the only sounds are from the panting. He rests more of his weight on top of you, enveloping you in all the heat pouring out of his body. With a sweet kiss, he hums into your mouth.

“We’re gonna have to do that again.” He chuckles, his nose nuzzling your cheek. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“Says you,” you retort.

“I’m so serious.” Jaemin frowns at you. “I’m going to make love to you forever. We’ll get old and gray and I’ll still find you sexy.”

You laugh, smacking his chest. “You’re ridiculous. But you better mean that.”

“I’ve never meant anything more.”

When Saturday rolls around, you head into your closet to pick out an outfit. You don’t want to wear anything too fancy, but not too casual either. Settling on a flowy, pale pink top and a pair of jeans, staring at yourself in the mirror for much too long.

No part of today has to be weird. You’ll show up, have a great night, go home, and repeat it again the next week. Even knowing that, you’re more nervous for tonight than you were for your interview yesterday.

You think you got the job, but you’d hear back for sure on Monday. Logically, you have nothing to worry about on either end.

You put Jaemin’s address into the map on your phone, and you see it’s not too far from your apartment. Donghyuck offered to pick you up, but you decided it’d be best if you got there on your own. That way, you don’t have to make Hyuck leave early if things aren’t going well for you.

You slide on your boots, checking your pockets to make sure you have everything before you walk out into the street. Locking the door behind you, you make your way over. It’s a little before six, but everyone knows you’re chronically early. Even when you and Jaemin were dating, you were at least fifteen minutes early for every occasion.

You’re excited to see Jaemin again, but you know you shouldn’t be. In fact, you distract yourself with the idea of all the other boys. You saw Hyuck already, but seeing all the others for the first time in years is going to be a great experience.

When you arrive at the building, you blink in surprise. With him being a successful businessman, you knew he probably didn’t live in the same place, but this one shocked you. It’s huge. There are probably dozens of floors, and you have to look at his text message again to see which one he’s on.

Twenty-four? Holy shit.

You step into the lobby, and the man at the front desk also serves as an elevator guard. When you approach, he raises his eyebrows at you.

“Where are you needing to go, ma’am?” he asks.

“Twenty-fourth floor, it doesn’t say a number on the text, though—”

“Let me call up there to confirm. What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” you reply, shifting on your feet.

“One moment, please.” He grabs the phone off the hook and dials quickly. “Mr. Na, I have a woman here to see you. Her name is (Y/N).”

It only takes a second for the man to nod and hang up the phone. He bows his head to you and gestures behind him. “He said he’s expecting you.”

The doors part for you and you step inside, and somehow, the button for the twenty-fourth floor is already pressed. You wait patiently inside as you ascend, the nerves beginning to sink in. Jaemin might be expecting you, sure, but you’re probably going to be the first one there. You always are.

When the elevator dings and opens, you expect a hallway. Instead, you’re walking straight into Jaemin’s living room. The wall across from you is all glass, the buzzing city view below making your heart drop. Hardwood flooring covers the expanse of the room, a faux fireplace on with a large sectional in front of it, a coffee table, and several other seating arrangements.

A few bottles of rosé are in a bin of ice on the coffee table, with ten glasses set out. You frown, letting your mind wander on who they could be for.

“Oh, you’re here!” It’s not Jaemin’s voice you hear.

When you turn toward it, you’re surprised to see a woman. She’s beautiful, with long black hair and shining brown eyes, and it takes you less than a split second to realize who she is. What did you expect? Jaemin moved on, and you shouldn’t be surprised. Your ribcage shouldn’t be constricting as hard as it is right now, but you laugh as she gives you a hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger.” She chuckles as she pulls away from you. “I’ve heard so much about you. The boys get so crazy when good things happen. It’ll be nice to have another girl around here, Jiyoon and I are pretty close to insane. I’m Yeeun.”

She holds her hand out to you and you take it, overwhelmed by the information she’s given you. Jaemin walks out from the kitchen, his white button-down shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the bottom hem tucked into a pair of blue jeans.

“Don’t scare her away.” Jaemin grins, shaking his head at her. “She’s kind of shy.”

“I’m not shy,” you retort.

“And that’s why you’re only one step inside, right?” Jaemin quirks an eyebrow, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “Make yourself at home. Lord knows everyone else does.”

“Where should I put my stuff?” I ask.

“The couch is fine. Everyone should be here soon.” Jaemin gestures over, but before you say anything else, he heads back into the kitchen.

“He’s so serious.” Yeeun cringes, walking with you to the couch. “Sometimes I think he’s got a stick in some places.”

“I can hear you,” Jaemin says.

You have to hold back another laugh.

“That’s the point,” she shouts back.

You take a seat and cross your legs, taking in the grandeur of Jaemin’s apartment. Various paintings hang on the walls and, in the midst of your concentration, something jumps in your lap. You gasp, throwing your hand over your mouth.

Thankfully, it’s just a kitten.

“Oh, that’s Luna.” Yeeun reaches over to give her a quick pet. “Jaemin’s got three cats. Luna, Lucy, and Luke. They kinda look similar, but you’ll learn them eventually.”

You stare at the animal in shock, wondering what convinced Jaemin to get three at once. Shrugging it off, you pick her up and hold her to your chest, running your hand over her soft fur.

“Chenle should be here any minute,” Yeeun says under her breath, glancing down at her phone. “Let me c—”

The elevator dings again, and Chenle walks in without a second thought. He tosses his jacket on the table and rolls his shoulders as if he’s done a bunch of work. Yeeun launches from the couch, and you can’t say you’re not relieved when you see her plant a kiss firmly on his lips. She’s not Jaemin’s girlfriend, she’s Chenle’s.

“You miss me after not seeing me for an hour?” he teases her, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“You’re so mean.” She scrunches her face, grabbing his hand and leading him over to the couch.

Chenle grins widely when he sees you and gives you a quick hug. “You finally decide to come back after five years?”

“Don’t be a brat.” You snort. “You’re elated I’ve returned.”

“We all are,” he says easily. “If I have to hear Hyuck cry one more time about you being thousands of miles away I might end him.”

“You and me both.”

“Oh, I had Yeeun come a little early. I knew you’d be atrociously early because you’re you, and I thought it might be weird with you and Jaemin alone, so…” Chenle lowers his voice.

“I appreciate you.” You smile, taking your spot back on the couch. “I’m okay, though. Really.”

Especially now that you know Jaemin’s not dating Yeeun.

“Chenle, I swear to God, if you eat all of this fucking board before everyone else gets here, I’m going to kill you.” Jaemin reenters, placing a charcuterie board down by the wine. “This took hours, dude.”

“I’ll leave it alone.” Chenle holds his hands up in mock surrender, sitting next to Yeeun and throwing his arm over her shoulders.

The next one to show up is Hyuck, who brings Mark in tow. They both hug you, and by now, conversation is flowing with everyone. Jeno is next, then Renjun and Jisung. You’re not sure what you were expecting from him, but he’s definitely turned into a grown up since the last time you’ve seen him.

“Holy shit,” you say, practically in awe. “Did you have seven growth spurts?”

“Actually, I think it was only one.” He laughs, patting your back. “I didn’t believe Hyuck when he said you were coming. Told him I’d have to see it with my own eyes first.”

When everyone is finally sitting down around the couch, you notice Chenle already eating some of the cheese. Jaemin glares at him, but he eventually gives up. You sit between Yeeun and Donghyuck, fading into the conversation in the way you used to. It warms your heart, and you have to fight the overwhelming feeling of having missed so much time.

Leaving was worth it. The experience you had was unlike any other, but you regretted not staying in contact with all of them—even Jaemin. Mark opens the wine first, pouring it into nine of the glasses.

“Where’s Jiyoon?” He frowns, directing his gaze to Jisung.

He shrugs. “She’ll be here soon. Her grandparents are in town, so she’s staying with her mom until they leave. But she shouldn’t be any later than seven-thirty.”

Your mind whirls at how they’re reacting to Jisung having a girlfriend like it’s normal. He’ll always be your baby brother in your eyes, regardless of blood relation.

“How’d your interview go?” Donghyuck asks you, roping you into the conversation.

“Oh, I think it went well. I find out for sure on Monday, so I’ll let you know.” You grin. “I’m ready to start making more money.”

“Why don’t you just come work for us?” Chenle offers. “I’m surprised Hyuck didn’t tell us you were looking for a job still.”

Donghyuck drops his head into his palm. “No shit, sherlock. Think about why I wouldn’t.”

“It doesn’t need to be like that,” Jaemin interjects, sighing. “(Y/N) and I are good. There’s no eggshells to walk on. Just let it go. Pretend it never happened.”

Pretend it never happened?

Your heart ping pongs around your chest, and you choke on your sip of wine. Everyone turns toward you and you chuckle nervously.

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting this topic.” You set the glass down on the table, suddenly much less interested in it.

“If that’s what she wants, she can absolutely do that,” Jaemin continues. “If we’re ever going to be normal, we can’t be the only ones over it.”

You stare down at your lap, fidgeting with your hands as you try to ignore all the attention on you.

“Um.” You clear your throat. “I’m gonna go grab some water.”

You shoot up from your spot, darting into the kitchen before anyone can say anything else. Once you reach the island, you brace your palms on it to keep you afloat. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath.

“Hey,” Jaemin murmurs, stopping next to you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if that was too much.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did I say something?” He furrows his eyebrows and shifts closer so you have to look at him.

“No, Jaemin, I promise. Everything’s good. I just need a minute.” You run your fingers through your hair and glance around the room. “Do you have water bottles?”

“In the fridge,” he replies.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he rests his back on the edge of the island, watching you as you grab one. You twist off the cap and take a sip.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. That was never my intention.” Jaemin sighs.

“Regardless of your intention, I’m not uncomfortable. Everyone’s just so…different. But the same. And I missed you guys, you know? I missed Saturday nights and being around my favorite people, but it’s…Forget it. Please.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Come back out whenever you’re ready, then.”

Jaemin walks away from you, looking back once over his shoulder before he disappears around the corner. You bury your head in your hands, but you refuse to let anyone think you’re upset. About anything. Jaemin especially.

You take another drink of water before you follow him out to the living room. When you make it back to your spot between Hyuck and Yeeun, he leans over to whisper, “I got up to follow you and he looked like he would rip my head off if I moved another muscle.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

Shortly after that incident, Jiyoon finally shows up. She’s a bit taller than Yeeun, with dyed blonde hair and brown eyes. Jisung introduces the two of you, and she greets you kindly. Mark fills her glass and hands it to her.

You hear funny stories from Jeno, listen to Renjun scolding Jisung about something, and rest your head on Hyuck’s shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind, so you don’t plan on moving. He’s having a heated discussion about something to do with stocks with Jaemin and Mark. You happily tune them out, because you have no idea what they’re talking about.

You finish your glass of wine and pour yourself another one. Chenle’s taken care of most of the charcuterie board by now, and Yeeun is showing him videos on her phone. You take a moment to appreciate everyone around you, something you never did before, and realize change may not be a bad thing.

Yes, everyone is different, but so are you. It’s magical when people grow up in the same direction, even past time, distance, and space. They’re all the same at their core, but older. Wiser. Happier. More mature.

You’re on your third glass by the time the night deepens. It must be past ten o’clock at this point, but you don’t feel tired at all. You’re surprised when Chenle and Yeeun leave first. They both hug you on their way out.

Apparently, they broke the seal, because Jisung and Jiyoon are next, followed closely by Renjun. Jeno doesn’t leave until eleven, and Mark and Donghyuck are packing up to leave as well.

“Do you need a ride home?” Hyuck asks.

“I’m okay.” You shake your head. “I’ll leave in a few minutes, don’t worry.”

He hesitates, but eventually listens to you. You’re left alone with Jaemin, much to your surprise, and he’s not kicking you out at the first opportunity he gets.

“Did you want help cleaning up?” you question.

“There’s not much to clean,” Jaemin replies, standing from his seat. “I won’t say no to help though.”

“Of course.” You chuckle and get up, brushing off your jeans.

Grabbing a few of the glasses, you carry them into the kitchen and put them by the sink. Between the two of you, you’ve got everything in the kitchen within a few minutes.

“I’m glad you came,” Jaemin says, running the water to rinse out the dishes.

“Me too.” It’s not a lie. You love being in this group, but you wonder if there was a better way to ease back in.

“I…Can I say something?” he asks. “If it’s too weird, you can tell me no.”

“By all means.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right? I’m not bitter and I don’t hate you. I missed you a lot, actually. But I don’t want you to think you can’t come around because of me.” He pauses, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m really proud of you. Of all the things you’ve accomplished, and I know we couldn’t have done the same things if we had stayed together.”

You don’t mean to let out a relieved breath, but his words take a weight off your shoulders. “Thank you, Jaem. I’m proud of you too.”

“Have one more drink with me? For old times’ sake?”

“I’d love that.”

So that’s how you end up next to Jaemin on his couch, his feet kicked up on his coffee table. You make jokes, talk about everyday things, but the more you drink, the more you crave to know about the past, about what happened after you left.

“Is the past off-limits?” You turn to look at him, almost blushing when you realize how close his face is to yours.

“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “But for every question you ask me, I get to ask you one.”

“That sounds like a good deal.” You smile. “But you go first.”

He gives you a half-smile before pursing his lips as he thinks. “Was it easy for you? Over there, I mean.”

“I wouldn’t say it was easy. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact experience because things are so different here…but I don’t think I’d go back. It was a good experience, and I loved it, but this is where I belong.” You stop, contemplating your own question. “How were you?”

“Is complete honesty okay?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“It’s preferred, actually.” You take another sip.

“It took me a long time to recover. And I don’t want to make you feel bad, because what’s done is done, and we both needed the room to grow. You know, if you never hurt, you’ll never learn. Life is full of learning experiences. But yeah, I was a mess for a while. I loved you long after you left.” He smiles, as if loving you is a fond memory. “Do you miss me?”

Present tense. Miss. Not did you miss me, but do you miss me.

You chuckle, pursing your lips. “Yeah, I do.”

When you meet his gaze again, you see the soft look he gave you whenever he saw you before. He gulps, wetting his lips. Your heart twists in your chest as you realize what this means for you. No matter how much time passes, you’ll never stop loving Jaemin. It doesn’t matter how far apart you’ve been or for how long, because all of you yearns for all of him.

Your voice shakes when you ask your next question. “Where would we be if I hadn’t left? If I changed that, would everything be different?”

“Um.” He’s only inches away from you, studying your face with fervor. “In my mind, I definitely thought we’d be married by now. In love and happy, making babies that hopefully look more like you.”

You try not to let the tears form, but they sting your eyes anyway.

“Is that what you wanted?” he whispers.

“Well, I kinda wanted them to look more like you, but yeah.” You laugh as a tear falls, and you move to wipe it away, but Jaemin beats you to it. His thumb swipes across your cheek.

You’re not sure what’s happening between the two of you, but every part of you craves this.

“We were pretty great, huh?”

“Is that your question?” He smiles. “Because yeah, we were.”

“If that was mine, that one counted as yours too.” You lean into his touch, letting the warmth seep through your skin. “God, I wish it had been you. I wish you were the one.”

His lips part, but it sounds as if his words catch in his throat. He blinks rapidly for a second, gulping. “Who said I can’t be?”

He leans closer.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your heart drops, but you give him a tiny nod, aching for him. “Jaemin.”

He stops right before your mouths connect, and he lets out a sigh.

“Jaemin,” you repeat. “I have to say something first.”

“Okay.”

“I thought I got over you, but it’s only because I didn’t see you for years. Being with you right now…I might still love you, and if you’re not kissing me for the same reasons, we should stop before we both get hurt again.” You clench your eyes shut, refusing to look at him while you make a fool of yourself.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He doesn’t give you the chance to respond, kissing you hard. You melt into him, much like the ways you used to.

He shifts to cup both of your cheeks, his mouth working against yours in that perfect harmony you’d only ever found with him. You grasp onto his sleeves. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours.

“I…” he trails off, wetting his lips. “I want you.”

His voice is raspy as he says it, and it sends heat between your legs. You clench your thighs together.

“Me too,” you reply. “I want you, too.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course.” You lean forward to kiss him, and as your lips meet his, he pulls you onto his lap. Straddling him, you weave your fingers in his hair and hold him close to you.

His hands dip down to your ass, squeezing it and pushing you a bit forward. You groan when you feel his tongue slide across your bottom lip, and you give him access. Without a fight, you let him dominate your mouth. When you grind down, you gasp when you feel him hardening beneath you.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers, only breaking the kiss for a split second.

He lets out a small whine when you pull away from him, but he’s quickly silenced when you tug your blouse over your head. While he stares at your black lace bra, you work on unbuttoning his shirt.

“Not here,” he interrupts you, grabbing your hands. “There’s only one place I want to have you right now.”

He stands, holding onto you tightly while you wrap your legs around his waist. For a brief second, you think about what Hyuck would say to you right now—if he would be okay with it or if he would call it a mistake—but you chase the thought away as fast as it comes.

Jaemin carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He sets you delicately onto his bed, the familiar softness making you sigh. After he finishes taking his shirt off, he climbs on top of you, kissing your cheek, your jawline, down the pulse thundering in your neck, your collarbone, the swells of your breasts. He leaves marks on them before continuing his descent.

And then he’s at the hem of your jeans. He looks up at you, eyebrows raised. “Can I?”

“Please.”

Jaemin is a unique lover. He memorizes all the things you love, what makes you tick, and what he can do to elevate your pleasure. You’ve never had to fake it with him.

“It’s been a while for me,” he mutters. “It might not be…the best.” He clears his throat awkwardly, but pops the button and unzips the zipper.

“I’ll be happy with whatever you can give me,” you say.

His confidence returns after that, and he moves to tug your pants down your legs. You try your best to help him get them off of you, and he finally makes it back between your legs. He rubs his thumb over the obvious wet spot in your panties, humming to himself.

“Time doesn’t change how wet you get for me, huh?” He tsks, pressing a kiss to your clit through the fabric.

When he tugs them down, he admires you before leaning forward. You don’t expect the electric shock you feel when his mouth comes in contact with your core, but it has your back arching when he’s hardly done anything. Your hand immediately finds his hair, gripping it.

His tongue slides along your entrance, barely dipping inside before flicking your clit. He teases you like this a few times, but then his lips wrap around your sensitive bud and he sucks. His fingers trail up your thigh, and he extracts a moan from you when he pushes them inside you.

You inadvertently clench your thighs around his head. He moans against you, the vibrations sending pleasure shooting up your spine. You don’t mean to push him closer to you, but you can’t help it. Everything inside you feels like it’s crumbling and coming together at the same time under his ministrations.

You writhe much more than you should, and if it were anyone other than Jaemin, you’d be embarrassed.

“You taste so good,” he groans against you, thrusting his fingers faster. “So beautiful when you drip for me like this.”

He curls his fingers, and you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your pleasure. One last flick of his tongue on your clit has your back arching, the bubble bursting inside you as you grind into his face.

After he’s helped you ride through your high, you sit up, sending him back a bit. You quickly reach for his pants, squeezing the prominent bulge before undoing the button and zipper. He steps out of them , pulling you toward the edge of the bed.

“We don’t have to,” he says, breathless. “We can wait if you’re not sure.”

“Jaem,” you reply, cupping his cheeks. “I’ve never wanted you more than I do right now.” You tug him down, kissing him with all your might. You taste yourself on him, but it does little to bother you. All you want is him.

His tongue explores your mouth while he finds the clasp of your bra. He pulls it away from you, guiding you back down onto the bed. His kiss trails down once more, stopping at your breast so he can take your nipple into his mouth. He swirls it, teeth gently scraping.

Finally, he’s shoving his underwear down and grabbing a condom from his nightstand. He rolls it on before joining you on the bed once more, and you feel his tip prodding at your entrance.

“You’re absolutely sure?” He pauses, giving as serious of a look as he can muster. “If we do this, you’re mine again, you know that, right?”

“I’ve always been yours, Jaemin,” you remind him, lifting your hips. “That never changed.”

You barely have time to finish your sentence before he’s pushing inside you, face contorting with pleasure as he bottoms out. Heart pounding, you grip onto his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist.

“You okay?” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your neck. His eyelashes flutter across your skin, your body already slightly sticky from a thin sheen of sweat from your first indescribable high.

“Please move,” you whimper.

Jaemin moves slowly at first, allowing you both to get used to the feeling of being connected again. It’d be a long while since you’d done anything, too. He pants, nipping and sucking at the sensitive part of your throat.

His hips rock steadily, making sure to press as deep as he can every time. You're already a moaning mess below him, holding onto him for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I’m not gonna last long.”

In response, you tighten your legs around him and flip him over, leaving him on his back and you on top. His eyes trail all over your body. You roll your hips. He sits up, grabbing your waist and pressing your chest against his, his dark, hardened gaze meeting yours as if this is a challenge.

“Lay back,” you tell him, running your hand down the hard planes of his chest as you gently push him back down. “Just watch.”

He gulps, but does as you say. His hands relax on you and he allows you to set your own pace. You lift up, shuddering at how he feels rubbing on your walls. His fingers twitch as if he wants to pull you back down.

“Baby,” he groans.

You set a steady pace, a bit faster than what his was. He traces down your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he moves downward until his thumb is pressed to your clit. You bite your lip to stop your moan, leaning back and bracing yourself on his thighs. He’s a mess beneath you, pleasure written across his face. It makes you want to do more, to work harder to bring him to his edge.

You’re so wet, slick sounds of him entering you fill the silence between sounds of euphoria. His thumb glides back and forth so easily, you have to pick up the speed. Everything around you begins to go fuzzy, and you know you’re approaching your second orgasm of the night much faster than you’d like.

Mid-way through your lift-up, your high hits, forcing you back down on his cock to finish with him buried deep inside, stretching you out. He sits back up, guiding you up and down as you slump onto his chest. He meets you halfway, thrusting up as he pulls you down.

He lets out a deep groan and holds you close to him, gently rocking his hips. He gasps for breath, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder.

“I love you,” Jaemin whispers. “Don’t go again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You shake your head. “I love you, too.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you both frown when you hear the elevator ding.

“Who is that?” you ask, climbing off of him on shaky legs to try and find your clothes.

“Not a clue.” Jaemin frowns, quickly disposing of the condom and putting his underwear and pants back on. He comes back to kiss your cheek. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He walks out into his living room, but you get dressed quickly so you can follow him out. You hear him conversing with someone, but you’re not sure who it is. You’re finally back in your jeans and shirt, so you head out to check out what’s going on.

You know your hairs a mess, your makeup is definitely smeared, and your face is red, and on top of all of that, you’re coming out of Jaemin’s room. Anyone with a brain would see what’s going on.

Chenle moves over to the couch and grabs a purse, which is presumably Yeeun’s, and claps Jaemin on the shoulder before he notices you.

“(Y/N)?” He blinks in surprise, glancing between you and Jaemin. “This is a new development.”

“It’s not really that new,” Jaemin says. “Um, we were kind of…busy, though. If you could…”

“Right.” Chenle shakes his head. “Right. You two have fun. Not too much fun, and make sure no one gets hurt this time, please?”

“Are you going to tell Donghyuck?” You scrunch up your nose.

“I’ll give you a twenty-four hour head start.” He grins, saluting you both. “Take care of each other, dipshits.”

You massage your forehead with a sigh, and Jaemin approaches you.

“You got dressed.” He pouts.

“Well, yeah. Somebody was here.” You chuckle.

“Were you wanting to leave?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s okay if you do, I just…thought we’d spend the night together.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you tell him. “I told you I’m not leaving you again, Jaem. I meant it.”

“Then let’s get back to bed.” Jaemin massages your shoulders gently as he guides you back to his room.

He gets you a T-shirt to wear to bed, and once you’ve changed into it, you crawl onto his mattress and wait for him to join you. Instead, he stares at you, a smile on his face.

“I never thought I’d get you like this again.”

“You were always the one for me, Jaemin. It just wasn’t the right time.” You rest your head on one of his pillows, patting the spot next to you. “Now come over here.”

He finally listens, climbing under the comforter and pulling you to him until you’re pressed into his chest.

Kissing the top of your head, he hums. “We’ll have everything we ever wanted.”

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #jaemin #nct dream jaemin #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin scenario #na jaemin #nct jaemin #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios

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lilmisshellfireswritingblog · 1 month ago

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Good Luck, Babe Chapter 1: The Prophecy

Pairings: rockstar!Eddie x popstar!reader

Warnings: 18+, angst, regrets

Song Inspiration: The Prophecy by Taylor Swift

Two Years Later, 1989

The dim lights of the stage flicker briefly before the spotlight snaps on, revealing you standing alone at the center with your guitar, heart thudding heavily beneath your ribs. You stood in a long satin gown, hugging your curves perfectly. Your hair was down past your shoulders in gentle waves. Your makeup was perfectly crafted to enhance your features for the camera, a thick layer of maroon lipstick coating your lips.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

This wasn’t even your first time performing live. Your agent had gotten you several gigs throughout the Los Angeles area within the past year, causing your status in the music world to change. You were now the rising star. Eddie was the rockstar.

The performance felt different. Today, you decided to share the song you wrote the day you had ended things with Eddie. Your agent thought it would make you relatable - that even the “most successful women experience heartbreak.” It sounded like a stupid idea but you didn’t question it. You had to follow directions, otherwise this career would lead you nowhere fast.

The live audience’s applause fades into a sea of anticipation, hushed whispers floating around the venue. A single, pregnant moment of silence stretches and then you strum the first chord. The sound cuts through the air like a whisper only meant for the person listening most closely.

As you open your mouth, your voice is soft at first, laced with a haunting vulnerability that feels almost too raw for this stage. The words are familiar to you, but tonight, the story was theirs.

One, two, one, two, three, four Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle Oh, but it's gone againAnd it was written I got cursed like Eve got bitten Oh, was it punishment? Pad around when I get home I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope A greater woman wouldn't beg But I looked to the sky and said

The audience hangs on every syllable of the first verse, some nodding along, others lost in the sadness of your words. The pain is palpable in the way you sing. You don’t need to look out at the sea of faces to know that they sense it too—the ache of something that didn’t last, something broken, and something you’ll never truly get over.

You lift your head for a moment, letting the emotion settle in your chest before continuing onto the chorus.

Please I've been on my knees Change the prophecy Don't want moneyJust someone who wants my company Let it once be me Who do I have to speak to About if they can redo the prophecy?

You let the words carry themselves, the melody sweeping over you like a gentle tide, though it’s anything but gentle. The memories flood in—Eddie, with his wild hair and those wide, soulful eyes that always seemed to be a little lost, a little searching, as though they had too much weight for a person to carry. And yet, he did, didn't he? And so did you. Both of you, carrying your own separate burdens, your own separate traumas, trying to find something to hold onto in the aftermath of your shared chaos.

You remembered the nights where you’d be tangled in the sheets, laughing together, sharing kisses that would steal your breath away forever. The days where he would serenade you with some romantic metal song. The nights where his body was on yours and you were lost in the throes of passion that you never wanted to end.

Tears threatened your eyes but you looked up at the lights above you, begging them not to fall as you continued with the second verse.

Cards on the tableMine play out like fools in a fable, ohIt was sinking in Slow is the quicksandPoison blood from the wound of the pricked handOh, still I dream of him

A slight tremor catches in your voice, but you catch it, steadying yourself as you press forward, no longer letting yourself falter. You continue into the chorus, looking out at the audience before carrying into the bridge.

And I sound like an infant Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen A greater woman stays cool But I howl like a wolf at the moon And I look unstable Gathered with a coven round a sorceress' table A greater woman has faith But even statues crumble if they're made to wait I'm so afraid I sealed my fate No sign of soulmates I'm just a paperweight in shades of greige Spending my last coin so someone will tell me it'll be okay

You continue to strum, repeating the chorus until it lead you right to the end of the song. Your voice softened, almost wavering as you finished the song.

The crowd is silent now, all eyes on you, some captivated by the rawness, others perhaps a little confused by the sadness in your tone. You know they don't know the backstory—not the one that’s still buried beneath your skin, raw and unhealed. They don’t know Eddie. The Eddie you knew, the one who loved you so fiercely, even when it felt like he couldn’t love himself. The Eddie who would hold you close, even when everything was falling apart around you. The Eddie who left. They knew Corroded Coffin Eddie. The face value Eddie that you had gotten to know toward the end of the relationship

The final verse hits and you feel a tightness in your chest as the words spill out, as though you're not singing for the audience anymore, but for the ghost of him you can never quite shake off.

Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle, oh But it's gone again Pad around when I get home I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope A greater woman wouldn't beg But I looked to the sky and said, "Please"

The final strum rings through the air, and the silence is deafening. A single beat passes before the crowd erupts into applause. It’s not the usual excitement—the kind that would accompany your faster, more energetic songs—but it’s appreciative, solemn, held in solidarity. They’ve felt what you’ve put into it and it’s more than enough.

You take a steadying breath, give a small nod of gratitude, and step back from the mic, the weight of the song still lingering in your chest like a stone. Waving to the audience, you step off the stage and sprinted into your green room where you then let the waterworks fall.

-------

The camera fades in from black and you stand next to the host, who is smiling at you with that practiced, warm smile, though there’s something cautious in his eyes. His tone is light, but it’s obvious he’s chosen his words carefully.

"That was... that was something, wow," the host begins, his voice full of admiration. "I think a lot of people were expecting something a little more upbeat tonight, but that song you just sang… Wow—that was raw. Deep. What was the inspiration behind it?"

You nod slowly, swallowing down the knot in your throat. It’s hard to talk about something so personal, even now, two years later. You’re not sure what else to say. You smile, but it’s small, and a little sad.

"I wrote it the day I… the day things ended," you begin, your voice steady but quiet, almost like you're speaking to yourself as much as to him. "It wasn’t exactly how we thought it would go, but I guess love never really works out the way we want it to, right? And sometimes, all you really need is just…someone there for you regardless of fame and money…”

The host raises his eyebrows slightly, clearly picking up on the unspoken weight of the words. "I mean, you’ve been through a lot of changes in the past couple of years. Moving from Hawkins to Los Angeles, the breakup, a new career in music. And the last time you performed…well you can say, The Prophecy, well, it’s a departure from what we’re used to hearing from you. Would you say that song represents where you are now?"

You pause, looking down at your hands, fingers still aching from the guitar strings. You don’t lie, but you also don’t quite tell the whole truth. They didn’t need to know the entire story.

"Yeah, I think so," you say, your voice lighter now, almost like you’re trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. "It’s... hard, but I think we all have those moments, right? Moments where things feel like they’re slipping through our fingers and all we can do is look ahead and hope for better and sometimes, that hope seems…hopeless.

The host smiles, though it’s gentle now, understanding in a way you don’t feel like explaining. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Well, whatever it means to you, The Prophecy is definitely striking a chord with people. And it’s clear from your performance tonight that you’ve poured a lot into your music. We’ll be keeping an eye on what you do next. I think you have a very successful career ahead of you.”

"Thanks," you say, offering a soft, sincere smile. You turn slightly to the side, pretending for just a moment that you’re not being watched, letting your gaze wander over the crowd again. You don't know what comes next—whether you'll ever be able to let go of the past—but you do know one thing: this is a story you can’t rewrite, no matter how much you want to.

So you let it be.

Eddie’s POV

Eddie Munson sat in his living room, the lights low, his feet propped up on the coffee table. It was too quiet—he hadn’t expected this much silence tonight, especially not with the world buzzing over your performance. The night was stretching on and he’d been avoiding it for days, weeks, maybe longer. But here he was, leaning forward, eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for you.

He hadn’t heard from you in two years. That day, that awful, quiet moment when everything had shattered between you two—he’d left, he’d walked out, and it had never felt so final. And even now, two years later, when he thought he had it all figured out, when he convinced himself that he was better off being out of your life, he still couldn’t stop caring. He still couldn’t stop wondering what you were doing, how you were feeling, what you thought of him now.

He didn’t want to know, but then again, he couldn’t help it. He never could when it came to you.

He never stopped loving you.

Tonight, you were performing live. He’d heard the rumors about your new album, heard whispers about how raw it was, how it was a departure from your initial singles. He didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to know what kind of songs you’d written about your new life, your new lovers, your new world. But there was this… gnawing curiosity he couldn’t ignore. So here he was, watching you on TV, his hands clenched tight in his lap.

The lights on the stage dimmed, and the camera panned over the crowd. And there you were.

You were standing alone at the center of the stage, holding your guitar, your hair falling just right over your shoulders, the spotlight casting shadows over your face. Eddie's heart skipped a beat. You looked as beautiful as ever but tonight there was something different. Something... heavy about the way you stood there. He couldn’t put his finger on it. You weren’t smiling the way you usually did, not the way you used to when you'd lock eyes with him in a crowd. This was different.

You strummed the first chord, slow and deliberate. Eddie could hear the way the note rang out, its sound long and lonely in the empty space. It was the kind of music that made your chest tighten, made the room feel smaller, colder.

And then you sang.

His breath caught in his throat. There was a rawness to your voice—something that felt like a plea, but more like a warning.

Please I've been on my knees Change the prophecyDon't want money Just someone who wants my company

Eddie’s heart skipped. The lyrics cut through the air like a blade. There was something painfully familiar about them, and for a moment, he was almost paralyzed by the feeling that this was something written for him. His fingers twitched in his lap, and he leaned forward. What were you saying? Why did it feel like you were speaking directly to him through the TV screen, even after all this time?

He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew. He knew what this song was about.

The moment you’d ended things—the moment you had made the decision to walk away and let him go because it was "better for him”—he could almost hear your thoughts in the song. And now, you were telling the world that love wasn’t enough to save either of you. That it couldn’t have been. He’d been so sure of it then. So certain that giving you what you wanted would protect you from the mess he actually was.

And now you were telling everyone.

Eddie’s eyes darted to the screen, the tears of frustration and regret gathering in his throat.

Slow is the quicksand Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand Oh, still I dream of him

He winced. These lines—these words—felt like something from the deepest parts of your soul that was still broken despite the breakup being your idea. He thought leaving you would make everything better, but it hadn’t. The silence after the breakup had been unbearable. And now, two years later, it was still echoing in his mind like a drumbeat that wouldn’t stop.

He should have called that day he left. He should have fought.

He should have stayed.

But the worst part? The part that really hurt was how much he could feel the love you’d once had for him in every note you sang. He could hear it in the tenderness of your voice, the way you struggled not to break. You didn’t hate him.

You still loved him.

And that realization, the weight of it, almost knocked him off his feet. How could you still have feelings for him? How could you—after everything he’d done? After he made you feel like you were just on the sidelines.

Hell, you were his world. This world of music didn’t feel whole without you. It only felt good when you were there, supporting him, loving him…

The song went on, and Eddie couldn’t look away. You sang with so much intensity, every word wrapped up in pain. The Prophecy wasn’t just about what had happened—it was about you begging to change the past.

But even statues crumble if they're made to waitI'm so afraid I sealed my fateNo sign of soulmatesI'm just a paperweight in shades of greigeSpending my last coin so someone will tell me it'll be okay

The word prophecy hit Eddie like a hammer. He could see you standing there, delivering the song with such conviction, as if you knew the future, as if you had seen it all unfold. Maybe you had. Maybe you’d known all along that you two were always destined to fall apart.

But Eddie wasn’t sure if he believed that. He wasn’t sure if he could believe that.

He watched as you went through the final verse, your voice trembling at the edges as you sang. Hearing your pain made Eddie feel sick to his stomach. You had probably seen the tabloids, the gossip columns. How could he be so stupid?

He squeezed his eyes shut. How could I have done that to you?

The song wrapped up, the final notes hanging in the air like a heavy mist. Eddie sat in stunned silence, his heart pounding, his palms clammy. The crowd’s applause echoed in his ears, but all he could hear was the song. Your song. You had written this song out of the pain of that day. He just knew.

Eddie was a wreck. There was no other way to put it.

The interview came next, but Eddie barely heard the host’s questions. He watched you speak, your voice calm but guarded, like you were still protecting a part of yourself. When you talked about the song, about letting go, about the way things had turned out, Eddie’s chest tightened.

He felt the weight of it all—the loss, the love, the regret—all pressing down on him. Letting go… it was clear that you’d done it. And maybe, just maybe, that was the hardest part of all.

He wanted to reach through the screen and tell you—tell you that he’d made a mistake, that he should have fought harder or postponed the tour. That he hadn’t meant to hurt you. That he hadn’t known how badly he was breaking something that was so fragile, so precious.

As the interview wrapped up and the screen went to black, Eddie sat there, completely still. His hands were shaking, his heart raw.

He had to change things. He had to tell her that he still loved her, even after all this time.

Here you were, begging someone to change the prophecy and he knew it had to be him.

He had to fight to change the prophecy.

#eddie munson #reader insert #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #stranger things fan fiction #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things #fanfiction #x reader

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slytherinshua · 1 year ago

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YOUR DISTRACTING KISS

genre. fluff. warnings. a little profanity and a lot of kissing. hwiyoung flirting SKDJS HELP. ME. i don't think it's suggestive at all, but...? pairing. hwiyoung x fem!reader. wc. 948. request. no. a/n. ITS INSANE HOW DELUSIONAL I AM FOR THIS MAN LIKE IT DOESNT EVEN MAKE SENSE HOLY SHIT IM SO DOWN BAD IM SCREAMING EVERY DAY BCUZ HES SO SKDFJHSKD(@#*$(???????

You loved watching your boyfriend write songs. He liked to do things the nostalgic way— spending his time in an old car garage with a crappy sound system set up, an electric guitar and bass at his disposal. He wrote down lyrics in a little notebook. He said he got more inspiration for the song when he wasn’t staring at a computer.

Youngkyun had already been writing for an hour before you arrived with coffee for him. Your heart raced whenever you stepped into the garage, sliding down the metal garage door after you stepped in. You had made a lot of memories with your boyfriend in this old garage. You had even spent some dates here, and participated in more than a few makeout sessions.

Youngkyun looked as stunning as always, but what you would never get tired of looking at was his long hair and bare face. There was no arguing that the mullet style suited him the most, and it drove you absolutely crazy to think about. Along with his rings, oversized t-shirt and 4 or so loose-chained bracelets on his left hand, he looked like a proper rockstar boyfriend. You slid the iced americano over to him, flashing him a smile which he mirrored.

“Thank you, baby.” He muttered, focusing back on the lyrics he was jotting down, taking a short break to sip the coffee. You sat next to him, watching him work for a few minutes before taking out your phone. You heard a frustrated groan after a while and looked up.

“Need a break from this— ‘fucking frustrating.” He mumbled, tossing the notebook onto the table. He looked over to you, grabbing your wrist to pull you over until you were sitting on his lap. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing some strands of his pretty hair behind his hair.

“You’ll get it eventually. You always do.” You reassured. Your hand lingered on his face, feeling his soft skin beneath your fingers. You traced his cheekbone and he sighed, closing his eyes under your touch.

“Just want a distraction for now.” He told you, leaning his head back to rest on the top of the couch. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and back down as he gulped.

“Pretty.” You whispered to yourself— ever enamoured by your pretty boyfriend and his attractive features; one of the most attractive being his neck.

His lips lifted at your comment, and he opened his eyes again to look at you, “I was the one who wanted a distraction, not the other way around.” He reminded you, teasingly smirking at the way you quickly brought your eyes back up to his face from where they had previously been focused.

“We’re both a distraction to each other. I have a shift in an hour…” You trailed off.

“And?”

“And it takes 45 minutes to get there from here.” You completed.

Youngkyun laughed, “Then I have 15 more minutes to be distracted by you.” He pulled your face down to meet his, starting to kiss you slowly. He had always been a passionate kisser, sincerity and warmth shown to you every time his lips touched yours.

“Guess I’m going to be late… Again.” You breathed in between kisses. Not spending too much time talking before finding Youngkyun’s lips again— they were too addictive not to want to keep kissing. His lips always tasted like the orange lip balm he used.

“Is that a problem?” He questioned, pulling your waist closer to him. You shook your head immediately, both of you giggling at the situation. Your boyfriend sighed as you slipped your hands into his hair, the gentle movements of your fingers folding through his locks massaged the tension from his head, relaxing him further.

He kissed your lips again, always soft and gentle with you despite his evident frustration with his work. He had been shown enough many times in the past that letting out his pent up frustration through gentler actions worked the best. He just needed relaxation and attention, and you were more than happy to provide both.

He wished he could have your lips on him all day, especially when you shifted yourself to be able to kiss his neck. Your plush lips pressed short kisses to the side expanse of his neck, slowly travelling towards his Adam’s apple. Once you pressed another gentle kiss to it, you pulled your head back up, untangling yourself from your boyfriend and finally standing up. You glanced at the time on your phone and let out a laugh, slightly short of breath from all the kissing.

“10 minutes late already. Not too bad.” You grinned at Youngkyun and he scoffed. He held your hand back, stalling a little longer until you had to leave.

He gave it a gentle, loving squeeze, “Thanks for the distraction. Can I take you out for dinner after work?” He offered, staring at you with such an adoring gaze. He was so in love with you it felt like he was going crazy.

“I’ll make sure I look pretty for you, then.” You responded with a smile, “Gotta match up to you somehow.”

He frowned, “You already look absolutely gorgeous, angel. Don’t look too pretty. I’ll get a heart attack.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You assured him, grabbing your bag and heading towards the garage door, “Love you!”

He smiled as he watched you leave, calling out that he loved you too before you shut the door behind you. He picked up his notebook again, fiddling with the pen before starting to scribble words down. Thanks to your little distraction, he had found the perfect lyrics to finish the song.

↳ sf9 taglist: @eternalgyu

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jpeg-dot-jpeg · 7 months ago

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jpeg my beloved i am here with questions for the ask game!!! and also with love and hugs and some flowers for you xoxo 🌻🌹🌷🪻🫂💕🫂🪻🌷🌹🌻

6, 7, 11, 17, 24, 27, 29 or any variation between, please!

Guess who forgot this was sitting in my drafts!

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

Tim's Tiny Cock by WeirdAlterEgo is perhaps the funniest, most feel good fic/series I've ever read in my life and it brings me pure delight every time I read it. Can not recommend it enough. It's goofy, it's heartwarming, it's sweet, it's HILARIOUS. Everyone should read this right now and bookmark it for later.

7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?

Okay so excluding all wips that have already been started, I've got 70 ideas bulleted in my notes app plus half a dozen odd ideas bouncing around in my brain at any given time. The ones in my brain I kind of just keep around for daydream material.

11. Do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

Not really, no. Sometimes, I'll pick a song on youtube then just let an automatic mix run, but music isn't a regular part of my writing process.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

The extent to which I studied the process of how the human body produces blood for To Bite or Not to Bite so that my silly vampire lore would make sense from an evolutionary standpoint....

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

I was a bit nervous to post Cool Down because at the time of writing it, I had basically no experience with recreational drug use and was afraid it would be really obvious to anyone who did have experience. Fortunately, if anyone has found that fic unrealistic, they haven't bothered to say so, and there have been so many lovely comments that make me less nervous to write similar works in the future <3

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

I wrote 3k words of this porn-with-feelings work before tossing it in the scrap pile, but after skimming through it to find this snippet, maybe I'll fuck around around post it 👀

This language only the two of them speak is gift and affirmation and time and touch and service all at once. There just aren’t enough words in any of the dialects either of them know to properly convey how intertwined they are now. And maybe their houses are built too close together to avoid both of them burning down if one catches fire. Maybe if someone cuts down Tim’s tree, Jason’s will fall too. Maybe they’re messy and reckless and insane. But don’t fucked up people deserve love too? Aren’t mosaics made out of shattered glass?

#bean my beloved!!#darling i'm so sorry brain go brrrrrrr for the last month #being an adult is hard #i dont have demtal insrance :(#ask answered #JayTim #fic rec

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thinkingabthim · 2 years ago

Text

👜👒｡✧⭒˚ ~ Tagpuan

Genre: Angst

King!Steve x Reader

Summary: loving Steve was hard, you tried your best only to realise he only liked the idea of being with someone but not the idea of you.

Word count: 848

Inspired by: the song tagpuan

warnings: swearing, cheating, spoilers from season 1

A/N: hey babes sorry for disappearing I wrote this at 4am so not proof read ty

Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins. Everyone knows him and wants to be with him. But out of all of them, he chose you. Which was surprising because you weren’t anyone special. Just a normal girl who went to school, you didn’t have any features that made you stand out. You were just average.

At first you were convinced he did it because he felt bad, or it was a dare. But once you started actually dating, it felt real. He got you gifts, he let you borrow his sweaters, he showed you off to his friends like a trophy.

It all changed a few days before Will went missing.

He started to hang with you less, instead he hung out with Nancy Wheeler, she’s a smart girl, pretty too. Their friendship never really bothered you, you had close friends with boys like them, and you also didn’t wanna seem possessive.

They were really close, super. He didn’t ask you to come over, he didn’t get you anything, Jesus Christ he even forgot your anniversary. You didn’t mind it though. Maybe he was going through something? Maybe he was busy? Stressed over school maybe?

Maybe he needed space! Bingo, that was your answer, he needed space and you’ll give it to him.

Few days go by, Will goes missing.

So does he. Not missing like gone, but missing from your life. He’s barely there anymore, you guys barely acted like a couple. People thought you broke up and sent you pity stares across the halls.

You were walking through the woods, not really safe since Will went missing and his bike was found from the woods. But you needed fresh air, not outside your house type fresh air, but a night walk in the woods fresh air.

You didn’t know how you ended up in the back of Steve’s house.

There, you saw Steve and Nancy kissing.

You let out a gasp and stumble back, accidentally breaking a stick that makes a loud sound that makes them look outside.

You were hiding near a bush trying to hold in your gasps and tears.

,, are you okay?” you heard a timid voice

You look up to see Jonathan Byers.

,, yeah, just tripped.” You excuse, wiping the tears and snot on your face.

,, are you sure?” He holds out his hand to help you up.

,, yeah” you grab his hand and got up.

,, you’re Y/n right? You date Steve Harrington.” He points out

,, yeah but uh…”

,, I saw too.” he interrupts

,, …”

,, I’m sorry that you had to see that.” he apologized

,, it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” you looked at the ground.

,, I can walk you home? It’s dark out, and it’s dangerous to go out alone.” He stutters remembering what happened to his brother.

,, uh, sure, I’m sorry about your brother” you walked beside him.

,, Thank you.”

You both smile at each other as you walked in comfortable silence.

It’s been a few days since you saw Steve with Nancy. You obviously felt resentment towards Steve, but never to Nancy, no. You didn’t blame Nancy. And you did kind of understand why Steve cheated on you with Nancy. Nancy was wonderful, but you’d never blame it on her. Girls need to stick together right?

You ignored Steve, instead hung out with Jonathan. Which you enjoyed more. He comforted you, and you comforted him.

One day, Steve came in knocking on your door.

,, hey” he smiles

,, hi”

,, how are you?” He gushed

,, good, I guess” you answer him in a monotone voice.

,, okay what’s wrong with you?” He wondered

,, what’s wrong with me? What the fuck is going on with you Steve?” You swore

,, what do you mean?”

,, what do I mean? Don’t act like you didn’t fuck Nancy Wheeler the other night.” your eyes welling up with tears

,, babe please-“ he tries to grab your arm only for you to push him away

,, please what? What do you have to say for yourself? Steve you could’ve just told me that you didn’t want to anymore. You could’ve just broken it off, you didn’t have to go fuck another girl behind my back.” You argued, all your sadness has evaporated and was now replaced with anger.

,, Y/n, I was drunk please believe me.” He sobbed.

,, drunk? You were drunk Steve? You don’t have to fucking lie to me! I see the sparkle everytime you talk to Nancy Wheeler, I see how you’re interested in anything she says.” Steve stumbles back as you push him.

,, Why have YOU been hanging out with Jonathan Byers.” He asks, obviously trying to pin the blame on you.

,, I started hanging out with him because he was the one who helped me when I saw you with Nancy.” You stressed

,, Y/n-“

,, No Steve. I’m done, I’m done with you, because you are so hard to love. I think you just enjoyed the idea of being with someone, and not the idea of being with me.” You say as you shut the door.

Leaving him speechless standing in front of your house.

#angst #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x plus size reader #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x plus sized reader

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kickinganddriving · 2 years ago

Note

PLEASE A PRT 2 https://at.tumblr.com/dinonuggiesforliferz/somebody-else/hqhov7fgc4iu

Somebody Else pt. 2

Notes: Your wish is my command 🤠, this ain't a song fic, its a regular fic, also i don’t write smut, but if anyone wants to wrote the smut scene for this go for it!

Parings: Christian Pulisic x Fem reader

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing

Word count: 1k

Pt. 1

"Oh shit"

"I forgot he was coming over" You say in a panicked state.

"Who is coming over?" Christian says confused as ever.

"Sam"

"Fucking Sam" You both hear another knock at the door.

"Hey honey, let me in before the pizza gets cold"

"Shit, Christian, hide somewhere I have to go get the door" You say scrambling, trying to make sure that there is no evidence of Christian being here. You run up to the door and open it, faking a smile as you greet Sam.

"Hi Sam"

"Hey, where do you want me the put the pizza" He says as he greets you with a peck on the cheek

"On the counter is fine" He walks over and places the cardboard box on the counter before he looks down and notices a large grease stain on his shirt.

"Hey, I'm going to go and grab one of my extra shirts from your closet." Suddenly your brain goes into panic mode, you have no idea where Christian is hiding in your room, for all we know he could be in said closet.

"It's fine I can grab you one" You blurb out in hopes of trying to save yourself and Christian.

"No it's fine, you settle down and put on the movie" At this point he is already in your room and is walking to your closet, you run behind him and as he opens the door you hear.

"Hey jellybean, you have a very nice dress collection" Christian says in hopes of saving himself. Sam turns around to face you as Christian mouths an "I'm Sorry". All the shit has definitely hit the ceiling fan.

“Can you explain why there is a drenched soccer player in your closet?” Sam confusingly says.

“I think i’m going to head out” Christian awkwardly announces trying to give you and Sam some privacy.

“Ok” you whisper.

“I’ll come back later” Christian whispers in your ear as he passes by you.

When you hear the door close, you expect Sam to blow up at you, but instead you were met with uncomfortable silence. “It’s not what you think it is,” you squeak.

“Really it isn’t?” He scoffs.

“Me and Christian used to date, but we broke up around a year ago, well, he broke up with me so I could move back to the U.S, and I guess we both never got to get over each other. So when I saw him the other night something happened.”

“So you’re not over your ex, is that what this is. You were just half-heartedly leading me on”

“I’m sorry” You whisper.

“Sorry’s not enough, but go to him if you want because we are over.” Sam turned around to grab his extra clothes from your closet, and went to grab his coat as he stormed out of your apartment. There wasn’t even any time for you to say anything. All you could do was sit on the floor of your kitchen in silence, that was until you heard the doorbell ring again.

“It’s open” you dreadfully say.

“You know you should really keep your doors locked, I could have been a murderer” you hear as you see a familiar face walking through the door.

“I wouldn’t mind being murdered right now” you glumly say.

“I surely would mind” Chris says while acting offended.

“Can you get me the blanket that's on the sofa” you request.

“Sitting on the kitchen floor with a blanket? Well I haven’t seen that in 3 years, and I take it the break up didn’t go as planned?” He says as he picks up the blanket and brings it over to you.

“It didn’t” you muffle into the blanket as he drops it on you and joins you on the floor.

“Well at least you’ll never see him again”

“We work in the same building” You muffle again, but this time in his shoulder.

“Well that's rough, can I kiss you again?”

“What?” you say in confusion.

“Oh, i'm sorry I shouldn’t have asked this soon.” He says shamefully.

“No, you idiot, you should have just kissed me.” Once it registers in his head, Christian immediately pulls you on his lap and his lips meet yours. You stay in this position, your body moving perfectly with his. Until, he pulls away and is met with your angry face.

“Jellybean, it’s been a year since we fucked, and we aren’t doing it on the kitchen floor” he says as you rool off of him with a moan. He pulls you to stand up, after you are up he immediately lifts you up and princess carries you to your room.

“Im going to fuck you properly until you can’t walk, ok?” He says proudly as you reach the door frame of your room.

“Sign me the fuck up”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was the next morning, and you woke up in a way that felt so familiar, your head way lying on his chest, as you could hear his heartbeat, a sound that you have memorized. You felt a little squeeze as Christian nuzzled his nose in your hair. You made sure not to say a word or move an inch, not wanting to wake him up. You hear him yawn so you move your head up to look at him.

“Good Morning Jellybean” Christian sleepily says.

“Good Morning Chris” You respond

“I missed waking up like this," he says while leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“You most certainly did not miss this morning's breath, I need to go brush.” You say trying to roll off the bed, but then you realized you were completely naked. “Babe, are my clothes on your side?”

“Yep.” He says as he looks over the edge of the bed. You roll over Christian to grab your clothes but you're met with an unexpected guest. “I guess my friend also missed you”

“Even though I just saw him?”

“He needs to make up for time lost” Christian says, pulling you up to give you a kiss.

“I missed you”

-xoxo Gossip Girl

#christian pulisic #i miss him #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic x reader

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rocknrollflames · 1 year ago

Note

I’m curating a playlist on Spotify that’s dedicated to my hometown, Memphis, and I got so excited just now.

So I knew Otis Redding (one of my all-time fave singers) was discovered here (so to speak) and recorded here at Stax Records, but I guess I didn’t know to what extent. Like, so many of my favorite Otis Redding songs were recorded here—I’ve Been Loving You Too Long (To Stop Now), Try A Little Tenderness, Sittin' On the Dock of the Bay, and These Arms of Mine…just to name a few. 🖤

I’ve been to Graceland and toured Sun Records (where Elvis, Johnny Cash, and Jerry Lee Lewis all were discovered and recorded), but I’ve never been to Stax Records and done the tour there. I really need to. I also need to visit the Rock & Soul Museum, which is here too.

Sometimes, despite our issues here, I love being from Memphis. We have such a musical history and culture. I feel like that’s why I have such a love from deep in my soul for this music—the old Soul/Blues/50s & 60s rock. It’s in my DNA. 🎵

And we have the BEST BBQ IN THE COUNTRY. Fight me, you’ll lose. 😂

Ok, enough rambling about Memphis.

Love ya, sis. 🖤🍒🎵

Wow! I didn't know they also had a Rock & Soul Museum. That's so cool. I woiuld love to go there. I also still want to go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame of course, too, lol!

I love old rock and roll. The first rock and roll. It's the real deal. A lot of people don't understand how rock is a mixture of both country and blues. I would say both country and rhythm and blues, but that's not the way I see it. Because country has rhythm too.

If you go back and listen to some of the oldest rock you can hear and feel it. I think the thing about rock, and this is my opinion, is that it should make you kind of let go. When it first came out, it drove people crazy! I mean, people were worried about their kids cause they wouldn't stop dancing and listening to the radio and they thought they had lost their damn minds. Women would pass out. They would faint when they watched Elvis Presley or The Beatles. Guys would wear their hair and clothes like them cause they wanted to be them and couldn't get enough of them.

And I love both the Buddy Holly/Everly Brothers side of things as well as the Chuck Berry/Little Richard side of things. They both fit in, you know? I have nothing against new rock at all, but the thing I love about old rock is that you can dance to it. If you can't dance to it fast then you can still dance to it slow! Or at least get a really good sway on, you know? Ha!

I understand they whole, 'get really into the lyrics and try to decipher the meaning behind every word and every line in a song and what the writer meant when they wrote it', and I get the appeal of that to an extent. But - rock is also a feeling. Like, it doesn't have to make sense. It doesn't have to have a deep, profound meaning ALL of the time. But sometimes it definitely does! And rock and roll and rock and soul that is straightforward and tells it like it is, is sorely missed.

I love my symbolic and deep thinking lines - the songs that you can find some meany meanings to. But when you don't have to THINK that hard - if you can just kind of lose yourself in it - then THAT'S rock and roll. That to me, is the most rock and roll that there is.

And I think that 'rock and soul' makes so much sense. Because to me, there is such a fine line, you know? There is overlapping and there is sharing and sometimes it is just borderline. But it's all so cool. Anyway - I think that is so awesome you have been to Graceland and to Sun Records and now are going to Stax too!

(I finally ordered my shoes, lol! Been putting that off forever! I lost my discount! Anyway, now I have to get the Spotify all worked out. As soon as I do I want to listen to your Memphis playlist. Is it going to be songs by artists from Memphis or is it going to songs from artist who recorded or played in Memphis, or will there also be songs that mention Memphis? Like, 'Walking in Memphis' and doesn't 'Black Velvet' also mention Memphis?

I think it is great that you still live in Memphis. I know there are problems there but there is nothing I hate more than people having to leave their home because of things like that. It has such a rich heritage and it needs it's people to maintain that heritage.

As far as the BBQ - I believe you. I have heard that dry rub is used in Memphis and other parts of TN. In GA, people were always poor. We weren't TX who had the ranches and the beef so no one knew what the hell brisket was cause no one could afford a cow. That's why they had to use every single piece of the poor hog! Ha! So, GA is and has always been famous for the pulled pork - with Carolina Sauce of course. And it is crazy you just mentioned BBQ cause i just had some pulled pork with CS a couple of hours ago.

When I lived In CA there was a cool restaurant that had all kinds of BBQ from around the country. They called the pulled pork sandwich the Georgia Pulled Pork Sandwich, lol. It was the first time I ever got try brisket. And I tried dry rub ribs the first time in Chattanooga.

Okay, so I really blogged today. Keep me up to date on the museum and the playlist. Otis is so cool. I mean, he feels it. He rocks. He rocks and souls.

Love,

Sissy xoxo <3

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myloveforhergoeson · 1 year ago

Text

That's All She Wrote - Chapter 19

Chapter Index

Find me on wattpad + ao3!

Show: Big Time Rush

Pairing: James Diamond x Original Female Character

Chapter 19: No Sleep Till Brooklyn ~ 11k

Jo and Camille,

You’ll never believe who took my phone the first day of tour and refuses to give it back because “I have more important things to be focused on right now.”

I KNOW HE CHANGED MY LIFE BUT SOMETIMES I HATE GUSTAVO ROCQUE. And I’d never say I hate Kelly, but I am upset she let him do that… SOS!

Thanks to my expert negotiation skills, I’m allowed one call to my Dad per week - like this is some kind of prison or something - so I’m going to do my best to write letters to both of you in order to keep you updated.

While it took a long time for Gustavo, Kelly, and I to map out this tour path, I didn’t think about what it would mean to be crammed on a handful of buses with both the band and our musical accompaniment. Our lovely producer and talent scout get to take flights and stay in five-star hotels, but I’m okay to travel by bus. I’ve only been to Minnesota, Wisconsin, and California, so I’m excited to see the country this way. First stop - Orlando! In three days!

We booked three buses, one for the musical accompaniment (technically I’m one of them I suppose, but the boys say they hate road trips with Logan, so I just snuck onto the bus he’s on to keep him company), and two for the band. Each one has three tiny bunks, some couches, a full bathroom, most of a kitchen, and plenty of cabinet space for snacks, games, and anything we could possibly need. For now, I’m writing from the couch, sitting next to a napping Logan, and Carlos is up front making friends with the driver, Henrietta. The other bus is currently transporting Kendall and James.

Speaking of, after Gustavo told us the tour was back on after the concert when I came running to you two to tell you what had happened, James practically ran straight to 2-J to pack and hasn’t spoken to me since. I thought I had done everything right but I guess maybe he wasn’t actually into me after all. Maybe just the thrill of surviving a kidnapping?

“I lived through this so now I can kiss Roxy!”

Blegh.

Though, I suppose it might be a good thing… After thinking about it while I was packing I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now, if that’s even something he’s interested in. Sure, I like him, but I think I still need some time to get over what Dak did to me. As much as I don’t enjoy thinking about it, they bare many similarities and that scares me a bit more than I’d like to admit.

Pop stars

Can be self-absorbed

‘Cuda extra strength hairspray

Pretty

I should probably quit while I’m ahead, but I guess I’m gonna learn my lesson if I keep playing with fire and then promptly getting burned.

All my love,

Roxy

***

Hey,

It was so humid in Orlando that it took me an extra hour to fix my hair before the show, but other than that, we had a lot of fun! I’m really proud of the show we put together and getting to perform for a new crowd all the way across the country was so surreal. There are people who know all the words to my songs, more than willing to scream them right in my face… If only that pesky boy band wasn’t in the way.

Just kidding!

Today, we’re heading to Mansfield, Massachusetts - one whole day on the bus and a show tomorrow. I’d look up some facts about the town to share but, you know, no phone or whatever. Warden Rocque hasn’t changed his mind even after the combination of pleading from the five of us…

Before the show in Orlando, I got to talk with the guys in the musical accompaniment band a bit more, they were super nice! Mick, the bass player, is pretty quiet and mostly hangs out with Gustavo and Kelly since they’re old friends, but Austin, the drummer, is our age and easy to get along with! He goes to a performance arts high school in Los Angeles called Hollywood Arts (Can you believe that’s a real thing?! A whole school just for acting, singing, and growing musical talent?!)

Austin and I have somewhat similar music taste, and his father taught him how to play the drums, just like my dad taught me how to play the guitar! We’re alike in many ways, and since 1/4 of Big Time Rush wants to ignore me right now, I think I’ll be spending more time with him…

It’s bad that I thought James might kiss me again at the show last night, right? I stood in the same spot side-stage, putting on the same lipstick and everything, but he and the band just ran past me on the way to the other side of the venue. I wonder if he told them what happened; everyone else is being normal to me.

Logan says he misses you so much, Camille! Quickly followed by a panicked statement, “Not that I don’t care about Jo, it’s just different!” Kendall joined us on the bus today, swapping out with Carlos, and said, “Tell Jo I vow to get my phone back so I can call her again,” and when I asked him why he didn’t write you letters too, he claimed that stamps were too expensive. Perhaps your boyfriend is both illiterate and broke, Jo, and for that I’m sorry.

See you soon, even if soon isn’t soon enough,

Roxy

***

Thought of you both today, and it made me so happy,

We just arrived in Agawam, Massachusetts, which is only two hours away from Mansfield, so we had a quick show turnaround for the day.

I never knew going on tour was so exhausting, it’s like I’m constantly running around the venues, checking our equipment, making sure the proper snacks are in the band’s green rooms, or seeing if the stage crew needs any help. We have two big eighteen-wheelers to carry all of our stage equipment… I can’t imagine being in charge of all that stuff - the stage manager is a saint!

This morning, Gustavo dragged us out of the bus around 6 am to get to a local radio station so the band could promote their show tonight live on the air. They even gave a pair of tickets away to a fan, it was so fun to watch and reminded me a bit of my radio days. I might call my old boss and ask her if BTR can get on Project Pop when we finish our tour in Duluth.

While the band was working out with our athletic trainer to keep in shape for the show this evening, I hung out with Austin a bit more. He was nice enough to show me his drum kit and I think I’m going to ask him to teach me how to play if we have some free time. It looks a lot more fun than the piano, plus I get to hit things. Drums are a crucial part of instrumental songwriting, and I could really use the knowledge of a seasoned drummer to help me learn.

James saw us together today when he made his way to the stage to warm up for the show, and I might be overexaggerating but I think he was a bit put off by it. I thought about talking to him about it, not that I need to ask if it's okay or justify who I hang out with, but I actually think he and Austin would get along really well if he could stand to be in the same room as me for more than 5 minutes.

I think it should be illegal to kiss someone and then promptly ignore them. What if I wanted to kiss him again? And again? And again?

Anyway, I wish mail traveled fast enough that you two could send me replies and I’d be guaranteed to get them at the next venue. It feels a bit like I’m writing to a brick wall here, but it certainly keeps me occupied during our very rare downtime. The couch on this bus has become my unspoken spot (the bunks are too narrow and small for me to feel comfortable in them) and I need to do more than just sleep here, listen to my iPod, or write/play my guitar.

Until the next letter,

Rox

***

Hello!

Too many things happened today for me to record before the show, I’m writing you two a nice list as we drive away to our next stop.

James rode the bus with Logan and me today (a two-hour ride to Saratoga Springs, New York) and the two of them ignored me almost the entire time and just played their stupid video game on the TV. All I got was a “Hey, Rox, can we use the couch?” and some semblance of a thank you when I told him yes. Ugh. Is “Hey, Rox, remember when I kissed you last week? Wasn’t that so awesome? Wanna do it again?” too much for him now? It feels like I sucked all of his fun, flirty, carefree attitude straight out of his body.

I asked Austin if he could teach me how to play the drums and he said yes, as long as I helped him write a song for a fun summer project. Apparently, a good chunk of the kids at his school are songwriters too, how neat! If they write something like a short scene of a play, a song, or a musical composition and present it in the first few weeks of school, they get extra course credit. I wish the Palm Woods school had something like that - I’d be rocking straight A’s the entire year.

It was finally time for me to call my dad today, as per Warden Rocque’s direction, and he’s doing okay. Nothing ever changes with him, so I’m pretty at ease as we travel. Kelly let me put him on the guest list for the Duluth show, and even though I know he won’t really like our music, I think he’ll admire the production. He always wanted to tour around the country, and I hope showing him some backstage magic can help satisfy the teenage rocker he used to be. Maybe it’ll be a good time for him to meet Kendall, Logan, and Carlos too!

The band was recognized in public for the first time today while we were waiting in line for coffee! I’m not sure if the girl posted the photo I happily took of her and the boys to ScuttleButter, but I hope you two can find it so you can see their dazzling, shocked smiles. They were beyond ecstatic; Carlos spilled most of his drink from how hard his hands were shaking with adrenaline. Good thing he wasn’t wearing his concert outfit or Gustavo would’ve thrown a fit.

I was hoping to sneak away and take a train to New York City since we got here so early in the morning, but that is what happened instead. We’re playing Madison Square Garden near the end of the tour, so I’ll see the city then, but I’m worried I’ll be too tired and burnt out to enjoy it.

Warm wishes,

Roxy

***

Friends,

Sorry for the lack of letters these past few days! We’ve been so busy getting from New York to Oklahoma, we haven’t stopped anywhere with a mailbox I could easily find. You know what would make it easier for me to find a post office? Having my phone.

I’ve probably complained about that enough, right?

Over the course of this particular trip, I’ve been traveling with Logan and Carlos and I’m beginning to understand why the boys claim road trips with Logan are tough. He has a pretty strict expectation for cleanliness, which Carlos and I do not adhere to at all - but in helping clean up and placing things in their bunks to help put a rest to Logan’s anxiety this afternoon, I learned he has a picture of you, Camille, tapped to the top of his bunk. It’s been pretty well hidden by the curtain he keeps drawn, but I caught a glimpse of it this afternoon. So romantic!!! I imagine Kendall has something similar of you, Jo, but I’ll have to wait until he’s back in rotation with us to double-check.

I wonder if it’s exhausting for the other three to keep moving around, or if they prefer it that way. For me, I like knowing that Bus 1 is my bus… Having to haul all my stuff from one bus to another feels like an excellent way to lose some of my things.

Do you think if James and I were together he’d have a picture of me in his bunk? The thought of him falling asleep to dreams of me… Seems impossible. And exhausting to work for. If he’s going to be all hot and cold like this, I’m not sure I’d be able to take it, but on the other hand, it’s not like I’m communicating with him either because whenever I even try to bring up anything related to us at all, I freeze up and all the thoughts exit my brain before I can get a word out. Maybe we are made for each other after all since neither of us seems to want to get a word out… The pretty idiot and his idiot songwriter… Haha….

On a separate note, after the show in Tulsa tonight, the band, our bosses, and the musical accompaniment will be headed straight to the airport to catch a flight to Del Mar, California for our next show there in four days. Due to my flight aversion, I get to stay with the buses and gear and travel on the ground to meet them there. It will be interesting to see how I fare, considering I’ve been around the band 24/7 for the last two weeks. Maybe I’ll be able to work on some music distraction-free. I have a few works in progress, both about guys I really don’t want to think about, but once this tour cycle is over there’s no doubt we’re going to begin the process all over again for album 2.

Just paused writing this to pull out my journal and write “All Over Again” down on a blank page. That sounds like a wonderful song title.

Talk again soon,

Roxy

***

Guess what?

I was right about getting in some quality songwriting time. With the near silence of the bus, besides the intermittent strumming of my guitar and terrible singing of my own lyrics to the musical background track in my head, I think I’ve finally finished Til I Forget About You, even if the title isn’t all that accurate.

In fact, the title isn’t accurate in the slightest. In these last four days, I don’t think I’ve ever thought about Dak more. There’s been lots of frustrated yelling, crying, ripping and crumpling of pages of my journal on the floor… I don’t know how Taylor Swift makes writing break-up songs look so easy. She’s been who I pray to when I get stuck on a line or can’t figure out which chord I like better.

Between Gustavo’s and my affinity for pop music, when I write from the deep recesses of my heart, I find myself bringing out my rock roots. There’s nothing better than the feeling of guitar blasting from the speakers so loud you can feel it rattling around in your rib cage, filling up your ears and leaving them ringing for days on end, and that is the feeling I’ve been coasting on these few days…

It reminds me of my dad and I think that’s why it helps me feel better. Growing up on the heels of his time in the rock scene in Texas, then discovering the punk scene in Minnesota, he was always using his free time to replicate the sounds he’d hear at shows to play for me on his days off. He would tell me all the time that I was such a smiley, giggly kid, as long as his guitar was out - so the minute I was old enough to hold one in my hands he bought me one and taught me to play.

When I was finally old enough to go to shows with him, I always loved the contrast between our looks - my mainstream, bright-colored clothing straight out of TeenVogue and his old, beat-up black band t-shirts blending in with the dark ink on his forearms and even darker jeans and Doc Martins. Was a crowded basement in a random suburb miles away from our house, filled with drunk 20 to 30-somethings and a lineup of 7 different bands in one night really the safest place for a 13-year-old girl? Certainly not, but he always kept me safe and gave me a space to foster my own music taste just like he was afforded as a teenager.

Phew. That was a long-winded way of saying that I’m finally starting to find myself getting over the pain Dak caused me through my music, and I’m really lucky Big Time Rush has given me the space to explore this. Not that Til I Forget About You is an incredible, unmatched rock song - it is still very much a pop song, which I love just as much - but it is, for all intents and purposes, mine.

I miss both of you so much, and I cannot wait to see you again.

Roxy

***

Greetings,

One thing always seems to lead to another. In Del Mar, we finally had an actual, honest-to-God day of rest yesterday and the band asked if I wanted to go to the beach with them. Of course, I agreed, because it felt close to chilling by the Palm Woods pool, but once we got there I quickly learned that the trip everyone took without me brought Austin and the boys closer together. Which is fine, that’s what I wanted in the first place, but now, it feels like I’ve lost my touring buddy.

They spent the entire day surfing (where did these boys learn how to surf?), playing volleyball, and trying to pick up dates, and basically left me to my own devices to watch our stuff. I even wore my best bikini top (purple!) in hopes maybe, just maybe, it would bother James a bit, but I’m not sure he even noticed as he kept trying to play wingman for Carlos and Austin all day. I guess he decided no one on the beach was interesting enough to try and pick up.

Something I did notice, not that it matters at all, but Austin had a bit of trouble in the sun all day. Logan said that he was displaying symptoms of hypoglycemia, and he and I had to help Austin back to our stuff at one point after he nearly toppled over from how shaky his legs were. Eventually, we were able to get a few sodas in him, and he claimed to be right as rain, but it was pretty scary. I know it’s not right of me to ask him what I can do to help if he ever needed it because if he wanted me to share, he would have told me, but it was a bit hard not to take note of the small, off-white pod attached to his deep almond abdomen when he took his shirt off.

Typically, I’d just look it up in private to confirm my own thoughts, but I don’t get my phone for another few days. For now, though, or until he’s comfortable talking about it, I stopped into a corner store on the way back to our buses to grab some snacks that I think would help if his blood sugar were to drop unexpectedly again. Now I just pray nothing punctures the small juice boxes I put in a plastic bag or the hard fruit candies don’t spill out and stick to anything.

And on top of all of that, despite applying copious amounts of sunscreen, I managed to burn my legs. Goodbye shorts and skirts, hello pants I was saving for the colder climates. I tried to take a page out of Hayley Williams’ style book and go for shorts and fitted tees or crop tops as my go-to stage look - adding in jewelry, belts, tights, whatever to switch up my looks day to day, but now I guess I’ll be looking more like Gwen Stefani circa 1995 with my small shirts and big pants.

The show went off without a hitch and we’re off to Central Point, Oregon now, and hopefully once things get back to normal I can get my tour buddy back.

Rox

***

Girls!!!!

I know you’re both from the east coast, and I am obviously so Midwest, but there is just something about the crisp, Oregon air that makes me long for a different hometown. If I grew up here, beautiful Central Point, I think (in addition to being a major league hippie) I might have led a very different life. It’s strange to think about, and I’m incredibly grateful for my current life, but can you imagine if I was the owner of a quaint crystal shop on the edge of the evergreen forests of this state, or if I hand knit sweaters, tye-dying them all crazy, fun colors to sell to tourists. One pretty prominent radio station, Talk Radio Network, is based here, so maybe I’d still be Rockin’ Roxy out here too…

It’s a quiet town, however, not like Duluth or Los Angeles, and it’s pretty far from Portland. My dad always told me he wanted to visit there - apparently, they have a thriving music community in that town.

That’s all I have in the way of updates. After tonight’s show, we’re on our way back to California to the town of Turlock. Kelly, Gustavo, and I could have been a bit more coordinated when booking shows, but we were desperate enough to take whatever we could get, even if it meant extra travel time.

Extra travel time, however, means I have more time to think about the dumpster fire that is my love life as I am now trapped in a bus with James once again. Maybe he and Logan will play that stupid game again and leave me alone as I write.

Speaking of, here’s a few lines I’m working on. What do you think?

I see you walking, but all you do is pass me by,

Can’t even talk, ‘cause words don’t come into my mind,

I’d make a move if I had the guts to,

But I’m paralyzed

Best,

Roxy

***

Good morning, or evening, or whatever the appropriate time may be,

I’m so sorry I skipped out on letters these past few days, our show turnaround time has been insane, and I’ve been doing my best to keep up with my assistant-ly duties to the best of my ability - meaning I’ve had no time to myself in the last four days. Since I last wrote, we’ve been to Turlock, California, Costa Mesa, California, Kansas City, Missouri, and are presently pulling away from Harrington, Delaware.

A list of things of note for you:

In Turlock, Carlos ran over to me during the show and asked me if I wanted to sing. I said absolutely not and he ran off again. Then in Costa Mesa, he ran up to me during City is Ours and asked me to shout “There they are!” into his microphone after the “We pull up, open the door, all the girls scream-” line, while the rest of the band held theirs out to the crowd. They’re really taking this show and making it theirs, and it’s lovely to see. As I write this, Carlos just informed me I’ll be doing that every night with that big, goofy grin of his that makes it impossible for me to even think about saying no.

We did a radio show in each city, and the questions these interviewers come up with in order to be different from one another are just insane. Though, one of the hosts did ask them if they had anyone special waiting for them back home - it gave Logan a chance to stutter his way around the question (Camille… Make it official with him already!) and Kendall the opportunity to monologue about Jo for, like, five minutes. I would’ve recorded it had I had a device on hand capable of doing so (yeah I’m not done complaining). By the time he was done, the interview had nearly ended, so Carlos squeaked out “I have four special people!” and I think he meant the Jennifers and Stephanie (Is Stephanie back yet?). James (blegh!) said “Anyone willing to wait on me is special,” like the true teen idol he is. Any girl willing to wait on him… I pity her.

My drum lessons started in Kansas City after the band managed to rope Austin into a game of pickup while the buses were unloading. Who puts a basketball hoop outside of a music venue and expects anyone to get anything done? Regardless, it was a lot of fun and Austin is a pretty attentive teacher - far better than grouchy Gustavo when he was going over piano basics. There’s a lot I can learn from him! We also started writing his song, a fun, simple summer song about the beach and girls and whatnot… I’m excited to see this project through with him.

Gustavo and Kelly wrote a note on the daily itinerary sheets they give the band and I that we’re currently headed to Denver, Colorado, where we’ll have two days off from performing to do interviews, radio shows, news slots, the whole nine yards. Apparently, news outlets come to us, not the other way around, and they’re very excited to talk to America’s next top boy band. We’ll be doing a few live acoustic performances as well, meaning the guys and I, on camera, filmed for the whole world to see. Let’s hope I don’t mess up.

Miss you endlessly!

Roxy

***

Greetings from the Mile High City,

The press day, the boys claimed, was “hella exciting” and “beyond epic”... I’d describe it more like “waking nightmare” if anyone bothered to ask me. All they had to do was sit there, look pretty, answer some questions or play silly games, and sing. I, on the other hand, was lost in an endless pile of media release forms for every news outlet to approve, combing through the Gustavo pre-approved questions the interviewers were going to ask the boys, keeping their refreshments well stocked so they never ran out of water and choked on a dry throat when they went to answer questions… My work is never-ending!

Definitely one of the worst days on this tour for me, though, I wouldn’t choose it over having to go back and rewrite Til I Forget About You. Speaking of, in my previous letter I forgot to mention a particularly important line that I keep repeating to myself whenever I find my thoughts unpleasantly flickering to Dak… Or at this point, to James.

I found a place where I can lose myself,

And just leave your memory on the shelf,

See? I’m fine, no, I don’t need nobody else.

The punctuation is subject to change, but for now, I’m quite certain I don’t need anyone else in my life. I’m fine just being Roxy for a while… Even if my thoughts often turn into Roxy and James.

Not to toot my own horn, but the song is very good, and I can’t wait to record it once we get back from tour. I think that’ll be a good point to mark my “getting over it” progress.

Something I forgot to mention about these interviews, that I now realize as we pull away from the Denver venue and off to Eureka, Missouri, is I’m actually learning so much about the band by sitting and listening in. They almost never talk about their lives before Hollywood, because the four of them have (as I learned today) known each other since they were four years old. From first meeting at a Pee-Wee hockey league game all the way to playing varsity hockey at MAHS, they’ve been with each other almost their entire lives. Most of the interviewers ask really good, clear questions, that lead the boys down a path that gets them talking and reminiscing on themselves - something they rarely speak about when the others are around. Today (among other things) I also learned Carlos is fluent in Spanish, Logan was really into ventriloquy in middle school, Kendall is allergic to kiwi, and James is the heir to the Brooke Diamond Cosmetics company.

I should have put two and two together on the last one, he’s insanely beautiful and the last name “Diamond” isn’t exactly very common, but remembering what he’s told me about his mom and now knowing she’s Brooke Diamond?? The Este Lauder of the Midwest?? accounts for a lot of his behavior.

A few years ago, there was a big scandal that hit the front page of all the Duluth papers, news stations, radio waves, etc., claiming that BDC’s top model, and Brooke’s husband, Blake Diamond, was caught having an affair with a woman half his wife’s age. On top of that being insanely disgusting, it was in the news for weeks, announcing the Diamond divorce, explaining the court hearings and who got what, all leading up to Blake and his girlfriend eloping to Vegas and getting married the minute he and Brooke were officially split.

What does that do to a budding teenager? Chew them up and spit them out a completely new person. No wonder James never talks about his parents, or his home(s). The only time I learned something about his family was after the dance when he told me his mom made him break up with his boyfriend and when we were back in Minnesota he vaguely told me his parents were separated.

God, I cannot imagine what that must have/still feels like for him. Knowing that he had Kendall, Logan, and Carlos to help him through it makes me feel better, though.

I think, among other reasons, that might have been why he helped get us back to Hollywood a few days before the big concert. Either returning home to his successful mother as a failure or returning home to stay with a cheater and his new wife…

Phew. That was a long one. Every time I send one of these I can feel the two of you mentally cursing me for my wishy-washy gushy James feelings - trust me, it’s just as exhausting for me to think I’m fine alone one day, then want him so badly the next. Please bear with me while I figure this all out.

Wish you were here,

Roxy

***

Eureka!

Somewhere in the middle of Kansas, Kendall woke me up from my lazy couch nap to tell me he wants to learn how to play the guitar.

“That’s great,” I said. “I’d love to teach you, but all my guitars are strung left-handed.”

Bless his heart, he cocked his head and asked, “Why does that matter?”

“Well. I’m left-handed. You’re not. It’s a completely different learning process.”

“Do you know how many hockey players play left-handed, even though they’re right-hand dominant?”

Of course, I don’t. But, in the small second I had to think about it, I realized that there are plenty of famous guitar players that do that too… kind of. Many left-handed guitar players just learn right-handed because left-hand guitar equipment isn’t produced near as much or to the same quality and standards as right-handed equipment!

Thankfully, my dad is left-handed too, so he knew where to get the proper things in order for me to play when I was little, but it was I who took it upon myself to learn how to restring a guitar to fit my own needs. When I was 12, there was this beautiful oak wood acoustic in the local music shop, but it was strung right-handed. The owner didn’t know how to restring it (claiming no one had ever asked him to before, but I just think he was lazy), so I convinced my dad to buy it, a pack of new strings, and a tool kit, and I took it apart, then put everything back everything completely opposite - worked like a charm, until I sold it a few years later to get my electric acoustic.

In all, I’m excited to teach Kendall but I’ll have to find the time in between my assistant duties and my own drum lessons. The request was a bit out of the blue, however, and I wanted to ask him why, but he was too busy buzzing to Logan about it after I told him yes. Maybe he’s trying to learn a skill that will set him apart from the other band members.

After tonight’s show, we’ve got another one tomorrow before another press day, then a stretch of three more shows back to back. It’ll be tiring, but at least we’re having fun. Playing shows is rewarding beyond measure, and hard for me to put into words, but the connection the band has to their audience is unmatched. The way they can make thousands of people get up and dance, sing, let loose… It’s a beautiful sight - one I’m so lucky to be able to witness almost every night.

Maybe you can find some clips on SnoobTube,

Roxy

***

Girls, I’m running out of clever greetings,

I AM SO TIRED.

Columbus, Ohio, along with being a boring city in the world, also happened to be the same place our press day was taking place - meaning we were there for two days too long. Then, we had our three-day tour stint.

On day one, one of our eighteen-wheelers containing half of the stage set up was late. So, guess who, on top of making sure the boys were situated in their green rooms and had everything they requested, had to assist with tech setup I knew nothing about, got to run the soundcheck almost completely alone, and explain to Gustavo the boys had to go on a few minutes later than anticipated :)

On day two, I learned more about the boys. Maybe I’m being dumb and petty, but I think it’s a bit strange that much of my knowledge of them is now coming from these interviews - they’re sharing important things, that I think as their friend I should have the right to have known about beforehand. They know I’ve been struggling to get good at the piano for months now and guess who I learned has been playing all his life? James. Would it have killed him to maybe offer a helping hand? In addition, I found out Logan’s favorite food is toast. Just… plain toasted bread and butter… Kendall’s dream pet, apparently, is a goat because he misses the one we rented at the School of Rocque so much and Carlos doesn’t think Antarctica is real. I wish I could’ve stopped him before he said that during a live interview, but you win some, and you lose some. I was too busy handling all the paperwork and helping the next news outlet set up to get the interviews done as quickly as possible to get in his way.

On day three, we made it to Clearfield, Pennsylvania, a cute town that runs along a beautiful river I discovered on a walk in the morning. Sometimes being cooped up in a bus all night gets old, so when the boys work out in the morning, I wander as far as I think I can before Gustavo and Kelly realize I’m missing. The show that night was great, but Kendall ripped his pants jumping off one of my amps, and everyone in the first few rows got to see his underwear. I’m not sure he’ll be living that one down for a while.

On day four, we rolled into West Allis, Wisconsin around 6 am, where we were promptly escorted off the bus and into a local radio station, who called Gustavo the previous evening and practically begged for a Big Time Rush live acoustic performance. So, Mick and Austin got to sleep in, while I grabbed my acoustic guitar and drowsily followed the boys into the studio, languishing in the familiar smell of Lake Michigan - So close to Lake Superior back in Duluth! We performed three songs, Big Time Rush, Stuck (of course…), and Any Kind of Guy acoustic. Honestly, my stage skills are getting better with each performance, and I think it’s because the guys make me feel so relaxed when we play together. Whenever I performed with Brand New Day, I was always trying too hard to impress Dani, and more importantly, Mag, so playing always took a ton of effort. But with Big Time Rush, I feel so at ease, and I’m able to let loose and have fun. The only thing that caught me off guard today was James derailing the interview before Stuck to dedicate it to “Any girl who feels like they’re invisible… Don’t worry, I see you.”

Dedicating a song you didn’t even write to a person it’s not even about? Barf. Those words keep rattling around in my brain and I wish I could kick them straight out, but I’ve been dwelling on them for days.

On day five, we took a ferry (!!) to Midland, Michigan, while our eighteen-wheelers had to take the long way around, through Illinois and Indiana. Since our stage equipment didn’t arrive until the later part of the day, I pulled out two of my guitars stored away in Bus 1 in order to give Kendall his first lesson at the venue. Since Carlos bunked with Logan and me the night before, the boys decided to switch buses for a few hours, which meant I had to deal with an insane amount of James' side eye as he went about making his breakfast in the small kitchen.

If he’s got a problem with me hanging around my friends, he’s no better than Dak and I’m certainly not going through that again. He kisses me a few times and now thinks he has some weird possessive thing over me? Absolutely not. I’m just so done with him, I don’t understand how just a month and a half ago we shared a journey that literally altered the course of our lives, and now, here he is, acting as though it meant nothing to him.

Maybe I need to get out of the celebrity dating pool - if this tour has taught me anything it certainly is the fact that all my friends are famous and I am not.

Yeah. What a downer of a letter this turned into,

Roxy

***

Send lots of caffeine and my giant stuffy puppy to Fairlea, West Virginia, please!

I’m too exhausted to write out a better greeting, so this letter begins with the truth. There were many times over the last three days I sat down to write this, but every day I ended up falling asleep in the middle. Last night, Logan had to physically remove the pen from my hand while I slept as I was apparently in danger of poking my eye out.

In three days we’ve been to Hamburg, New York, Indianapolis, Indiana, and Peru, Illinois. Another day without seeing the Big Apple, another day in a big city that makes me miss Los Angeles, and another day in a city where if the name and state weren’t written down on our call sheets I might be so tiredly deluded I think we’re in a different country.

Kendall, Logan, Carlos, and James are natural-born performers. I, on the other hand, am starting to believe that I may not be cut from a similar cloth. Something inside of them keeps them on the go, go, go, and I would love to know just what it is that makes them tick. The only thing keeping me motivated right now is getting to hear the crowd sing along to my songs every single night. It sounds a bit cheesy to write out, but it’s true! To know all of our hard work writing, recording, and rehearsing, is paying off and reaching corners of the U.S. we didn’t even know existed! And that people are buying our album… So I’ll have a nice cushion of a retirement plan when I’m older…

That, and my lessons of course! Austin has been so cool about helping me learn the drums, and I think I’m getting pretty good even though I’ve only had a few moments of practice. That, and we even had enough time to work on our song more, which is surprisingly almost complete… That boy can write! My goal is to write a drum section for one of my songs all by myself. Normally, Gustavo is able to take my lyrics and guitar melodies and write in drums, bass, piano, or whatever else we think is necessary to execute our grand vision, so for once, I’d like to fill in a new instrument and save him some time which would probably also equate to saving him some time yelling at our other band members.

Guitar lessons with Kendall have been going well too, though I’m not sure he’s very fond of me as a teacher. I’ve struggled to put together little exercises for him to practice because I barely remember learning guitar myself. Maybe I can talk to my dad about it on our next call.

Oh! And Carlos and I invented a game today!

We call it Honk Bonk, and you play it exactly how it sounds. Any time a car in traffic honks, you bonk the closest person on the head with something near you. My weapon of choice, of course, is my journal, and the boys are already used to bonking from that, though someone did honk during Kendall’s lesson today… I was tempted but alas, he needs to stay pretty so he can date my best friend. And sell more albums.

I hope you’re both well, I can’t wait to get back home to see you,

Roxy

***

Panicking! I spent all of today panicking!

This morning, Logan and Kendall shook me awake around 3 am to tell me that it was James’ birthday. TODAY.

I had a few thoughts on this. 1. Why didn’t any of the band mention this until we were three hours into the day? 2. Where the hell am I supposed to get party supplies on a moving bus rolling into Fairlea, West Virginia? 3. How am I going to survive an entire day centered around the guy I’m doing my very best not to think about? 4. Is James mature enough to be the first of us to turn seventeen?

Thank God James was on the other bus because if he had heard the ideas Logan, Kendall, and I had in order to surprise James the minute we stopped at the next venue…

Here was what we came up with:

If you cut up little pieces of colored paper, it kinda looks like confetti. The colored paper in question? Three of the front and back covers of books Logan had brought and finished in the first part of the tour. Kendall had to physically restrain him as I did this.

I’m a songwriter - when in a pinch, write a song. The three of us quickly devised a little spin on the traditional happy birthday song to surprise James with on stage later that blends into the traditional song everyone knows. Hopefully, an entire stadium of people singing to him is a good enough gift.

We can take old tour itineraries from the previous towns, a Sharpie, and some of the bungee chords holding our equipment down during travel to make a HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMES banner.

The bus was stocked with enough items to make Oreo Fluff salad, thanks to the miracle that is pudding cups, but not a real cake… He seemed to enjoy it when he came to tell me we were going back to L.A. after a few hours in Duluth. I don’t have any green food coloring, however, so it was boring black and white.

A sub point - around 6 am I begged the bus driver, Henrietta, to let me use her phone and call a Fairlea local bakery and express order a cake to bring out on stage. I also managed to call the venue and ask them to pick up some cupcakes to be waiting in the green room when we arrived and put up any party supplies they had on hand.

It was exhausting, like most things on this tour I guess, but once we rolled into town everything had been squared away, our efforts were well worth it.

Did you know that when James smiles, like really smiles, he has the most adorable dimples that carve right into his cheeks?

A smile that makes me breathless. A smile that remained on his face all day as we surprised him with our homemade banner, confetti, and treats. A smile plastered on his face the entire show, especially when we surprised him with our song, cake, and the entire crowd sang him happy birthday.

When the show ended, the band freshened up and went to meet some fans out by the front of the venue, and I had to run back into the bus and record my journal entry and write this letter, as I currently am before they came back.

My journal entry contained the word “James” like 40 times.

GOD! He ignores me almost all of the tour, speaking to me only about the essentials or whatever's going on around us on our days off, I finally decide he isn’t into me and I should just chill out for a bit, and now I’m suddenly all about him again. Maybe it’s just because I’m around him literally every day… Maybe it’s because I felt a hint of (healthy! Definitely healthy!) jealousy when he looked at everyone singing to him on stage and in the crowd except for me… Ugh.

We’re on for another multi-day stretch of shows, so please forgive me for fewer letters as the days go on,

Roxy

***

Look I know I said I’d be sending fewer letters but I NEED to tell you guys this.

After arriving in Farmingville, New York, around 9ish in the morning, I was abruptly awoken to the sound of Gustavo yelling at the band about who knows what. Apparently, this pissed them off so much they came storming onto my bus, told me to get ready as fast as I could, and thirty minutes later we were sneaking out of the venue and into a taxi that drove us right into the heart of Manhattan.

We messed around the city for the ENTIRE DAY and Gustavo had no way of finding us since he had our phones. Finally, we got to be the tourists instead of the attraction, before getting back to the venue before the show started.

Once the taxi dropped us off right outside of Time Square, Logan had the brilliant idea for each of us to pick one thing we wanted to do, and do our best to complete them before the end of the day. The list is as follows:

Kendall wanted to go to the top of the Empire State Building

Logan wanted to visit the Morgan Library

Carlos wanted to see Spider-Man

James (after loudly complaining we couldn’t see something on Broadway) wanted to take a sightseeing cruise around the bay to see the Statue of Liberty

I wanted to see the musical instrument display at the MET and I convinced everyone to join me for a lunch picnic in Central Park.

Today was literally perfect, though I did feel a bit bad about leaving Austin and Mick back at the venue to run the soundcheck without me.

Besides admiring the thousands of advertisements roving around the Square, the first thing we did was hit the Morgan Library. The architecture was just breathtaking and it was amazing to see the carefully curated collection of historical documents. They even had musical manuscripts and printed forms of music from nearly one hundred years ago… I wonder how a boy band in 1909 would look… Or if my journals will be on display in 2109… Scary!

Not as scary as the top of the Empire State Building, though!

It was so cold and windy up there, even in the middle of the summer. I practically had to cling to Carlos’ arm to feel even a little bit stable, but of course, he wanted to get right up to the very edge of the building and look straight down. Kendall and Logan wanted to join him (one to spit off the edge and the other to try and calculate how far away the second tallest building in NY was) so I got passed off to James. Would it have killed him to put his arm around me and tell me it would be alright? Jesus. He just stood there, silently looking off into the distance while I clutched at his arm. Message received: He isn’t into me.

The rest of the day was fun and I wanted to write more but now I’m a bit sad after writing that. All I really want to do is go to bed now; I’ll tell you about it when we meet again, I guess.

Roxy

***

Daddy,

Tour is hard. So hard. And I feel so stupid for thinking that I was cut out for this kind of thing. Songwriters are for the studio, not the stage. I’ve spent so much time around the guys I’m starting to go crazy. You and I always talked about traveling if we had the money, and let me tell you one day per city is hardly enough to even say that I’ve been here. It’s not cross-country exploration if I haven’t explored five minutes past the closest coffee shop because I can barely keep my eyes open without caffeine.

I’m constantly tired. My back hurts from sleeping on the couch. My fingers are so sore. My eyes are dry from the incessant spotlight lighting us up for thousands of people every night. The next person to ask me for something might get their head bitten off if they don’t say “please?”

Just because I’m an assistant doesn’t mean I get to be walked all over.

The applause is nice though, hearing everyone sing along to my songs even in parts of the country I’ve never even heard of… Maybe that’s enough to get me to Duluth.

I can’t wait to see you. Sorry for the depressing letter, I’m having a hard time being away from both of my homes.

Promise you’ll listen to the setlist before you see us?

I hope I’m making you proud,

Roxanne

***

Hi.

The shows in Lima, Ohio, and Falcon Heights, Minnesota were great. Our friends are just so talented. It was hard being so close to Duluth, and I invited my dad to the show last minute, but he wasn’t able to make it.

We’re driving to Essex, Vermont now - 13 hours into a 20-hour journey.

The weather out here has been awful, it’s been thunder storming nonstop, so we haven’t been making as many stops as we usually have. Just my luck I’m stuck with Logan and James, and I’ve been writing a song all day.

It’s a song for James’ invisible girls… More accurately, a song full of words I wish he would say to me.

Am I out of mind, or just invisible?

Anyway. It’s been extra hard to write because the two of them were sitting less than three feet away from me the entire time. They’re both so nosey, consciously or not and kept looking over at me. I could tell they wanted to ask me about it, but at least they were respectful enough not to.

It’s got a really beautiful guitar melody, but I’d love to get my hands on my keyboard back home because I have a cool idea for a backing track… Never thought I’d be excited to play the piano but here I am, itching to play it thousands of miles from home.

We play Boston, Massachusetts in a few days, and the boys kept talking about wanting to hit up a pizza place in the city that they visited during one of their hockey tournaments a few years ago. At this point, I’m just trying to get through the next 7 hours. That’s when we get to the next venue, though we have to take a day off from the show tomorrow. Not only is it Carlos’ birthday, but it’s the day of Hawk and Rebecca’s trial. Sweet, sweet seventeen spent reminiscing one of the worst moments of our entire lives. Whoo whoo.

In other depressing news, after coming to the realization that I like James, but he doesn’t like me, it’s been extra hard to be around him. Mostly I just hang out with Austin and beat out my frustration on his drum kit… The last 13 hours have been like hell. Every time James smiles, it makes me want to. His laugh rings in my ears, sending a jolt straight through my heart. Whenever he gets up to walk by me, it takes everything in me not to stare as he moves about the bus.

It’s exhausting… Having a crush on someone is supposed to be fun. I’m supposed to feel like I’m walking on air, and glow, and sparkle, and shine. Instead, I feel like shit.

Truly, I guess I don’t really know him like I thought I did. What happened to the always flirty, unserious, loverboy who took me on a date our first month in Los Angeles?

I think I blew my chance with him once I met Dak, and I think I hate myself for it.

Exhausted and missing home,

Roxy

***

Happy birthday, happy trial day,

I hope you’ll be pleased to know that Hawk and Rebecca will be going away for a long time. We tried to celebrate Carlos’ birthday with cupcakes at the venue, but no one had an appetite after our Skype trial. To try and lighten the mood, I played a few songs he showed me at the beginning of the tour on my guitar, but I could tell as he absently sang along it wasn’t really helping.

Though, in other news that I shouldn’t be happy about, James spoke to me today unprompted and asked if I was okay after my testimony. Apparently, I was speaking quite shakily… Which, yeah. I was fucking kidnapped and asked to recount it in front of a room full of people I don’t know, of course, I was shaky. But at least he was thinking about me.

Maybe he needs signs or cues or reasons to act or something… Weirdo.

Anyway, we’ll bring a cake out for Carlos during the show tomorrow and have the crowd sing for him. Hopefully, he’s in better spirits tomorrow.

This was a weird letter, I know. Life’s weird recently, but thanks for reading. Miss you two.

Roxy.

***

Carlos fucking Garcia has been reading my mail. I’m convinced of it! Because tonight, when the band did the little introduction of their musical accompaniment, Carlos introduced me, walked right up to me, planted to sweetest, wettest, loudest kiss onto my cheek, and told me he loved me in front of the whole crowd.

When I told him I loved him back, we got some “awwws” (mostly “boooos” that I’m choosing to ignore) and continued the show.

Then.

When the show ended.

James grabbed my hand, dragged me off towards the back door of the venue, onto some side street alley where we couldn’t hear the crowds of people leaving the show anymore, and asked me if I wanted to make out.

A reason to act! Carlos telling thousands of people he loved me was a reason to act!

So.

We made out in a dirty, smelly alley and I think it was the best night of my entire life… Besides the five seconds I’m pretty sure a rat touched my foot.

There is hope yet,

Roxy

P.S.

When I got back to the bus I was buzzing so bad I told Logan everything. That I liked James, that we kissed, that we kissed some more, that I think about him all the time, that I’ve written one and a half songs about him already.

I’m in so deep at this point… And all Logan did was grin at me - stupid, dumb grin - and say “Finally,” before heading off to his bunk to sleep.

Camille, I hate your almost-boyfriend and I’m drawing all over his face in Sharpie tonight.

***

Oops,

Not to leave you two on a cliffhanger but the last month of tour has been so insane I haven’t even had a minute to myself to write (letters or otherwise), think, or even just take a breather in a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere.

The rockstar lifestyle is hard to get used to… Hopefully, we budget more off days for future tours or I might go crazy.

To answer the question I know is on your minds: No. Nothing else happened with me and James, though he does actually sit down and talk to me now (even if it’s mostly work-related, I’ll take it). We toured all throughout most of the other states in the country, I’d write them all here but I lost track after Boston if I’m being honest. Though I do know that at one point we were in Phoenix, Arizona and Kendall accidentally said “Hello, Las Vegas!” to the entire stadium.

MSG was insane. Best venue I’ve ever been to, the best crowd we’ve ever had, and the second-best night of my life.

As I write to you now, we’re about to play our last show in Duluth, Minnesota, before our three-day journey home. I’ve got a bunch of silly string to prank the boys with on stage during their solo sets… They won’t even know what hit them!

My dad finally got to meet the guys, though I’m not sure he liked any of them but he was kind enough - but what father would like the four boys his daughter is best friends with? I have no idea why he keeps calling James “Jay” but whatever. After the show ended I snuck him out of the venue and showed him our buses, and trucks for stage set up, and let him meet Mick and Austin as well - Austin even performed his song for my dad… His first audience member!

Safe to say, he loved Austin’s number, but how he felt about everything else, he didn’t share on his face like normal. I like to think I’m pretty good at deciphering how my father feels at this point in my life, but he kept his expressions at bay as we walked around everything we had waiting for us outside. I hope it didn’t put him off or something, considering I know that being a musician was his dream, too. What he did say was: “You shared this bus with two boys?” and “Which guitars are you using, Honey Bun? You deserve only the best.”

Dads.

I also got to meet Logan and Carlos’ families! (Minus James’... I felt really bad for him that his parents weren’t there…) Logan’s moms were so sweet - overly doting on him, fixing up his outfit, practically smothering him with health facts and tips. I think one of his moms is a realtor, while the other is a doctor, which would explain Logan’s want to be a doctor himself. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s a pediatrician. She gave off the vibe she’d be amazing with kids. It must have been so wonderful to grow up in that household :)

Since I’d already met Carlos’ dad, Mr. Garcia was kind enough to introduce me to his wife and three daughters. Genetics work in mysterious ways, blessing each of the Garcia children with the same dark hair and alluring eyes. It was hard to tell sisters Maria, Lupe, and Alena apart, but after talking to them a bit I was able to find some differences. They all followed me on ScuttleButter, so maybe we’ll talk more in the future. I loved getting to know them! Mrs. Garcia and her son also share a lot of the same mannerisms - they’re both curious, caring, and just a bit ADHD. The two of them spent most of their time together with the girls, pointing out different things about the venue, sharing stories from their time away from each other, and the coolest part was their switching back and forth from English to Spanish depending on if they wanted their conversations to be overheard or not.

At one point I think they were talking about me (and James) but I can’t be sure. Maybe if I’d taken Spanish in school instead of French my freshman year…

I wish Mrs. Knight had been there, but Kendall and James kept themselves occupied by talking sports with my dad. For a bit, Dad and Kendall talked about guitars after mentioning that I was teaching him how to play, leaving James out of the loop, so I went over and struck up a conversation with him.

Normal. That’s what we are - or more accurately what our relationship is - though, I think he looks at me a bit differently now. There’s no evidence to that last statement, I just feel his eyes on me sometimes and it makes my chest flutter. I much prefer being friends (who made out) that are able to be around each other, than whatever his weird, “ignore Roxy” game was.

The show’s in 10, so we need to start walking to the stage!

I loved writing to you two, but I can’t wait to get back to talking face-to-face. I’m in dire need of a girl’s night.

See you soon (for real this time),

Roxy <3

A little change of pace before season two! Thanks for reading :) Support for this story has been overwhelming!

Since school is starting back up, I'm going to be switching back to posting every two weeks instead of every week. <3

Season two starts September 5th, but I'll do my best to post little one-shots and such on my tumblr, so check over there every once and a while :)

#thats all she wrote fic #big time rush #btr #james diamond #james maslow #kendall knight #kendall schmidt #logan mitchell #logan henderson #carlos garcia #carlos penavega

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bredforloyalty · 10 months ago

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for someone who has never really listened to oasis before, what are the most incesty songs?

i feel like i'm not the expert i'm just one of the disciples hxdgy but thank you for asking me <33 i hope i can offer something while demonstrating that i got my wits about me. for the most part. it's kind of an inherently contradictory pair of goals but i'll have a go at it anyway lmao 💪

i mean, it's just not easy to say because i've low-key been BAMBOOZLING you all and oasis is a band with very normal music and very normal members*. and for example that post that goes something like, noel writes songs and says they're about his wife and then the song is like 'brother our love is so forbidden run away with me' is, while really funny, a huge exaggeration obviously (💀🩷) but as i said tumblrinas have a god given right to delusions and to biased interpretation and all that!!! it's funny and good for the ecology of this site and i have that god given right and i do it too. so that's where i stand, take this with a grain of salt etc. also sometimes it comes alive with the context and not without it, you won't find an inbred by ethel cain here HXSGCY

now that i got my disclaimers out of the way; the obvious one and the one that i must have conditioned myself to have a funny painful visceral reaction to (because i didn't use to) is guess god thinks i'm abel, written by liam. i couldn't find an archived version of the 2005 mojo issue that this was in, but:

"It’s biblical innit,” explains Liam. “Cain and Abel… it’s me and our kid. Or me and you. Two people who are the opposite, who become one."

Are you holding an olive branch out to Noel?

“It’s nice to put a band aid on it for a bit, knowwhatimean? I love him, I adore him, more than anyone else in the fuckin’ whole wide world. But we also don’t speak that much. We don’t have to speak. But that song is basically for him. It’s like, shut the fuck up, give respect and you’ll get respect back. Life, brothers and sisters, that’s what we all want isn’t it, respect?”

i had already been listening to this since before uhh a few weeks ago or whenever it was that i got these worms, because. you would not believe which of my playlists had it. and by that i mean you could guess with great accuracy (i think i've been vocal about my beautiful journey with claustrophobic familial relationships and about what kick-started me in that regard). come on. and i'm an older sister i've always liked the abels of the world

oh and i should mention my sister lover! it's my sister lover

and then there's if we shadows, honestly might be my favorite.. just favorite, period. definitely is out of the more uh acoustic and less rock and roll ones. "nobody knows what's wrong except me and my brother"

+ acquiesce. i find this one funny because people assumed it was about the two of them, with "we need each other" and "we believe in one another" in the chorus, because noel sings that and liam sings the verses on it (and it's not often they share songs like that and it's like they're singing to each other). noel called this "total fucking bullshit" and said it's about friendship lol and another time he said liam assumed it was written to him but it's actually to his girlfriend

i'm outta time. another one by liam, i just wouldn't rule it out that he wrote it with someone in mind. and i'm sure he wasn't completely oblivious to the problems they were having before the break-up sooooo.. you know

live forever. i mean that was their career i would say, the high points must have been like that (about 9 minutes in: "on stage, i just want him. and it's only me and him. when he turns to me and i turn to him at, like, one guitar break or whatever and, like, we just both look at each other, and that's what it's about for us. [...] not like i'm fucking dissing the rest of the band or anything like that but it's only me and him"), looking over at your brother who is the other half of the band in a way the other half of you as well and knowing you've created something permanent and in that very moment too you're creating it together and you're on top of the world. sorry if that sounds insane ,, as i said , contextual, it's live forever well it's just live forever

*: gaze upon any insane mutual's (or my own) oasis tag and make your own judgment on this lol

#also you can listen to don't go away with something in mind but i think they implied somewhere it was written to their guitarist's mom who #had cancer at the time #and you can listen to stand by me with something in mind #mayhaps the gallaghers are more interesting and less sane than their music ever was!!! may be so 0_0 #oasis #ask #kata.txt #x

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purplebass · 11 months ago

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Strangelove - Kell/Lila (Missing Tftop Scene)

Missing scene from Threads of Power Part II: The Captain and the Ghost aka the "post ring argument" scene that won the poll one month ago but that I got around to finish today after one month! ahah. The scene is from Lila's POV, because in canon it's Kell tell who us about this moment but superficially.

I tried my best and I'm not sure I'm satisfied with the result and what's funny is that when I think what I wrote is shitty, more people like it. Whereas when I put my effort into things, it backfires. I guess I'm a bad judge of character lmao I hope you enjoy this <3

I also made a Kell and Lila playlist on Spotify with songs that remind me of them, if you want to check that out https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2xaFdznX56KvzN39SIGuLq?si=8fb08fa1d5be4f5c

Read on A03 or read here (under the read more tag) 💜

“I have something for you,” Kell said, and opened her hand to place a black ring on her palm.

Lila’s heart thudded and she took a step back.

It was like that time, years ago, when someone had locked her in a wooden box on a ship, hoping she would perish. For a mere minute, she thought she wouldn’t make it, but the pounding in her chest only pushed her to beat the odds.

She wasn’t sure what odds she needed to beat in that small cabin. If what she was experiencing was fear or pure excitement. Or both.

“I don’t want it,” she said without thinking.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“I see what it is,” she replied sourly, putting distance between them. “And I don’t want it.”

Kell sighed. “It’s not what you think it is. This is a binding ring, and it is enchanted. I have one too. They are linked.”

Was that how they called them in his world?

He showed her his, but Lila just frowned and crossed her arms on her chest. “I don’t need it.”

“You don’t even know what it can do,” he said. “And you may need it. If you are in trouble, you can use this to call me. You’ll just have to say as vera tan, and I will come to you.”

As vera tan. I need you.

“Like I said, I don’t need it,” she shrugged. “I can get myself out of trouble.”

“I’m sure of that,” he said placidly. “But the future is unknown, and this may come in handy. The queen made them for us. They work in a similar way to the ring I share with my brother.”

“No.”

“You’re being too proud, Lila. You can’t even do this for me.”

“Do not be selfish,” she accused. “You always want things to go your way. You may be a prince, but the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

“And it never did,” he grumbled. “You’re afraid, and this is just an excuse.”

She scowled. “The fuck I am.”

“Come on,” he raised an eyebrow. “Asking for help is not a weakness, Lila. But you’re too proud to accept it,” he spat. “You refuse my help too.”

She heard the hurt in his voice, but she would stand her ground.

“I am perfectly capable of saving myself,” she raised her voice. “Why would I need that?”

She knew it sounded more like: why would I need you?

Kell passed a hand through his hair. “To call on me if you need help! Why are you stubborn? It's just a ring. It’s a precaution. A way for us to be connected in case of need. And I get what it means in your world, but –”

It wasn’t.

“I don't fucking need it!”

“You don’t know that!” He protested. “What is your problem? The ring reminds you of your London? I hate to break it to you, Lila, but it isn’t that deep. It doesn't mean anything. It’s just a ring.”

She shook her head, and clenched her hand around the stupid metal band. Ouch. It burned.

No, the whole cabin was on fire, and she was running out of air.

She needed to get out of that box before she would collapse.

Lila groaned and clenched her fists at her sides, feeling the metal of the ring against her palm.

She stormed out of the door and got herself out of trouble without looking back.

Kell slammed the door after she left, and she knew he was angry. His problem, she thought. He shouldn’t shove things in my hand and expect me to do as he pleases.

The sky hung somber above her, and held the promise of rain. She had learned how to read the signs of incoming storms after years out to sea.

The tenuous bruises of blue on the horizon would be washed away like footprints on the sand after the tide hit the shore. Blink, and you would wonder if you ever left a mark in the first place or it was just an illusion.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. She was so used to keeping her composure that her shoulders barely shook.

She sighed.

No, she would not return below deck. Not yet. She needed to cool off. She needed air. It was stifling down there. She felt like suffocating, and she was sure she would have said worse things if she hadn’t left.

I’m done. Leave me alone before I’m forced to be honest with you about the ring and bare my soul.

Sometimes she disliked that she couldn’t put much distance between her and her feelings, but the space on the ship was limited. She couldn’t run, she could just hide in plain sight. She needed to make do with what she had, as she always did.

Another thunder. She shrieked, and dug her nails into her palms. The ring pressed hard on her skin, and she was sure she had drawn blood.

She was stronger than this. After all, it was just a little object. How scary could it be?

She knew how to deal with knives, she knew how to use her body and her mouth to fight.

That token didn’t have sharp edges like a knife, even though it was made of the same material as a weapon. It was just a metal band. Rhy and Alucard used rings as accessories. They were mindless to them, fashion items. Little objects without a purpose if not for showing off.

She opened her hand and observed it.

It was black, with a little ship etched on one side. It was ordinary, insignificant, yet thoughtful. If she didn’t know the queen had made it, she would have thought it was Kell’s idea. He was sappy like that.

Looking at it now that she was alone, she knew it was harmless. But she was indeed stubborn like he had said, even though she would never admit it to his face.

She shoved the object into the pocket of her trousers and bit her lip. Out of sight, out of mind?

The sky roared again and it started to rain. The waves hit the prow of the ship angrily, spraying the surface of the ship with water. She didn’t think about going back to her quarters, and retreated under a shelter on the deck.

It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate him thinking about her. The future was unknown, but she was pretty confident that she could handle herself well. She knew that there would be no need for the fucking band ever. She knew that she wouldn't need to ask for Kell's help.

However, she had to admit to herself that one of the reasons she refused it was Kell himself.

It wasn’t just a matter of meaning. The ring would feel like a manacle around her finger that invisibly bonded her to him, which she wasn’t ready to put on display.

Never. Yet. Maybe someday.

She worried about Kell and his broken magic. She worried too much that it wrecked her sleep.

She was overjoyed when he finally decided to learn how to improve his fighting skills. It meant that he was willing to find an alternative while they tried to find a way for him to be whole again. Because they would find it, she would make sure of that.

She believed in Kell, even though he sometimes thought otherwise. She trusted that he was an idiot as well, and that he would use his magic as if nothing had changed and he would hurt himself.

Seeing him hurt angered her. So much so that she wanted to shake his face and yell at him that he needed to get a grip, and that things weren’t okay but they would be, but that would have given her away. He would know how she was silently desperate to help his case, how she desired that his magic would be fixed and he would be happy again.

He was broken, and she wasn’t sure a binding ring would help. She wasn’t sure she could help either.

She needed to be extra careful. Extra conscious. Extra attentive. She needed to be extra in every possible way so that she would not hurt herself. She rarely did, but even she knew that it was a possibility. They were under the sky, after all – thunder.

Sometimes thunder rumbled in the sky like the beat of a heart, like a crescendo of little explosions until – Lila closed her eyes once it struck and flashed the dark sky white. It felt like the storm was inside of her, with her heart beating wildly against her ribs. She was aware of her own idiocy at that moment, but she needed another five minutes. Or thirty. Or maybe she could sleep here.

She lowered herself to the floor, and covered her ears – “Dammit thunder,” she hissed.

The ring fell out of her pocket, and rolled further from her onto the deck. She reached for it like a feline reaching for a prey. The band didn’t even make it to the prow of the ship that she caught it.

She slid the metal on her finger and looked at her hand. “It’s just a ring,” she muttered to herself. “Just a ring I don’t need.”

She shook her head and quickly took the ring off. Another thunder lighted the sky, and she wondered if it was in sign of approval or it was laughing at her for being so stubborn.

The rain turned into a storm and her measly shelter on the deck turned like the ring. Useless. Scary like thunder. Soaked through, she walked down the darkened corridor to her cabin.

She would think about it tomorrow.

Her heartbeat quickened as she opened the door. The lamp on the desk had long stopped working. She wasn’t ready to face Kell, but he had made things easier for her by vacating the premises.

She made a bitter laugh as thunder rumbled in the distance, providing the missing light in the room for a mere second.

She settled on the bed in a curling position, her teeth clattering, and drowned her trembling body under a blanket. She didn’t want to face Kell, but she missed his warm body next to hers on a cold and stormy night like that. She hoped he missed her too.

At last, the following morning the weather improved.

The roaring storm wouldn’t seem to cease anytime soon, so she spent the rest of her night wide awake.

Being the captain had its perks. No one would come to knock on her door unless it was important. They knew not to disturb her. There was only one person who was allowed to bother her but he hadn’t shown his face yet that morning.

She changed into something that didn’t smell like saltwater and rain. She fixed her unruly hair and sprayed cold water on her face before she finally decided to brave to the galley and eat something solid.

Her eyes widened when she saw Kell sitting by the table. He looked up and their eyes met. Lila grabbed an apple and stood by the door.

He spoke first.

“Terrific storm last night,” he said casually.

She raised her eyebrows. “It was loud,” she replied. “But it couldn’t be helped.”

“No, I guess not,” he nodded. “Did the ship suffer any damage?”

“The ship? It managed just fine.”

Kell frowned, and put his hands on the table. “Did it? I’m glad.”

At that, Lila sneezed. Damn. He glanced at her but said nothing, and she finished her apple. Had he waited for her? There wasn’t anything in front of him to eat.

“I won’t wear that ring,” she said after a long silence.

“You made yourself clear last night,” he answered. “I don’t agree but I understand.”

“Do you?”

“You are free, Lila. I don’t want a binding ring to make you uncomfortable.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t want to wear it.” But I need you.

“Okay,” he said, and managed a smile. “But I’ll keep wearing mine.”

She frowned. “Isn’t it useless?”

“I can live with that,” he said and the conversation ended there.

Lila thought they were okay, and the day was uneventful. That night, he slept in her cabin again. Her eyes couldn’t help but look at his ring, and she made a decision about hers.

She would carry it with her, but she won’t wear it where it was supposed to be. The ship ring would never grace her finger. It would never make her skin turn darker because of its pressure. She would never be able to see it throughout the day while she used her hands.

The only way for her to carry the ring was to hide it in plain sight.

She got off the bed while he slept soundly, and retrieved a black leather cord from a drawer in her desk to secure the ring around her neck.

The ring wouldn’t be on her finger, but she would still have it on her in case of trouble – even though she doubted she would ever need it – and it would be closer to her heart.

She clenched her hand around the ring and then hid it in her shirt, and felt better.

Let’s hope you won’t need to be rescued, Delilah Bard.

In canon, Kell says that they never talked about the rings after they argued about them, but they talk in my fic... so that's a tiny difference. I wish I could've done more for this fic because I like to explore the disorganized (anxious/avoidant) attachment style they have in common, but well. There is time to do that in a future fic :)

The title comes from a song by Depeche Mode called "Strangelove" which is about the high and lows of loving someone and how loving also means accepting that there will be moments where the other person may not be perfect and make us angry but we still love them anyway and we are ready to learn from our mistakes (loosely).

I really wanted Kell to go to Lila during the storm because I head canon she's afraid of thunder as you saw, but at the same time, I thought Lila said she didn't need any help thus Kell just went along with her wishes even though he wanted to go to her. I imagine him not sleeping either because he wants to see if she's okay. Since they are both anxious and avoidant, it made sense to take this route. So you can see the day after when they talk, Kell asks about the storm but he's subtly asking if Lila (the ship) is okay. No idea if that was clear.

Hope you arrived there! If you did, thank you <3 if you have any comments, please write. I like to interact! <3

#shades of magic #kell maresh #lila bard #delilah bard #kellila #adsom #tftop #the fragile threads of power #threads of power #a darker shade of magic #a gathering of shadows #a conjuring of light #tweety.writes

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