#i hope he got a fat cheque for this)

[russellius]

GR x Einhell

[f0point5]

I’ve definitely heard Mr. Saturday used for George this year by some commentators but that was during the earlier part of the season as they talked about how he’s a good qualifier. Not so much anymore.

But honestly, I would hate to be called Mr. Saturday when my teammate’s got a cool ass nickname like the billion dollar man. Especially when the h2h is quite even and you’re not consistently beating said teammate at the thing you’re supposedly great at.

And the Ferraris… if I was Carlos I’d be telling them to not use those nicknames. Il predestinato/maranello’s sun is in the garage next to him and he’s just chili.

With Daniel, I think there’s a level of cockiness/confidence required to embody that nickname and make it iconic. If it were anyone else, the nickname wouldn’t work. Oscar and Mark Webber are both Aussies and good drivers, but calling them something like the honey badger would not work.

For Checo it’s just like what are you defending from right now?? You’re not defending anything for your teammate who at this point actually has enough points to not be overtaken in the constructors if Checo’s points didn’t exist. He’s battling the “midfield” and couldn’t defend against the car that spent the latter half of the season fumbling around in the back.

I would hate to be called Mr. Saturday when the race is on Sunday. That’s that on that 😂

Idk what it is about that nickname but I can’t put my finger on what it reminds me of but it makes me so uncomfortable. It will bug me forever. But I just know it sounds like something that once gave me the ick.

Look, at least Smooth Operator and Chilli will stay with Carlos when he leaves Ferrari. Im still collecting my thoughts for my thesis on why Ferrari owe Charles a m fat cheque for Il Predestinato but I honestly don’t think that nickname will stay with him if he ever leaves. Obviously Maranello’s sun won’t either. So…at least Carlos owns his image.

Daniel is the only person who could pull off honey badger lol I low-key hate it when anyone else says it except him.

Checo x TS Exile

What am I defending now?

I think I’ve seen this film before (Daniel, Pierre, Alex 😭)

Sorry had to say it. Yeah I mean, he’s been defending…from Alpines and self destructing Ferraris 😂 checo better hope Newey has a new rocketship next year so that Max continues not to need him

[oceanmonsters]

it’s been 3 years and I’m still not over how hard hozier went for a song for the soundtrack of that fucking Tarzan remake that literally no one even remembers. i haven’t met a single person who actually watched that movie. honestly can we get an f for all the great songs that were just wasted on movies.

[dreamy625]

This rockstar life - 3.14 Communication breakdown

Words: 2357

Content: I don’t believe it, actual plot! Angst, drinking, mention of drugs but no drug-taking.

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

“Oh god. Is he all right?”

“That was two days ago! Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“Well fat lot of good that’ll do, they never do anything.”

“But he’s stable now? And talking and everything?”

“Thank god. So what…”

“Has he agreed to go?”

“Then no, you can’t send him against his will.”

“No I can’t. And I won’t. He’s an actual adult and he gets to make decisions about his life. Even though he is spectacularly bad at it.”

“Well I would be all for it if I had any hope that it would work. But it never does, does it. In fact, it makes him worse. You know he’ll just go on a massive binge the minute they let him out.”

“That’s a twelve step thing isn’t it? That’s even more useless.”

“Look, I know you Americans don’t understand this, but Steve, like most English people, believes in god about as much as he believes in the tooth fairy. So anything that relies on the intervention of a higher power is hopeless. The nearest thing he’s got to a higher power is Jimmy Page. And he’s a heroin addict.”

“Still no. Not unless he agrees to it.”

“I just feel like you want to put him somewhere so he’s not your responsibility, but that’s not what he needs. None of those places ever deal with the real problem.”

“Yes but that’s just temporary. The alcohol isn’t the problem, or not the… core problem. Drinking is the coping mechanism… the medicine for whatever is really wrong with him.”

“I don’t know, I’m not a bloody psychiatrist. And neither are you.”

“I am not being hostile. Look, the only person who’s ever done any good was the counsellor at Highcliffe. Maybe we can get him booked in there? Just as an outpatient. Unless he says otherwise.”

“Fine. I’ll deal with it. As you say, I am indeed very familiar with that institution.”

“I’m sorry Peter, but you’ve been packing him off to hospitals and treatment centres and holistic healing whatnots for at least five years now and it hasn’t done the slightest bit of good. So maybe just… leave him be.”

“Okay, then I’ll come over and get him. Will the hospital keep him in until tomorrow?”

“Right. Can you at least book me a plane ticket? And two to come back again.”

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

Steve was almost entirely silent on the way from the hospital to the apartment, to pick up his stuff as packed by the devoted Malvin. He looked like shit, ghostly pale under four days of beard growth, with shaking hands, which I hadn’t seen since his first days in the clinic nearly two years ago. We were in the second cab, nearly at the airport, when he finally spoke:

“Are we really going home?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Mensch said… I have to go… to another…”

“I said he couldn’t send you anywhere unless you wanted to go.”

“You stood up to Mensch?”

“I guess I did.”

“You’re fierce when you need to be.” He managed a lacklustre smile before lapsing into blank silence again.

He trailed along behind me as if half-asleep as we navigated check-in, where I wrote a ridiculously large cheque to get many-times the standard baggage allowance, including three guitars, accepted by the harried clerk, got through Security, and found the right gate. I don’t know if there was some kind of VIP channel we could have gone through, Q Prime had just booked us business class tickets on a regular Heathrow shuttle flight and it hadn’t occurred to me to ask if there were usually special arrangements for transporting rockstars. Through the whole process I was afraid that someone would take a close look at Steve and decide that he couldn’t be allowed to fly in that state, but apparently shambling, glassy-eyed Englishmen are not that noteworthy and no one said anything. Finally we boarded and as I sat down my legs felt as wobbly as if I had climbed a mountain over the last twenty-four hours. As the plane taxied, I looked across at Steve and saw that there were tears trickling down his cheeks. As soon as the seatbelt light went off he clambered as much onto my lap as the armrest would allow and we clung together for the entirety of the short flight. 

By the time we’d got off the plane, waited for all the luggage, found a cab, and made it back to Chelsea it was almost ten o’clock. Once we got inside I just left all the bags in a heap in the hall and propelled Steve up the stairs to our bedroom. He just stood there, docile as a sleepy child, as I pulled off his clothes and pushed him under the shower. Concentrating on getting him warm, and ridding him of the hospital smell, I left the tangled hair. A problem for another day. It was only a few weeks since I’d seen him last, but he was noticeably thinner, every bump of his spine distinct under my hands as I soaped his back. I kept my head angled down so he wouldn’t see the distress in my face. Out of the shower and dried off, I wrapped him in one of the fluffy robes left from the Hysteria tour and he ambled into the bedroom while I quickly wiped the smudgy remains of make-up from my eyes and dragged a comb through my own hair. The person in the mirror looked like she’d fled from a warzone. 

“You should eat something. Are you hungry?”

He made a face.

“Soup?”

Another face and shake of the head.

“Well… tea then?”

“Okay.”

He drank the tea, and ate a couple of bites of the toast I’d optimistically brought with it before pulling off the robe and burrowing under the covers. I climbed in beside him and switched off the lamp. He was curled into a ball but unravelled enough at my touch that I could spoon him, and he held tightly onto my hand. After a little while, his grip loosened and I thought he was falling asleep, but then he murmured, oh so quietly, 

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“I know baby, I know. We’ll sort it.”

Even though I’d been awake for about 40 hours by then, I couldn’t sleep and just lay there listening to his too-fast, too-shallow breathing, thinking about whether the ‘this’ he couldn’t do anymore meant the band, or… everything. He’d been relatively stable, with some ups and downs, yes, but nothing life-threatening, for so long that I’d convinced myself he was fine. For a given definition of fine. And a given definition of convinced. If I’m honest, I think I was just refusing to see that everything - him, me, us - had been getting worse since that horrible Christmas, because I didn’t know what to do about it. I do not feel grown-up enough to deal with this. Eventually I must have drifted off, to be woken again just as it was getting light by Steve twitching and moaning in his sleep. I made soothing noises and stroked his shoulder until the dream passed, and then he seemed to be sleeping more naturally, with slower breathing. 

When I wake up again, it’s to bright sunlight coming through half-drawn curtains and an odd smell. As I reluctantly blink open my gritty-feeling eyelids, I see Steve next to me eating a banana and drinking orange juice. He looks, well, still bad, but less awful than yesterday. 

“Hey. Feeling better?”

“Sort of. Not feeling sick anymore at least.”

The banana smell is making me nauseous, but I keep that to myself. He needs to eat and I don’t want him to stop on my account. His skin, though still pale, has lost the deathly grey tinge, and his hands are steady holding the glass. Which probably means… 

“Is there vodka in that?”

His face couldn’t hide anything if he tried. “A bit.” he admits.

“Maintenance dose huh?” 

He nods. 

I haul myself upright. “Well I need my fix too. Of coffee. Want some?”

He shakes his head.

“And then, will you be up to talking?”

He nods again.

“In actual words?”

Smiling, he makes the hand gesture for maybe.

When I get back with the pot of coffee (I had remembered that he doesn’t want any, but today I think I’m going to need the whole thing for myself!), he’s snuggled down again, duvet pulled up to his nose. Being July, it’s not exactly cold, but maybe he feels safer that way. Quickly I gulp down a cup of the magic caffeine potion and slip down beside him. It’s so tempting to just… not. Not start the conversation, just pretend that everything is fine now. He looks so sweet and vulnerable, and even relatively healthy in the golden sunlight, and the relief of getting him back makes me want to just hold onto him as tight as possible, keep him here and never let the world touch him again. But that would only last until the next phonecall from Peter. So, we talk. Quietly. Gently. Lots of pauses for thinking. Some crying, mostly me. Cigarette breaks, mostly Steve. Almost like proper functional adults. Eventually he drops off to sleep again, and I won’t wake him because he really needs to rest, but it doesn’t matter because by then we’ve got the outline of a plan. Or if not a plan, at least the acceptance of what needs to happen. Now we just have to be strong enough to stick with it. 

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

“I can’t. I just can’t.”

A week later, both still hiding under the duvet long after the alarm clock has rung, Steve is besieged by anxiety and second thoughts. I’m trying to be supportive, but it really is a life-changing decision. And one which only he can take and only he can enact. And to be honest I’m almost as terrified as he is. The band, and everything that goes with it, is a major source of the pressure that crushes him, but also it gives him structure and purpose, and it’s been his whole life since he was eighteen. I don’t know what he’ll do, who he’ll be, without it. After talking to Phil yesterday, today is the day he’s supposed to tell the rest of the guys. And then Peter and Cliff. And to say he’s dreading it would be an understatement. I think this is the worst I’ve ever seen him. He drank almost an entire bottle of vodka last night, no pretence of it being a sociable activity, barely even bothering to dilute it, just a grim, deliberate, unstoppable emptying of the bottle to get as far away from reality as possible. He was itching for some coke as well, but he’s out of practice with that and fortunately the only contact he still has in London wasn’t answering the phone. Anyway, the booze was enough and he eventually passed out on the sofa about 1am. I did the whole recovery-position - blanket - bucket procedure, and resigned myself to a sleepless night keeping watch over him, prodding him periodically and making sure I at least got a grunt in response. A little after 3am he woke up, threw up, and then I was able to half-drag him up to bed, using all the pillows to prop him on his side once again, where he snored like a warthog for the next four hours until the alarm went off. 

Now, I think he’s gone through dread and out the other side into a kind of blank paralysis. Not hungover (I guess he probably puked half the bottle back up), but white as a sheet and huge eyes staring at nothing in the darkness under the quilt. There’s nothing I can say or do that would make it better. It’s definitely one of those ‘the only way out is through’ situations, but I’m not sure that’s a helpful observation to make when the ‘out’ part is a scary unknown future that you don’t necessarily want either. The car’s coming in an hour for the flight at noon. Phil’s going to meet us at the airport and go to the studio with him. I’ll wait at the hotel until after the meeting and the call to Q Prime in the States; this is definitely a band-only thing, and I do not want to be Yoko. Phil’s going to ring me when it’s all done and then, well there is no real plan for then. It depends how it went, what state he’s in. I can’t think about it now. It’s too much.

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

Captain’s log supplemental - we’re all having dinner at Joe’s house. I think. I hope. It went okay? 

They are making jokes, all at Steve’s expense, pretending to forget his name and saying ‘you still here?’ every time he walks into a room. But it seems good natured, no barbs, and I know this is how boys, these boys anyway, show affection. Joe, when he thinks no one is watching, has something of the look of a kicked puppy, so I think he’s more upset than he’s making out, but from the rest all I see is kindness and, not relief exactly, but like a weight has lifted. It must have been so tough to watch their friend struggling, horribly worried about him but also relying on him to keep doing his job so the band would stay afloat. 

From the quick debrief in the taxi, predictably Peter and Cliff had not reacted with unmitigated joy. But I think they recognised a fait accompli staring them in the face. They’re going to ‘thrash out a deal’, which definitely includes finishing the album and doing the tour that follows. I guess Steve’s going to need a lawyer to deal with it all, but for now he seems content with the general plan. Would a clean break right now have been better? Maybe. In the short term. But I think the guilt would have got to him in the end. I don’t know, it doesn’t feel entirely real yet. 

[buckybarnesbingo]

Titles Game

Tonight I'm Going Back to My Old Ways - suggested by @steverogersnotebook

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky didn’t usually go for straight guys. Not since Brock in college, anyway. But tonight, all he could see was the blond across the bar. He was laughing with his friends, and he was gorgeous. Muscles for days, a body Bucky wanted to climb like a tree, and a wonderful smile that was a combination of Hallmark wholesome and downright dirty that shouldn’t have worked, but did. The piercing blue eyes just sealed the deal: Bucky was going to get him in his bed. (there would definitely be a tag in there about how they need to communicate and how Steve's not straight)

@wolfnprey - Bucky had settled down after he started a family. Everything told him he didn't deserve happiness, but he was beyond listening. Until some old ghosts showed up. Literal ghosts, and they were hellbent on making sure Bucky's life was upended. He'd buried the necronamicon in the basement ten years ago, but now he was digging it up with the help of his old partner. If only Steve was forgiving.

@steverogersnotebook - (Early recovering Bucky) finds it hard to come to terms with the modern Brooklyn, seeks out night clubs and smokes like a chimney in an effort to feel the way he remembers feeling.

@ribbonsflyingoutthewindow - Their relationship had been strained in a way that Bucky was pretty sure couple's therapy couldn't fix. Not that he had tried. He wasn't about to unload all of his trauma concerning not being his old self anymore on some poor middle-aged Brooklynite mother of three even if she did have a degree that supposedly helped. There was no way she was prepared to help a brainwashed assassin with a fault list from Coney Island to hell and back again. So instead he'd unloaded all of that on Natasha. As a best friend, she was legally obligated to listen to him anyway. And besides, she was cheaper; she could be bought with a whine and a wine. However, talking to Natasha also meant he got the cold, hard truth that his relationship was suffering not because he'd forgotten who he was and became a brainwashed assassin for decades, but because he'd forgotten who Steve was and hadn't spent a lot of time figuring it out again. So per his therapist's (Natasha's, whatever) advice, Bucky's getting back to his roots and rebecoming the man who knew everything about Steve Rogers and hoping that maybe somewhere along the line, he can figure out what it was that made the two of them work so perfectly together.

More under the cut!

Down the rabbit hole - suggested by @liquidlightz

@phoenixgryphon - MCU Nat going down the rabbit hole that is pre Cap2 TWS information

@steverogersnotebook - An edgy Alice AU where bucky meets the OUAT version of the mad hatter.

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky wasn’t sure how, but he was constantly seeing the same figure out of the corner of his eye. A tall, muscular blonde, who seemed as though he wasn’t quite there, which was why Bucky was sure he was imagining the man, or confusing multiple tall muscular blonds. They weren’t as uncommon as one would think, and Bucky was so tired, so he decided not to worry about the blond. Until the day he literally fell down a rabbit hole - in Brooklyn, of all places - and ended up in another version of New York.

@wolfnprey -  Stripper AU. Nat drags Bucky to Down the Rabbit Hole for a particular stripper named Alice who is a beefy blond with bright blue eyes.

@bookdragon13 - Or alternatively: Steve goes to Storybrooke during his quest to find Bucky and meets Jefferson. Steve immediately goes “Bucky?” And Jefferson, in his sassy way, says ��who the hell is Bucky?” But proceeds to use his hat to help Steve find his Bucky, if only to meet his lookalike Whether or not this becomes angsty, I’m not sure

@psychiccatpanda - Bucky In the 21st Century:  After spending too much time on the internet trying to figure out what some of the things he’d been hearing about really were, Bucky wishes he’d trusted Tony when he said, “Snowflake, there’s whole swaths of the interwebs you don’t want to know.  Trust me, please?”  Now, six and a half hours later, he knew that there was Avengers fan fiction (and what that consisted of) and Avengers cosplay porn.  He wasn’t sure what to do with this information.  But maybe he just needed to do some more research. After a snack.

@liquidlightz - Alpine was very protective.  Bucky loved gardening and he'd planted many different flowers, but there was a fat rabbit that kept popping by and eating all the best tulips, daylilies, you name it.  Bucky was hesitant to harm the creature, but Alpine was having no more of it.  She chased said rabbit down its hole and Bucky had to dig her back out.

@ribbonsflyingoutthewindow - Bucky’s family owned a farm so he'd had a plethora of pets his entire life, but when he'd moved to the big city, Bucky had stuffed Top Hat the white rabbit in her carrier and told her they were headed for the adventure of a lifetime, no looking back. And truth be told, sometimes New York was lonely. But the other truth was he didn't miss Indiana at all. He loved New York, but he'd never regretted his move more than the day he came home to discover Top Hat not in her enclosure. He had to go door to door on the entire floor and maybe the floor above and below his. Everyone had to help find his missing long-eared, fluffy-tailed best friend. Cue everyone in Bucky's apartment complex searching the entire building for one white rabbit trying to pull her own disappearing act. And cue Bucky searching for a rabbit, but finding maybe a little more along the way.

You pull hope from defeat in the night - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast

@steverogersnotebook - After a terrible loss on a mission, Bucky and [strained relationship/preferred pairing] are nearly wiped out themselves. One has to get out and get help for the other before it's too late for them too. In dragging the injured party to safety, promises made in supplication reignite hope for a resolution.

@somesortofitalianroast - (pre-serum!steve/Winter Soldier!Bucky) After exhausting missions, there’s nothing Steve likes better than hooking up with a guy at a bar, preferably one who would believe him when he said he wouldn’t break. Tonight, he chose the guy carefully, a big, beefy brunet with thighs for days and something about him that made him look gentle. One night turned into another. And another. And another…. Who said hookups couldn’t lead to love?

@bookdragon13 - Just when Bucky was feeling his lowest, walking around Brooklyn at night, he hears a faint meowing. Bucky finds the white kitten and takes it to the local vet. Afterwards, he couldn’t just leave the white fur ball behind, adopting her and giving her the name Alpine. With Alpine around, Bucky couldn’t help but start feeling like he could climb out of the hole he’d dug himself in. He can’t help but laugh at Alpine’s antics and when he’s having a bad day, she cuddles with Bucky as he rubs his fingers through her fur

@liquidlightz - Bucky had written off more cheques than his body could cash, yet again.  Losing badly at poker and getting beaten down for failing to pay up.  This night was turning out better than the last, as he found himself in the hands of a gorgeous Doctor with gentle hands who seemed to enjoy his attempts at flirting through bloodied teeth.  Things might be looking up, he was going to go all in and take another chance tonight.

@wolfarrowepz - (Winterhawk, hockey AU)The Avengers were eliminated in the second round of the playoffs.... less than a third of the team had been with them when they won the championship 3 years ago. Now all Bucky wants to do is go home and sulk and ice his knee in peace. Clint has decided he needs to come to dinner with the team to show all the rookies and new guys to show them that losing isn't the end of the world. Fuck it all if Bucky will do whatever Clint asks. Bucky he liked him since they joined the team together as rookies. Clint is 100% oblivious to every move Bucky makes but if Clint asks him to do something he will. Clint on the other hand is convinced Bucky isn't into him. Cue pining and the inevitable "of course I Like you, you dope!" moment.

With Steel and Silver Burning Heart - suggested by @ibelieveinturtles

@steverogersnotebook - Dragon trainer AU, Steve goes to slay the dragon, Bucky's the dragon trainer. They meet, they clash, they enemies to friends to lovers.

@phoenixgryphon - big beefy bucky the blacksmith.  who builds broadswords to bring in the bills

@somesortofitalianroast - (Regency!AU) James Barnes was well aware that he was the Marquis of Buchannan in name only. With no money left in the estates coiffers and three younger sisters - the oldest a mere year before her official debut - to support, he was desperate. Desperate enough to approach the new Duke of Brooklyn - a known rake with a history of getting in duels - with an offer: he supplies the cash for Rebecca’s debutante and in return, he gets James. But what happens when the purely financial relationship is no longer purely financial?

@liquidlightz - Bucky was not amused when the blade pierced his heart.  Fuck, that hurt! "You asshole", he berated his not-looking-so-hot-now date on the other end of that dagger, "I thought we were having a good time." Bucky had to thank his lucky stars, and not his wits, that this hunter was a moron and that blade was cheap metal and not silver.  He should, maybe, start being a little more discerning in his hookups.

@bookdragon13 - As a Knight of the Realm, Bucky was sworn to protect the royal family. He didn’t mean to fall in love with the Princess in the process. Neither did Bucky realize he was a jealous man, until he saw another knight, Brock, try to kiss the Princess, with her unwilling. Bucky immediately called Brock out, challenging him to a duel. When Brock was wounded, Bucky threatened that if Brock tried anything with Her Royal Highness again, he wouldn’t be so lenient.

[raytorosaurus]

Can we talk more about the way gerard talks about the umbrella academy and how it’s clear that he’s lost creative control? It makes me sad to see his disdain for something he created but it’s also really obvious to me that the umbrella academy show is not what he wanted it to be. The show got popular and it’s like Netflix forced him out of it.

oh thank you anon this is one of my favourite things to complain about <3

like. gerard definitely seems to be a person who likes full creative control - the reason he quit his job at cartoon network and was driven to start a band as a creative/artistic outlet instead was because he felt like breakfast monkey was being taken in a different direction from what he intended... then when he started releasing comics he had a foot up from already being famous and clearly wasn't being told no very much - he's admitted himself that he wasn't good at listening to people back then and has since improved, and that shows in the difference between umbrella academy vol 1-2 and then 3. so the show was a definite improvement on the comics in some ways r.e. casting - gerard regrets making the entire main cast white, as he very well should etc. etc.

however i get the impression that he'd rather step back completely and kind of disengage from the show than have real input where he has to compromise cooperatively (especially since he's been living with these characters for over 15 years now). he's been pretty clear in interviews that he considers the comics and tv show two entirely separate entities - particularly in the uso interview he did recently he was pretty clear about him having very different music associated with tua than what's used in the show, and he was pretty quick to clarify that he has a very hands-off approach and lets steve blackman do his own thing when the interviewer implied he has input in scripts.

so i'm glad a lot of people like the show but i imagine it's a bit of a bummer to have more people associate your name with a very unfaithful adaptation than with your original idea. obviously the comics are far from perfect but (in my opinion! no hate if you like the show) the show erases almost everything that actually was interesting and special about them. i mean in the end he was already rich and now he's even richer with those fat netflix cheques so it's not that deep and he can deal with it lol. but it does rub me wrong when people talk about things (good and bad) that happen only in the show as if gerard had anything to do with them. and i personally just hope it doesn't impact gerard's motivation to work on the comics bc i want to read them :(( already the show has caught up to the comics in terms of "plot" (although there's no telling how similar they'll be) and gerard is talking about cutting the original eight volumes down to seven or even six. we'll see i guess!

[dramaintherain]

About park so dam... I also think a problem is she’s starring opposite pbg who is one of those actors whose dramas revolve entirely around him making every character involved at third place. No hate to pbg - he’s super charming & crazy popular which is probably why writers write for him first and everyone else second. But as a non-fan it makes his shows boring because I don’t even have the chance to get attached to the rest of the cast to keep watching

I think the problem is that PGB on his own offers a pretty bland experience -- it’s like the sugar free version of Coca Cola: it might present itself as the healthier option but deep down you know you are depriving yourself from the real sugar rush experience. His performance in “Encounter” worked because he was acting with Song Hye Kyo and how her character was central to the storyline.

Meanwhile Park So Dam’s character in “Record of Youth” had all complexity reduced to a bunch of tired out urban girl-next-door tropes and her screen presence limited to an almost guest appearance like status in favour of all focus being centred on PGB’s character: we know the consequences of this.

I can only hope she got a fat cheque for starring in this mess.

[jjkfire]

Sweet Saccharine; pt.4

Reader x Jungkook // sugardaddy!AU // 14.5k words

Summary: Trying your best to stay afloat in a ruthless city, you decide to join the sugar bowl. Who knew the sugar baby business would be this exciting?

Genre: Fluff?

A/N: here we are! a year later lmaooo but !!! better late than never amirite? sigh sorry for the wait ): i should really get into the habit of pre-writing my fics. anyway, i hope you guys like it! tis the reveal of the hooded man hehe. also never drink and drive pleaseee.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 *tumblr still hasn’t fixed the link thing, sorry!*

Previously...

His plan was really beginning to fall into place and it was all because of… you. Oh little Y/N has come so so far, he smiles but you still had a long way to go, still so much to do but it was only a matter of time before he would stand from afar and watch everything crumble around the Jeons, your very existence the sole thing he needed to kick-start complete chaos.

“Why?” You groan. “Why would you let me do something as stupid as that?”

“Listen, I tried to stop you but—”

“You didn’t try hard enough,” You grumble, head in your hands.

“If it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem too bothered by it.”

“This is your fault,” You huff. “I told you I didn’t want to go drinking but you insisted that I—”

“Oh, don’t you dare blame this on me.” Wendy wags her finger at you. “I said we should go drinking, yes, but it’s not my fault you decided to drink up half the bar.”

You let out a whine, letting your head thud against the table as you grumble to yourself.

“Anyway so, for your sake I pretended like the logistics conference bullshit story the two of you fed me last night was the truth, but come on, tell me… how’d you meet him?” She questions, prodding at your cheek.

“Well, a uhh, a c-conference.”

“Honestly Y/N, you expect me to believe that?”

“Okay, fine,” You sigh, shrinking away as she gives you a pointed look. “It wasn’t a logistics conference, but it was a conference…”

“Oh, don’t tell me it was comic-con or someth—”

“Hey, comic-con is cool,” You frown. “And so what if that’s where we met?”

She simply rolls her eyes at that before she squints at you, the gears turning in her head, a moment of realization dawning on her.

“No, no that’s not where you met him,” She murmurs. “You were busy during comic-con… you wouldn’t stop bitching about how you were going to miss it.”

“N-no, I went! I uhh took a day off and I—”

“Don’t lie to me. You’d be the last person to get a day off work,” She snips, eyebrows furrowed. “When did you meet him? Why wouldn’t you tell me you know him? Did our days of dreaming of running into him on the street mean nothing to you?”

You laugh at that, shaking your head at her.

“It’s complicated… he’s a secretive person,” You mumble. “Anyway, it hasn’t been too long okay... Maybe 2 or 3 months max. You know I can never hide anything from you for too long anyway.”

Wendy taps her fingers on the table, doing the math in her head. 2 or 3 months meant that it was right in the timeframe of— no way.

“No,” She gasps. “No… don’t tell me you met him at my conference!” She practically screams out the sentence, causing everyone to look at your table.

“N-no, no that’s not where we met!” You lie before you put your index finger to your lips, trying to get Wendy to calm down.

“My god, that’s why you’ve been avoiding all the texts where I try to set you up with potential sugar daddies! You—”

“Not so loud!” You scold before you look around, hoping no one in the café had caught that.

“Okay, so he’s your sugar— fructose father,” She corrects when you smack her hand. “And you didn’t think to tell—”

“Fructose father… honestly Wendy?”

“What? Okay, glucose guardian… or carbohydrate caretaker! Take your pick,” She smiles.

“The term isn’t the problem!” You grumble, burying your head in your hands. “Look can we just drop this?”

“Absolutely not,” She replies. “You bagged the literal whale shark of the industry… y-you’re set for life!”

“Whale sha—?” You shake your head at your friend before you clear your throat. “Listen, you can’t tell anyone… and I mean it okay? I don’t want you to say yes to me and then text your whole friend list seconds after I leave.”

“You have such little faith in me,” She fake sobs, sniffling as she wipes away imaginary tears. “You know anyway, no one would even believe me if I told them. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who would need a sugar baby.”

You nod at that, sipping at your drink, hoping that she would move on to another topic, but you know Wendy and she would milk you off every single drop of information before she leaves you be.

“So, you’re really not going to let me have any details?” She questions as you busy yourself with stirring your drink. “Oh come on! Tell me one thing. At least tell me he’s bad in bed. He can’t have good looks, money and be good in bed. That would be unfair.”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to know?” You snort, shaking your head. “Anyway, I can’t say because we haven’t really… done t-that,” You stammer. “We’re just in a uhh platonic… thing.”

“Please,” She snorts. “I saw you and him getting all handsy last night. Don’t lie.”

“We… we were? Oh my god. How handsy?” You query, worried. “H-he won’t fire me… will he?”

“Not with the way he was looking at you he won’t.”

“Wendy, I’m serious,” You wail, groaning inwardly. “We’re supposed to be just friends, okay?”

“And how are you doing with that? You’ve loved him ever since I’ve known you.”

“That’s not true,” You mumble, looking away. “I was uhh, enamoured by him, yes, but… that’s like you know, my daydream version of him. That’s not him, him. I can separate fact from fiction, okay?”

“Okay, sure,” She smirks. “Just saying, he looks better in person.”

“I know,” You hum, smiling.

Perhaps you like the fact that you can finally tell someone about your whole Jungkook situation… even if technically you’re not supposed to. The whole thing just seemed so crazy to you and being able to tell Wendy about the whirlwind of events that had taken place, feels… nice. The girl could coax anything out of you and as much as you hated to admit it, you loved talking to her about anything and everything. You trusted her with your whole heart and she just always understood you, always laughed at your jokes, no matter how bad they were which you thoroughly appreciated.

You tell her about him from start to end. You tell her about all the places you’ve brought him to, all the trouble you’ve almost gotten him in to and she laughs because whatever friendship or relationship you had with him, it sounded so entirely you. You have a penchant for danger, that Wendy is well aware of considering that she had been subjected to the many adventures you’d taken her on during college.

As you tell story after story, Wendy only grows more worried because you had that look, that smile and it’s one she rarely sees. She’s glad you’re happy, in fact she’d wish for nothing more, but the sugar business has always been misleading like that. One day you think the man you’re with has genuine feelings for you and the next, they drop a big fat cheque in your mailbox with a short letter saying this was fun, but we’re done. Sugar babies like you and her are in abundance thus, essentially, replaceable, expendable. It hurts, having to burst your bubble but if not her then who?

“He’s Jeon Jungkook,” Wendy says as a response to your story, her voice stern and you know what that means but… you wanted her to know that he was more than just his name.

“I know he’s Jeon Jungkook and all of that but, he’s really sweet too… nothing like how they paint him in the media.”

“Careful,” Wendy hums. “You have to remember your place.”

“I know my place,” You snap, before you let out a sigh.

“You know I’m not trying to be mean, right?” Wendy pouts. “It just looks like you sort of… actually like like him even if you’ve been trying to convince me otherwise.”

“Okay, maybe I do… a little… but it’s under control,” You frown, letting your finger idly draw patterns on the table.

“I trust you,” She smiles. “I just thought a reminder wouldn’t hurt. I know I’ve appreciated it every time you gave me one.”

You simply smile at her and nod, a soft thanks leaving your lips to which she crunches her nose at. Wendy always means well, has always been there to look out for you. She protects you with the ferocity of a mother and you’ve never been anything short of grateful for her. Well, except for when she convinces you that a night at the bar is a good idea… you’re not so grateful for her then but otherwise, you are. You know what she means about remembering your place and as much as you hate to admit it, you needed the reminder. Though Jungkook has been nothing but kind and sweet to you, you know that all of this is merely a contractual agreement. Sure, you let yourself get carried away once in a while but you guess you’re allowed to have some fun too. At the end of the day though, you must remember that you and him come from essentially separate worlds and no matter how enticing the idea of you and him being anything more than friends seems, it’s something that can never be.

As you stand outside the café, giving Wendy one last hug before the two of you part ways, you sigh when she reminds you that you should probably call Jungkook soon.

“You better thank him for carrying you up to your apartment too,” She laughs, remembering how mortified you looked when she had told you that it couldn’t possibly be her that got you up to your apartment last night considering that she wasn’t in the car.

“I’m a mess,” You sigh as you rest your forehead on her shoulder.

“It’s going to be fine,” She smiles. “He isn’t going to fire you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do,” She winks before she pulls away, waving to you as she walks down the pavement.

You’re not sure what she means by that and although you think the statement had meant to comfort you, ease the nervousness that you feel, it doesn’t. You grumble to yourself as you walk towards your apartment, the sun already beginning to set in the horizon. It’s no surprise to you. Put you and Wendy in the same place and the two of you could talk for hours on end. It’s a wonder how you got any work done in college when the both of you had shared an apartment.

It’s a long walk home and all you do is think of what you’re meant to say. You’re not sure how to start. You had a host of things to apologize for. First, you had to apologize for even calling him down to the bar, then apologize for the fact that he had to drop both you and Wendy home. Oh, and you had to apologize for being handsy too. God, you can’t believe you did that. Wendy said you did it all. That you had slapped his chest teasingly when you were trying to get him to buy shots, that you had cupped his face in your hands when he said no. She said you even placed your hands on his waist… ugh, why did you do that? You’re never touching alcohol again, is what you mumble to yourself over and over again. You can’t believe he even had to carry you up to your apartment. A fool, that’s what you are. You grumble continuously to yourself, garnering weird looks from passing strangers, but you’re too deep in thought to notice any of that. Mortified. You’re mortified at how drunk you has managed to destroy the one good thing you had going for you.

The same thoughts replay over and over again in your head, even after you’ve slipped into the tiny restaurant by the street to grab a hot bowl of noodles. You would think that the food would at least distract you but oh no, not even food can fix this one.

You’re sat in your apartment, phone in your hand, stomach queasy and as much as you would like to blame it on the dinner you just had, you know it has nothing to do with it. You’ve called Jungkook and hung up before the dial tone starts at least 5 times now. You know you have to do it, that there is no avoiding it, but you’re just so nervous. You’re rambling to yourself, playing out the planned conversation in detail when you hear muffled sounds coming from your phone. You look down at your screen, eyes widening before you curse when you realize that you had accidentally called him. Begrudgingly, you press your phone to your ear, groaning inwardly when you hear his voice.

“Hello? Y/N? Say someth—”

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He answers, voice sounding smooth, happy… not mad or uncomfortable. Odd. “Thought you butt dialed me or something,” He laughs.

“Well, yes, sort of but no I mean… I, yeah I don’t know.”

You shut your eyes, warmth flooding your cheeks because you sound like a babbling idiot right now.

“Uhh, right… Well, are you free right now? Because I’m actually a few minutes away from the bridge and I was thinking I could come pick you up for some donuts.”

“Huh? Oh, s-sure.”

“Great, I’ll see you in a few!”

He must’ve been lying because he reaches your house far too soon or perhaps you hadn’t realized you had spent all those minutes playing out 15 different conversations in your head.

For the most part, the car ride isn’t awkward but that’s only because you weren’t given a chance to speak. Someone had called him on his phone, moments after you had said hi to him and the conversation lasted all the way till you reached the destination. He gestures for you to go ahead of him when he parks his car near the usual hangout spot. In all honesty, you’re glad whoever it is that called him had decided to discuss business matters at such an odd hour. If he didn’t, who knows what would have transpired in the car. You can’t run away forever though because now you’re here, seated on the bench next to Jungkook with twice the usual number of donuts in your hand.

“I guess you’re really in the mood for donuts tonight huh?” Jungkook laughs, peering into the brown paper bag that holds his favourite snack. You only nod, still trying to arrange your thoughts.

“How’s that hangover you’re nursing? Did you sleep well?” He questions, nonchalant as he munches on his donut.

“It’s uh, alright and y-yes I did…” You mumble, eyes downcast as your fingers tug at your earlobe nervously.

“Hey, it’s nothing to be shy about. We all have nights like that,” He smiles, using the back of his hand to wipe off the powdered sugar on his lips.

There’s an uncomfortable silence that hangs in the air and it makes Jungkook feel like he’s done something wrong. His mind starts working at a hundred miles per minute. Does being around him make you feel uncomfortable now? Was it the cuddling that had put you off? Well… you couldn’t really blame him for that. You were the one that had wrapped yourself around him first. Granted, he knew you were drunk. Damn it. He’s a dick, he frowns. He didn’t really mean to take advantage of the situation like that but he couldn’t help that it felt… nice to be in your arms. I-If you hadn’t put your arms around him, he would’ve let you be. See, he’s a good guy. He had nothing to worry about, he hums. But then again, he did kiss you on the cheek... multiple times. Ah, this was starting to look bad. He wants you to know he meant it in the most innocent way possible. You just looked adorable in your sleep and… and and there’s just all of these feelings he has that he’s still trying to properly map out but at the time it just seemed like a good idea. His lips are parted, an apology just at the tip of his tongue, but you’re speaking before he can get anything out.

“I’m— it’s… umm… I’m sorry I called you yesterday. I-I shouldn’t have and I caused you all of that trouble and I just—” You hesitate, forcing yourself to look at him, eyebrows knit together. “Please don’t fire me. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Fire you? Why would I— I’m not going to fire you,” He laughs. “Where did you get that idea?”

“I mean wasn’t what I did yesterday sort of a breach of the contract? You wanted all of this to be on the down low but then I called, and I basically forced you to come down to the bar and—”

“You didn’t force me to do anything.”

“I know but it was… unprofessional of me to do what I did and you had to carry me up to my apartment too,” You frown, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “N-Not that I actually remember that… Wendy had to refresh my memory because the last thing I honestly remember is seeing you walk into the bar and even that part is foggy at best. Ugh, I’m so sorry. This… this rarely happens and I’m just… I’m so sorry.”

You don’t remember anything… He’s in the clear for now, he guesses.

“Y/N, relax,” He tips your chin up so you’d look at him, offering you a soft smile. “What are friends for if they don’t drive halfway across town to pick you up drunk from a bar? You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

“I doubt you would want your posse to see me,” You laugh. “But, if I had a car, yes, I would.”

Jungkook frowns at your first statement. Why would you think that at all? He knows he makes it seem like he doesn’t want to be seen with you in public sometimes but that’s not really what it’s like. He didn’t know how to say it but more than anything, he’s concerned for your safety. He could handle the rumours, handle the press and well, even his mother’s wrath but you on the other hand, it would be cruel to subject you to all of that. He means to say all of that to you but when he peers over at you, you have this expression that mimics fear because—

“Oh y-you’re frowning… was that a test?” You ask, gulping. “Was I supposed to say no because then no I wouldn’t—"

“No, no,” He snorts, waving his hands. “No, it wasn’t a test. It’s— Look, it’s all good. You shouldn’t even have to apologize about yesterday.”

“Okay… but I’m still sorry,” You mumble, pouting as you tap your feet at the ground at an uneven rhythm.

He sighs, shaking his head at you as he grins. Why and how are you so adorable all the damn time?

“You know you and I should go out for drinks sometime,” He smiles. “You should show me how you guys live it up here in the South. Seems to be a lot more fun than the North judging by the state you were in yesterday.”

“Even after what you saw yesterday you actually still want to go out drinking with me? Are you a masochist?” You laugh.

“I happen to think you’re quite fun when you’re drunk. Slurring and babbling,” He hums. “Plus you talk with this perpetual pout because you think it’ll get you whatever you want.”

“I don’t do that,” You grumble.

“You do.”

“Do not.”

“Well, I’ll record it for you when we go drinking.”

“Fine.”

It’s an opportunity that never presents itself because it’s been a week since he’s last seen you. You say you’re busy with work and he understands that because you work two jobs after all. Jungkook’s not really the clingy type but he… misses you. He wonders if perhaps you were lying, that maybe you do remember the events of that night. Maybe more than that, Jungkook just wants to clear the air because his guilty conscience is eating him alive. Although nothing he did was technically bad as per se but… he still feels it was out of line. 

Perhaps he just needed to rip the band-aid off, just tell you that maybe he sort of kind of likes you and see where things could go? No. What if that freaks you out? He likes your company too much to risk you breaking off the contract but then again… he knows you wouldn’t do that. You needed the money, bad. But… he doesn’t want you to feel forced into staying friends with him. He hates how his mind always goes off on a tangent of its own, making mountains out of molehills. Maybe he just needed to see you to reassure himself that he was just making everything up in his head and that’s why he stops by the convenience store you work at, knowing that you have tonight’s shift. When he steps in however, he sees a young male working at the counter and at that he simply snorts.

Your phone dings and you grumble from your spot on the couch. Swiping at the message on your screen.

[9:31] Jungkook: busy working you say

[9:31] Jungkook: but you’re not at work???

[9:31] Jungkook: [image sent]

Crap. You groan when you see the image. It’s a picture of the convenience store counter, the worker at the register looking a little confused.

[9:33] You: …

[9:33] You: omg are you stalking me?

Oh damn… Jungkook just realizes how creepy this actually seems. He didn’t really think this through, he mumbles to himself as he slurps the instant ramen he just got for himself.

[9:33] Jungkook: wait what? no!

[9:33] Jungkook: I was just in the area

[9:33] You: hmm suspicious but ok sure

[9:33] You: anyway sigh fine you got me

[9:33] You: im not at work because im sick

 He frowns at that, wondering why you would lie and say you were busy instead.

 [9:34] Jungkook: so that’s why we haven’t been hanging out?

[9:34] Jungkook: lol why didn’t you just say so

[9:34] Jungkook: how bad is it

[9:34] Jungkook: did you go see the doctor?

 [9:34] You: ah yeah it’s just the flu

Jungkook hums at that, finishing the remainder of his meal before pocketing his phone to move towards the hot food section of the store to get a bowl of warm soup to go.

The pain in your abdomen hasn’t subsided and your body feels like it’s on fire. You haven’t been able to keep anything down at all today and you wonder if it’s the funky tasting egg sandwich you had for lunch two days ago that’s making you feel like this. You’d go to work if you could… you really can’t afford to take the day off, but you can hardly move. You’ve made your couch your bed for the past two days because from this spot you can crawl to the front door to open it when your food gets delivered. Speaking of, the delivery boy should have been here at least half an hour ago, but you don’t mind, you’re not that hungry anyway. Though you don’t really feel like eating, you know you should. You wonder what the point is though. You’ve barely digested it before you find yourself hugging the toilet bowl, retching out the contents of your stomach.

*Ding Dong*

“Coming,” You answer weakly, crawling to your door. You can’t stand, not for too long anyway because it feels like you’re being stabbed in your abdomen repeatedly.

You get to the entrance, pulling yourself up by the door knob. Your hand feebly reaches into your pocket for money as you open the door, not even bothering to check who’s on the other side of it.

“Y/N,” Jungkook smiles. “I come bearing gifts!”

“J-Jungkook, what—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence, he’s already stepping in your apartment, rushing you to the couch.

“Just rest,” He mumbles. “I was close by so I thought I should bring you some soup.”

“You didn’t really have to,” You murmur, watching him set the plastic bag down on your coffee table.

“Well, what are friends for if— Y/N?”

You’re running to the washroom, throwing the door open before squatting by the toilet bowl as you heave out water and bile, having already thrown up your lunch much earlier in the day.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook questions, rushing to pat your back.

You nod, breathing heavily as your hold your abdomen in pain. Curse the stupid egg sandwich. You’re never eating one again.

“You said you had the flu,” Jungkook grumbles. “This isn’t the flu.”

“It is. It’s the stomach flu.”

He rolls his eyes at that and you scowl.

“It’s real, okay? It’s a thing.”

“Did you even go to the doctor’s?”

You mumble something under your breath, flushing the toilet before you move away from him to crawl back to the couch.

“Well, did you?” He questions again as he tries to pick you up, but you push his hands away, getting onto the couch on your own.

“No.”

“Why not?”

You refuse to give him an answer, trying to reach for the soup instead.

“We’re going right now,” He says, moving to pack up the food on the table.

“You’re overreacting,” You sigh. “It’s not as bad as it looks, okay? It’ll go away in a few days.”

“You can barely stand, you’re vomiting and you have a fever,” He mumbles, touching your forehead. “It’s bad and we should get you to a doctor.”

“No.”

“Why not? Are you afraid of doctors? I’ll be there—”

“No.”

“Stop being stubborn,” He frowns.

“I can’t go,” You sigh.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“I-I don’t have insurance,” You mumble.

“You have me,” Jungkook says matter-of-factly. “You don’t need insurance.”

“Jungkook,” You sigh, shaking your head. “No.”

You hate being indebted to someone and especially so to Jungkook. You already had your whole drunken fiasco last week and you can’t let him do this for you. You’re probably the worst sugar baby in the business, you sigh.

“We’re going,” Is all he says as he picks you up, empty plastic bag hanging off his hand.

“No, please,” You beg, attempting to get out of his hold but you’re too weak to fight. You try to squirm, but Jungkook holds you tight, hands secure under your knees and back as he presses at the button in the elevator. God, you’re a mess, you sigh.

Sat in the front seat of his car, Jungkook curses as he looks up directions on his phone.

“Seriously? The closest hospital is in the North?” He questions. “Why isn’t there one in the South?”

“Ask the mayor,” You huff. “He said the South doesn’t need one.”

“Incredulous.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Hold this,” He places the empty plastic bag in your lap before his hand squeezes yours. “I’ll get you there, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, fiddling with the bag. You’ve never seen Jungkook look so worried and you hate that you’re the reason why. It’s why you had lied to him in the first place because you knew he would do this. You start doing mental math in your head, wondering how long it would take to pay him off. You don’t even know what the ballpark figure is because going to the doctor has always been out of the question for you. It shouldn’t be too much, you hum. Except… it is.

Appendicitis. That’s what they say you have. You’re going to need surgery they say, and you freeze.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes ma’am. There is no alternative.”

“What if I don’t get the appendectomy done?”

“Well, then your appendix might rupture, and septicaemia might occur. Your body could go into septic shock and in the worst-case scenario, death may occur.”

“Oh… How much will it cost again?”

“About thirty-thousand dol—”

“Thirty thous— oh my god. Wait, can you give me a few minutes to think about it?”

“Y/N, this is ridiculous!” Jungkook scolds. “Just get the surgery.”

“I don’t have insurance,” You hiss.

You watch as the faces of the doctor and nurses pale. One of them scans your admission form and frowns at the address written on it, instantly recognizing your postcode.

“Perhaps you would like to transfer to a different hospital then? North Court Hospital just a few minutes from here is a hospital that suits your… kind better.”

It’s not really a question, the way the nurse had said it. It was more like a statement and at that you nod meekly.

“Y-yeah, I think we’ll do tha—”

“It’s illegal for a hospital to refuse treatment to their patients,” Jungkook glowers. “How dare you—”

“The law does not apply to southerners.”

“Jungkook,” You mumble, moving to climb out of the bed. “Let’s not make this a bigger deal than it—”

“This is insane. You know there’s a possibility of death if you don’t treat her and you’re refusing to do so because of where she’s from?” Jungkook growls, fists clenched. “What kind of doctor are you?”

The doctor snorts, shaking his head.

“Listen here, scum. I’d watch that tone if I were you,” He cautions. “All you Southies with your fucking attitude. The fact that any of you think you even deserve our time at all is simply nauseating.”

Jungkook has his fists clenched, his jaw taut and you panic, not wanting to cause any more of a scene than this whole debacle already has.

“No, you listen here, asshole,” Jungkook warns and you tug at his arm to get him to stop but he ignores you. “I’ll be paying for the surgery in full right after it’s over so don’t worry about that. Heck, you can have my credit card right now,” He snaps, digging his card out of his wallet to show it.

Jungkook pulling out his sleek, matte black credit card is almost like something out of a movie and you have to stifle a laugh at the sight. When the nurse reaches out to inspect it, you watch as his face crumples in fear after seeing the name printed on it. One by one, instant regret sweeps across each of their faces and it’s a sight to behold, one you don’t think you’ll ever forget.

“Ah, Mr. Jeon… i-it seems like there has been a uhh misunderstanding,” The doctor mumbles before clearing his throat. “We will attend to her right away.”

“Good,” He hums.

“We will be back to prepare you for the surgery in a second, miss,” One of the nurses addresses you and you nod.

When they leave the room, you laugh despite the pain in your abdomen and Jungkook scowls. You give him three slow claps, shaking your head as if you had seen an Oscar worthy performance.

“That was impressive,” You smile. “Did you see their faces when they saw you pull out your all black limitless card? And then when they saw your name, they looked like they were just about to piss themselves,” You snort, laughing.

“Well, serves them right,” He huffs. “Absolute dickwads.”

“You don’t think the doctor will ‘accidentally’ mess up the surgery and kill me on the table as revenge, do you?”

“Don’t joke like that,” Jungkook frowns and you simply laugh.

“Hey, Jungkook,” You mumble. “I know you got all pissed because of what he was saying to you and in the heat of the moment you said you would pay but… it’s thirty thousand dollars and if you uhh regret what you said—”

“Y/N, you’re getting the surgery. That’s final.”

“O-okay… but I’ll pay you back! By instalments…” You mumble. “It’ll take a while, but I promise—”

“You remember our deal, right? I’m supposed to pay for everything when we’re together.”

“Yes, but that’s different. That’s only when we’re out having a meal or whatever.”

“No, I never stipulated that in the contract.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be stipulated. It’s common sense,” You sigh. “Jungkook, it’s thirty thousand dollars. It’s not chump change.”

Jungkook sighs fiddling with his phone for a second before he shows you his screen, the PDF of the contract pulled up with one sentence highlighted.

All expenses will be paid for by Jeon Jungkook when both parties are present during an arranged meet-up.

“Yes, exactly my point! It has to be an arranged meet-up!”

“It is an arranged meet-up,” He smiles. “I said we’re going to the doctor’s and you said yes.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“You did,” He exhales. “In the car I said, I’ll get you there okay? and you said, okay which is the equivalent of a yes. Thus, you agreed to this arranged meet-up.”

“Jungkook, this is ridiculous. I’m not going to let you pay.”

“You know, you never listen to me,” He grumbles. “Actually, you breach this very same rule every time you pay for donuts. So, this is payback.”

“The donuts are worth peanuts compared to this! It doesn’t even come close to a quarter of the bill!” You yell.

“Well, you can keep buying me donuts until you reach the equivalent amount then! That’s your installment plan.”

“It’ll take years!”

“It’s either that or nothing at all.”

“Fine,” You frown, and he smiles patting you on the head before he takes a seat on the chair next to your bed. “But just so you know, this is absolutely ridiculous. This isn’t a meet-up. Aren’t the meet-ups supposed to be date-like activities? That’s what your contract says.”

“Yes, this is a meet-up. I’ve always wanted to have a hospital date,” He smiles. “It’s romantic don’t you think?” He grins, holding your hand in his.

“Now you’re just teasing me,” You grumble, pulling your hand out of his as you sulk. Jungkook simply laughs, looking at you with an endearing smile.

While you scowl at him, the nurses shuffle in to prepare you for the surgery and Jungkook is called out to the counter to address issues with the admission form.

“The patient did not list an emergency contact. Do you know anyone she would like to list? Perhaps her parents or siblings?”

“Umm, I’ll ask her in a moment but for now I’ll just list myself as one of the contacts.”

The nurse nods, handing Jungkook a pen to fill up the section of the form. After filling the details, he gazes at the form looking through the information.

First Name: Y/N

Last Name: Lee

Huh, so that’s your last name… You’ve always avoided telling him what it was, always hiding your identity card from him which he’s always found a little suspicious. You had said that the picture you had on your card was horrible and that your last name was embarrassing, that it didn’t suit you and he never understood what that could possibly mean. What was wrong with the name Lee anyway?

“Excuse me,” Jungkook mumbles, addressing the nurse behind the counter. “Is Lee her official last name?” He asks.

“Yes, the last name given matches the last name on the identity card database,” The nurse answers. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no,” He shakes his head. “I’m just double checking,” He mumbles before he says his thanks and returns to the room.

When Jungkook slips into the room, you’re nodding at the nurses while they tell you that they will be back shortly. As he steps closer to you, he realizes you look visibly shaken and he begins to worry.

“What’s wrong? Did they hurt you? Did they do something to you?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s—”

“Oh, is it the drip?” He says after noticing the tube connected to you. “This is just the way they administer the anaesthesia.”

“No, I mean this is fine, b-but they did something alright.”

“What?”

“Th-they shaved me,” You mumble.

“Shaved you?”

“Shaved my pubes,” You whisper. “Do you think they did it just to make me uncomfortable?”

“What? No,” He laughs. “It’s just standard practice I guess because the incision point is close to the area.”

“Oh, okay,” You murmur. “I’ve never had to do this before okay? I’ve never been to a hospital, I’ve never seen a real doctor. I’m just a little… nervous.”

“Hey, I’m right here,” Jungkook smiles. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“You’re here,” You nod, repeating after him and Jungkook finds it oddly adorable.

“Oh, um by the way the nurse asked about your emergency contact section. Do you want to put anyone on there?”

“No…”

“You sure? Maybe you could put your mum’s details down. Just in case anything happens.”

“No, I uhh don’t want to trouble her.”

“Okay, what about your dad?”

It’s a question he asks for selfish reasons. It’s just that you’ve only ever mentioned him in passing... and perhaps that’s because you don’t have very fond memories of him, he assumes.

“No, no no. It’s fine.”

“Alright… you sure? You don’t want anyone on there? Not even Wendy?”

“I mean… it’s a relatively safe procedure, right? Nothing’s going to happen so just leave it blank. I don’t want to trouble anyone.”

“Well, yeah, but every surgery comes with a risk… even if it’s a small one. Anyway, it’s fine. I put my name down,” He smiles. “I’ll be here though so it doesn’t really matter,” He laughs, sinking down onto the chair.

“No, you should go. It’s late and you have to work tomorrow.”

“It’s fine. It’ll be quick anyway… Plus I did say I would pay right after the surgery.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind you paying tomorrow since you’re the Jeon Jungkook after all,” You snort. “Why didn’t you use that line? The ‘do you even know who I am?’ line. It was the perfect chance!”

“I hate that line,” He scrunches his nose. “I don’t really like flaunting my name and well… the power that comes with it, but they were being really shitty.”

“You know I always assumed you had celebrity status in the North. That people would instantly recognise you and bow at you or whatever.”

“No,” He chuckles. “I’m rarely in the news or magazines. My mother has always made sure of that.”

“I guess that’s nice then that you have that anonymity to a certain extent.”

“Yeah, on a day to day basis I guess but if we’re at some high flung gala or event, they almost always know who I am.”

You nod, feeling a little light-headed.

“This thing’s really getting to me,” You mumble, pointing at the drip bag.

“Yeah? Don’t worry, it just means they’ll be wheeling you in soon enough.”

“I’m actually… a little scared,” You admit. “I-I won’t feel anything, right?”

“Wow, you’re okay with gangs, being held at knife point and all of that but you’re scared of this?”

“Shut up,” You mumble.

You don’t tell him but yes, both doctors and surgeries scare you. Always did ever since you were a kid. It was never really a pretty sight whenever you saw a doctor in your home... and the screaming... you shudder every time you think about it.

“I’m here, you big baby. Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine,” He smiles, holding your hand. You hum at that squeezing his hand in return.

Holding your hand shouldn’t be a big deal. The gesture after all is meant to reassure you that you had nothing to worry about. It’s platonic, with no other meaning tied to it but the only thing Jungkook can think of is how naturally your hand fits in his. Of course, it’s technically all in his head because he wouldn’t be able to pick out your hand in a blindfolded test but… it just felt nice. He looks down to where your hands are linked, cherishing the moment when he sees something on your wrist that piques his interest.

Three small dots.

They form a triangle and— oh, your former gang! The Trinity! Jungkook smiles, patting himself on the back mentally because isn’t he a genius for figuring that one out? It’s odd though… didn’t you say the official insignia for your gang was a triangle? Why would you get only 3 dots and why would you hide it from him? He’s never seen it before, he’s pretty sure, but you did have a habit of rubbing your thumb over that spot from time to time. Well, that and tugging at your earlobes whenever you were nervous. It feels like his mind is playing tricks on him because he’s very sure that the tattoo wasn’t there the last time he saw you. He’s not obsessed with your wrist or anything, but he’s seen you rub at that same spot before, many times over and there was always nothing. It was a nervous tic you had, one he had always meant to ask about. It’s a question he would have to reserve for next time because soon enough the nurses are wheeling you off to the operation room. You simply turn to wave at him, smiling as you said see you later. The anaesthesia surely had gotten to you by then. There wasn’t an ounce of fear on your face.

When you awake, there’s a dull ache in your abdomen area but it’s much better than what you had been feeling just a few hours ago. You peek under your gown to find a dressing pad taped to the area and you sigh, wondering if the scar would be noticeable. Turning to your side, you find the chair empty, but you see a little note on your bedside table with a teddy bear next to it.

Y/N,

I waited a while but it didn’t seem like you were going to wake up anytime soon. The doctor says the surgery went well and that you can leave tomorrow. I have an early meeting to get to, so I’ve gone home to get some shut eye. I’m sorry ): I’ll come pick you up after my meeting though! In the meantime, your new friend which I got at the gift store downstairs can keep you company.

P.S: press his hand for some relaxing tunes

You reach for the teddy bear, pressing the paw that’s painted bright red with the words Press Me! stitched onto it. You click on the paw, waiting to hear something but all you hear is static before a Oh, wait... is this thing on already? Crap. You laugh, shaking your head but then you hear the instrumental playing in the background, and you laugh even harder. Soon enough, the classic melody starts playing and you’re snorting to yourself in your bed. Of course of all songs, he had chosen a meme song.

Shooting Stars is a song you and Jungkook had first heard in Mr. Kang’s donut store. It had been perhaps the fourth visit to the store. You remember the both of you standing in the middle of the store trying to search up the song because it had such a catchy tune. After saving the details of the song on your phone, like the free spirit that you are, you break out into a tiny dance, prompting Mr. Kang to join you from behind the counter and he obliges, laughing as Jungkook recorded all of it. You still have to get him to delete that, you laugh. Anyway, weeks later, you started seeing these hilarious meme videos with the tune playing in the background. Then, while you’re catching up with Jungkook over donuts, he shows you a compilation video of the meme and says: Isn’t this our song??? And so that’s what the song is. Our song, you hum. Of course only you and Jungkook would pick a meme song to be the soundtrack of your friendship.

The nurse must think you’re out of your mind because she’s giving you a look that borders on fear and disgust as she watches you sing along to the song playing from the bear. You debate explaining to her why you’re laughing at a mere song but you decide against it. Though patients are usually advised to stay overnight, she gives you the all clear to leave when you ask. Considering Jungkook has already paid for everything and was no longer in the vicinity, they didn’t have to be nice to you anymore. You’re unbothered though and you say your thanks before you simply slip back into your clothes and grab a cab back to your place.

You see Jungkook later that night and he’s obviously angry at you… that you already know because he called you in the midday after getting to the hospital only to find out that you’ve already left. You had a game plan though. You make him meet you at his favourite noodle store and after a bowl of rich curry noodles, he seems to have calmed down considerably… or perhaps he was just too busy sweating, gulping down his drink in an attempt to quell the fire that the curry had left behind in his mouth. Next, when you get to the donut store, you make sure to buy more of the custard filled donuts than usual but ah, you should’ve known that unlike you, Jungkook can’t be bought with food.

“Why did you go to work today? Why didn’t you just rest?” He questions.

“I-I didn’t go to work…”

“You did. I could hear your walkie-talkie going off in the background when I called you, Y/N.”

“Okay, fine, I did,” You grumble. “I already missed two days of work, okay? I can’t afford to miss any more.”

“I-Is it the money? I already told you I can help, Y/N,” Jungkook sighs. “You have to stop returning the excess money,” He frowns.

Jungkook has been trying to pay you more than he should be and it frustrates you. You only want what he had agreed to pay you. Sometimes, you find that he pays you double, even triple the amount and no matter how tempting it is to take the money… you always return it, hiding it in the glove box, under the seat, stuffing it back into his wallet when he’s in the washroom.

“I don’t want… handouts.”

“Are you really in the position to refuse it though? If you keep working like this, you’re going to—”

“I’ll make it work,” You huff. “I… I don’t want to hear any more about this, okay?”

“Fine,” He huffs. “Just know that all you have to do is ask.”

Jungkook is too nice for his own good. He trusts you far too much. He’s naïve. With the way that he is, he would end up donating his fortune away if he stopped to talk to everyone in the South. Everyone here had what someone would call a sob story. Why did he want to help you so badly, anyway? Didn’t he think it was odd that it was hard for you to make ends meet even with two jobs and the money you get from being his sugar baby?

“By the way,” Jungkook mumbles, softly pulling your hand towards him. He frowns when he looks at your wrist to find it blank. “I swear it was on this one,” He murmurs as he grabs your other hand, twisting it to find nothing there too.

“Oh, you mean my tattoo?”

“Y-yeah. You have one, right? I saw it at the hospital, and I thought I was hallucinating.”

“It’s here,” You smile pointing at your inner right wrist and Jungkook furrows his eyebrows because there’s nothing there. “I use make-up to cover it up.”

“Why?”

“Habit, I guess,” You shrug. “It’s a gang-related thing and you know how it is in the North. I hid it when I was in college because I didn’t want to freak people out… and well, I don’t really have a reason to hide it anymore but it’s just a habit now.”

“But, no one in the North actually knows much about the gangs. I’m sure they would’ve thought it was some minimalist tattoo you decided to get.”

“I guess,” You exhale, sighing. “I was just a little paranoid about it all, I guess. Didn’t want anything that would make me stand out or whatever.”

“Why three dots instead of a triangle though?”

“Hmm?”

“You said The Trinity’s insignia was a triangle.”

“Oh, r-right,” You hum. “Well, I didn’t want a tattoo at all to begin with and I’m a bit of a baby when it comes to needles, so they let me get away with three dots.”

“You have the weirdest fears,” Jungkook laughs. “I mean, they’re valid, but like in comparison to all the things you’ve seen… I just find it weird that you’re afraid of needles but not guns and knives.”

“What can I say? I like being unique,” You smile, thumb rubbing at your inner wrist.

The short well… interrogation that Jungkook had subjected you to has you feeling nervous. It’s over now but you’re surprised by how much he actually remembers. All those stories you told, you had thought he was barely listening, but he remembers all the little details. You shouldn’t be surprised, he’s done it quite a few times, mentioning random facts that you had said in passing and yet, it catches you off guard every time. It’s okay, you mumble. You had it under control. All your stories are in line, you had made sure of that. But, isn’t it time you start letting people in? How long can you go on keeping all these secrets? Those were questions you didn’t want to answer. Your heart is still thudding against your chest, palms slightly sweaty and maybe that’s why you say what you do next.

“You want to get a drink? You said you wanted to know how we live it up in the South.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean you just got out of surgery… yest— well technically, today.”

“Guess you’ll have to drink for two then,” You smile. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

You don’t even let him answer as you stuff the last donut in your mouth before you take him by the hand and drag him down the street.

One drink. You said you only wanted one drink and turns out one is all that you need. Wendy wasn’t joking because you really are a light-weight. All it took was one soju bomb and that pout has already appeared. It’s the same one you had on at the bar when you begged him to buy shots. It’s the same one that almost made him cave even when he knew you were way past drunk. It’s just… how could he say no to that? You whine, pout on full display as you beg him to share a scallion pancake with you. He has his phone out to record the whole ordeal and you grumble, pawing at it so that he would put it away. Although he doesn’t give you a verbal yes, you order it anyway because the tipsy version of you seems to be more perceptive than the sober version of you. Tipsy you had Jungkook all figured out it seems. Tipsy you knows that Jungkook can’t really say no to you. He laughs, reaching over to ruffle your hair as you smile up at him.

How Jungkook’s never been here is honestly a wonder but then again is it really? You had walked him through a series of dodgy alleyways only to come to a mysterious door. It was like those speakeasy bars they had in the North but instead of a fake door front, the actual entrance to the bar was just ominous looking for no reason. It wasn’t for the aesthetics; the bar owner just couldn’t be bothered to put in the money to make it look inviting.

After stepping into the bar, the two of you had been greeted by an elder man seemingly unbothered, only giving a simple grunt which Jungkook assumed must’ve been his way of saying welcome. The place was poorly lit, paint was peeling off the walls but you didn’t seem bothered one bit. In fact, you seemed rather excited. The establishment resembled what Jungkook would think a brothel would look like with private rooms separated only by screen doors. Truth be told, he was trembling a little when the staff led both you and him down the dark hallway to your own room. You had laughed at the fear that was present on Jungkook’s features but you had reassured him that the food would change his mind. And that it did. Spicy rice cakes with ramen? A combo he hadn’t tried before but boy was he glad he did. As the food started to fill up the table, so did the drinks. You’d set up these drinks for him, making him slam his fists on the table so that his soju glass, delicately balanced on a pair of chopsticks atop his glass of beer, would fall in. It seemed like you never ran out of these intricate set ups and he was in awe with how the North hadn’t discovered any of this yet. You northerners are too busy being posh that you’ve forgotten how to have fun, you had said, and he had only sneered in response because well, to some extent, that was true.

It had been quite some time since Jungkook had enjoyed the prospect of drinking. It was odd that he was having so much fun when there was only you and him in the room. He was always under the impression that he needed a large group of friends for a night of drinking to be even remotely tolerable but you, you’re a one man show. From the fancy drinks you were making him, to the odd games you make him to play, to your choice of food, he didn’t need anyone but you in the room. You move from one topic to the next with ease and he wonders why nights out with his friends couldn’t be like this. Perhaps when it’s just him, Yoongi and Taehyung having a relaxing night out, it came close to this, but otherwise, there was nothing like it.

You barely need Jungkook’s help to finish the scallion pancake. In fact, the boy only had one piece. The food at this bar is your kryptonite… well, food in general is but it’s been far too long since you’ve been to this place. You and Wendy used to frequent this place so much that you could memorize the posters hanging inside each room. They’re still the same, you note. This bar is timeless, never-changing. Even the menu was exactly the same. You liked that though.

“Wendy and I used to come here to celebrate anything and everything,” You smile. “We haven’t been here for months though.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know… It’s harder to find time for these things when I have to work,” You mumble. “Do you have a place like this? Like your old haunt or whatever it is you posh northerners say.”

“Literally no one says that in the North,” Jungkook snorts, his speech slightly slurred from all the alcohol he’s drank. “But… yeah, I guess. Yoongi, Tae and I hang out at Tae’s place all the time. He has an insane view of the city from his penthouse and there’s this amazing takeout place just across, so we always get food from there.”

“Cute,” You smile. “The three of you are inseparable.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s because— and I know how elitist this is going to sound but, it’s because it’s hard to find people who can understand our plight,” He mumbles, and you let out a quiet laugh which garners a playful scowl from him. “There’s just so much pressure in being you know… us. We’re always being watched, being judged, so it’s nice to have each other because when we’re together, we don’t really have to worry about all of that. We can bitch about whatever we want without worrying that we’re flaunting or whatever.”

“Yeah, I get that. Even if I guess I don’t understand your plight,” You say with air quotes and he simply rolls his eyes at you. “It’s nice to have friends that you grew up with and struggled with. Friends you can always count on.”

He nods at that. “Well I’m sure you had friends like that growing up. None of them moved out here to the big city?”

“Oh, I never stayed in one place long enough to have friends like that,” You laugh. “I have Wendy though. She’s like family to me,” You smile. Although, there are many things that you’ve kept from her too. Perhaps you understand what Jungkook meant to some degree because your plight is one nobody would understand.

“Family. That’s sweet,” He murmurs, resting his head in his palm, arm propped up by his elbow. “So what about me then? What am I to you?” He questions, leaning closer, his cheeks tinged red from the alcohol. Jungkook surely has had a few too many glasses of soju, you snort to yourself.

“Hmm?” He hums again, prompting you to answer his question and you lick your lips.

The question had caught you off guard and you hesitate for a second, not knowing what to say. You know Jungkook is enjoying this, the smirk on his lips tells you as much but oh, two can play this game.

“Hmm… you? Well, we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” You answer easily. “I thought you knew this already,” You continue with an expression that’s blank and cool, as if you’re simply stating a fact. The statement leaves Jungkook stunned, his eyes wide because you’ve never said it yourself first but then he sees you smile, trying hard not to laugh.

“My, you looked worried there,” You grin, devilishly so. “You’re the one that gave us the title though.”

Jungkook scowls at you, picking up some leftover lettuce on the table to throw at you.

“I just needed time to process what you were saying. I had a long day,” He mumbles, watching you pick up the lettuce stuck to your shirt. “But, yes, we’re soulmates,” He nods, laughing lightly as he attempts to dodge the same soggy vegetable that you’re trying to throw back at him.

“Only the rich would ever disrespect food like this,” You huff, shaking your head disapprovingly as you place the lettuce on your plate.

“Yeah, yeah, says the one who was trying to toss it right back at me.”

“You know you’re lucky you’re rich and cute so, I’m just going to let that one slip,” You huff, standing up to open the screen door. “Anyway, let’s go? I have to be at the port at 5 and I want at least 5 hours of sleep.”

“S-sure.”

Cute? How is it that you always say things like that so nonchalantly? Unfair, utterly unfair.

Jungkook must’ve been standing there in the middle of the hallway, looking all dazed and unsure which you probably mistook for fear because you’re storming up to him, holding him by his hand to lead him to the exit.

“It’s not that scary, you big baby,” You laugh. “We’ve been in far scarier situations.”

He only hums, letting you tug him along because wow, your hand is so warm and… nice. He’s held your hand 3 times now in the last 24 hours. He likes that. Was it weird to keep count? When did he become this soft? Doesn’t matter… it’s not like you’ll ever know about it. Damn. He shouldn’t have let you order that many bottles of soju. He didn’t think you were serious about making him drink for two.

Jungkook’s pretty much in his own world, lost in his thoughts until he feels your hand slip away from his to dig into your purse.

“Wait, no,” Jungkook frowns. “I’m supposed to pay.”

“Please, I owe you thirty thousand dollars. Let me pay.”

“No. We agreed you’ll only be paying with donuts.”

“Jungkook—”

The elderly man at the counter lets out an annoyed grunt and you apologize, hastily grabbing notes out of your wallet to place on the counter. Jungkook swipes it the moment you put it down, replacing it with his money instead and you frown.

“Let me pay,” You whine as you attempt to snatch your cash away from him but, it’s too late. Jungkook is already pocketing his change.

“Donuts only,” He grunts, placing your cash and wallet back into your purse for you before he grabs your hand and leads you out the door.

“You’re so stubborn when you’re drunk,” You huff.

“You’re stubborn,” He grumbles in return. “Also, I’m not drunk... Just slightly light-headed.”

“You’re tripping over your feet like every 5 steps.”

“That’s because you’re walking so fast,” He frowns as he attempts to get you to slow down.

“I don’t know maybe it’s because I don’t want to get shanked in this alleyway.”

The sentence makes Jungkook jump slightly and he walks faster to match your pace. You laugh at that because the boy was far too gullible. Maybe all your stories about the South had made the place seem a lot scarier than it really is.

“I’m just joking,” You laugh, squeezing his hand. “This area’s pretty alright.”

“I hate when you do that,” He frowns. You only smile in return because it was fun to tease him.

“By the way, you’re such a liar,” You say. “If you’re already this tipsy from just a few soju bombs, I highly doubt you can down 10 tequila shots in a row and still be standing.”

“I can and I’ll show you. Name the time and place.”

“Wow, no need to get defensive now,” You laugh. “You just—”

“Shit,” Jungkook mumbles as he stands in front of his car.

“What?” You query, looking at the vehicle. All the tires were still there, so were his mirrors.

“I can’t drive.”

“Well, okay you didn’t have that much to drink. You’ll be below the 0.08%... maybe... anyway I’m sure the cops will let you pass,” You mumble. Paying off the cops to get out of a DUI is nothing new. In fact it’s the norm. “You can still—”

“No, I can’t do it,” He mumbles. “My fath— No… I’ll just sit here until I sober up,” He hums, taking a seat on the curb.

Oh… Oh right. How could you have even suggested that? Idiot. You’re a bona fide idiot.

You remember seeing the news. You were still young then, but it was all anyone was talking about.

We’re standing at the spot where just last night a car veered off the road and plunged into the river right here in the province of—

Two bodies have been found, both middle-aged men who—

The driver is said to have been under the influence at the time. His blood alcohol levels though not high—

Mr. Jeon, aged 38, the heir to Jeon Logistics leaves behind a wife and a son, only aged—

As Jungkook attended the funeral of his father that week, you attended a funeral too, your eyes swollen from crying even days after the accident. Just as his world fell apart that week, so did yours. That was the week your mother had decided enough was enough.

“I can drive,” You offer. “The last drink I had was more than 2 hours ago.”

“It’s fine… You’ll have to come back to the South and—”

“Come on,” You mumble, swiping the keys out of his hand. “Or I’ll just leave without you.”

Jungkook sighs, scrambling to his feet when he hears you start the engine.

The drive is quiet aside from Jungkook giving you directions from time to time and you feel… bad because he’s only this quiet because of you.

Jungkook has never once mentioned his father, even if he probably knows that you know the story. There probably isn’t anyone who didn’t know about it. For 2 whole weeks, his father’s face was plastered in the newspaper, in TV screens. The police bounced back between claiming there might be foul play involved, to ruling it out completely. There were rumours of tampered evidence and then there was confirmation that the evidence has been left untouched. Everyone was watching, the whole nation wanting to know the series of events that led to the accident. It was anti-climatic in the end. The road had been wet from an earlier downpour. That, coupled with the fact that the driver had some alcohol, had probably led to the accident, said the investigators. Case closed.

He had been so young then and you cannot imagine what it must’ve felt like to lose a parent and have to deal with the media constantly scrutinizing everything. He probably didn’t get time to grieve and if he did, it was on display for the whole public to see. You mean to say sorry, sorry that you made him inadvertently bring it up but you’re not sure if you should mention it at all. In any case, you run out of time because you’re already pulling into his parking bay.

“Wow,” You gasp as you stand at the lift lobby. The floors and walls were lined with marble tiles and you smooth your hand over the surface. “This place is really fancy.”

“You should see Tae’s place,” Jungkook laughs.

“Do you live on the penthouse floor too?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah, of course you do.”

“Why? Do you want to see it?”

“C-can I? I mean I’d love to only if you umm don’t mind… I guess.”

“Of course you can,” He chuckles. “I’ll call concierge to get you a taxi from the unit too.”

Concierge? Wow. So this is how the rich live.

Everything about the place screamed fancy. From the lobby, to the lift and of course Jungkook’s unit itself. Everything was opulent, grandeur. Well, to be fair Jungkook’s unit was a little on the minimalistic side but it still looked expensive. You think it had a lot to do with the grand piano sitting in the middle of the living room. Either way, it’s been a while since you’ve seen anything like Jungkook’s house. The only thing that could come close were the houses the gang bosses lived in.

“The view is amazing,” You breathe, nose almost touching the large glass window. You’ve always seen the city from the South and it’s stunning even from there but this was a different kind of view. You don’t think you’ve been in a building so tall. It was odd seeing the city from within the city.

“Taehyung’s view must be crazy good if all of you choose to hang out in his place over yours.”

“Oh, it’s about the same,” He smiles. “He lives over there,” Jungkook points to an equally as tall building. “But he loves having guests over and I don’t… well not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” He sighs. “Sometimes things get out of hand… Like you see this car collection I have—” He pulls you towards a room, his room you assume, and shows you a fancy looking large glass case.

You had expected those all metal, collector’s edition cars but inside the case, you just find multiple average looking tiny toy cars. In fact, you think you used to own a few of them. They had given them out for a limited time at the gas station as part of a promotion.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone gives me the same look,” He grumbles, noting your confused expression. “It’s just my dad and I used to collect them and we— well, I had all 100 of them… until I didn’t.”

Jungkook had thrown a party a year ago. First it was a few friends but then those friends started inviting their friends and suddenly it was a full on rager. It was all fine and dandy. Jungkook didn’t mind as long as it was still in control, but then he would constantly hear amused cheering from his room and then distant shouting from the streets below. Weird. He ignored it the first few times but after the third time, he slips away from the couch to his room to see what the commotion was about. 5 minutes and a screaming match later, his apartment was empty. Yoongi and Taehyung had never seen Jungkook so angry before and it’s safe to say they never want to ever see him that angry again.

He had 100 cars in the glass case prior to the party and after that, he was only left with 95. Apparently, whoever was in his room had thought it would be a grand idea to toss his toy car 20+ stories down. In fact, they found the idea to be so entertaining, they did it 5 times. After that fiasco, Jungkook swore he’d never have a party in his home ever again and a year later, he still hasn’t. He had scoured the streets that very night and the morning after for the toys, but he couldn’t find any of them.

“I managed to find 4 of them… some online, some in thrift stores but this one,” He points to the empty spot, a simple picture of the supposed car in its place. “I just can’t find it anywhere.”

“Have you tried emailing the company that made them?”

“Yeah,” He sighs. “But they stopped making them a long time ago so they said they couldn’t help.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll eventually find it somewhere, someday,” You smile. “This is a nice room though,” You mumble, looking around.

“Yeah it’s my room so it’s the only one I put effort into decorating,” He laughs. “The rest of the rooms, my mother insisted on decorating.”

“Yeah, I can tell you decorated this one. That’s why this is here and not out there,” You smile, pointing to the TV. “It’s how you impress the ladies, huh?”

“W-what? No? I like to game and watch things from the comfort of my bed.”

“Yeah, sure,” You snort. “This right here screams premium Netflix and ch— Wait. Oh my god, this is amazing,” You hum, as you sit on the bed, testing it out. Maybe you should’ve asked first but you’re lying down on it already. “Wow. If I’m ever rich, this will be the first thing I’ll purchase.”

“You can’t. It’s custom made,” He smirks, lying next to you.

“Of course it is,” You shake your head. “I expect nothing less for his majesty.”

“Shut up. I have long legs and the commercial beds, when they come in the right length, it’s the wrong width, so I got a custom-made one.”

“Whatever you say,” You sigh as you snuggle against his sheets. “Anyway, just give me 5 minutes right here and I’ll go grab that cab.”

“Right, sure,” He mumbles. “Oh... about that. Thanks for driving me home. It’s— I just have this irrational fear because— Well, my father… I uhh—”

“Don’t worry about it,” You smile, patting his hand as if to say he didn’t have to tell you why exactly he didn’t want to drive. “It’s not every day I get to drive a Lambo around anyway,” You smile.

“That’s the only reason you agreed, isn’t it?” He grins, laughing lightly.

“Hey, watch it,” You warn. “Next time, I’ll leave you out there in the scary South to fend for yourself.”

“I’ll do just fine.”

“You’re afraid of stray dogs and you jump at any and every noise you hear. I doubt you’ll last 10 minutes out there.”

“I do not jump at every noise,” He grumbles. “And listen, everyone knows the dogs in the South have rabies, okay? Did you see the ones that chased us that one time? They were frothing in the mouth! Even had the crazy eyes.”

“Those were guard dogs… and we were trespassing which is why the chased us,” You laugh. “Also, don’t lie. If you were close enough to see their eyes, I’m pretty sure you would be dead by now.”

“Whatev—”

His phone rings, cutting his sentence short. He points at you, raising his eyebrows as if to say he wasn’t done arguing yet before he fishes his phone out of his pocket. Staring down at the caller ID, he groans before he answers. His voice sounds smooth, peppy, not a hint of annoyance despite how he seemed like he didn’t want to answer the call. You glance at the clock on the wall as he slips out of the room, not wanting you to hear about the intricacies of his business deals, you assume. It was already half past twelve and you wonder if this is what it’s always like for Jungkook considering that he has taken a few calls here and there when the two of you are having late-night donuts. The calls seem to be a more frequent thing as of late and you pity him because you can see the tiredness in his eyes, you can see fatigue in the way his whole body sags when he gets to the bench at your hangout spot. For some reason, it seemed like he was coming to the South to escape but he could never really run from it all, could he? Everyone thinks his life is all roses, but you know it’s far from it. They think he sits in the office with his feet up on the desk, waiting for time to pass but it seems like he never really does get rest. He always has something on his mind, always asking you if he could optimize the truck routes, if he could organize his warehouse space better. You wonder if you should take him to a karaoke lounge the next time the two of you hang out. Screaming out the lyrics to your favourite songs always helps you forget your problems.

It’s been 15 minutes and the call is still going. You really want to leave but you assume it would be rude to when he’s still on the phone. You sigh, letting your eyes flutter close because god, this bed is so nice. It felt like you were being caressed by a cloud. It’s so soft you almost forget the dull ache in your abdomen. It sounds outlandish, like an over exaggeration but it genuinely felt that way. Maybe you only think so because the bed you have back home is lumpy and hard. Humming, you let your hand slide across his sheets, the material feeling soft to your touch. It’s Egyptian cotton isn’t it? Not that you actually know what that means but you know it’s expensive. You don’t know the slightest thing about thread count either but you’re sure it’s high. You know that one. You knew after a certain number, the price was just ridiculous. You find yourself dozing off a few times but you always snap out of it, only to shut your eyes again. 5 minutes, you mumble to yourself. Just five more minutes and you’re leaving... even if Jungkook isn’t done with his call by then.

Jungkook sighs, pocketing his phone after what feels like an eternity. Mr. An was basically slurring on the phone, asking why his promised shipment of timber has yet to be delivered. Jungkook had to reiterate 5 times that it already has, that Mr. An’s staff had already signed off on it. Only then did Mr. An say, why didn’t you say that earlier? Jungkook knew it was odd that his grandfather had given him such an important client to take care of. It’s now that he realizes that his grandfather was tired of these drunken calls.

When he returns to his room, Jungkook is fully determined to continue the argument, picking right where he left off but he finds you completely passed out on his bed. He prods at you, trying to shake you awake because he knows you’ll be mad at him if he didn’t at least try but like the last time when you were asleep in his car, you’re impossible to wake up.

“Cab,” You mumble in your sleep, accompanied with a slew of gibberish.

“Yeah, come on, I’ll get you one,” Jungkook answers as he tries to wake you up, but you grumble curling into yourself, instead. He laughs before sighing, shaking his head because you even scowl in your sleep. Unconsciously, he uses the back of his hand to stroke your cheek, your features instantly relaxing at the gesture. He feels his heart squeeze at that and he knows he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be lying next to you but it feels nice, safe even being right here.

He doesn’t blame you for falling asleep. You must be exhausted. You had been in the hospital less than 24 hours ago, had your appendix removed and even went to work just hours after. He really wishes you would reward yourself with a break once in a while. If you needed money so badly, why won’t you just let him help you? He had given you a big cheque for a few thousand before, but you had refused that. He has snuck a few extra hundred into the envelope he passes you every week or so but he eventually finds the extra bills in his pocket or car. Anyone in your situation with their head screwed on right would take the money but you… you just didn’t want to. The fact that you let him pay for your surgery at all is a surprise but truthfully, he strong-armed you into letting him anyway. He absolutely abhorred how they treated you at the hospital. It was a look into the reality of your situation, of Southerners in general. How people had so much hate was beyond him.

He exhales, letting his hand drop from your cheeks to play with your fingers instead because damn it, he loves the way your hand feels in his. It’s pathetic, he sighs but… he really likes the little things in relationships. The hand holding, the sneaky kiss on the cheek, the feeling of you in his arms. Well, not that the two of you were in a relationship anyway. He has to keep reminding himself of that. It’s hard to keep that train of thought, especially so when your fingers grip around his softly. He smiles at that, a warmth spreading across his chest when he glances down at his hand, barely enveloped by yours. Against his better judgement, he leans in to kiss you on the forehead, letting his lips linger before he pulls away slowly. He doesn’t want to leave, not yet at least. He doesn’t want to pull his hand away from yours but knowing you, you’d probably have a heart attack, maybe even two if you saw him next to you in the morning. He wonders what that’s like though... waking up next to you, your hands wrapped around him like the last time, him leaning in to kiss your li—  Oh. He shouldn’t be thinking of that. But... still, he wonders, wonders how he even got to this point.

Y/N Lee.

Who would’ve thought a girl he met by chance, in the oddest of places would have him wrapped around her little finger like he was a grade school boy, totally enamoured by his first ever crush. It’s quite the pickle he’s found himself in because, now what? How is he supposed to tell you that all he really wants to do sometimes when you’re sitting on that bench with him is... kiss you? How is he supposed to fight the urge to hold your hand whenever you’re telling him a story with the widest smile on your lips. How does he make you see that even if you don’t open yourself up to anyone at all, maybe... maybe he’s worth letting in. There’s just this warmth that envelops him when he’s around you and it feels comforting to be in your presence, like it was entirely alright to just be him. And that smile, god he’d do anything, say anything, to see it. Ah, but that pout too, it makes him weak in the knees, his heart reduced to a mere puddle whenever he sees it. He knows Yoongi and Taehyung would laugh if they ever found out about the thoughts that are currently swirling around in his mind but what could he say, he’s just a fool who hasn’t met anyone quite like you before.

Time, he hums. In due time, he’ll eventually tell you he likes you or maybe you’ll figure it out, hopefully, because he’s not too good with words. With his finger on the switch and with one last glance, he flicks the lights off and shuts the door quietly. Sighing, he sinks down onto his couch, stretching out as sleepiness washes over him. With a yawn, he lets the thought of you curled up against his chest lull him to sleep. Boy, he really is in a pickle huh?

Your alarm is ringing for perhaps the third time... you can’t really tell because it’s mixing in with the dream you have, playing in the background as if it were a soundtrack. Slowly, you peel your eyes open, reaching into your back pocket where you had left your phone last night. Your hands skim the sheets and—

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This isn’t your room and this most definitely isn’t your bed. You panic as you rise to your feet, quickly grabbing your purse off the table side before you pull open the door. The ruckus you made in his room causes Jungkook to rise sleepily from his spot on the couch. You’re shouting words of apologies, fully intending to make clear how sorry you are but when your eyes dart to the fancy digital clock display, you almost let out a scream. You’re going to be so late for work and given your recent attendance record at work, your boss is not going to be happy.

“I’m so sorry! I’ll call you later to apologize properly!” Is all Jungkook hears you say before you slam his door shut. He can barely keep his eyes open since it is 3 in the morning after all. That’s far too early for anyone to be awake, he mumbles.

You’re practically pacing up and down the sidewalk, trying to stay under the dim streetlight as you wait for your cab. Your boss didn’t seem too happy when you called in to let him know you’ll be a little late today. That was a problem you would atone for once you get to the port. As for the other one… you know, the one where you fell asleep in Jungkook’s bed? Basically, relegating him to the couch in his own home? After he had had paid thirty-thousand dollars for your surgery? You didn’t know how you were going to atone for that one. You’re not sure he’d even pick up your call later. You’re so busy beating yourself up you barely register the sight of a hooded man standing a few steps away from you. It’s only when he speaks that your head perks up, your body freezing in your spot when you hear those words leave his lips. You’d recognize that voice anywhere, recognize that pet name anywhere.

“Hello, Empress,” He smirks, pulling his hood up just so you could see his face. The scar starting just below his eye, stopping right at corner of his lip confirms your worst fear and you back away as he takes a step forward. “Now don’t tell me you don’t recognize me. I know it’s been a while but is that how you greet your family?”

You open your mouth to answer but your throat seizes up and nothing but a whimper leaves your lips. He lifts an eyebrow at you and your eyes widen before you move quickly to bow. 

“Fraternizing with the enemy, I see,” He exhales, head nodding towards Jungkook’s apartment. “Boss would be disappointed. Angry even.”

You haven’t felt fear like this in years. You can barely move, can’t even speak. Every nerve in your body is telling you to run but you’re glued to your spot.

“Don’t worry,” He smiles. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” He winks.

“W-What do you want?” Is all you can muster to ask.

“Oh, nothing in particular.” Yet. But of course he leaves that part out. “Can’t I just see how my favourite niece is doing?”

“How did you find me?”

Your question comes out as barely a whisper and at that he laughs. Ever so timid, his dear niece is.

“Well, I never really lost you in the first place. Never for too long at least,” He smiles, condescendingly so as he steps up to caress your cheek. “You think you and your mum would’ve been safe all this while if it wasn’t for me?”

You don’t want to show him any sign of weakness, but tears are already forming at the corner of your eyes. The sight makes him laugh because aren’t you cute. It didn’t matter how old you are now. You’ll always be a little baby in his eyes. He coos at you, wiping away the tears that fall as you struggle to move out of the grip he has on you.

“Don’t worry, boss doesn’t know... but, nice little province you’ve chosen to hide her in. Enemy territory too...” He mumbles. “Took me a while to find her. Smart little nugget, aren’t you?”

You can barely breathe. You thought your mother was safe. You had taken great care to make sure that she would never be found.

“Why are you scared, Empress? If you think I’m here to bring both you and her back, then you’re mistaken,” He smiles. “There are more pressing matters that I have to deal with... though I must say, I wonder what boss would have to say if he ever saw the two of you again.”

“L-leave my mother alone. She has suffered enough,” You sob and he frowns, using his sleeve to soak up your tears.

“That she has,” He murmurs. “Choices, choices. She had many to make and she made all the wrong ones,” He shakes his head.

“Please. Spare us.” 

You’re practically begging at this point because there’s nothing else you can do. One phone call and life as you knew it would be over.

“From what?” He smiles. “As far as I know, you’re Y/N... Lee. Not of my blood, neither of my interest,” He mumbles as he takes a step back, hand peculiarly grabbing for your arm as he twists it to look at your wrist.

“I can see you’ve tried hard to erase your past. So, Y/N Lee it is,” He hums, frowning as his thumb rubs at the spot your tattoo should be and it is, but the make-up has done a good job of covering it. “Cute little name, isn’t it? L/N just wasn’t working for you anymore huh?”

*Honk*

The sound makes you jump and you quickly pull your hand away to see a cab waiting for you. You glance from the cab to your uncle and he nods toward the cab, as if he was giving you the permission to go ahead. You didn’t need to be told twice. Quickly, you run over, pulling at the door handle in a haste to escape.

“Farewell, Empress.”

That’s the last thing you hear before you shut the door. Your voice is shaking terribly as you tell the driver your address, unsure if any of it was intelligible but he lets out a grunt of assurance and you finally sink in your seat as he pulls away from the curb. With your hands shaking in your lap, you wonder how you’re going to make it through the work day today.

Your uncle laughs as he watches the cab leave, enjoying the look of pure fear on your face. It’s been too long since he’s seen you up close. He’s always been watching from the shadows, always close but not too close. He wonders if he had made himself known far too soon. It was the perfect opportunity though and he couldn’t resist. When else would he ever get you all on your own with no one else in sight?

He whistles an old tune as he strides back to his car, perusing through the gallery on his beloved camera like he always does. There were so many pictures to choose from tonight. He had pictures of you and Jungkook at the noodle store, had a few more of the both of you at the bench, eating donuts. Though he must say, he has many of those already. Those weren’t that interesting, he huffs clicking through the pictures before he smirks. See, now these ones were interesting. He has a few of you and Jungkook going to the bar you love so much and finally the saucy ones of you driving him home and subsequently leaving his house looking haphazard. My, my, now what could’ve happened there? Mrs. Jeon would surely love to see these.

Oh, his sweet niece. Gone are the days where he would seat you in his lap to play peek-a-boo with you. Gone are the days where he would be standing with you in your backyard, teaching you how to slice a throat with utmost precision. He didn’t mean to involve you in this but no, things had unfurled too perfectly for him to ignore this chance. He wanted nothing from you, that much was true but it’s what you could do for him, what he would eventually make you do, that he wanted. Years of keeping tabs on you has finally come to fruition. What he once thought was a useless endeavour would prove to be one that would bring the entire gang to his knees.

Ah, Empress. You don’t seem too fond of the title now, but like it or not, it is your destiny, he believes. You could try running, but in the end, you can never really escape. It’s going to be the coup of the century and you are going to be the centre-piece that unlocks it all... and the best part about all of this? Well, you see he wouldn’t even have to do any of the heavy lifting. You were going to do all the work while he sits back and reaps all the benefits. Ah, bliss. Boss wouldn’t even see him coming. Nobody would. Chaos, he smiles. It was going to be pure chaos and he loved that.

Maybe then, everyone will see just how wrong they were. Maybe then, your mother would see what could’ve been.

You make it to work just barely under 20 minutes late. Your boss is furious, that much you know by the way he basically growls at you. Your side aches and maybe it’s because you ran to the port when the doctor had said to avoid any strenuous physical activity for a few months. That’s the least of your worries though and you struggle to stay focused most of the day. Your mind drifts back to your uncle, to the way he smirked when he talked about knowing where your mother is. You remind yourself to call her later from the payphone. Maybe you should move her somewhere else now. God, why is it that when one bad thing happens, your life tends to descend into chaos? It’s almost as if you were getting punched from every direction possible. You guess your life always has been like that, like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

You can only run away from your past for so long.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Things can only stay secret for so long.

join the tag list here!

A/N: Please don’t drink and drive! Also please don’t bribe the cops!

Ae knee way, tb to when my friends took me to this sketchy af pocha and I was so scared, but the place had bomb af food and super cheap drinks lmao love that place. Too scared to go back without them bc the uncle that owns the place looks like he hates everyone. Genuinely. I love him tho.

Also I wanted to post half of this chapter last week but I think y’all would’ve decked me in the face if I didn’t give more clues as to who hooded mystery dude is!!! I know everything seems random but everything happens for a reason my dudes. Anyway as always, thanks for reading and feedback is always welcome!!! (:

[ask-an-aussie]

The poem that's gone viral after NSW farmer Joanna Collett posted it on the Prime Minister's facebook page:

G’day Mr Morrison, I trust that you are fine, Sorry to be bothering you, but there’s something on my mind I listened to a bloke last week; he had a bit to say You lot may have heard of him? He delivers all that hay?

He spoke of countless hours and the distances they drive Feeding starving stock, to keep bush hopes alive They do not get assistance from your tax funded hat They do it on their own, all off their own bat

I’m not politically minded and I don’t have any clout And I know you’ve done a tour, to learn about the drought But there’s just some burning questions, that have left us feeling beat Why did we fund a foreign land, to learn to cut up meat?

JAnd what about those soccer boys, who went and got all lost You pulled out all the bloody stops, plain just showing off You’ve bigger problems here at home, there’s drought up to our necks So what does your mob go and do ? Give them big fat cheques!

Don’t they have a government to deal with all this stuff? Why should it be up to us, what’s with all your fuss? Should we not be reigning in and look after our own Have you never heard the phrase “charity starts at home”?

I realise there’s many things, that need an allocation And I also can appreciate, complex trade relations I’m not sure if you realise, but if our stock all die, There won’t be any trade you see, your deals will all run dry

As a rule we’re not a whinging lot, our requests are but a few Most of us who work the land, are tested, tried and true We respect that we are guardians, and sustain it for the kids But I often have to wonder, what future will it bring?

I guess all that I’m wondering, is “where’s the Aussie aid”? Wrapped up in a swag of tape, only then to be repaid ! There’s Aussie blokes and chicks out there, putting you to shame Helping fellow Australians, in their time of pain

I’m just a simple farmer, grazier, wife and mum And even though we’re feeding stock, we’re better off than some I’ve never had to shoot a cow, who could no longer stand But many have before me, and I pray, I’m not dealt that hand

So will you take another look; admit that we’re in strife ? And do more than bloody empathise, before another farmer takes their life ? I’d like to think you’ll do what’s right and put Australia first And help your own damn country, before this drought gets any worse

Joanna Collett

Wee Waa NSW

..... I would like everyone to share it Everyday until something is done. Save our Aussie farmers and communities that are doing it tough !! Charity starts at home!

[elle-stevens]

The Break Up Blog - Day Twenty Eight

My sinuses really hate me today. 

My new air purifier definitely helped to clean the air a bit more in my apartment, but I still woke up sneezing and sniffling. I think my early morning sniffles might have more to do with my gastritis than anything. Still, there’s the bad air quality in my office at work that has dust climbing up my nose hairs and making proverbial braids. I wore my face mask for most of the day, which prompted my students and colleagues alike to ask me if I have a cold. Until I get a bigger air purifier, I’m going to start bringing my mini one to school too to save my poor nostrils. 

School was ok today, just busy and tiring. I managed to order some Starbucks for C at work today after my failed attempt last night. Of course, the delivery guy thought he was being super hilarious when he arrived 15 minutes earlier than I planned and kept calling me on repeat to come get my delivery when I was in the middle of class. Not that I missed much; my fourth graders were failing hard at playing Bingo, even though we’ve played it a few times already in class. I don’t know why the delivery guy couldn’t just leave my delivery with the security guard at the main gate; it’s like they need you to hold their hand through the delivery process. 

I got to meet my new colleage, AS, officially today. She seems nice; I hope I can help her get more acquainted with the city and work as she settles into her new teaching job at my school. We had a welcome dinner for AS tonight which consisted of her, C, CI, myself and N. I thought I would be exhausted by the time dinner rolled around, but I managed to save up some energy for it after all. We ate Korean barbeque, which was delicious as always. N walked home and C and AS went to do some grocery shopping for her new apartment while CI and I took a taxi together. Because it was nearly 20:00 when I got home, I decided to exercise in my apartment instead of going all the way to the gym tonight. It was a good workout, but my body and mind felt tired and preoccupied during my exercises. 

Before dinner earlier, N and AS were at the bank opening AS’s new Chinese account while C, CI and I waited for them to wrap up. C was sharing some spam emails with CI and I that she’d received during the day: the usual drivel coming from my home continent preying on the weak and the naive for money to help some poor sod who’s down on his or her luck. Something about that spam email set me off in a big way, which got CI and I talking about honesty and lying to people. CI made the valid point that sometimes you do have to lie to people in order to spare their feelings; like complimenting someone on their outfit or how they look even when you don’t think that person looks particularly good at all. I agree with CI that telling the truth in those instances is pretty pointless and won’t actually be of any help. 

But when it comes to actual lies, lies that wound someone’s dignity and breaks their heart, those are the lies I can’t tolerate anymore. And it’s all because of X. The way I see it, you’re more useful to me being exactly who you really are, even if it means you’re a total creep or a raging bitch. At least I’d know what I was dealing with then and would actively find ways not to cross paths with you. As Oscar Wilde once said: ‘A true friend stabs you in the front.’ CI again made a valid point in saying that poor people are sometimes driven to do desperate and terrible things just to get their hands on even a little bit of money. I can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like and how difficult it must be to go through life not knowing where your next meal or your next pay cheque is coming from. But does that mean that you have to become some villainous, heinous creature who hurts and deceives other people just to get their grubby hands on money? 

But with X, she launched a full-scale invasion on my heart and turned it into ruined, confetti pieces after she was done. And for what? For money? For attention? Those are a soulless person’s greatest treasures. It sickens me that hard times and desperation can turn even the kindest people into emotionally leeching vampires. 

I guess I’m really projecting tonight, huh? I knew I would feel weird today. It’s been 4 weeks since I broke up with X. It’s weird to think of myself as being single after all this time. Sure, it means that I have the licence to fantasise about other people, flirt with other people and even do more than just thinking about other people. But it doesn’t mean that I actually have the heart or the stomach for either of those vices. 

I keep thinking about what X and I had together. In the beginning, it had been beautiful and the purest love I had felt in years. Somehow, it turned to shit in a year and I still can’t even fathom how it happened. I feel like I’ve become the Edgar Allen Poe of dead love and romance. All that’s missing is me sporting a raven on my shoulder to match my mood these days. 

P and G keep saying that I’m a good person and that I deserve to be loved and treated well. But after X rejected me and treated me like less than garbage, I feel spiritless and devalued. It makes that expression ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ a little more poignant to me these days. You only feel beautiful and worthy when seen through the brilliant lens of someone else’s biased perception. I don’t want to feel like that anymore: that I’ll only be valuable and worthy when someone else looks at me. 

I want to be brave enough to look in the mirror and really see myself as I truly am: tiny proportional features like my nose and my eyes with disproportionately massive ‘African child-birthing’ hips, flabby arms, sagging breasts, a roll of fat along my stomach that I often hide with some carefully worn tights. Scars on my arms and legs from where I picked my scabs simply because I was too afraid to ever feel beautiful or worthy in my own skin. Dark, puffy patches under my eyelids where it seems like I’ll never get the rest that I want or deserve at night. The beauty spot on the right corner of my mouth which feels like the only truly unique and remarkable thing about my appearance. 

This is who I really am, flaws and all. There is a lot about me that is imperfect and ugly, but there are small, hidden rivulets of beauty and grace in-between. I need to find that beauty and that grace deep within myself, grasp it firmly by its proverbial cheeks and embrace it without the intention of ever letting go. Only I can find beauty in myself, in other things and in people. Only I have the capacity to love again with my whole heart without worrying about the next time it breaks. 

It’s late and my body and mind are worn out. I’m going to wear my face mask all night if I have to so I don’t end up sneezing my brains out for once. I hope I can find peace in my body and soul as the days keep bleeding into each other. 

The light at the end of this tunnel is taking its own sweet time to finally get here. 

[paperclipninja]

Younger post-ep ramble 5x07 part 1

Ok, so the feelings about Younger 5x07 are real, my feelings are real (see what I did there 😉) and they are many. I have watched the ep many times because there is SO much happening in it and I’ve discovered new gems each viewing. I’ve decided to split my ramble into 2 posts, this one is going to be the episode overall with a bit of a superficial reference to Charles and Liza perhaps, but I’m going to dedicate a separate post to them and their interactions throughout the episode because this one is going to get out of control otherwise!

Words are below the read more and there’s a good chance it’s going to be many words long with intermittent flailing thrown in for good measure. Proceed at own risk.  

I’m always cautiously optimistic going into an episode that has been as hyped as ‘A Christmas Miracle’. Anticipation was high, hopes were high and this ep certainly did deliver, in many many ways. And yes, OBVIOUSLY the Team Charles shipper in me has thought about how the pairing might eventuate and I will most definitely be talking about all things Charles and Liza in post 2/2, but there were also some of the best one liners and moments of the entire series in this ep and it is quite seriously like a Christmas stocking stuffed to the brim with delightful treats!

So first things first, let’s get this whole Maggie/Penelope/Luca thing on the table. WHAT THE WHAT??? I mean, Penelope and Luca most certainly struck me as fishy last ep, but the golden handcuffs and sort-of-flirtatious-but-not-quite-oh-look-now-I-own-you vibe was making me wonder if the movie being referenced in this holiday delight was less Bridget Jones’ Diary and more Silence of the Lambs meets Eyes Wide Shut. So flipping weird. And it actually made me a bit sad for Maggie for two reasons: 1) all of that work Maggie has done is now locked away in storage and that must hurt and 2) while her calling out the weirdness and walking out of the party was A+ excellent, I feel like Maggie would be a very good judge of character and the fact she didn’t pick up on their bizzaro manner and general existence and at least comment on it seemed a little out of character to me. In saying that though, I totally get that as an artist, a big fat pay-cheque is rare and the thought of people buying and displaying all your work would be overwhelmingly flattering. I hope Maggie gets another big exhibition this season with success in the form of slightly less creepy buyers.

I’m going to jump to Kelsey now and her whole situation. Oh Kelsey, you’re in a bit of a pickle now, aren’t you? We all knew that the double dipping was going to end badly and I certainly don’t think we’ve seen it all play out yet, but there was a little part of me that quite enjoyed her torment over how she would manage being at the party with both Zane and Jake. We’ve seen Jake’s true colours in this ep and I gotta say, they ain’t pretty. I was also a bit conflicted about Zane, despite feeling sorry for him and the way he got bumped from the book. Now I said it last week, I’m warming up to Zane more and more and I genuinely felt bad for him, but the comment he made to Kelsey that he should’ve ‘stopped this the second I saw it’ did not sit well with me. Dude, stopped what? The book? Kelsey working on it? Or Kelsey’s free choice about who she sleeps with?

I definitely don’t think it’s wise for Kelsey to be sleeping with an author as she’s trying to get a book finished, but would Zane care what she was doing if he wasn’t also into her? Probs not I’m guessing. I can see that there may be other interpretations of that line, but that’s how I took it and coupled with Jake’s possessive move to get Zane off the book and lock Kelsey in a basement all for himself I feel like these guys, who in one breath hail Kelsey’s intelligence and strength, are also thinking they have some kind of claim over her. I’ll give Zane a chance to redeem himself and put his comment down to the pain of losing the only book he has going at the moment, but Jake is officially bad news IMO. Watch this space, but I sense DRAH-MAH on the horizon.

Two words: Diana Trout. That woman is an icon and some of her lines in this ep were some of the best of the series, hands down. And so were her scenes. The Enzo/Christmas tree situation was heartburstingly adorable. What I love most about this blossoming relationship is that neither Diana or Enzo try to change the other, they really do like the other just as they are (Bridget Jones reference intended). It would have been so easy for the writers to have Diana feel uneasy about Enzo and keep him separated from her public life or for her to feel embarrassed or try to change him, but these two are so absurdly different yet it works and it’s just a joy to watch. I read a couple of comments saying that we’re seeing Diana soften but I actually think that it’s not that, it’s that she’s willing to show her softer side to Enzo. I know that distinction may sound tenuous, but I feel like Diana has always had that side to her but she only reveals it once she feels comfortable with people (which we’ve seen as the series has progressed and her relationship with Liza has developed). I also realised I’ve never seen Diana laugh, heartily laugh, like she did after the champagne cork popped and I have to wonder if that was a break in character that they kept in or if it’s the lighter side of Diana we’re getting insight into? 

And of course the gift exchange with Liza, ugh, I actually cried. It was so incredibly moving, the mutual respect and admiration was emanating from my screen. Not to mention the line that should win an award: ‘Neckwear should inspire envy Liza, not seizures’. I’m dead set laughing as I type it. Diana continues to evolve and surprise me as a viewer and I think she is one of the best characters to have ever been on TV. I can’t wait to see where the rest of the season takes her.

Apologies for the jumping from one thing to another but I have just come back to life after this episode rendered me dead, so my thought processes are still a bit all over the place…ah yes, Josh. Now I know that there is a bit of frustration out there about the way Caitlin is fuelling Josh’s hope but funnily enough, it did not bother me overly in this ep. When Josh comes to the apartment with the gifts (one for Maggie and one for Liza) it becomes clear pretty quickly that Caitlin’s last conversation she had with her mother was around the fact that they’d broken up but were no longer on good terms. Which is beside the point tbh. As Liza herself says, her romantic relationships are none of her business. From that one would hope Caitlin might think perhaps that means there have been or are other relationships other than Josh…but nope.

The thing I really liked about the present scene was that Caitlin’s immaturity is showing here so badly, highlighted only by Maggie’s ‘wtf is wrong with you?’ looks. The idea that a relationship can go from romantic to platonic is beyond her (although she is right that Josh is still in the loves with Liza) and the aspect that bothered me about her going to speak to Josh before he left was more that is was a super immature thing to do. It’s immature in its sweetness and desire to see her mum happy, as well as immature in the lack of consideration that there may be complicated factors at play that she’s not privy to. I get that she thinks she’s helping fix a situation but it’s really very disrespectful after Liza was quite clear about where it stands. So Caitlin doesn’t bother me, if anything it shows that there is a really big disconnect between who she thinks her mum is and who her mum really is and I do hope that is rectified in the near future.

And my take on the Josh situation is as it stood last week. I feel like we’re beating a dead horse here. The whole ‘don’t give up on her’ line, I know the writers want to keep a flame flickering but at this point it’s actually just tiresome. I’m trying to be objective and think how I would feel if I was Team Josh and this was my situation but you know, I legitimately watch this show because I love it overall and if the ship I was digging wasn’t sailing I’d still  be watchng, I just wouldn’t be so invested that I feel the need to write atrociously self-indulgent posts about my thoughts and feelings after every episode...but if my main reason for watching was the ship and it was Josh/Liza I think I actually would’ve stopped watching. With Liza’s growth and development this past season and a bit, even if she doesn’t end up with Charles, it would be a complete disservice to her character to go back to Josh. I said it last week and I’ll say it again, the character of Josh has stagnated so badly that he is quickly becoming unlikable so I really, genuinely, hope that the writers give this character some kind of rejuvenation and a life. At some point the desire to try and keep ALL fans happy by trying to maintain a limping love triangle is going to backfire and no one will be happy.

This is absurdly long so I will close part 1 of this ramble and continue shortly with post 2, the Charles and Liza chronicles…

[kevin-coleman]

Adroa's Twins

Part One

It was a Monday morning in June of ‘37 and I was making collection calls, working my way down a list of delinquent clients who still owed on cases. It was almost 10 a.m. and I had been at it since I opened the shop at 8:30 a.m. Nobody wanted to talk to me. It was typical. They were all tears and sad faces and Oh, help me please, Mr. Porter! but as soon as the bill was in the mail they forgot your name.

The next number on the list belonged to Mrs. McDermid. Two dates beside her name from two previous failed collection calls. I didn’t hold out much hope that I could scratch her name off my list with a fat payday, but I dialled anyway, held the phone receiver against my ear, and listened to it ring. I was about to hang up when someone finally picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. McDermid, it’s Elias Porter.”

The line clicked and went dead. I set the receiver down, picked it up, and dialled again. It rang ten times before Mrs. McDermid answered.

“Mrs. McDermid, it’s Elias Porter of Porter Services. We got cut off.”

The line clicked dead once again. I dialled the number a third time and let it ring until I lost count. Finally she picked up.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” she snapped.

“Why won’t you pay me?” I snapped back. “I did a job for you, Mrs. McDermid. I’m sorry it didn’t turn out the way you expected, but when you hire a private investigator to find out if your husband is cheating on you, you have to accept the possibility that he’s screwing his secretary and pay for the service. Thirty-three dollars and seventeen cents, ma’am. When can I expect to see it?”

“I don’t have the money now.”

“Why not?”

“I’m between pay cheques.”

“When will you have it?”

“When my bloodsucking lawyer wins my divorce and I get half my lousy husband’s so-called estate. Don’t call me again. I’ll call you.”

The line clicked off once more and I dialled again, but gave up when it was clear she had unplugged the phone. I slammed the receiver onto the cradle and rubbed my eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered.

I opened my bottom desk drawer and pulled out the bottle of Glenfiddich and a glass. I wasn’t a morning drinker, but God damn it the morning had some rough edges that needed rounding off.

Collection calls were the bane of my existence and for the last month and a half I spent my days trolling an ever-growing list of deadbeats. Liberty City was going through tough times and cash was scarce, especially for me. I leaned back in my desk chair and tried not to think about closing the business my father had worked so hard to build up, but a paying case hadn’t come through the door in two months and it had been pretty lean for six months before that. I had been working, but people weren’t paying. Meanwhile my office rent was two months past due and with no money in the bank the future was bleak.

That’s when Adroa’s twins turned up and changed everything. Jane Cobb knocked and walked in. Petite and blonde, Jane was attractive and classy and had worked for my old man when he was still alive and now she worked for me. She was my secretary, my accountant, my bailiff, and my confidant.

The best thing about Jane was her clothes. That sounds like a real sexist thing to say, but it's the truth. Jane knew how to put herself together, like Vogue was about to call up and put her in a cover shoot, and I didn't mind in the least. Today's wardrobe was blue pumps, a snug, knee-length navy skirt, wide patent leather belt, and a white silk blouse. The buttons were doing all they could to keep everything modest, but she hadn't bothered with the top three. I was technically her boss and this was bordering on harassment, but I didn't mind one bit.

"Eyes up here, Elias," she said.

I blinked and smiled at her. "Sorry, love. You don't make it easy for me."

"Your 10 a.m. is here," she said, flicking her pen against her palm. "I can let him in after you clean up a bit."

Jane's eyes flicked to the whiskey bottle and tumbler next to the phone. I corked the bottle and swallowed the dregs from the glass and put it all back in my bottom drawer. She cast her disapproving eye over me.

"It's medicinal, Jane," I said. "Doctor's orders."

"And I'm Betty Grable." She leaned over the desk and her blouse spilled open enough that I saw the fringe of her lacy bra. "There's a reason I dress this way, Elias, and it ain't for you. You're a slob in charge of a two-bit operation. You took a great thing your father left you and you ran it into the ground. If it weren't for me and the twins here, you'd have zero customers."

"Jane, that hurts." It really did.

"Zero, Elias. Zero. I don't know why I keep coming to work here. It certainly ain't for the pay."

“People aren’t paying their bills, sweetheart. What do you want me to do? Drive up to Mrs. McDermid’s house and break her legs?”

Jane walked around the desk and stopped in front of me. She said, "Stand up."

I stood and she started fiddling with my tie.

"You've got soup stains on this thing," she muttered, cinching it up around my Adam's apple. "And this collar ain't been ironed in a week. It's like you sleep in these clothes." She snagged my suit jacket off the back of the chair and forced me into it, squared the shoulders, smoothed the lapels. She twisted her red mouth in disapproval. "That's as good as it's gonna get, I suppose."

"God you're hateful," I said, smiling. I liked it when she fussed. "Send in Mr. 10 A.M."

She retreated to the door and opened it.

"Mr. Jones," she said. "Mr. Porter will see you now."

Through the door walked a little man, bald with silver-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his little round nose. He carried a square suitcase of brown leather in his left hand and a black bowler in his right hand. His black suit was clean and pressed and cost more than six months office rent. The gleam off his leather shoes nearly poked my eyes out. He stopped just inside the door and blinked around. Whatever he thought of the dump he kept it to himself.

"Mr. Porter," he said and approached the desk. He extended his delicate hand and I shook it. His skin was warm and dry and smooth as glass. "You come highly recommended."

"I do? By whom?"

Jones chuckled softly, like a grandfather over a little baby.

"It's an expression, Mr. Porter," he said. "I picked your name at random out of the phone book."

Jane smirked and left us alone, slamming the door after her. Everybody was out to roast me today.

"Have a chair, Mr. Jones," I said. He inspected the wooden chair in front of him, then shook out a handkerchief and wiped this week's dust off the seat and lowered himself onto it. He lay the suitcase across his lap gingerly, as if he were carrying around the Ten Commandments. I sat down behind my desk and leaned back.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Jones?"

"I have a job," he said. His voice was light and soft as a bird. "A simple job, but an important job. One for which you would be paid handsomely."

"How handsome is 'handsome'? Are we talking handsome like me on a sober day or handsome like Errol Flynn."

"How does the tune of $500 sound?"

I kept my composure but it was tough. $500 would cover office rent for half a year. It would keep me whiskey and cover the back pay I owed Jane.

I leaned back in my chair and packed the bowl of my cherrywood pipe. Jones took out a gold cigarette case, put a smoke between his lips, and lit it from a match. He left the case and the matchbook on the edge of my desk.

"Not going to lie, Mr. Jones," I said. “Five hundred dollars sounds like music to my ears right now. What do you need for that price?"

He blew smoke at the ceiling, reached down, and patted the leather suitcase.

"Take this suitcase for a ride on a train."

The colour drained from my face.

"Mr. Porter?" Jones leaned forward. "Mr. Porter, are you well?"

I was not well. Far from it. I was terrified of trains.

Copyright 2022 Kevin M. Coleman

[welcometowcwmondaynitro]

WCW Monday Nitro 22/07/1996

WCW opens this week with a shot of Mickey Mouse...

Because why not, I guess. As Tony welcomes us to the program we get a better image of the entrance area:

Probably should have opened with that instead of Mickey to be honest, but what do I know?

We’re treated to a shot on Tony and Larry Z with a VERY excited guy to their left.

That dude is ready for some WCW action. Going to be brutally honest and say neither of those shirts do Larry or Tony any favours.

Schaivone talks about the Olympic Games and Muhammad Ali lightning the torch at the opening ceremony. They then show video of Bishcoff giving a cheque to Ali at Halloween Havoc 1994, for a charity of some kind I assume.

Ali in his prime would have been 100% nWo, for the record. 

As Tony continues to go on about this, there are two ladies in the crowd looking very confused:

Like the cameraman is actually an alien or something.

They then switch to Shaq with Hogan, for some reason...

Again, from years ago. Not sure what relevance this has to the current program. Shaq looks like he’s just realised Jimmy Hart is squeezing his ass, though.

Tony says they will have an answer tonight from the Giant as to whether he’ll accept Hogan’s challenge for the Hog Wild PPV on August 10th. Larry says the Dungeon of Doom will force the Giant to defend his title against Hogan. Because you obviously can’t say no to Sullivan and those stupid, painted on eyebrows.

They show the Outsiders’ bedsheet stunt from last week (it’s amazing how much of the Outsiders they show on this program, considering they apparently don’t want them there).

Our first match begins 3 minutes and 30 seconds into the program. The Blue Bloods music is playing and I’m hoping it’s No Fucks Given Steven Regal, but unfortunately it’s just Squire Dave Taylor along with Jeeves. 

Tony says this is “the hottest ticket in Orlando”, which is funny as I’m not sure the people there actually paid for tickets. I could be wrong but I think they were just allowed in as general park guests.   

Next out is the eternally pissed off Scott Norton. The commentators tell us that Ice Train Vs Scott Norton has been signed for Hog Wild, on the basis of last week’s argument I guess.

 “Squire” Dave Taylor Vs Scott Norton

The Squire is the bad guy here, pretty much just because he isn’t American. The crowd chant “USA” at the start of the match to confirm Taylor is not welcome. This match consists largely of Taylor hitting about twenty european uppercuts whilst running into Norton a few times and falling over. Then this happens. 

Taylor is thrown over the top rope onto the floor. No big deal, right? WRONG. The ref calls for the fucking bell and disqualifies Norton. There is no crowd reaction whatsoever. This was a total waste of time for all involved.

“Squire” Dave Taylor defeats Scott Norton via Disqualification.

The pair of them brawl on the outside for a while as Tony and Larry finally catch up to the fact Norton has been disqualified, as if the bell ringing constantly wasn’t a big enough indicator. 

Norton carries Taylor on his back past the announce team, including the silent blonde woman, and they all duck to avoid being hit by Taylor’s boot or Norton’s girth. Taylor then just kind of falls off Norton’s back and rolls onto the floor. The referee declares Taylor the winner, and he’s very pleased with this. 

Wonderful. Jeez, have only 7 minutes of this show gone by so far?

IRS, aka VK Wallstreet, is cutting a pre-taped promo for his upcoming match against Konnan.

You’ve gotta love the dollar symbol on his jacket. Just to let you know he’s all about money.

Anyway, he tells Konnan that “VK Wallstreet knows international markets and knows international superstars”, he calls K-Dogg the “kingpin of Mexico” but that there’s going to be a “hostile takeover” and Konnan had better be ready. He says this with all the intensity of an infomercial about the benefits of herbal soap.

We come back and Mean Gene is with Arn Anderson, Mongo, Benoit, Debra, Woman and Liz.

They’ve set up that fucking VIP area again. WHY CANDLESTICKS? IT’S STILL LIGHT AND THEY AREN’T EVEN LIT. WHY A MASSIVE PINEAPPLE AND A BIG BOWL OF FRUIT? 

Well, at lest they’re using the area I suppose. Gene asks where Flair is. Anderson says it might be a question in Gene’s mind but it isn’t in any of theirs. He says Flair likes expensive cars and beautiful women, but that he likes one thing more than anything else. Gene says “he likes to showboat” and Arn continues “he likes to make an entrance”. I suppose that’s broadly the same thing. Arn says Flair will be here “right on cue” then takes a bite out of an apple. 

Doesn’t look very tasty.

Gene switches to Mongo and says he’s got his work cut out for him tonight. Mongo yells “OH! Thank you Mean Gene” and says it’s been his pleasure to “take care of a few pretty boys in the WCW” and now he gets a shot at the “real pretty boys” in Macho, Luger and Sting. One of those three fits that description a lot less than the others. Mongo is certainly happy though.

Okerlund suggests to Benoit that Sting, Luger and Macho Man might take out their frustrations regarding the nWo on the Horsemen tonight. Chris Benoit says the three of them will experience the crippler first hand, “unrelentless, vicious, merciless. Silent but violent”

Not sure what the fuck Arn is doing with his face here - did he bite into a sour part of the apple? - but for the record “unrelentless” isn’t a word. You could tell Benoit knew he’d fucked up as he paused briefly after saying it... but it was too late. 

Gene gets a bit too comfortable and asks Mongo for a banana. Mongo pretends to throw it at Gene, who reacts like Mongo is about to chuck a rock at him.

Arn is also holding up a banana. 

Our second match is set to begin. 

Why this guy is wrestling rather than checking the stock market or whatever else is beyond me. There’s an “IRS” chant as he comes out. 

Next out is Konnan looking... colourful.

I swear these guys both came out to the exact same generic, plodding instrumental rock song. Most people are cheering Konnan, but...

Check out the guy on the right. He is booing and giving the thumbs down to Konnan as aggressively as he possibly can. He looks fucking enraged. There is a sharp contrast in style between him and the three beside him. 

Konnan Vs VK Wallstreet

Larry says that Konnan wants the US title back because “he might not get back into the country without it”. It’s not a green card, Larry. 

There’s a fat kid in the front row entertaining himself by doing poses.

In fairness the match is nothing to get excited about. 

VK “IRS” Wallstreet dominates the match and spends the bulk of it working on Konnan’s leg. At one point Larry starts talking about putting women in their place again, but Tony shuts it down straight away. 

Fat kid and his mother or father (can’t really tell) are waving at the camera a lot. 

Well at least they’re having fun I guess. Dat Marvin the Martian t-shirt.

There’s a lot of rest holds in this one. Fairly sure I heard some “boring” chants. 

Match ends when Wallstreet hits Konnan with a samoan drop (which Tony calls the “Wall Street Crash” - geddit?) but then Konnan rolls him up for the pin and this one is over.

Konnan defeats VK Wallstreet via Pin.

Okerlund is back with Sting, Luger and the Macho Man.

Sting is half-hopping on one leg like he forgot to take a piss before he came out. 

Gene notes to Lex Luger that Flair isn’t here yet. Luger says Flair is “probably somewhere”. Yes, you’d hope so. Luger says that last week he got “stomped into a mudhole” (but wasn’t walked dry), “but where were (sic) everybody else? The Stinger and the Macho were in Japan”. He pauses for a moment, giving the camera a look...

Before repeating multiple times that they are here to make “a statement” - seriously, he says this about five times in the space of a minute. 

Sting says that there’s only one guy around here who rides around here in a “big fat limo” and he can “stick it” ... Gene’s face here is hilarious.

Um...

Anyway, Sting says he doesn’t care where Flair is, he just wants to chomp on a Horseman tonight. Alrighty. 

Gene says to Savage that he knows the Horsemen very well. Macho yells that he just wants to fight everybody and get it over with in one night. Oh, Macho, if only you knew.

Another Glacier promo airs. It’s funny because the original promos said “Glacier - coming July 1996″, then it changed to “Glacier - coming soon” and now it just says “Glacier”. From what I remember he debuted in September, so... yeah. Not sure what the delay was other than the realisation Glacier was a really shit concept... but I suppose after all the money spent on vignettes they felt they had to put him out there. We’ll get to that.

Tony says we’re about to see a “brand new 8-man tag”, as if that hasn’t been done before, then there’s a vignette on the participants. It starts with the four of them just... standing on some bridge, whilst generic rock music plays.

I think that’s “jobber” Jim Powers on the right, aloof from the group. He’s way too cool to be standing around with those dorks. Then Powers is walking towards us on the sand taking his shirt off, so we’re now essentially watching Baywatch...

He throws down the t-shirt aggressively, like he’s angry, but we don’t know what he’s angry about. Did he open the fridge and find that his last can of tuna had been eaten? Did he find his girlfriend cheating on him with another dude? Did another wrestler steal his “happy juice”? We’ll never know. I’ve just realised Powers is what would happen if you fused early 90′s Scott Steiner with Rhyno. 

Anyhow, we basically see the exact same shots of Joe Gomez, Alex Wright and the Renegade. Close ups of their faces followed by them walking towards us on the sand taking their shirts off whilst the same generic rock music plays. WCW does realise this show is watched largely by men, right? I mean, I’m sure some guys enjoyed that, but I can’t help but think the general demographic isn’t going to be enthused by these guys posing like they’re in a crossover between Baywatch and a boy band video.

The original JOB squad. 

We thankfully cut back to the arena (where that same fucking song still is playing) and Tony says this will be a “wild and woolly” eight man tag. I’m pretty sure only half of that description makes sense. 

Schiavone tells us a “new member” of the Dungeon of Doom is about to be revealed in this eight man tag. This should be good. Sullivan did say he wanted to bring “all athletes” into the Dungeon so maybe it’ll be Linford Christie. 

Three members of the DoD come out (along with Jimmy Hart), then suddenly a ginger guy wearing stereotypical old Irish clothes comes running out. As he sprints around the ring baring his teeth like a rabid dog, Tony says that he’s called “the leprechaun”. 

I mean, it’s not worse than “the Shark”, but for goodness sake. It’s basically a normal-sized version of Hornswoggle acting like he has the infection from 28 Days Later. This guy is better known as Sgt. Buddy Lee Parker and was one of the main trainers at the WCW Power Plant. This was clearly a demonstration of how some gimmicks will leave you dead on arrival.

The Original JOB Squad Vs The Dungeon of Doom

We are literally about ten seconds into the match before Tony says “there’s a disturbance in the back” and the cameraman literally turns away from the ring and starts running towards the backstage area. Because fuck the match. Some asshole is constantly blowing a whistle, also, which is annoying as hell.

We see a bit more of the match before cutting again to the back.

Hard to see in the dark light but basically the Outsiders have entered the production truck, which evidently has absolutely no security in place whatsoever. It’s amazing how Hall and Nash are pretty much able to do as they please with no security there to try and intervene. 

The Outsiders make the screen fade to black in and out. Tony and Larry are asking how and why Hall and Nash are able to waltz in and just start fucking around with a pretty huge TV show’s live production. Good questions.

Hall and Nash put in headsets and start directing camera shots. Obviously as the TV cameras are actually focused on them they are literally affecting nothing, but... whatever. They look like they’re having a lot of fun, and in fairness this is probably more entertaining than the match going on in the ring.

We do start seeing random crowd pans. 

This kid’s tank top appears to be a few sizes too big. It’s literally falling off him. At first I thought it said “milf” along the top but I don’t think it does. I’m fairly sure that wasn’t a term in 1996. Those were more innocent days. 

WCW yellowshirt security finally arrives and calmly ushers the Outsiders out of the production truck, telling them “we’re trying to do a show”. No shit. 

We go back to the match, which Tony calls “high impact”. We wouldn’t know because we’ve literally seen nothing of it. Schiavone is getting more and more upset by the Outsiders being at “master control”, as he keeps calling it, and says “it’s a crime”. Well... yes, it probably is. 

As Jim “Jobber” Powers stands around outside the ring...

Holla! Teddy Long comes out and informs him next week on Nitro HE’S GOING ONE ON ONE WITH... no, no he doesn’t. We can’t really hear what he’s saying because Zybszko is yelling, asking why Long is out there. 

Powers is fired up by whatever Teddy says and starts cleaning house on the Dungeon. The match breaks down, then out comes the Giant.

He chokeslams the Renegade, Gomez, Powers and “Junior Hitler” Alex Wright. The jobbers are disposed of, the match is obviously thrown out.

The Original JOB Squad defeat The Dungeon of Doom via Disqualification.

Giant accepts a well deserved round of applause for ending that match.

Okerlund rushes to the ring to get involved. He tells Jimmy Hart “you scare me... especially when you’re behind me like that.”

OK. By the way, check out the back of Jimmy’s jacket.

Now if the Taskmaster actually made the effort to put that facepaint on then he’d actually look slightly less stupid. Instead he just chucks on a couple of silly eyebrows and says “that’ll do”. Put a little pride in your work, Sullivan.

Gene asks Giant whether or not he’ll accept Hogan’s challenge for Hog Wild. Giant says that when he came into WCW it was his mission to win the World Heavyweight Championship, and he did that. He said once he won the title he “swore an oath” to defend the belt wherever he needed to defend it. That’s kind of how it works when you’re a champion anyway, but sure. 

Giant says that whilst Hogan has been off in Hollywood making movies and trying to win an Oscar (lol), he’s been wreaking havoc as the “cancer” of WCW. Giant says that once the nWo turned up WCW came running to him, asking what they can do about the nWo. Giant says he’ll chokeslam them all in the middle of the ring. There you go. Easy solution. What was everybody so worried about? 

Gene says to Jimmy Hart that “we saw you at the top of the program with Shaquille and Hulk” ... does Okerlund realise that was in the distant past? Hart ignores Gene and simply says “Hogan, the Giant will be ready for Hog Wild”. Good to know.

The Giant has at least one supporter behind him. 

There’s an advert for WCW Saturday Night, before we cut straight back to a match. The entrances were not televised so we’ll get straight into it.

Diamond Dallas Page Vs Prince Iaukea

I had to google the Prince’s last name. Easy to say, harder to spell. It’s just a case of getting all the vowels in the right places. 

Prince is still wrestling barefoot for some reason. You would have thought somebody would have advised him to put some boots on by now. They aren’t just a fashion accessory, kid.

This match lasts a couple of minutes before Page bounces off the ropes and hits the diamond cutter.

Diamond Dallas Page defeats Prince Iaukea by Pinfall.

Chavo appears in an “up next” promo where he basically tells Dean Malenko to get ready for a fight.

Those eyes mean business.

We get a promo video on the Benoit/Sullivan feud. It focuses on Sullivan’s worrying obsession with taking his opponents to the men’s restroom. No comment.

Chavo Jr is out... no name graphic, though.

For some reason these people are dancing along to Chavo’s generic rock theme...

Except the little girl in the bottom left, who looks bored beyond belief. In her defence, it’s not been a stellar night as far as matches are concerned.

Deano is out next... no name graphic for him, either. I wonder if the Outsiders legit fucked up something in the production truck? 

Chavo Guerrero Jr Vs Dean Malenko

The match begins and there are two oddities. Firstly I’m fairly sure the bell doesn’t ring to start the match, it just starts. Also the camera is panning across the crowd/nitro logo and totally misses the match starting. Good job. Maybe the Outsiders are actually still in the production truck controlling this thing.

A fast paced start to this one. Stinko eventually slows it down and starts hitting a bunch of suplexes and shit. Hour two is about to start and Tony has to remind us about the countdown because the little dynamite count down stick that’s usually in the bottom right corner is not there. I guess they really can’t get any on screen graphics up!

Fireworks go off and Eric Bischoff comes screaming through the audio as if he’s yelling to us from the end of a telephone line. They eventually get this under control, and Bischoff is way more enthusiastic than Tony was towards the end of that first hour.

Bischoff says that Heenan looks nervous, and although Heenan starts to talk you can’t actually hear him. He’s wayyyy in the background. Looks like production glitches aren’t just limited to the onscreen graphics. Some kind of gong sound affect briefly cuts off Bischoff before Heenan comes roaring into commentary on an unnecessarily high volume. 

Malenko continues to work over Chavo as a lone person chants “boooring”. It really isn’t. The match is decent enough. 

I’m telling you, that fat kid and the people who I assume are his family must be some of the most annoying people on the planet judging by how they’re acting like the front row. They’ve spent most of the show waving at the camera, making stupid poses and pretending to ‘fight’ each other. See example below: 

To be fair to the guy on the far left, he’s not really getting so involved with it, but mustache, pink shirt and the chubby funster are just acting like idiots nonstop. Check out the expression of the kid sitting next to fatso:

Yeah. I feel for you.

Malenko has Chavo in this hold for a while, as fireworks randomly start going off. 

Towards the end of the match Jimmy Hart randomly appears to start shotuing encouragement to Malenko. It wasn’t really needed as Malenko has been in pretty much total control for 95% of the match anyway. 

Malenko gets distracted by the mouth of the south, which allows Chavo to sneak up from behind and nearly get the roll-up victory.

But he only gets a two count. Chavo then attempts an inside cradle for another two count.

Match ends when Chavo jumps off the top turnbuckle, but is caught in mid-air by Malenko, slammed to the mat and then wrapped into the Texas Cloverleaf. Game over. 

Dean Malenko defeats Chavo Guerrero Jr via Submission. 

Bischoff continues to hype up Hog Wild with the tagline of one million bikers and you, or whatever. They all get in free so no gate receipts for WCW. Great idea. 

Meng is yelling largely unintelligible stuff. Jimmy Hart tells Ice Train that after he faces Meng he’ll be “cold as ice”. So, dead then? 

We’re back with Bobby and Eric, who says the Outsiders were “slippery enough” to get into the production truck. I mean... come on. Look at them. Two guys over six and a half feet. They aren’t ghosting in there, are they? It’s just lack of security. 

Eric then starts talking about the Giant/Hogan match, he says “talk is cheap, Hogan, and so are you”. There’s a lot of accusations you can level at the Hulkster, brother, but being cheap certainly isn’t one of them. Dude was one on hell of a wedge. 

We’re onto the next match, out comes Ice Train...

Bischoff reckons Ice Train could be one of “the brightest stars in the years to come”. Not quite, Eric, not quite. They’ve at least got the on screen graphics back up, so that’s something. I do love how happy Ice Train looks when he comes out though.

You get the feeling he’s just a super positive guy. 

The crowd are apparently loving the Train...

Except the little girl in the right. I think she’s actually crying. “No more jobbers, please”.

His opponent is Meng.

Get the feeling this one could be quite a stiff match. Ice Train is an absolute tank and Meng is... well, Meng. Speaking of Meng, Eric Bischoff says that “one hundred years ago, these people were cannibals”. I’m not sure that’s true. Apparently Tonga was known as “the friendly islands” when first discovered by European settlers and that was in 1773. It wasn’t the amazon jungle. 

Ice Train Vs Meng

Ice Train starts off this match with some impressive agility, managing a leapfrog over Meng and hitting him with a flying cross body. 

That is one heavy collision. 

Teddy is out here again, watching the match. This guy is all over the place recently. 

Meng and Train exchange some brutal chops outside the ring, before they get back inside and Train takes control. Meng swings momentum back his way and hits a huge leg drop. Meng pretty much continues to dominate. The match is very slow, as you might imagine. 

The match ends when Meng and Train are fighting on the outside, and suddenly Scott Norton appears and attacks Meng.

Norton rams Meng’s head into the ringpost and that’s a DQ.

Meng defeats Ice Train via Disqualification. 

Norton yells into the camera that he’s got Ice Train’s back, and Train won’t have to worry about anything until Hog Wild.

Could have just told him face-to-face, he’s literally a few feet away, but OK. Also not sure how this is watching Train’s back, he just got the guy disqualified. It’s not like Train was being double-teamed by the Dungeon. 

A promo airs of Hogan’s heel turn at the Bash of the Beach and subsequent events, with an attempt at dramatic storytelling by some guy. He asks “who’s next to join the New World Order?” 

Up next...

Eddie says to never underestimate a person, even after you’ve beaten them. Um... well, by that point it doesn’t really matter, does it? I guess he means in the subsequent rematch. 

We then get another Glacier promo. The same one as earlier in the night. They could have at least made two or three to help add variety. 

Now it’s a promo for Hog Wild. Jeez... are we ever going back to the arena? 

Finally, out comes Psychosis.

He has cool music. I can remember thinking Psychosis in general was a decent wrestler with an interesting look. A shame he never really did anything useful in WCW.

Eddie it out and he gets a random burst of pyro from the top of the set. 

Eddie Guerrero Vs Psychosis

Early “Eddie” chant from the crowd. 

Fast chain wrestling to open the bout. It continues in typical lucha fashion. Eddie clotheslines Psychosis over the top rope...

That’ll be a DQ, right? It was for Scott Norton earlier. No? No. Apparently not this time. Always cool when the rules are just applied whenever it suits the storyline. Helps build consistency. 

Well anyway, Eddie flies off the top onto Psychosis...

Bischoff says this is what makes WCW the most exciting place to be. What, rules applied differently depending on the match? Sure, very exciting.

Eddie rolls Psychosis back into the ring, hits a belly-to-back suplex and gets a two. Psychosis manages to hit some offence, then gets up onto the top turnbuckle and hits a flying spin kick.

Eric says that it is “magic”. Psychosis hits a suicide dive on Eddie, then a guillotine leg drop from the top rope.

The landing looks brutal on the back and buttocks though. Bischoff mentions that Psychosis is from “Triple A” and also name drops NJPW, which is interesting, as usually they just say “Mexico” or “Japan” rather than naming specific promotions. From what I remember WCW did have a working relationship with AAA and NJPW so it makes sense for them to mention the companies. They just don’t normally do so.

Match ends when Eddie hits a frankensteiner off the top rope on Psychosis, then gets up there again and flies with the frogsplash...

Doesn’t get much air on it so the landing looks kinda rough for poor old Psychosis. Anyhow, your winner is Eddie Guerrero. 

Eddie Guerrero defeats Psychosis via Pinfall.

Eddie has possibly been the most over wrestler on the show so far. Not a high bar, granted, but still...

Ric Flair’s music hits and some random guy is peering out of the “C” of the WCW sign.

Hello.

We’ve got two horsemen and three horsewomen (?) but no Slick Ric. 

We come back from a break to this...

Arn Anderson peering through blacked out limo windows, I assume looking for Flair. I find it odd that Flair hasn’t so much as contacted his best friend to let him know where he is, and Anderson instead has to resort to trying to see through dimmed limo windows. I know this is the era before cell phones were a big thing but surely somebody could have borrowed Booker T’s huge ass phone to make a call.

Arn eventually gives up and walks to the ring. Looks like he’ll be taking Flair’s place. 

Out come Sting, Luger and Savage.

The name graphics have disappeared again, by the way. Never mind.

Bischoff is insinuating that Flair might have joined the nWo. Heenan refuses to believe it. 

Mongo, Benoit & Arn Anderson Vs Sting, Luger & Savage

Sting and the Endomorph start things. Anderson pushes Sting, who shoves Arn back. Arn goes flying like Sting smacked him with a sledgehammer. Sting gives Arn a back body drop, then Benoit enters the ring. 

Dealt with.

Macho is wearing an extremely colourful outfit.

Like somebody took a paintbrush and just went crazy. It works for him though.

Mongo hits a fairly basic neckbreaker and the commentators act like he just performed a flying headscissors. “What a move from Mongo!” yells Heenan. Yeah. He then calls Mongo “phenomenal”. I think we have very different definitions of that word, Brain.

Mongo hits one if the shittiest looking drop kicks I’ve ever seen.

Heenan goes wild, screaming “look at that drop kick out of McMichaels!” ... maybe he’s actually being sarcastic. 

We get a shot of the limo...

Did they not do this same schtick a couple of weeks back? Just ban limos from the area. Problem solved.

Benoit beats on Sting in the ring. I don’t think Luger or Savage have literally done anything yet. Sting’s done all the work. 

The Horsemen are still beating on Sting. There’s only a few minutes of the program left so we aren’t going to see much from Macho or Luger tonight. Easy money. 

After what seems like an eternity Sting FINALLY tags in Luger, who comes in and starts decking all three of the horsemen.

Luger’s body is extremely shiny. It’s really noticeable.

The match starts to break down with all six men fighting in the ring.

You know something is about to go down. The camera cuts to the women - Debra is about to throw the metal briefcase in to Mongo, but for some reason Woman grabs it before she can and they have a brief tug-of-war. The Macho Man then appears and grabs the briefcase off them.

Bad intentions.

Savage comes in with Mongo’s metal briefcase and whacks Benoit in the back with it. Luger makes the cover...

And your team of babyfaces win using decidedly heel tactics. OK. I guess if you can’t beat them, join them? The crowd are delighted either way. 

We come back after the break and Mean Gene is in the ring with Sting, Luger and Savage. Something gets thrown in the ring, Gene says “please lady, don’t throw your underwear in here. It’s in bad taste” ... at a theme park, I would say so. Jeez. Macho says “that’s OK”. He doesn’t mind.

Sting is first up. Gene asks him about the match he and Luger have against the Outsiders at Hog Wild.

For some reason Sting is holding on to the briefcase. Not a bad idea if the nWo are around in fairness. He seems to be pondering Gene’s question carefully.

Sting says that last week “the Total Package was feeling kind of beat down, you know what I’m saying?” ... well, yes, he was quite literally beaten down. A bit harsh for Sting to be making light of that but whatever. Sting says he and Luger aren’t feeling down, they’re just feeling mean. “I mean real mean”. Sting says he knows when the Outsiders’ birthdays are, and he doesn’t believe in horoscopes, and he was thumbing through the newspaper and the PPV is going to be really bad for them. The date matches Leos and that makes the Outsiders Leos... erm... 

Indeed.

Luger says that the Outsiders have been pushing all the wrong buttons since they first came onto the scene. He says they’ve done a good job of pushing the three of them over the edge. Luger screams that he’s “losing it”, he says he cares about WCW and the Outsiders have had nothing but “disgust, disdain, and sarcasm” for it. Sarcasm doesn’t seem as bad as the first two but I get where he’s going. He says that at the PPV they’ll learn what he, Sting, Macho, WCW and the fans mean. I rag on Luger sometimes but I thought he had good, intense delivery here. He can cut a good promo when he isn’t stumbling over words.

Macho Man is next.

He says he’s talking directly to Hogan (with Luger giving the evil eye in the background). Macho says he’s going to beat Hogan up in the aisle before he gets to the ring to even face the Giant at Hog Wild. You might have wanted to keep that plan to yourself, Macho. Savage says the army, the navy and the militia aren’t going to be able to stop him kicking Hogan’s head in. Not sure the navy would have anything to do with it unless the fight spills onto a boat somewhere, and what’s the difference between the army and the militia? 

Macho finishes the promo by saying “we’ve got a date, don’t be late, suckerrr!” as Luger gurns into the camera and Sting makes a weird face.

Our heroes, ladies and gentlemen.

The show ends there. So no Outsiders or Hulk Hogan. We never find out who was in the limo either. Could have just been somebody randomly parked there, terrified as the Endomorph creepily tries to peer in. 

“If I stay really still and quiet, he’ll go away eventually.”

[infiniteshawn]

Shonda gave him a FAT cheque, bigger than anyother cast member and he still choose to leave. I somewhat get it because with these shows that have huge followings, if you stay too long you can't do other stuff, or that's what people say but look at Sandra Oh. She was on grey's for so long and left and got multiple jobs. it just depends on if you're good. PS i've missed you. hope you're well ��️

I’m good, thanks!! 😊 yeah I think, as for the whole “stuck” with Shonda thing, he might have been ok since his season was first, so perhaps staying would have been better for the show? But if it’s not better for him then it’s not better for him 🤷‍♀️

[noexit-ff]

6.

Putting my blunt out blowing the smoke out from my lips “she can sing” Lo shouted over the music, nodding my head sitting back in the seat “she can” rubbing the side of my face, Ciara stopped singing “did I do good?” she said in the mic in the booth, I laughed “tell her to come out. We can stop” I said to the sound engineer, she called me to help with the album she is doing so I agreed and it’s extra money for me. I don’t mind getting these cheques from these songs, I need to do my own yet but Robyn is busy preparing for hers in New York. Just before France she is releasing that shit “did I do good? You can say if I haven’t” I don’t know why she is doubting herself “stop it, you did good. Even Lo said it” looking behind Lo to see who walked in but Hood fat ass blocked my view “thank you so much Chris, I appreciate you so much! Like I thought you wouldn’t have helped, it’s been so long” playing with my engagement ring smiling at Ciara “it’s fine, honestly. I don’t mind it, I know you have to go now so we can continue with this tomorrow night?” looking down at the band of Diamonds Robyn bought me, she was so quick with this. She got me a ring to wear and I can’t take it off, if I do get caught she will cry so she says.

Sitting up in the chair “you don’t mind?” she pointed at her assistant with her phone out “picture? Yeah sure” I was about to get up but Ciara sat on my knee, I mean whatever makes her happy. I laughed placing my arm around her “ok, it’s taken” her assistant said, licking my lips smiling “cool, nice seeing you though” she can move now, Ciara finally got off my knee. Getting up from the chair stretching my body out “again, Chris. Thank you” she said, she placed her arm around the back of me. Does she just want to touch me today, giving her a slight hug “ok, see you soon” moving back, turning around to walk around the middle island “what time you thinking of leaving?” Mijo said waving me over, walking over to him “huh, why?” asking him, he grabbed my arm yanking me down to him “Jessica is here” I didn’t expect anything less, she has been hanging on to my nuts but I keep her around because there have been rumours going around. Because of the album Rihanna is putting out we are together, I need to kill those rumours “what do you want me to do?” moving back from him, Mijo is like my carer but what does he want me to do.

I can feel Jessica staring at me, it’s so awkward. I breathe and she is wondering why “so you want to release these songs onto a Mixtape? I think they are worthy of more than that, release an album” my sound engineer said, shaking my head “that means I have to promote it, with the mixtape I can put it out and I don’t care. I have thousands of songs, I am making money just sitting. I just want to relax for a while, I come here because I enjoy writing” I need to leave for a party actually, looking down at my watch “put the track list together, I will get a mixtape cover for this and we will be ready to go” I need to get out of here, walking by Jessica but she grabbed onto my jacket “we not doing this today” yanking my jacket back from her “how do you find me? Someone in this room is leaking information because I swear I never tell you shit, you’re acting like a stalker. I tell you when I need you to come don’t be coming when I don’t need you around” shit it annoying me now “well you first want me to be around and then you don’t, firstly. Your friends post where you are so I know that way” shaking my head at her “that is called being a stalker, you’re very obsessed with me now” I don’t even know what to do with her anymore, I only need her to hide the fact I am with Robyn but she is really into me so I should cut all ties with her “I miss your dick” I jumped back “don’t be touching my dick, nah. You are going too far now” let me get of here, I have places to be.

T-Pain invited me to his party and I wasn’t about to let him down, it’s at his crib anyways but I didn’t think he would be having a pool full of naked girls. Pushing by my friends, I don’t want to be involved in any of that, pushing my way to the back “you are acting like you ain’t seen titties before!” Hood said “they are making my eyes bleed, I will be down there with my stalker” I didn’t think it would be like this at all, I mean he could have warned me. Niggas are recording this so I need to go, I won’t front though. Some of those girls are fine as fuck “Chris! I am so glad you came!” dapping T-Pain, smiling at him seeing the camera in my face “my brother, Chris Breezy coming out to support” nodding my head, I am trying to run “we got a whole pool full of women for us” scratching my neck “yeah, came out to support my nigga on his birthday” the crowd moved back “let’s take a picture” of course, a picture with a group of bikini clad girls will be fine, I mean yes this is perfect. Licking my lips “hey, you going to wet my clothes” I don’t want anybody near me, this is hell.

I moved inside the house to get away from the mess but it seems like the girls have followed me here “I think with your rep, they hoping to come back to your crib” Mijo said in a whisper “she’s going to kill me” I know what Robyn is like, sitting up on top of the kitchen counter. Shit like this makes me miss Robyn so much. It’s hard because I am single to the world, I have to act it too. Feeling my phone ping and buzz in my pocket, getting my phone out from my pocket. Seeing Robyn’ name on my phone, this is going to be either a very nice text or she is going to be cussing me out but I hope it’s the first option.

From: Robyn

To: Chris

Why is that manly bitch on your knee? Seriously? Why the fuck is she hugging you? I don’t like her and you know this but you in the studio with her!? I don’t like her Chris!

Blinking several times at the text from Robyn, well I know she is talking about Ciara and I don’t know why she is sat on my knee either, she is writing more but the dots soon stopped, let me reply back to Robyn.

To: Robyn

From: Chris

She needed help with her album and I don’t know why she sat on my lap. I got confused myself but it’s harmless and it was nothing, stop working your blood pressure up ….

Pressing send on the message, it already came up as read so I know she is not happy. I mean I knew she disliked her but it’s money, I can’t say no “the fuck you doing” I didn’t think and pushed Jessica away with my hand and she fell forward “don’t be trying to stand between my legs” I shouldn’t have pushed her but luckily nobody saw “look bitch, I think you need to go” Mijo said “you harmed me” now she is bring dramatic and I don’t care, looking down at my phone to read the message from Robyn.

From: Robyn

To: Chris

THE BITCH IS A FLOP! I DON’T CARE! She touched you, I am not happy. What are you doing now? Can I call you?

She can’t exactly call me, waving my bodyguard over “I am done, I don’t even want to use you as a cover up anymore. Just fucking leave me alone” I have one woman and that is enough, I can’t deal with two “escort her out, I am done” I said to my bodyguard, I rather not act like I am with someone else. Replying back to Robyn’ text.

To: Robyn

From: Chris

I heard you all the way from here but I need to finish the album for her, just stop acting crazy for nothing. Not right now, I am at a party….. with a pool full of naked girls but I am in the house…. They are nothing like you though babe :)

I don’t know if that will make her happy but I will send it, Robyn been acting crazy since she got dick. She begs every day for me to come to New York but that place is horrible, I enter New York and everybody knows my every step and I rather not.

Hope he enjoys that fucking picture, I am not happy “he is at a party? First of all, that man was on my man!” I half shouted, Mel laughed so loudly and then shushed me “the team is just next door, oh my god” she said through her laughs “god, why is he playing with the devil. I hate leaving him there in LA, the land of hoes. I want him with me” crossing my arms poking my lips out “dick got you so crazy Robz, I cannot deal with you” seeing Chris’ name across my phone, I knew I would get him like this “just like clockwork” holding my phone up to Mel “he is calling you?” Mel clapped laughing, answering the phone “is this now!?” is the first thing he said “no, of course not but it could be. Sending me smiley faces when you are there seeing naked women!” I spat, I knew he didn’t want to call just to not hear my voice “and then you got error on your lap, you are working my nerve Chris” Jen walked into the room, I can’t say much now “but rewind, Robyn. You can’t send me pussy pictures to lure me in, you have to tell me at what point that was? When was this? Why was you wet? I walked to the car for this” rolling my eyes “good, now drive home” getting up from the couch “are you playing with me?” he said, let me walk away “are you?” I retorted back, walking to the balcony. It’s a little cold but whatever.

New York looks so beautiful here “you know I am not, I couldn’t call because I was in a place full of loud music and people” men are stupid “but the picture made your blood drain down to your dick and you went to your car, so you can call me” of course he could call, he is quiet now with nothing to say “well that could be right” he mumbled, I am right “I am already bored of this ok? Trust me, it’s hard when people think I am single and want bitches to be twerking on me, I am struggling yeah? I find it hard too” I hate this “I have only been here a week” I said while holding the side, resting against the barrier “and a lot has happened, you were in the club with men. Shit happens, we just need to be strong” he has a point “well I hate any woman near you, they always want you. I just want you to want me and only me” the phone fell silent “huh!? How you going to say that, I want you Robyn, I am not fucking on you” he half shouted “I am fine nigga fuck you! I am going home!” Chris shouted at someone “well you might get bored of me” he scoffed down the phone “you know what, I am not having this. Talk to me when you actually trust me” he disconnected the call.

He disconnected the call and never called back, it’s so late here and I have yet to fall asleep. I want to call him but we are planning my album release and it’s so soon, can’t sleep while trying to make money “why are you sad?” Mel said in my ear “he put the phone down on me, I said I want him to want me and just me, and then he got angry so he put the phone down. He said he is finding it hard but so am I, I told him to come here but he won’t” Mel moved back a little “he is right, New York is too hot up and there is so many rumours already about you both so he is right” Mel is agreeing with him when I don’t care “why did you say that to him anyways? He is trying to change, he is doing well. He is a man that likes sex” I shrugged, I don’t know why I did “who likes a lot of sex?” Jen asked, shaking my head “me if I got any” I mumbled sitting back in the chair.

Pulling a face at Jay Brown “so you want me to go to London? I think the fuck not” I don’t want to see Adam “clearly, you’re still engaged” he pointed at the engagement ring “are you stupid? Nigga shut up” I spat, he chuckled “look, it’s for promo. After France, UK and then back home. Few performances, then a tour” I cringed, not a tour “so on release day you want me to go on Jimmy Kimmel show and then we are leaving for France?” Jay nodded “yes, and then we are on our way. But are we going to the UK straight after the show? Is there any space for a day break?” this is important “erm, no why?” Jay said, good point why “erm, just wanted to see some of the other fashion things?” I lied, he let out an oh “I guess we can do that” I am going Cannes, I want to see Chris. Not want, I need to see him “ok good, so one day and then I meet you all there in the UK?” I want the team to go “well we can just go to the UK together?” that doesn’t work for me “how about I just meet you all there, it will be better for the team to set up. Mel and I will stay and you just go with Jen” looking over at Jen, I feel so bad “yeah sure” she said, maybe I should tell her “ok that is sorted, we had a request. Rather odd, Chris and his manager coming to the show?” letting out an oh, acting ever so shocked “what? That is weird” pulling a face “as long as he stays away from me, he can do what he likes” Jay Brown pulled a face “uhmm yeah” I think my shocked face looked too fake “he is a pain that man, he loves getting in the way or he is up to something but if there is trouble I swear I am gunning for him. The family will be there so I am not happy” I don’t like them speaking on my fiancé like this, I will just stay quiet.

Laying in my bed, it’s like five in the morning and I am just getting into bed “hard long day huh” Mel said jumping on to my bed “yes very, trying to make time for Chris upsets me. It’s like why should I, he should be here. We should be free” we aren’t too strong for the world to know yet so we need to hide for longer “you think I am ready to be a mom?” asking Mel “why are you asking?” unlocking my phone and tapping on Instagram “I said it to Chris, I really want to come off contraception but Chris doesn’t seem very happy about it? He wants to wait” the first thing I see is Chris’ post, he posted this ten minutes ago. My handsome baby doing a selfie, I love him and miss him but I can’t say that on here “get off the thing girl! Men will think no until you are, you will be a great mom. You have always wanted to be a mom, this your time. You know when you were telling me about getting married, I think you should do it. Get married, fuck the world” smiling at Mel “anyways, call him so you can sleep” she shuffled off my bed, she knows me so well.

Sighing out pressing the phone to my ear, I should be calling Chris back to be honest because I did upset him and I know he is awake so why is he not answering me. I smell like him anyways, I am wearing his tee and I love it “hi” his husky voice, he picked up “baby I am sorry, I never meant it wrongfully. I just really miss you, you’re my fiancé now and in normal terms we should be together but we can’t and it’s getting to me. We got engaged and didn’t get to spend a whole day together, it hurts me so much. I know you’re trying so hard, I am proud of you” I said sounding like a child, I don’t want him to be mad at me “I understand, I just don’t want you to doubt me. When you said that I got angry because you are acting like I don’t want you, trust me. I want you so bad, I went home anyways. Well I am home now, just playing with the dog’s” I did really get him angry “your friends then?” I said which made Chris laugh “wow, no. My actual dog’s mean ass” least he is smiling, I bet he looks all cute “you really got me though, that pussy picture had me. I ran to my car, when did you take that? I still want to know and how” smirking at the fact he is dying to know this information “I have my ways babe but this was two days ago, I was supposed to send it you. You like the angle?” biting on my bottom lip “I came to it so yeah, it was perfect” giggling down the phone, I want him so bad.

“Why aren’t you asleep? Ain’t it mad early there? Get some sleep” hearing his dog’s barking in the background “I wanted to make it up with you, go to sleep with me. I want you to stay on the phone with me while I do? Come on, go to bed!” I want him to go to sleep same time as me, least we can be close “I ain’t even ready to sleep yet but I will make my way to my room” smiling wide “thank you baby, I love you baby” I whispered “I love you too, how was your day anyways? Busy I guess?” he asked “kind of but I am making a plan, I need to see you in France but we can’t. I am going Cannes, I have a day off before going to the UK. We can meet there, please?” Cannes should be ok for us “oh wow really? You been thinking of ways to meet? You are making time for me, thank you, erm. It should be ok, you just need to let me know and I will meet you” I wish I could hold him “why can’t you just come to New York? You are doing nothing there but hang with men and women that look like men” Chris chuckled “stop it, if I could I would but you are busy. I don’t want to be dealing with your stupid people either” frowning at the sound “are you peeing?” I think he is “yep, nice long pee before I get into bed” he said, he is not wrong about it being long but anyways “hey, you remember when you were saying I feel it in my guts please stop and you cried the next day? I am so proud of my big boy” rolling my eyes, he will never let me live that down now “ugh! Whatever Chris, I could feel you in my guts! That wasn’t a god damn lie ok” he cannot stop laughing, he is so annoying about this but I was gone because of it.

I have been quiet now, he keeps laughing though “ok I am in bed now, this place is so quiet. I hate it” it sounds quiet in the background “not used to it I guess? You could have come to New York and be putting some babies inside of me, I am just saying” I shrugged, he could have been “I am using condoms with you now, you want me for my sperm. I know your game” poking my lips out frowning “I want to marry you now Chris but I want a baby” he needs to accept that “can we wait on the baby thing? A nigga doesn’t even know what is happening right now, what is going to happen huh? You’re pregnant and I am here hiding away from your people still, shit is not logical and I don’t want it. You keep taking that pill, I don’t want it. I don’t care anyways but I don’t want it now” I didn’t think he would be like this “now you’re going to be quiet with me, ok you tell me then. Where we setting base? You live where? You live in London and go to New York sometimes, we don’t even know where we are living as a couple and you want to have baby in this. I don’t want a child in such a fucked up situation where we are hiding” he has shut down every hope I had, I want to cry “I am not saying never but I don’t want it now, it’s not healthy. We aren’t healthy, the people around us are toxic. I am trying to filter out the bad people in my life, I am still trying to get bitches off my nuts. You tell me where any of this is good for a baby, not any baby but my baby where I can’t even see you without being judged” he has really shut my ass up that I don’t know what to say, he is not wrong at all about this.

If I do what Mel told me to do he will flip a table on me, I rather not now “but I do want one, don’t you want to be a father? You always wanted me to have a baby” he used to try it with me “I don’t know, I did when we was young and innocent. Shit was innocent, everything was good. I don’t think a child would want me to be their father, I am fucked up. Shit is just not a fun thing, niggas be having five, six kids like it’s nothing but I can’t do that. I don’t know. But for you we will, but I can’t accept it now” why does he feel this way, he is not even that bad “what if I was? What if I did end up pregnant?” I questioned “after this conversation and you did then I would be disappointed in you but what can I do? It’s happened, I don’t want our child going to places where people disrespect me if you get what I mean, negative vibes and all that shit. I would be happy of course” I can’t do it to him now, I know now and he said it “I will make your dreams come true, I know what you want. I do, I promise you that I do but we need to reach it, we will reach it but the hard way. I am ready though, I don’t want you to feel so damn hearted though. We will have a baby, don’t mind me. I am doubting myself being a father” he is not wrong at all “it’s ok, I understand. I love you Chris and I don’t doubt you being a father, you’re going to be such a good father to our kids. They will be blessed to have you” Chris cooed out “thank you, same with you. Why don’t you go to sleep now, you must be tired. Stop thinking too much though, let shit just happen” he knows me well, I do be thinking too much “I will fall asleep, eventually to your voice. Sing me a song , a cute one!” moving onto my side “erm, hmmmm. It’s you and me…” I giggled aloud cutting him off “I knew it, you would have chosen that. You’re so cute and stupid” he is so goofy.

[randomlonelytorment]

The Australian Government is a disgrace 🤬🤬

NSW farmer Joanna Collett posted this poem to the Prime Minister's facebook page as a desperate call to action, it has since gone viral throughout facebook:

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G’day Mr Morrison, I trust that you are fine,

Sorry to be bothering you, but there’s something on my mind

I listened to a bloke last week; he had a bit to say

You lot may have heard of him? He delivers all that hay?

He spoke of countless hours and the distances they drive

Feeding starving stock, to keep bush hopes alive

They do not get assistance from your tax funded hat

They do it on their own, all off their own bat

I’m not politically minded and I don’t have any clout

And I know you’ve done a tour, to learn about the drought

But there’s just some burning questions, that have left us feeling beat

Why did we fund a foreign land, to learn to cut up meat?

And what about those soccer boys, who went and got all lost

You pulled out all the bloody stops, plain just showing off

You’ve bigger problems here at home, there’s drought up to our necks

So what does your mob go and do ? Give them big fat cheques!

Don’t they have a government to deal with all this stuff?

Why should it be up to us, what’s with all your fuss?

Should we not be reigning in and look after our own

Have you never heard the phrase “charity starts at home”?

I realise there’s many things, that need an allocation

And I also can appreciate, complex trade relations

I’m not sure if you realise, but if our stock all die,

There won’t be any trade you see, your deals will all run dry

As a rule we’re not a whinging lot, our requests are but a few

Most of us who work the land, are tested, tried and true

We respect that we are guardians, and sustain it for the kids

But I often have to wonder, what future will it bring?

I guess all that I’m wondering, is “where’s the Aussie aid”?

Wrapped up in a swag of tape, only then to be repaid !

There’s Aussie blokes and chicks out there, putting you to shame

Helping fellow Australians, in their time of pain

I’m just a simple farmer, grazier, wife and mum

And even though we’re feeding stock, we’re better off than some

I’ve never had to shoot a cow, who could no longer stand

But many have before me, and I pray, I’m not dealt that hand

So will you take another look; admit that we’re in strife ?

And do more than bloody empathise, before another farmer takes their life ?

I’d like to think you’ll do what’s right and put Australia first

And help your own damn country, before this drought gets any worse.

Joanna Collett

Wee Waa NSW

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#scottmorrisonwhereareyou

#disgraceful

#drought

#aussiefarmers

This is the harsh reality for the state of our country right now. Our government is too tied up in media appearance in other countries to act on the current crisis QLD and NSW are experiencing, and have been experiencing for over 2 years now. The only aid being offered to desperate farmers around the region is from volunteers and donations. From public charity events trying to bring some form of relief to these families. But even then the government is exploiting these charities, stealing those funds and using that money in different unnecessary projects. Australia needs help. But once again our government couldn't give two fucks.