#i will personally pay for their tickets to the sweat tour

[dollblitz]

rip ollie you would love rush by troye sivan

rip toby you would ALSO love rush by troye sivan

[semisgroupie]

these kisses ain’t free (you gotta pay with your body)

guitarist!sukuna x groupie!fem. reader

wc: 2.9k

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, slight dubcon, light choking, biting, fingering (f!receiving), light praise, risky sex, almost caught, sukuna keeps your panties, sukuna calls reader “pretty”

synopsis: meeting your favorite guitarist backstage comes at a cost

a/n: if you recognize the title then I’m smooching you so hard. the banner is from Pink Heart Jam and the colors are from sukuna’s manga cover from vol. 14!!

This was never originally part of the plan. You came to the concert solely focused on seeing and enjoying your favorite band perform in person. Then, your plans shifted and here you were plotting a way to sneak backstage.

When the announcement first came out about The Cursed going on tour in your city, you jumped at the opportunity to get the best seats possible. You also wanted to get the VIP tickets as well but they were just too expensive.

The day of the concert finally came and you were beyond excited. You couldn’t wait to see them in action, especially Sukuna, the band’s lead guitarist. The moment you laid your eyes on him, you fell for him. Then watching his interviews, live performances, and seeing parts of his personality just made you fall for him more. What wasn’t there to love about him? And to finally see him in person? You couldn’t wait.

While you were waiting on line to enter the venue, you heard a group of people ahead of you talking about what the VIP experience was like. Hearing about how you could take photos with the members, get whatever you wanted signed by them, talk to them for a little bit and what really got your attention was when they started talking about Sukuna. Talking about the cologne he had on, how messy his hair looked, how his muscles looked with the sleeveless shirt he had on, you just wanted to see it all for yourself. That’s when the gears really started turning in your head.

You had been to the venue plenty of times for other concerts and you used to date a guy who used to be a security guard for the venue so he showed you some little secret routes and passageways. You had forgotten most of the specific routes but you were sure you could figure them out.

You were finally inside and made your way to your section and row, it gave you a perfect view of the stage and you felt the adrenaline rush through your body. You could finally see Sukuna. After 20 minutes the lights finally shut off and you heard a very familiar voice booming through the speakers, “who’s ready for a hell of a show tonight? The moment you’ve all been waiting for is finally here and I want to hear you all scream!” Cheers, cries and screams erupted as the lights came back on and all the members of the band were on stage. You looked at each of the members, Suguru at the drums, Mahito on bass, Satoru at the head of the stage with the microphone in his hand and finally, Sukuna.

He had a black sleeveless shirt that outlined his abs and jeans that hugged his legs in all the right places. Your eyes traveled along the tattoos on his arms, they were perfect just like him. You screamed his name loudly and for a moment it seemed like he acknowledged you, throwing a wink your way before he started playing.

You don’t think you had ever screamed that much in your life. You sang along with every song and your eyes never left Sukuna. You watched as his skin got damp with sweat and pink strands of his hair stuck to his forehead. As they finished their last song, you felt a wave of sadness. You enjoyed yourself so much and the concert was better than you imagined it would be. “Alright! You guys were fucking amazing! I think you guys have been the best crowd we’ve had so far! Thank you!” Satoru set the mic back on the stand and stepped back while Sukuna stepped closer to his mic.

“Thank you for an amazing show, now you all know what time it is.” He reached into his pocket and held up a couple guitar picks. At the end of every show he always threw some guitar picks at the audience for some lucky fans to keep. Your heart started beating as he walked along the stage and started tossing them. You watched each one go in different directions and none of them made their way towards you. You lost all hope of receiving one as he tossed the last one and sighed as he made his way back to his mic. “Now, I’m doing something a little different tonight,” he reached into his pocket again and pulled out another pick, holding it up, “this is the pick I normally use for practice and it is signed. Don’t kill each other for it.” He started walking along the stage and stood close to where your section was before tossing it. Your eyes widened as you lifted your arms up to catch it and felt it hit your hand. You closed your fist and brought it close to your chest and screamed loudly as you looked at it.

“Goodnight! Stay safe. We love you!” Suguru’s voice echoed throughout the venue and everyone started moving out. You heard mumbles and complaints about the pick and about you getting it but you were just on cloud nine. You started walking out with everyone and you looked around. There had to be a door somewhere where there wasn’t security and somewhere no one was really paying attention to. You continued walking and then you found it, there was a black door that was just a crack open. If you weren’t looking for it then you definitely wouldn’t have found it. You looked around before slowly drifting away from the crowd of fans to the door. You grabbed the knob and opened it a little more to slip through before closing it behind you.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you started walking. It was dimly lit and you were completely disoriented but you continued to walk. After a few minutes of walking you saw a curtain and you moved closer and pushed it aside to look around. There you saw some stage hands moving a lot of the equipment. Your eyes widened as you continued to look around and saw the back of Satoru’s head as he walked into a room. “Holy shit” you muttered to yourself as you continued to watch everyone.

You should have been more aware, especially since you weren’t allowed there but you were just so caught up in the moment. “I didn’t think anyone knew about this entrance.” The voice was low and then you felt a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you turned to look around and see who the voice belonged to. When you finally saw him, another gasp left you.

“Got lost?” A smirk was on his face as he looked at your shocked expression. You couldn’t believe that you were standing in front of Sukuna. You were completely starstruck as you looked at him while he stepped from behind you to the backstage area, in better lighting. At this distance you could see the smudged eyeliner at his eyes and his skin was still a little damp. “Hey, I asked you something so I would like an answer, or are you mute?”

You stumbled over your words for a moment before you regained your composure and stepped away from the curtain, closer to him. “I was just trying to find my way to the VIP event. I must have gone through the wrong door.” It was a poorly thought out lie and you knew that he saw right through it. “Really? Last time I checked, the VIP event was right before the concert and I definitely would’ve remembered someone like you.” His eyes scanned your body, focusing on how your skirt hugged your hips and thighs and how your shirt accentuated your chest. “Wanna try to answer my question again?”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as he shamelessly checked you out. You swallowed thickly and looked up at him, “I couldn’t afford the VIP tickets and I thought I could sneak in backstage and meet you guys. Well, mainly meet you, you’ve been my favorite member since you released your first single.” The smug smile on his face grew as he stepped closer to you and took your hand in his. “Well, come into my dressing room with me. You want the VIP experience so I’ll give it to you.” You held onto his hand tighter as he led you to the room with the door that had his name labeled on it. He opened the door and let you walk inside then followed behind you, locking it for extra measure.

He nodded his head at the small sofa that was there and then sat down once you were seated. You didn’t know how to react, one second you thought that you were going to get dragged out by security and the next second you’re with the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. “So, tell me a little about yourself. Well besides the fact that you’re a horrible liar and you like to sneak backstage after concerts.” You felt the heat rise to your cheeks again and started telling him about yourself. As you spoke, he continued to check you out and you watched as he tapped his freshly manicured fingers against the back of the sofa. You explained how you just graduated college and how you were working at a local office to just make some money until you could find something better and he nodded along but you could tell his mind was elsewhere.

“Interesting. Smart and beautiful, good thing I was the one that found you and not security. But what was the real reason you wanted to sneak back here? Not just for a little chat and some pictures right? I mean, look at that outfit, you got all dolled up and we can’t let that go to waste.” He moved closer to you and placed a hand on your thigh, you watched his tattooed hand move up and under your skirt, close enough to your pussy. He leaned in close and looked into your eyes as he finally pressed his fingers against your covered slit. You sucked in a breath and he leaned in to kiss you as he pulled your panties to the side and moved his fingers up and down your folds to collect your wetness on them before he pushed two fingers inside you. You moaned against his lips and lifted your hands up to hold onto his shoulders.

You dug your nails into his skin making him groan and he broke the kiss to start trailing open mouthed kisses along your neck. Moans and whimpers of his name left your lips as he pumped his fingers. He heard his name being yelled every night he was on tour but hearing it fall from your lips sounded so much sweeter. He bit down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder and licked over the spot before pulling his fingers out of you. He looked at his fingers before bringing them to his mouth, sucking on them with a groan. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth and then brought them to yours, pushing them inside and thrusted them for a moment before pulling them out.

“You taste so sweet f’me.” He leaned in to peck your lips and gently pushed you back so you could lay against the sofa. He flipped up your skirt and pulled your panties down then kneeled between your legs and pulled his cock out. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, it was huge, a lot bigger than your little dildo hidden away in your nightstand drawer. He spit on his hand and stroked it, chuckling at your reaction. “Don’t look so surprised, pretty. I’ll make sure it fits just right.” He leaned in and pressed his cock against your lips and started thrusting, giving himself a pussyjob.

He groaned and threw his head back at the feeling and you started to move your hips to grind against him. Little mewls and whines left your lips. You had to try to restrain yourself because you were sure that the walls weren’t soundproof and you were sure that some of the other band members were still in their rooms. You didn’t want to risk getting caught. He continued to thrust against your folds then he gripped the base of his cock and aimed it at your dripping entrance. He bit his bottom lip as he started pushing the tip in and you arched your back. He moved his hands down to your thighs and kept them spread as he continued to push his cock into you. “Keep your legs open f’me pretty, I’m gonna make you feel real good and I wanna see how this pretty pussy stretches around my cock.”

He continued to push into you, stretching you more and more as he filled you. It hurt so good and the moans didn’t stop leaving you. He kept going slow until he was about halfway inside you, that was when he slammed the rest of his length inside you. A loud cry left you and he quickly moved his hands, moving one hand around your throat and moved the other to rub your clit while he leaned in to press his lips against yours. He stilled his hips as you began to relax around him. He pulled away and squeezed the sides of your throat. “You can’t be so loud, if the rest of the guys found out that I snuck you in here, I’m sure they’ll want a piece of you too. I’m not the sharing type, especially with a pretty piece of ass like you. So be quiet f’me and enjoy the feeling of this fat cock in your tight pussy.”

He groaned as he started thrusting and he kept his hand at your throat. The feeling was overwhelming, you couldn’t believe it. You were getting fucked by your favorite guitarist. Choked out moans left you each time he bottomed out and he hit your sweet spot expertly. His muscles tensed and his hair started sticking to his forehead as he picked up the pace of his thrust. You were in the throes of pleasure when there was a sudden knock at the door.

Your eyes widened and your heart started racing. “Hey, we’re gonna grab something to eat and head to the hotel, gonna join us?” It was Mahito at the door, you could recognize his voice from anywhere. “Nah, I have some things to wrap up here but just pick something up for me. Get me a burger and fries and I’ll pick it up from you later.” He replied effortlessly as if he wasn’t fucking you, as if his cock wasn’t bullying its way into your cock with each thrust. “Got it, see ya!” You faintly heard the footsteps go away and Sukuna leaned down, squeezing your throat again.

“What a sweet little slut you are, clenching around me even tighter at the risk of being caught. Maybe I should share you with the rest of the guys.” He groaned by your ear as his cock hit your g spot repeatedly. You brought one hand up and held onto his arm while your legs started to tremble. Your impending orgasm kept building each second, “Sukuna, I’m so close.” He continued to thrust into you and rubbed your clit as he continued to pound into you. The sounds of your skin slapping and the slick sounds of your pussy filled the dressing room, “I know you’re close, pretty. Your pussy is just telling me how good she feels, I can hear it.”

You clenched around him tighter at his words and he started thrusting faster and harder. It wasn’t long before you came undone underneath him, you let out a strangled cry of his name and he thrusted a few more times before filling you with cum. He removed his hand from your throat and panted as he held onto the cushions of the sofa by your head. His eyes scanned your face and he leaned down to peck your lips before slowly pulling out of you. He walked over to grab some tissues and helped clean you off then helped you to your feet. He tucked himself back into his pants and you looked around for your panties. You finally grabbed them and you were about to put them on until they were snatched from your hands, “I’ll be keeping this. You got my practice pick as a souvenir, so I’ll be keeping this.” He shoved them into his pocket and winked at you.

“This is one of my favorite cities so the band and I will be staying here for a few more days before hitting the road for our next show” he trailed off as he went to rummage through some papers and started writing something down on one of them. He looked over the paper then handed it over to you, “here’s where we’re staying and there’s my phone number. Ring me if you want another round with your favorite rockstar. Maybe I’ll feel generous next time to let the rest of the guys watch but I’ll need a better taste of you.” He pulled you close and kissed you, letting one of his hands roam to your ass to get a firm squeeze of it before pulling away.

“I’ll be expecting you soon, pretty.”

taglist: @suyacho @watyousayin @benkeibear @milfguel

[yerimbrit]

[flufftober day 12, wc: 1k] - shady cemetery cleaning gig : y. jiyoon

AS A HIGHSCHOOLER IN NEED OF CASH, and quick, for whatever reason, you’ve taken to accepting any gigs you can find, and well… let’s just say some of them might be pretty shady as you’d expect. 

that’s how you find yourself at a cemetery, cleaning tombstones and maybe patrolling the area while you’re at it. the job isn’t really the problem, per se, but the shift time is from midnight to five in the morning, and the person who was offering the job just gave you the money (which made your wallet quite a bit heavier) and gave you an address. 

(upon hearing this, jiyoon, your best friend, was extremely concerned and rightfully so. she pauses mid-bite to give you the most confused face you’ve ever seen her make, and lowers her spoon. you stay staring at each other for a moment, and then she sighs and turns in her seat to face you, deadpanning, “you’ve gone mad, haven’t you?”

“what? no,” you drag out the ‘o’, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

jiyoon narrows her eyes at you. a bead of sweat drips down your temple; her death stare never fails to intimidate you. and so, you concede. somewhat. “okay, well, maybe a bit—but blackpink is touring soon! and i wanna get tickets for both of us…”

because of your reasoning, her gaze softens and your shoulders can finally untense. she takes the bite she didn’t get to eat earlier, and neatly arranges her silverware on the plate it came with from the café. “you’re not gonna make me go like always, are you..?”

“um…”

she politely smiles at you, leaving her share of the bill on the table and standing up. “kim y/n. i am not showing up to a shady cemetery gig you picked up.”)

true to her word, jiyoon unfortunately does not show up at the appointed time, and so you have to do this alone. at midnight. till five am. what a great life you’re living, right? walking around, alone, there’s something strange—all the tombstones are freshly cleaned. like, spotless; you see your own reflection in them when you point your 500 watt flashlight at them.

which is weird, because weren’t you hired to do just that? you even brought a bucket of water and cloths and new sponges, and cleaner fluid you bought specifically for this job. did your employer just randomly want to pay a burgeoning adult almost five hundred bucks for no reason? 

suddenly you’re aware of all of your surroundings. crickets chirp, and your only source of light is your flashlight and a single lamp post some feet away. you sense a presence lurking behind you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. ‘there shouldn’t be anyone here besides me, there shouldn’t be, oh shit. oh fuck, y/n, on a count of three you run back home as fast as you can. one…’

you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, and you don’t even turn around to see who or what it is because what the actual fuck, before you scream as loud as you can and alarm the figure who covers your mouth with their hand. you’re forcefully turned around, and—

“ji’hyoon!?” you attempt to exclaim, though your voice is muffled by her hand. she glares and shushes you, taking the hood off of her head.

“shut up, idiot, you’re disturbing the peace!” jiyoon scolds, furrowing her eyebrows at you. “and before you ask, yes i came to check up on you. no, it’s not because i missed you.”

aw, that’s sweet of her. but how did she- “i found this place because you literally texted me the details asking me to come,” she sighs, “it’s way too sketchy; i couldn’t let you go alone.”

you grin lopsidedly, “you’re a softie deep down, aren’t you, yoon jiyoon?”

she doesn’t answer and instead looks around, spotting the bucket of water and unused sponges by your feet. “aren’t you supposed to be working?”

oh, right. there isn’t really much to work on, though. you tell your best friend that, and she frowns in confusion, “wasn’t that your job, though?”

“what i’m saying, girl, why did that rich guy pay me so much if the job was already done?” you place your hands on your hips.

a rustling sound resounds through the air, making the both of you flinch aggressively. your eyes blink rapidly, countless thoughts of panic flooding your mind, “did you hear that?”

jiyoon is just as scared shitless as you, her hand shaking as she grabs yours and clenches the hold as hard as she can. 

a weak voice calls out from the direction of the graves, “help… help me…” 

without thinking, you make a run for it and drag your best friend with you, with only the intent to get as far away as you can. ‘screw the job, i want to live!’

“y/n!” jiyoon yelps in the midst of running, “if we die just know that i’ve loved you since middle school!”

the wild dash comes to a stop, and you have to keel over so you can heave your saving breaths. when you come to, you turn to jiyoon who’s in the same state, “you what!? you love me?” 

the girl’s mouth is agape, processing the words she rashly spat out in fear for her life. she shyly directs her gaze the other way, and mumbles something incoherent that you can’t catch. 

you manage to form a smile on your lips, trying to get her attention by snapping your fingers. except you can’t snap… so you have to clear your throat. “sorry, jiyoon. couldn’t quite hear you there.”

“i said yes! ugh…” she snaps, voice slightly raised a few octaves higher because of her bashfulness. the light of a lamp posts allows you to clearly see the red hot blush that has engulfed her cheeks.

“i’m glad that our life-or-death situation got you to finally confess, idiot,” you reach over to pull her into a playful, crushing hug. “i love you too.”

jiyoon melts into the embrace, sighing in relief from both the news of your reciprocation and the escape from the creepy cemetery. “those blackpink tickets better be worth it.”

“of course they will, i’m gonna get us front-row tickets—you know how good my reflexes are,” you quip, ruffling her hair.

the girl in your arms smiles, “then i trust you, kim y/n.”

“aww, so you are a softie deep down- ah, ahahaha! wait, wait, stop! i surrender, stop tickling me!”

flufftober masterlist!

a/n : this was the most fun to write ilysm yoon jiyoonjiyoonjiyoonjiyoon

[starlightsuffered]

That Damn Bassist (p1)

Warnings - asking for sex, thirsting, refusal for sex

I could not wait to see Cyanide Cylinders. It was my favorite band. Every record was a hit. I'd been to a concert on every tour they'd ever done. This was the Death Blood tour. I couldn't wait to hear their song "Lightening Eyes" in person!

I parked in the absolutely packed parking lot. I was headed towards the stadium when I heard my car alarm. I cursed life as I ran back. No note, a large dent, and a car speeding away. All I could glimpse of the driver was a hand tattoo of a dragon. I lifted my middle finger and decided to worry about it later.

Right now, all I wanted to focus on was the fact that I had V.I.P. Tickets to my favorite band. Calling that radio station was the best thing I'd ever done.

I finally got to my seats and waited patiently. When it started I was up and screaming. I was so close I could see the sweat on their foreheads.

There he was, Timothée, my favorite member, the bassist. His eyes were surrounded with thick eyeliner, his thin frame wore all black, and his dark hair had streaks of red in it. He was walking sex, the most attractive man I'd ever seen. Just watching his fingers move on the strings made me wet. Wait, what was that on his hand. He must've gotten a new tattoo because I knew all of his by heart.

When the concert was over, I was incredibly excited to go backstage. I was shaking with anticipation. As I was walking, I was yanked into a closet. I was face to face with Timothée. Up close his face was even more angelic. He was knee-weakening.

"Hey, so I think I hit your car in the lot," he said sheepishly. I grabbed his hand and observed the dragon tattoo.

"It was you! Do you know how much that's going to cost me?" I demanded.

"Well, I have a way to pay you back," he smirked. He was so hot it nearly hurt, too bad he was being an asshole. "I'll fuck you."

"What!?" I said in disbelief.

"Come on, don't you want it?" He asked, and began to kiss my neck.

"I, uh," I moaned.

"Good girl, no one has ever said no to me," he smirked into my neck. That flipped the switch for me.

"I'm good," I said pulling back. He looked like I'd slapped him. This was better in a way, this was a way to ensure he would never forget me. I was enthralled by the idea of him tossing and turning, laboring over the idea of me.

"I'll take the money," I held my hand out. He was glaring.

"Are you serious?" He snapped.

"Yep," I popped the P. He growled and stuffed some bills in my hand.

"This isn't over," he snarled before leaving.

[yourlocalbassistgroupie]

Get The Fuck Out // Sebastian Bach

AN: This post does not contain smut and is more fluff. This post was actually a request from a friend of mine who love Sebastian 😊(personally, I’m more of a Rachel and Scotti gal)

Warning: cursing, injury; read with caution

Enjoy 😁

••••••••••

According to my friend who was here with me, I was going to have so much fun.

It was the Slave to The Grind tour, and my friend Brenna and I had been rocking out to the whole album in her shitty volvo.

Before I knew it, we were at the venue. There were so many people, it was quite overwhelming, but I washed down the anxiety with excitement. I'm gonna see Scotti! I'm gonna see Rachel! I'm gonna see- Sebastian. I stop in my tracks. Brenna, not paying attention, walks right into me.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"I've never been face to face to someone like them before," I say. "What if I pass out?"

"Y/n! That's not gonna happen," Brenna says, laughing.

We make our way to our spots. We had general admission tickets so were kind of close, but a few yards away from the barricade.

As the lights dimmed, I could feel my stomach churn.

The stage is black.

We hear drums start up, followed by a bassline and guitar. Suddenly, the lights turned on and we could see all the band members- all except one.

"Oh my god it's Rachel!" Brenna screams. She was a bigger fan of him than anyone else I'd ever seen.

Out of nowhere, we see Baz run out onto stage. Dressed in black leather pants and dark and a sheer, loose, tank top that wasn't doing a great job of covering him up- not that I minded that, though.

Brenna and I were screaming like a bunch of insane little girls, dancing around.

They sing their songs from the new album, as well as their hits, and I sang along to each one.

My god, was Baz gorgeous, even when his hair was tangled from whipping it in every direction, or when he was dripping with sweat. Brenna seemed too focused on Rachel, making eyes at him, and him smiling back. After playing "The Threat", Baz walks around the stage, going on about how their drive here, and how they were so pumped to be here. I feel someone trying to push past me.

"Hey can you move? I can't fuckin see!" says some middle-aged man from behind me. He reeked of alcohol and could barely stand.

"Dude, it's a concert- and her first one. Can you cut her some slack?" Brenna says to the guy.

"You don't have to be a fucking bitch!" he yells. This gets the attention of Scotti. He looks over to us- Baz, on the other stage is still talking. I hold Brenna's arm, nervously.

"Sir, I-" I begin.

The guy starts cursing and yelling causing a scene.

Rachel noticed too, and signal Baz over.

"Sir, please calm down," Brenna says.

"Shut the fuck up!" he yells. He takes his cup of beer and splashes it all over Brenna.

"Hey! Not cool!" I shout.

"You want some too, bitch?" he shuffle over to me, pushing me, knocking me to the ground.

"Hey!" I hear Baz yell.

I look up and see Baz and Scotti jump off the stage and push the push away the guy.

"Get the fuck outta here!" Sebastian shouts at the guy. Scotti and him hold the guy off until a security guard takes him away.

I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder.

"You okay?" I look up to see Sebastian. WHAT THE FUCK???

I stand up confidently as if nothing happened.

"I'm fine," I say.

"You sure? You're bleeding," he says. I look down at my arm and see a long scrape, with blood slowly seeping from it. Sebastian takes a bandanna that was tied onto his belt and presses it carefully on my arm, setting my hand on it. I wince, but look into his eyes.

"Hold your hand like that, alright? My buddy's gonna take you and your friend backstage, okay?" he says.

WHAT? BACKSTAGE?

Brenna grabs my hand and we follow the usher. Someone from the first aid tent sits me down in a chair and helps me clean my arm.

Brenna and I watch the rest of the show from backstage and she can't help herself- she's dancing and jumping around while I'm getting a bandage wrapped around my arm.

Baz thanks the crowd for coming and the stage goes dark again.

A stagehand gives the band members waters as the come backstage.

Baz almost walks past us until he sees me in the chair.

"Hey, how's your arm?" he asks.

"Better. I appreciate it," I say.

"That guy was an asshole. Don't mention it," he says, smiles.

"What's your name?" He asks.

"Y/n," I reply.

"Well, y/n, our band and I was just gonna get to our hotel. Did you guys wanna come with?"  he asks us.

Brenna looks at me with a wild look in her eyes.

"We'd love to!" she blurts out. We make our way to the tour bus and I sit next to Baz and Brenna somehow gets next to Rachel.

"I'm a huge fan. Bass players deserve so much more credit," Brenna says to him.

"Awe thank you," he replies. "What are you doing later?" he asks her.

"You," she says, then gasps. "I mean hanging out with you guys," she says, correcting herself.

Rachel's face turns red and he scratches his head nervously.

I sit next to Baz and he holds my arm, making sure the bandages are secure.

"It's fine, really," I say to him.

He carefully sets my hand back down in my lap.

It's so hard not to check him out. Christ, he's a pretty blond with long, flowing hair, and had an insane voice and oh my god his tattoos-

"This one hurt getting done," he said, noticing me staring at his Youth Gone Wild tattoo.

He stretches his arm out for me to see it. I trace the letter with my finger and look up at him.

"I'd be so nervous to get a tattoo," I say. He smiles.

As the bus ride drags on, we sit quietly, exchanging small talk every now and then. I notice myself becoming tired and dozing off when I get a poke of the shoulder.

"We're at the hotel," Baz whispers.

Scotti and Snake are making fun of Rachel and Brenna who were out cold, her head resting on his shoulder.

The lights in the bus turn on and they wake up, and look at each other awkwardly as if nothing happened.

The band, Brenna and I get into the hotel and check in. Brenna pulls me aside.

"Rach wants to get a separate room with me!" She whispers excitedly.

"Dude! Yesss get it!" I say.

The band members and Brenna get into their rooms and I find mine. I change out of my clothes and decide to shower and change into sweats and a t shirt.

I get a knock on my door.

I open it, and it's Baz, also with damp hair and comfy clothes on.

"Hey, y/n, headbanger's ball is on... I was wondering if you'd wanna watch with me?" He asks, awkwardly.

Wow, for someone with so much stage confidence, he was a little dorky.

"Sure!" I say, letting him in.

We sit down on the bed and he turns on the tv.

He grabs a blanket from the hotel room closet and wraps it around me sweetly.

The room was still pretty cold from the ac, and I was shivering a bit.

"You cold?" He asks.

"Just a little," I say.

He takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around me, and I rest my head on his chest, hearing the soft beat of his heart.

Was this really happening right now?

An interview with Mötley Crüe comes on and Vince and Nikki are on the tv.

"Do you know them?" I ask. He nods.

"Vince is a cool dude, we've hung out a couple times. Nikki and Tommy are pretty crazy, and Mick's like a bit of a dad," he says, slightly laughing.

"That band gets around I bet," I say, eyes wide, awkwardly. Sebastian laughs.

"You have no idea. Their groupies are insane," he says.

"I'll be your crazy groupie," I tell him, laughing. He lets out a chuckle.

"I'd be okay with that," he says. I look up at him, into his eyes. God, was he beautiful.

He carefully tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, look back into my eyes.

He leans in, as do I, kissing his soft lips.

I couldn't believe this was happening. Was this even real?

He kisses back and eventually pulls away.

"You're so beautiful, y/n," he says, looking at me, intently.

After watching the rest of the show, we decide we should probably get some sleep. I fall asleep in Baz's arms, listening to his heartbeat yet again.

[hongcherry]

With You || jhs

“What’s a better way to surprise your boyfriend—who’s been gone on tour for five months—than to hide in his hotel room after one of his concerts on his birthday?”

🎂 Pairing: idol!Hoseok x Reader(f)

🎂 Rating/Genre: R(18+); smut, fluff, established relationship, idol au

🎂 Warnings: protected sex, cum swallowing, slight dirty talk, choking with a belt, switch!Hobi(?), slight praise kink, fingering... I’m pretty sure that’s it

🎂 Word Count: 5.0k

🎂 Beta: Tailia (Thank you sooooo much for assisting me in this! I really needed your guidance for this one hehe)

🎂 Author’s Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNG HOSEOK!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hope your day is fabulous just like you. // I don’t normally write in the present tense, but I decided to switch it up. This was a little rushed (because I don’t know the concept of stop writing) but I hope you all still enjoy it. I tried to keep it under 5k...

masterlist

It’s been nearly five months since you saw Hoseok in person. 

As you wait for him in his hotel room’s chair, you picture his joyous expression on stage tonight. He was glowing in his element and it made the pang in your chest ease. While you selfishly want to lock him in your apartment and chuck the key into the abyss, you know that isn’t an option. He radiates ecstasy when he performs and you would be the spawn of Satan to steal that from him. He lives up to his sunshine nickname and you can’t stop your heart from falling for him all over again.

Earlier this week you had arranged with the staff to fly you out for Hoseok’s birthday. Although you had access to getting a front-row seat or a backstage pass, you were worried Hoseok might spot you so you watched from the stadium's skybox. You left as soon as the concert ended so you could surprise him in his room. You’ve never done this before or discussed this with Hoseok. Your financial status wasn’t the best and you wanted to surprise him, however, you were finally able to accumulate enough funds to pay for a plane ticket. You insisted on paying for part of the hotel fee too, but the staff declined the offer. After arguing about it for a few minutes, you ended up succumbing. They seemed adamant about their decision, so you let it be and spent the spare money on Hoseok’s birthday gifts instead.

You can’t stop the slight shaking in your hands as you mess with the gift bag in your lap. It is a small bag that contains a beaded and threaded bracelet you made, a can of Sprite (just for the giggles), and a custom chain necklace. The necklace is minimalistic but you had used all your extra funds to get the best quality you could afford. It’s a sterling silver bar pendant hanging vertically from a thin chain with two small charms on either side consisting of your birthstones. Engraved on the bar pendant is yours and Hoseok’s anniversary in Roman numerals.

Your anxiousness grows as the sound of Hoseok’s laugh echoes in the hallway. Despite being eager to see your boyfriend, you are also nervous about his reaction. You are almost positive he will be thrilled to see you, but you begin second-guessing yourself. Your slouched body straightens and your eyes are glued in the direction of the entryway of the room. You aren’t able to get a direct view of the door because of the room’s layout, unfortunately. 

A minute later the door beeps, granting access to the newcomer. Your heart races as you hold your breath.

“Goodnight! Tonight was special. Thank you for the birthday wishes,” Hoseok calls out. There is a chorus of replies before the door clicks closed. Your ears feel sensitive to sounds as you hone in on his movements. There’s a sigh followed by a deep inhale before you hear feet shuffling. The breath you are holding escapes when you see him. His hair is damp from sweat, loose shirt french-tucked in his pants. The glow you saw on stage is still emitting from his body, and you figure he’s coming down from the thrill of being in front of thousands of people. 

His eyes are cast down as he tosses his bag to the floor and fishes out his phone. You want to make your presence known, but your throat has closed up. You aren’t sure if it’s from nervousness or if his presence simply makes you speechless. He’s handsome in every way and you haven’t been this close in proximity in months. Your phone’s quality does nothing to showcase just how breathtaking he truly is.

A loud ringing suddenly breaks the room’s silence, which has you and Hoseok jolting. His head snaps to where the sound is coming from. You realize you have accidentally left your phone on the room’s table. Your heart swells knowing that his first action after returning from his concert is to call you.

Hoseok’s eyes narrow silently at the unknown phone. When he recognizes the phone case, his eyes widen and his gaze frantically roams the room. A loud gasp leaves his lips when he finally spots you and he haphazardly ends the phone call. You stand up when he notices you, unable to contain the giggles that escape your lips at his dancing feet. He can’t stop the happiness that erupts in his chest or the millions of small sounds tumbling from his mouth. Once he successfully hangs up, he throws his phone on the bed and rushes toward you.

“This isn’t real,” he murmurs in disbelief as he scoops your frame into his strong arms. You place the gift bag down quickly before your arms secure themselves around his neck. He buries his face in your neck, giving you a tight squeeze. You can feel his thudding heart against your chest and it makes you tighten your hold on him. 

“Hi, Hobi,” you giggle and pull away to see his face. He is beaming, heart-shaped lips stretching from ear to ear. His wide smile has yours growing bigger. It’s such a contagious smile. His eyes dance across your face as he tries to process what is happening. 

“Happy birthday,” you continue and peck your lips against the mole on his upper lip. You realize he’s still stunned by your unforeseen appearance to form coherent sentences. Though at the quick kiss, he comes out of his daze and presses his lips against yours for a proper kiss. The simple action has your body relaxing into his hold. Maybe it’s because you were away for so long—yes five months is a lot to you—but the kiss feels different. It’s unexpected from what you thought it would be; it’s a mixture of lust and passion rather than desperation and eagerness. Before he can deepen the kiss, you pull away again. His lips dip in a frown before he tries again. Laughing, you press a hand flat against his chest to stop him.

“I got you gifts. I want you to open them,” you say. When he doesn’t release his hold, you take it upon yourself and tug his arms from your body.

“I don’t need them,” he mumbles and reaches out to grab you. “You’re the perfect birthday present.”

You snort at his corny comment and snatch the small bag from the chair. You motion for him to sit down where the gift once was, which he complies to wordlessly. He grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap, legs hanging over his own.

“How did this happen?” He questions, referring to your arrival. 

You hand him the small bag while you answer, “I asked the staff if I could surprise you. When they said yes, I booked the first flight. I was even able to make your concert tonight,” you pause as you remember his performances. “You looked so incredible up there, baby.”

His smile grows at your words. You are sure his cheeks are hurting from how much he is smiling.

“I’m glad you were able to come tonight. Where did you watch from? Backstage?”

“The skybox. I couldn’t risk you seeing me,” you reply with a shake of your head.

He hums in understanding, “I can pay you back for your ticket.”

“No way! I’ve told you before, I don’t want your money. This is a surprise for you. Plus,” you begin teasingly. “You’re not supposed to pay for your own birthday presents.”

“Presents?” He asks when he catches the plural noun. You sheepishly nod, not meaning to disclose you have multiple gifts for him. He hums again.

“I know people usually don’t buy their own gifts,” he says, rubbing a hand along your legging-clad thigh. “But I know you have other expenses to pay for. You shouldn’t spend your money on me.”

“I shouldn’t spend my money on those candies I’m addicted to either, but,” you trail off. When he opens his mouth to argue, you place a finger against his lips momentarily. “I want you to open your gift please.”

He frowns at being silenced and you can see the gears in his head turning. You raise an eyebrow in warning, eyes glancing down at the small bag in his hands before returning to his eyes.

“Okay, okay,” he succumbs and removes his hand from your leg. You watch anxiously as he pulls out the tissue paper you had placed inside. His hand comes in contact with the Sprite can first and he chuckles at the present.

“Of course. My true love,” he jokes and sets the can on the nightstand nearby before moving to the next item. He pulls out the two bracelets you made and instantly puts them both on.

“Did you really make these for me?” He asks, examining the colorful bracelets hanging from his lean wrists.

“Do you like them? I wasn’t sure if they were your style, but I wanted to make something for you,” you answer apprehensively. He reassures you with a press of his lips against yours.

“I’m never taking them off,” he replies before moving to the final gift. Naturally, you’re most anxious about this present. What if he thinks the pendants are too cheesy? Watching him open the tissue paper that contains the necklace feels like watching snails race. Perhaps it’s just because you are anticipating his response. When he finally raises the chain, you bite your lower lip.

He brings his other hand to cup the pendants to get a better look at them. He flips the bar pendant over, reading the Roman numerals with wide eyes. He analyzes the two birthstone charms with equal rapt attention.

“Is this what I think it is?” He questions, eyes glancing at you then back at the necklace.

“What do you think it is?” You counter. He chuckles at your answer and clasps the necklace around his neck.

“Do I even want to know how much this costs?”

“Stop thinking about money so much,” you huff with a small frown. He instantly reaches out and repositions your body so you are straddling his lap.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s just that I should be the one spoiling you. This means so much to me, Yn,” he says sincerely. He captures your lips in a soft kiss to express his admiration.

“Hm, too bad,” you reply when you pull away. “I love you too much to not spoil you.”

“I’m never taking this off, either,” he adds and glances down at the necklace hanging from his neck. “Thank you for the amazing gifts. You didn’t ha-”

“Have to,” you interrupt, finishing his sentence. “I know. You tell me this all the time,” you giggle. “Eventually you’ll realize you deserve all the gifts in the world and more. You put out so much happiness into the world; it’s only right for it to be reciprocated.”

This time, it is you who initiates the kiss. It is steady and gentle compared to the whirling emotions in your chest. Even the movements of his tongue against yours are slow, powered by the yearning of being in each other’s embrace for the first time in months. You figured your kisses would be frantic—almost animalistic—at the separation; however, it is the opposite. It is as if you both are gradually memorizing each other’s taste, dips, and curves.

Hoseok’s hands roam up and down your sides, warming your already heated body. You pull from him to travel kisses along his jawline then to his neck. 

“Is this part of my present, too?” He teases, head leaning to the side to allow you more access. His hands lower to the swell of your ass and squeeze gently. You smile against his skin, pressing another kiss against him.

“Not necessarily,” you answer honestly. Since this was an unexpected visit and he was sure to be tired from his concert, you weren’t certain about his feelings toward having sex. Which was why you didn’t plan to. You realize now that it was a ridiculous assumption. It isn’t surprising that you find yourself in this position. You haven’t felt his body against yours in months. Despite the sexting and the dirty talk over facetime and phone calls, getting yourself off isn’t anywhere near as satisfying as having his cock buried inside your walls. 

“It can be though,” you continue after pressing another kiss on his neck. You pull back slightly to eye him. “What does the birthday boy want?”

He hums as he thinks, hands rolling the flesh of your ass in his strong palms. “I want to hear you moan my name while I pound into your tight pussy.”

Your lips quirk up, a smirk finding its way onto your face. Your eyes darken as lust consumes your veins at his words.

“Wish granted,” you reply. “But I have one request.”

He watches you carefully as he waits for you to continue. His hands glide up your back and slide under your shirt, tracing small circles against your skin. 

“I want you to relax,” you continue and graze your fingertips down his taut torso. “You’ve been working so diligently. Let me take care of you.”

He smiles at your request. “I’ll try,” he says. He often was the one in control and while you didn’t mind that at all, it is his birthday and he deserves to be pampered. You return the smile, pressing your lips against his quickly before going back to his neck. 

As you’re licking and biting his tender skin, his hands make their way to cup your breasts through the sheer lace bra you’re wearing. A low moan vibrates his chest when you begin sucking the spot that has him squirming under your touch. His hands give your breasts a rough squeeze before they move to unclasp your bra. You feel him harden under you and it causes you to roll your hips against him slowly. He moans again and pulls your shirt from your body, forcing you to pull away from his neck. You discard your bra to the floor while Hoseok tugs his shirt over his head. Your eyes lower to his chest, eyes following the lines created by the dips in his torso. Your hands immediately reach out and slide down his muscular chest. He chuckles lowly at your reaction and pulls you toward him again. 

His lips meet yours with the same steady pace from earlier. Your body is jittery at the feel of his exposed skin pressing against yours. You feel eager and the slow pace is making you feel impatient; however, you force yourself to follow his pace. It’s sensual and you want to imprint this moment in your mind for when you have to leave tomorrow morning.

One of your arms hangs off the back of the chair while your other is pressing against his body, fingers tangling in his locks. You gradually begin to roll your hips against him again. The wetness between your legs is growing each time you brush against his growing cock. Hoseok’s breathing becomes ragged and he pulls away from the kiss with a deep inhale. His eyes darken with desire and he leans forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. A moan slips past your parted lips, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue swirling around your bud. He brings one of his hands to cup the breast he’s working on, moaning against your skin as you continue the rotation of your hips. His hand shifts to your other breast and repeats his assault. Your back arches into his touch and you set your hands on his strong shoulders.

Your mind clouds as you memorize each lick and bite he makes against your soft flesh. You feel like you’re being consumed by his vine-like grip, slipping into a euphoric black hole.

“I’ve missed you,” you sigh softly, glancing down when he pulls away, teeth scraping your nipple gently. He smiles at you, eyes softening at the confession and slides his hands to your ass again. “I’ve missed you too, baby.”

You’ve lost count of how many kisses you two exchanged—each one just as passionate as the previous. His lips feel heavenly against yours and it makes you wish you could indulge in your selfishness to hold him hostage. You wish you could steal him away the next morning instead of saying goodbye. Your melancholy thoughts are halted when the sound of fabric ripping echoes in the hotel room. Your mouth pulls off his with a gasp as you feel the cool air hit the exposed skin of your ass. He’s quick to move your underwear to the side.

Before you could voice your complaints, however, Hoseok slides a slender finger through your slick folds. Your body jerks when he rubs against your aching clit. Despite his devilish actions, he wears his cheery smile. There is a hint of mischief, though, and you hate the way it makes your heart tumble. It’s unfair how innocent he appears while rubbing tight circles against your clit. Hoseok gradually slides from your bud to your dripping folds. He suddenly dips his finger in your entrance, eliciting a moan from your throat. He pumps his finger a few times before swiftly inserting another one. You mewl at the pleasuring sensation.

“I-I’m the one supposed to be p-pleasuring you,” you quiver when he increases his speed; your nails digging slightly into his skin. The squelching noise that emits from his quick pace has your cheeks reddening. Hoseok smiles at your reaction, uncaring at the obscene noises. 

“You are pleasuring me though,” he replies, watching with appreciation as your face contorts in bliss at his touch. You lean forward to rest your head against Hoseok’s shoulder as you feel your cheeks darken under his stare. He places a tender kiss on your head as you stay rooted to your spot. 

You shake your head gently and start to fumble with his buckle and pant buttons. Hoseok slows his movements and begins to spread his fingers, moaning inwardly at how tight you are.

“Not what I meant,” you mumble and focus on undoing his pants while holding back a moan. He chuckles softly, lifting his hips off the chair momentarily for you to slide his pants and underwear down. As you sit up straighter, your hands greedily take his hardened cock in your hands, loving the way he squirms under your touch briefly at the new sensation. You miss the heavy feeling of his dick in your grip. Your thumb smears the leaking precum from his tip, and you smile when Hoseok shudders. He slips his glistening fingers from you and to your hips.

“I-I don’t have,” he begins suddenly, eyes widening and pink lips dipping into a frown. You understand what he is referring to and quickly climb off his lap. He watches you with admiration as you make your way to your hidden bag. You take out the small foil packet and return to your boyfriend. 

Hoseok is slouched down the chair slightly, pants discarded from his ankles, and hand stroking his large member. You slow your steps as you take in the sight. He is striking as he sits there, staring at you with a concentrated face. His once bubbly smile is replaced with a hungry expression. His intimidating stare on you is like pouring gasoline on a burning flame—igniting a fireball within the pit of your stomach. 

You tear the packet open as you make your way in front of him. He moves his hands to rest them on the chair’s armrest, leaning his head back as he watches your movements carefully. 

Once the condom is successfully on, you gently ascend his lap again. You glide your other hand between your legs slowly. His hands rest on the curve of your waist, bottom lip captured in his teeth as he watches you slide his dick between your soaking folds. Your eyes flicker to the new chain around his neck, mouth curling into a smile at the sight.

Distracted by the gift you got him, you don’t realize he has reached down and retrieved his belt. Your lips part in surprise when you feel the cool leather wrap around your neck and tighten. It’s loose enough to allow you to breathe—replicating the feeling of wearing a comfortable choker.

“That alright?” He murmurs as he leans back into the chair again. The hand holding the end of the belt rests on the chair’s arm while the other massages your waist. You nod with a confirming smile and press your lips against his while aligning his length to your entrance.

The moment his tip stretches your tight hole, a blend of moans and sighs leave both your lips. You sink yourself lower gradually, eyes never leaving his as he fills you. His momentarily intimidating gaze transitions into his cheerful stare. He pulls you down by the belt and kisses you deeply. 

“Shit, baby,” Hoseok breathes out as he pulls away from the kiss. You still your hips when he bottoms out, taking the moment to soak in the feeling of your walls hugging his cock deliciously. “You’re as perfect as I remember.”

You giggle at his comment, “You feel so much better than my fingers.”

Hoseok smiles as he recalls the numerous late-night FaceTime calls he has exchanged with you during the tour, your legs spread on the screen, two fingers buried in your pussy, with your soft mewl sounding from in his headphones. 

“I would hope so,” he teases and gives your side a squeeze. After another quick kiss, your hands flatten against his chest as you begin to lift your hips up, sliding back down and repeating the action.

A satisfied sigh leaves Hoseok’s lips as he leans his head back on the chair. Your speed is agonizingly slow initially. You savor the feeling of him buried within your warmth, rubbing against your walls in a way only he could. It makes you want to cancel your flight and follow him to the next city. 

One hand slides to the nape of Hoseok’s neck while the other rests behind you on his knee. A moan erupts in your throat as you lean back slightly, rocking your hips and feeling the soft brush from his skin against your swollen clit. Your movements become rougher at the sensation—desired to feel it again. Hoseok tugs on the belt as he watches your body move like liquid against him. While he enjoyed being the one to pound your pussy open, he did admit this was an alluring view. 

Your eyes are half-lidded, mouth parting in a small pout, and eyebrows knitting in pleasure. His thighs tense at the urge to fuck up into you. His jaw clenches at the thought and he tugs harder on the belt to restrict himself from the act, causing you to make a sound that is in the middle of a moan and a whimper as the air gets pulled from your lungs.

Your moves begin to become frantic as you feel the fire in your tummy grow brighter. You straighten your posture, hands traveling to glide up your own body. Your hands massage your breasts, twisting your nipples briefly as your hips move in a mix of rolls, swivels, and bounces. Hoseok follows your hands with his free one—loving the way your body trembles under his ghost-like touches. 

“That’s it, baby girl,” Hoseok praises softly and smacks your ass playfully. You moan at his praise and clench around his large cock. Hoseok groans at the feeling and places both hands firmly on your hips; the belt is caught between his palm and your side. Your hands trail to grip his wrists. Sensing you are nearing your orgasm, he begins to move your hips rougher. 

“You’re doing so well, jagi,” he hums. Your noises are increasing in volume, not considering you are residing in a room that probably has thin walls. “You close?” He asks gently despite his powerful actions. With his assistance, you are moving faster than before. Your hands squeeze his wrists tightly as you nod. His cock is rubbing against a spot that is driving you insane. It empties your mind and makes you dizzy for every inch of him. 

“Hobi,” you moan when you feel yourself near the edge. 

“Come on, baby. Come all over my cock,” he demands, letting out a low growl. 

Your climax comes quick—creating tiny flashes of white in your vision as you come hard for the first time in months. Your voice is hoarse as his name falls from your lips between moans. No toy or self touches left you as satisfied as you are now. They would never be enough. You realize how much you need Hoseok as he tugs you forward by the belt. His lips come crashing upon yours, selfishly drowning your cries. It pains you to have been deprived of his touches for months. 

The kiss is messy and brief. He tears himself from you, releasing the belt to let it rest between the valley of your breasts, before pulling your arms behind your back. His hips meet yours speedily. A loud whine sounds from your sore throat as he pounds into your sensitive pussy. 

“Fuck,” he moans unabashedly. “You’re taking my cock so well, baby.”

His eyes roam your sweaty form—from the way your breasts bounce with each smack of his hips to the way you suck him in your tight walls. The lewd noises from his skin slapping yours grow louder in the room. His pace is rough. 

“Hobi,” you tremble from the oversensitivity and try to tug your arms from his grasp. His thrusts become sloppier quickly. His breathing is more ragged and his hair is sticking to his face. 

Suddenly, he releases your arms and gently nudges you off him. You follow his lead and kneel on the floor, legs tucking under you as you open your mouth in anticipation. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs as he slides the condom off and places his tip against your hanging tongue. He rapidly pumps his cock, eyes flickering between the sweet look in your eyes and his throbbing dick. You sit patiently and raise your hands to his strong thighs. Usually, you would keep your hands resting on top of your thighs, but you miss the feel of his skin too much to sit idle. Your gentle strokes on his legs contrast his rapid movements. 

Hoseok lets out a guttural moan as he feels himself tumbling over his edge. The sight of his cum spilling on your tongue and part of your lips has him feeling intoxicated. Your eyes are glued to his as you swallow. You swipe your tongue along your lips to collect the remaining drops, smiling up at your boyfriend. 

A breathy chuckle leaves his lips and he leans down, placing his hands on your arms softly to help you up. He carefully removes the belt from your throat and presses soothing kisses to the tender skin. Another laugh sounds from Hoseok when your knees buckle. He shuffles you to the bed and guides you to sit on the soft mattress. 

“I love you,” he whispers as he hovers over you, hand brushing your thigh and causing goosebumps to form. A lazy smile shapes your lips and you quietly repeat the words.

When he is sure you are stable, he leaves for the bathroom. He appears a second later with a warm rag in his hand. He wipes at your mouth despite there being nothing there, but just in case he thought to himself. 

Although your body feels fatigued from your flight and recent activities with Hoseok, you force yourself to stay awake. He must feel the same because his eyes are drooping. 

“You know,” Hoseok mumbles as he follows the curves of your side lazily. His head is propped up on his hand while lays on his side to face you. “Some people celebrate their birthday for an entire week.”

Your eyebrows raise in suspension, fingers slowing their movement in his hair. “Yeah? What about it?”

“You could celebrate this week with me,” he explains then softer, “Stay with me.”

“Hobi…I-” you begin. 

“Have to work. I know,” he replies, a hint of sorrow to his voice. He appreciates that you’re not with him for his money. He’s learned over the span of your relationship you would never be the type of person to use or manipulate him. However, he wishes you allowed him to spoil you more. He wants to voluntarily give you all the jewels in the world. He doesn’t feel coerced to do so. “But just this once—just this once let me treat you. Let me be selfish and keep you next to me.”

Your eyes stare into his as you try to form a decision in your mind. Your heart tears in two at wanting to show him you love him for more than his membership in BTS and wanting to indulge in his company a little longer. Your flight is in five hours and you’re scheduled to work later that day. His eyes hold yours as he silently pleads for you to agree. 

Your mind is wandering so much that you don’t see him leaning in. His lips meet yours for the millionth time tonight—though you aren’t complaining. Even after he pulls away, you can feel his touch linger on your mouth. 

As if the kiss cast you under his spell, you whisper, “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Hoseok instantly grins at your response, lips finding yours in the low-lit room. The act has your heart racing and you recognize the all too familiar feeling of butterflies welling within your stomach.

“I’ll stay with you, birthday boy,” you add playfully.

His laugh brings a smile to your lips and you feel your chest fill with warmth. It’s a comforting sensation and you realize this is where home is—right in his arms.

HAPPY H✿BI DAY 🎉 HOBI HOBI HOBIIIIII!!! Strawberry~

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[lostcoves]

– parisian nights 

+ ft. tamaki amajiki

+ wc: 2.5k

+ format: one-shot

+ premise: tamaki amajiki, heir to amajiki enterprises, has it all. yet, all he wants is you. could a sudden trip to paris be enough to win your heart?

+ note: my piece for @bakugohoex​’s 3k collab! hope you all enjoy!

tamaki amajiki, in a literal sense, had it all and anything he wanted was at a snap of his well-manicured fingertips. every luxury sports car, every trip to the tropics, every gaming system was only one lip pout to his daddy and mommy. he was spoiled to say the least but what kind of rich kid wasn’t?

it wasn’t until tamaki stumbled upon you that he took a moment to reevaluate his life as a rich boy.

you had humble beginnings, coming from a family of average societal standing. your family didn’t have to worry about money but they were nowhere close to the standing of the amajiki family. humble and modest, tamaki thought you were the cutest thing in the whole wide world! 

and what tamaki liked, tamaki got.

he remembered flashing you a fat tip for your service at the coffee shop you worked as a barista at. tamaki struggled with social interaction at times but all of that went out the window the moment he locked eyes with you. he found that he didn’t have to work on his social skills, as long as he had the money to buy the friendships and interactions.

he thought you were the same as the others, easily swayed by money.

yet, you weren’t. 

you rejected the tip and told him to put it in the communal tip jar for all the baristas shared from. tamaki was stunned but did what you asked of him. anxiety bubbled in his stomach and his facade of suave rich guy nearly cracked.

but tamaki wouldn’t give up so easily.

─────────────────

“morning, amajiki-san,” you greeted him every morning with that same gentle smile of yours. barely any customers were in the coffee shop, which tamaki preferred. he utterly despised crowds of people.

“good morning, (l/n)-san,” he returned the greeting and the smile.

“the usual?” you already got a medium-sized cup out.

“yes please,” he hummed. tamaki actually hated coffee, it made his anxiety worse but he would risk an anxiety attack if it meant he could interact with you.

you nodded and got to work, preparing a medium iced coffee for tamaki. he watched you move around from behind the counter, his eyes fixated on your gorgeous form.

“one medium iced coffee for amajiki-san!” you handed the coffee to tamaki.

“thank you,” tamaki fished out an envelope from his pocket, “your tip.”

you furrowed your eyebrows at the envelope and took it cautiously, “what’s this, amajiki-san?”

“your tip,” tamaki repeated. 

carefully, you opened up the envelope and pulled out its contents. 

“amajiki-san..” you uttered his first name, “what the hell is this?”

“two tickets to paris,” tamaki leaned against the counter, “well, the tickets are more of a formality. we’ll be taking my private jet to the city.”

“amajiki-san..” you sighed. 

“pretty please, (l/n)-san?” tamaki flashed you his famous puppy eyes. 

“why should i go with a guy i barely know?”

ouch, that hurt. 

“well, we can use this as an opportunity to get to know one another.”

you frowned, “i’ll have to think about it.”

“come to this address in a week from now at two in the afternoon,” tamaki got out a pen from his pocket and wrote down an address on a piece of napkin, “if you’re interested in coming.”

you took the napkin and nodded, “very well then.”

tamaki could only hope that you would come.

─────────────────

tamaki paced around outside the private jet, frantically checking his watch every two minutes. it was nearly two o’clock and you still weren’t near yet. you weren’t coming, tamaki decided, much to his dismay. 

“amajiki-sama?” the pilot poked his head outside the jet, “ready to take off?”

“no, not yet!” tamaki hollered. the pilot flashed a thumbs up and returned inside the plane. tamaki let out a heavy sigh, where were you?

“am i late?”

tamaki perked up at the sound of your voice. he saw your figure approaching the jet, the wind ruffling your white sundress and sunhat. a lone suitcase rolled behind you. 

“you came,” tamaki stated in surprise.

“didn’t think i was gonna show?” you chuckled.

tamaki let out a soft laugh and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “yeah..”

“well, i’m here!” you smiled, “you’re gonna treat me to the trip of a lifetime, correct? why in the world would i miss out on that?”

tamaki’s heart fluttered at the sight of your smile, “well, what are we waiting for? let’s get this trip started.”

a flight attendant exited the jet and took your luggage. tamaki took your hand and guided you inside the jet. your lips formed a small ‘o’ in shock at the interior of the jet. it was much larger on the inside than it was on the outside with push-lined seats and entertainment systems galore. a person could live without worry in this jet.

“you own this?” you asked tamaki, as you took a seat in one of the comfortable looking seats. 

“my parents do,” he answered, “they use it for business trips.”

“i see,” you eyed at the approaching concession cart. the flight attendant before earlier was operating it and she offered you a wide selection of drinks and snacks. you ended up getting a plain green tea while tamaki got a bag of honey barbecue flavored chips. 

“so what made you decide to invite me on this trip?” you took a long drag of your green tea.

tamaki paused from munching on his chips. he cleared his throat, “i thought ‘why not?’ in all honesty,” that was a lie, tamaki wanted to impress you with a flashy trip to the city of love.

“do you take all the girls you’ve met on trips to paris?”

“only the girls i like.”

tamaki almost choked at his comment, his cheeks flushing a nice shade of pink. you raised your eyebrows at him in an act of bewilderment. tamaki attempted to change the conversation and informed you, “we should be there in thirteen hours, so it’s best to “get situated.”

you gave him a nod, “alrighty. well, i’ll be asleep so you have fun.”

tamaki opened his mouth to reply, only to given the cold shoulder as you reclined your seat and got noise canceling headphones on. he watched, as you situated yourself and promptly fell asleep. he chuckled, that was adorable.

a two day trip to paris, what could possibly go wrong?

─────────────────

“(l/n)-san.”

tamaki gently removed your noise cancelling headphones from your head.

“we’re here, in paris.”

you let out a groan, as your eyes slowly opened. how long were you out? a couple of hours?

“you slept the whole trip,” tamaki laughed quietly.

“oh.. i did? sorry,” you murmured, rubbing the guck out of your eyes.

tamaki brushed a loose hair out of your face, “it’s alright.”

you blushed slightly at his warm touch but masked with a cough, “so! uh! whatcha wanna do in paris?”

tamaki blinked, he hadn’t planned that far ahead.

“would you like to see the louvre?”

─────────────────

japan had nothing on the bustling streets of paris. the sidewalks were filled to the brim with people mulling about, some on their phones with shopping bags and others chatting amongst themselves. the louvre was only a block away, crowded with tourists eager to see the mona lisa.

“no need to worry about the crowds,” tamaki gave you a smile when you two approached the louvre, “i set aside us a private tour of the musuem.”

“oh really?” you crossed your arms with disdain.

tamaki pouted, “would.. would you rather do a normal tour?”

you smiled, “yes please.”

the two of you pushed your way through the crowds and entered the louvre, you staring in awe of the artworks. tamaki concealed a small smile at your wonderment, he found it to be absolutely cute to watch. 

you’re more than a work of art, (f/n). was what tamaki wanted to say but he didn’t have the courage nor the guts to say it. 

“wow, the mona lisa is so tiny!” you commented to tamaki when you two found the famed piece of art. you were right, the mona lisa was surprisingly small. you grabbed tamaki by the hand and pulled him closer to the painting, “look how beautiful it is, amajiki-san.”

tamaki grew flustered at your touch but gave your hand a light squeeze, “(l/n)-san.. you can call me tamaki, if you want.”

you gave him a look and tamaki cursed internally. was it too soon to be on a first name basis?

“okay, tamaki.”

tamaki let out a sigh of relief.

“where would you like to go next?” tamaki questioned to you after the two of you finished your tour of the louvre. 

you pondered on the question for a moment. 

“let’s go shopping.”

─────────────────

tamaki patiently waited outside a fitting room, as you tried on various articles of clothing. he offered to pay– his parents gave him an allowance for the trip– and to his surprise, you actually accepted his offer. 

“you alright in there..?” tamaki asked, not wanting to walk in on you half naked.

there was some rustling and you emerged from the dressing room, “how do i look?” you asked tamaki, twirling around in your new dress.

tamaki gulped at the sight of the dress. its neckline highlighted your collarbone quite nicely and hugged your curves just right. he pulled at his collar and adverted his gaze, “er.. you look.. uh.. very nice..”

“i do?” you hugged his arm and pressed yourself against tamaki. he was sweating bullets now, “yes! y- yes, you d- do!” his eyes widened, not his stutter coming back at the worst possible moment.

“you have a stutter?”

shit. shit. shit. shit. shit.

“so wh- what if i d- do..”

“it’s cute.”

tamaki’s eyes widened.

“y- you th- think so?”

you nodded rapidly, “of course i do! i’m not gonna poke fun at it.”

tamaki coughed, “th- thanks.”

“of course,” you released your hold on his arm, “the night is still young, what should we do next?”

tamaki peered outside, nightfall was upon the city.

“a trip to paris isn’t complete without a visit to the effiel tower now, isn’t it?”

─────────────────

being on top of the effiel tower made the world seem so small. 

tamaki took a moment to enjoy the cold breeze that passed through his indigo locks, closing his eyes and just enjoying the feeling of being on top of the world for a moment. you stood next to him, doing the same thing. you hated to admit it but this had been the most fun you have had in a while. all thanks to tamaki amajiki, of course. 

“hey tamaki?”

“yes, (f/n)?”

“can i tell you a secret?”

tamaki opened his eyes, “of course.”

you stared out onto the city of lights and leaned against the guardrail.

“i never left japan until yesterday.”

tamaki laughed, “that’s not much of a secret. it was a little obvious.”

you scrunched your nose up in annoyance, “meanie.”

tamaki acted wounded, “that hurt.”

you rolled your eyes, “i enjoyed today. i hope you can ensure the same for tomorrow.”

tamaki looked down at his shoes and sighed, “i hope i can.”

“hey tamaki?”

“yes?” he looked up.

“what’s the real reason you invited me on this trip?”

tamaki hung his head down low.

“tamaki, look at me.”

he looked back up.

“tell me the truth.”

tamaki couldn’t lie to you anymore.

“it’s because.. i like you, (f/n).”

now it was your turn to hang your head low.

“why me, tamaki?”

tamaki pressed his lips together, “what do you mean?”

taking his hands into yours, the two of you were forced to look one another in the eye. you took a deep breath and began to speak your piece.

“i want to know the real tamaki amajiki. not this fake version. i think the closer we got was what happened in the fitting room. i get it, you’re rich.. but you didn’t have to whisk me away to paris just to confess that you had a crush on me, tamaki.”

“wh- what should have i done instead..?” not the stutter!

you half-smiled, “take me out for coffee, silly.”

was it really that simple?

“maybe i- i do that next time.”

“next time?”

fuck, was there not going to be a next time?

“there won’t be a next time until you tell me about yourself,” you gave tamaki a playful punch in the shoulder. he winced a bit but played it off. tamaki looked back out onto the city, “what would you like to know?”

“what’s it like being an heir?” you leaned against the guardrail.

tamaki tilted his head back and let out a long breathe, “exhausting.”

you cocked your head to the left, “how so?”

“my parents have high expectations of me. forcing me to go to college to study business for the sole purpose of taking over the company. this might sound silly but i wanted to study food science and become a nutritional therapist,” tamaki clasped his hands together tightly, “there’s no true freedom. money has a price and that price is your freedom. the public hounds you, the elite is full of backstabbers, and i just want to settle down with a nice girl.”

“and that nice girl would be?” you smiled.

“you, of course.”

you blushed at tamaki’s response.

“i would give up all the money i have if it means i can be with you,” tamaki confessed with tears in his eyes, “i truly mean it. i fell in love with you the moment i saw you in that coffee shop, (f/n) (l/n).”

“re- really?” now you were stuttering. 

“truly,” tamaki cupped your cheeks and bore his eyes into yours, “i truly mean it. i only want you, (f/n). i would give you everything and anything you could have ever wanted. i want to be there for you.”

“b- but you barely know me!” you protested.

“then let me get to know you,” tamaki fired back.

you were rendered speechless. you adverted your gaze from tamaki and he removed his hands from your face. tamaki bowed his head in disgrace, “i- i’m sorry, (l/n)-san.”

“it’s okay, tamaki!” you exclaimed, “really it is. i admire your fire. i want to get you better, as well. truly, i do.”

tamaki relaxed his shoulders and placed a hand against his chest in an effort to calm his rapidly beating heart. you looked heavenly under the lights of the effiel tower with your new dress and your pearly white smile. he just wanted to kiss your damn face already. 

“tamaki.”

“yes, (f/n)?”

“here,” you pressed a kiss to his lips. tamaki’s eyes widened for a moment before he closed them, allowing himself to get lost in the kiss. your lips tasted like the croissant you had earlier that day. tamaki could kiss you forever. 

“let’s get to know one another better before a second date, okay?”

tamaki was more than fine with that. 

one day, he’ll be yours.

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Highlights from the “All I’ve Got Is a Photograph” live stream with Phil, Joe, and Ross

DISCLAIMER: towards the end in the last half hour, my computer was lagging a lot, so I probably missed up to a solid five minutes in total. That being said, some things on here may or may not be clarified.

Joe is VERY TAN HOLY SHIT it is very attractive

Phil getting Mike Wazowskied by the chat when he first came on

all the implications that Joe is not in Dublin right now

“My name is Ross Halfin and I’ve been photographing Def Leppard for about... oh, five minutes?”

people cutting out, leaving an awkward silence, and Joe giving a solid English “Wot?”

the way Joe pronounces the word “mosquitos”

in Holland 1984 Joe left his window open and when he got home there were mosquitos all over the fucking ceiling, so he had to vacuum them off and put the trash bag like 4 blocks away so they wouldn’t come back

Joe saying that Heinz baked beans are an “English delicacy”

^^Furthermore, saying he’s eaten cold baked beans sandwiches on butter bread before

literally all three of them PLUS THE GUY WHO WORKS FOR THE VAULT seeing a photo from Euphoria era and collectively agreeing it’s from the Slang tour and no one corrected them

^^meanwhile everyone in the chat is ripping their hair out saying “IT’S EUPHORIA OMFG”

As per the infamous story where their plane dropped 2000ft in 3 seconds: there was an ashtray floating right in front of Sav, and when the plane got back to normal, it smacked him in the face

^^Joe and Phil laughing a lot at this

Joe saying he loves the bathtub photos of himself: “the shot of me in the bath has always been one of my favorites because it’s just so goofy and it sums up my personality”

Ross’s small black fluffy dog on the couch in the background

Ross saying the bathtub photos had a purpose because Joe was “hunk of the month or something”

^^ Joe laughing at that

I have yet to find out if this is true but- Joe said Slash is Bowie’s godson...??

Joe further regretting his early 90s outfits

Joe being embarrassed by this photo:

^^ (while trying not to look embarrassed) “there’s not a lot you could say about it”

^^^ furthermore explaining he was only doing that because Rik Mayall from The Young Ones was in the pit at the foot of the stage doing that at him during a rehearsal, so Joe did it back to him “sadly, Ross just so happened to be there and captured it”

Ross being the mom friend, trying to get them to behave and pay attention in order to take photos

Rick being the worst one to pay attention during photoshoots

Sav taking the longest to get dressed before a photoshoot

Phil talking about how his pants ripped onstage on the Hysteria tour and “stuff” was “hanging out”

me being once again reminded that that iconic photo of all of them in their Union Jack booty shorts and tank tops was taken less than hour away from me ;-; (not important but anyway)

Joe saying he would wear the Union Jack shorts again next year

Ross getting overly excited whenever he remembered when/where/why something was taken

Joe’s memory still being super accurate and oddly specific

Joe has one of Phil’s old guitar straps and it’s rusted from sweat, plus it’s in a drawer in his studio in Dublin

Joe retelling the story of how they met Brian May:

“hi boys, I’m Brian from Queen :D” Joe, right into the camera: NO SHITE, M8

Bri in ‘83: *plays the opening riff to photograph* Joe, internally, watching him from afar: *level up* :o

Joe- “I will forever go down in pub quiz history as the first person to sing with Queen after Fred died”

Joe eating “a bunch of greasy vegetarian food” then traveling with Robert Plant on his private plane, then “going through the most horrendous turbulence, then about ten minutes before we landed, I just BARFED all over the place”

^^Robert laughing because Joe puked everywhere and all over himself

^^Robert giving Joe one of his shirts to wear instead of the barfy one

^^It’s a black long sleeved illuminati shirt

^^Joe still has it

Joe said he recently had a knee replacement and will “probably have to get the other one done soon”

^^He blames his constant air splits for his knees being fucked up now

Joe reenacting neutral photoshoot poses and staring right into your soul through his camera

Ross confirming the “pissing into the sink” story from ‘79

Joe saying they can’t afford Ross anymore and that he needs to lower his prices and Ross cackling at this

Phil recalling a photoshoot where a seagull shat on his head and he had to go wash it off

^^Joe absolutely fucking LOSING IT it at this. I’ve never seen him laugh so hard I swear he was almost CRYING with laughter it was so adorable

Joe acknowledging how tan he looks because “I’ve been spending a lot of time in the sun these past few months- as you can tell”

^^Joe brushing his hair back so you could see his tan face

Joe saying they (the band) were “fortunate enough to avoid the virus”

Joe stole the “don’t forget us and we won’t forget you” line from (big surprise) Ian Hunter

we ALMOST got through this hour and a half live stream WITHOUT Joe advertising Mott the Hoople we were SO CLOSE GUYS

Joe blowing a kiss at the end of it

Phil thanking the fans UwU

Joe waving goodbye as the Vault closed and sounding sad when he said “cheers, see ya”

ENORMOUS thank you to @ballistic-lipstick-dream-machine​ for paying for a ticket and letting me watch it in real time even tho she couldn’t ilysm ;-;

[coeurdastronaute]

Kiwi 13

Previously on Kiwi

“I can’t.” 

“You’re an absolute moron.” 

Clarke nodded with a frown as she looked at the magazines spread out in front of her by her best friend. The counter space looked to be dwarfed under the weight of the copious images of herself moving through Irish castles with her rockstar girlfriend. Musician, she chided herself, fondly remembering Anya’s exasperated groan when she used the ‘R’ word.

“I can’t just go. I’m sure Gabe is going to line me up a few interviews for after my internship. I’ve done good work.” 

“So what?” 

“I want to see where my career goes.” 

“So your career wouldn’t benefit from following your rockstar girlfriend across the globe?” Raven furrowed and scoffed all at once. “You sound ridiculous.” 

“I want to do my own thing.” 

“You’re young and hot. Stop over thinking it.” 

“I can’t just follow her around. Plus she hasn’t formally asked me yet.” 

“Yet? You’re waiting for her to do it, aren’t you?” 

One more time Clarke looked down at the pictures of them across their last visit, the two of them enjoying a walk through the park, talking about something she couldn’t even remember. It was weird to see herself happy, or at least to see what she looked like to the rest of the world when she wasn’t paying attention. Even Lexa looked different through the lens of a paparazzi. She had a confidence that seemed almost natural to her being and it came across as she had her arm around Clarke’s shoulder and in the middle of saying something. They were what Clarke always hoped. 

There was still a big part of her that was resistant to staying at Lexa’s place. It felt like a handout, like an advantage she shouldn’t exploit. It didn’t seem fair to have plane tickets bought for her and to never cover dinner. How could she take a position as professional girlfriend on tour? 

But also, how could she not? 

“Where is she now?” 

“Germany.” 

“So she’s almost done with Europe and then coming back this way, right?” 

“East coast and then South America.” 

“When is she back here?” 

“Three weeks.” 

“Think about it. You can give it a go. She only has like how many more shows anyway?” 

“At that point, at least thirty.” 

Raven took a deep breath. She looked around the condo that was more beautiful than any place she’d seen in the city. There was a pile of Clarke’s books in a corner. There were pictures and camera equipment spread out on a desk in the corner. Clarke was wearing one of Lexa’s tour shirts. 

“You like her?” 

Clarke took a deep breath and sipped from her coffee cup. It was fairly obvious to anyone who was looking how she felt, she just didn’t want to admit it to herself because then she would be in it, and she would have to figure it out. 

“We promised not to fall in love.” 

“That’s a dumb promise to make to a guitarist who looks hot when she’s sweating and apparently is the best sex of your life.” 

“I don’t want to be in love, but when I’m with her I just…”

“Are.” 

“Yeah,” Clarke nodded. 

“I know Finn did a number on you. And that’s fair. He was a terrible person who treated you badly, and didn’t prioritize your anything over his own.But Lexa is nothing like that.” 

“She might not even ask me.” 

“She might not know how.” 

“I really don’t like this sage, jedi level shit you’ve developed,” Clarke accused. “It’s the worst. Why are you like this?” 

Raven smiled and searched her friend’s face as she looked at the pictures spread out between them. It took a moment before Clarke looked back at her and hid behind the coffee mug. 

“Because I didn’t stop Finn, and I’m not going to fail again.” 

Clarke softened slightly and furrowed. Raven moved to flip a page to a different couple, to a different celebrity, to a different conversation. 

“You didn’t fail. I kept myself in that relationshi--”

“No. I did.”

They paused and looked at each other until Clarke’s phone vibrated on the edge of the table. They wouldn’t say anything else about it. There wasn’t anything more to argue about or try to assert what they both knew to be true. 

“How was the show?” Clarke smiled as she answered the video call. 

“Not bad. I played that cover you like.” 

“Raven has a suggestion.”

“Oh, does she?” 

Quickly, Raven ran around the table and put herself on screen before taking the phone completely. 

“I think you should really look into doing a cover of like some Bikini Kill or like Sleater Kinney and reintroduce the youth to some riot grrl music, you know?” 

“Oh, just cover iconic bands of my formative youth?” Lexa nodded, wiping sweat from her brow as she walked down the corridor of some arena. “Why hadn’t I thought of it.” 

“I didn’t expect you to be scared of anything.” 

“I was thinking of maybe doing Hole? What do you think?” 

“I can be okay with that. When are you going to invite me to a show?” 

“Oh my god, that’s my girlfriend!” Clarke interrupted, trying to wrestle the phone back. “And that’s my line.” 

“I fully expect you both to be at my show in Atlanta when we get back to the States,” Lexa informed them. “And I’ll work on a cover you might approve of.” 

“See it’s not that hard,” Raven tossed a look at her friend. 

XXXXXXXXX

“No, no,” Lexa chuckled. “I’ve loved it. We’ve travelled before, but I made sure when they were putting the plan together, that we prioritized places we’d never played.”

Carefully, she adjusted the headset and smiled at the radio host. 

“This is your second world tour in five years. Some might say that’s a pretty intense schedule,” he continued. 

“Lexa writes better on the road,” Anya offered. “Something about being in a new place, late nights on planes and buses, unfamiliar park benches.” 

“You write on park benches?” 

“I have been known to enjoy a few moments in the park. I wrote most of this album on bus routes through Brooklyn. I jumped subway to subway with no end in sight and I’d write and when I got sick of writing, I’d read, pick up a book from a used bookstore wherever I got off.” 

“So how does studio time work for you both?” 

“We clock in at nine and clock out at four usually,” Anya took over as Lexa discreetly checked her watch. 

Indra gave her a look from the other side of the glass, and Lexa looked away slightly guilty. She craved that kind of guilt to keep her on the straight and narrow. It was the worst time for the tour, the end of a leg and the start of another. The break between them was minuscule, and she was eager to get back across the ocean. 

“When we’re working on album stuff, we’re pretty conversational, and both give equal input I’d say,” Anya waved her hands around. “But I feel like I get more input when Lexa’s doing something of her own. She takes direction better, weirdly enough.” 

“Stuff of your own?” he turned quickly, eyes glowing. 

“Lexa’s written like seven albums worth of songs, all over the place with genre and topic. She’s a girl of many talents.” 

“That’s definitely not true.” 

“I think I’ve heard this referenced before,” the host looked at his notes. “But you won’t be doing any solo work.” 

“Not until Anya’s too ancient to tour anymore.” 

The banter went round and round, and Lexa felt her power for keeping up with it waning quicker than usual. She had a flight after a show tonight, and in a day, she’d be with Clarke, and that was wonderful. 

“You made quite a splash on the wire recently seen with an unnamed girl out and about in the UK.”

“Me or Anya?” 

“Very funny,” her sister deadpanned. 

“Any chance you’ve written a few songs about your mystery girl?” 

“I’ve written many about her,” Lexa confessed with a blush. “She’s my favorite thing to write about in the whole world.” 

There was a moment of quiet in the pause of such honesty. 

“What does she think of it?” 

“Never heard anything, though I did promise to write her something about just her ass. And I don’t know if Anya will want to play a song about my girlfriend’s ass.” 

“Now that’s not true. I like Clarke’s ass.” 

After a chuckle from the host, Lexa drank from her water bottle and found herself growing a little excited to check her phone when it was all over. 

NEXT

[creativewritingpracticestudio]

Tour Life, Baby(Joey Jordison x Reader)

@fateblood I’m so, so, so sorry for the long wait! I watched as many interviews as I could to try and get a feel for Joey’s personality, sorry if it isn’t exactly right! This is younger Joey.

Description: Just a sweet fluffy fic about tour life on the road with Joey.

Warnings: Cursing

Permanent Taggers: @smokeandmirrorz @holyjunkie @overlyobsessedfangirl @slashevilsister

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauties.”

You awoke with a start as you felt the blankets being pulled off of you, and opened a bleary eye to see Corey, the lead singer of your boyfriend’s band, standing over you with a smirk on his face. Joey, who had fallen asleep while he was spooning you from behind, reached down and pulled the covers back over the two of you, shooting Corey a quick death glare. “Go away.”

Corey laughed, pulled the covers back down again, and walked off towards the opposite end of the tour bus. “You’ll have to get up anyway, Joey, we gotta do sound check. Come on, princess, get up and go change.” Corey left, dodging a pillow that Joey threw at him, and Joey groaned loudly as he burrowed his face into your neck. “I don’t wanna get up.”

You giggled, sitting up to rub the sleep from your eyes. “I know, Joey, but you gotta get up. You can sleep more after the concert.” He sighed, begrudgingly climbing out of the bunk. “Okay, okay. Kiss me first, though.” You leaned over and gave him a quick kiss, and he walked off towards the bathroom to change. You watched him go, smiling to yourself.

Even though you technically could have just stayed in bed and caught up on sleep, since you weren’t a band member and therefore didn’t have to go to sound check, you decided to get up and get ready too, just to be fair to Joey. When he came back from the bathroom, you were fixing yourself breakfast in the makeshift kitchen. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you cooked.

“Save me some for when I get back?” You smiled. “Sure, baby. Now get going before Corey comes in here and kicks your ass.” He groaned again, but kissed your cheek and walked out the door. You laughed as you watched him go. He really needs to start going to bed earlier. Of course, it wasn’t his fault entirely. The two of you had stayed up watching various children’s cartoons on the tour bus’s TV set until about 4 in the morning.

You spent the next two hours doing basically nothing except watching TV and eating snacks. At about 10:00AM, Joey walked back in, looking slightly less tired than he had earlier. “How was soundcheck?” He shrugged, but smiled. “Some fans came up to us on the way back, so we talked to them for a while and took some photos and signed some stuff.” You smiled. Joey absolutely loved meeting fans. “See? Bet that made soundcheck worth it!”

He laughed, sitting next to you and pulling you into his lap. “Missed you.” You smiled and kissed his cheek. “I missed you too, baby. Here, saved you some bacon and pancakes.” As he ate, he talked about the fans he’d met, including one who’d told him that he was their biggest inspiration for wanting to make music. Joey’s face lit up as he talked about it, and you couldn’t help but grin the whole time he spoke. You knew those kinds of things stuck with him.

You went to put the plates in the tiny kitchen sink, and turned to Joey with a smile. “Bet you’re excited to see all those other fans in VIP tonight.” He nodded. “Yeah. Speaking of which, the rest of the band and I won’t be back til at least 2 or 3 in the morning. Will you be okay here by yourself?” You shrugged. “I should be. I usually am, anyway.” Joey frowned. “That’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

You looked up, concerned. “What do you mean, baby?” Joey stared at you seriously. “Do you want me to fly you back home?” You raised your eyebrows, alarmed. Where was this coming from. “Do you want me to go back home?” He shook his head. “No, but I know it can’t be easy having to stay cooped up in this tour bus for so long. You can be honest. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to go home. I’ll pay for your ticket.”

You set down the plates and walked over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You then pulled away and looked him in the eyes. “Baby. Listen to me. I don’t want to go home. I’ll admit, it’s a little cramped on here sometimes, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you. Hell, I’ll go on a million tours with you if it means we can be together. I love you, okay?” You kissed him on the forehead.

Joey looked relieved. “Thank fucking God. I was trying to be caring or whatever but I really didn’t want you to go. I’ll go insane if I have to do this without you. I love you too.” You laughed and gently ruffled his hair as you went back to washing dishes. “Good thing I’m not leaving anytime soon. You can’t get rid of me, Joey, I’m like a plague.” You flicked dishwater at him, and he fake-complained. “Babe, watch the shirt!”

Things were quiet for a few minutes as you washed the dishes and Joey looked over the letters he’d been given by fans, and then after about 15 minutes, Joey spoke up. “You know, you could come with me to the concerts if you wanted to. I know they get really loud, but you could stand on the side of the stage and you could wear earplugs or headphones or whatever.” You thought it over for a moment.

“You know what? That sounds like fun. I’ll go!” Joey perked up and smiled. “Okay, sounds good. You can be like my cheerleader. Ew, why did I say that? Ignore me. Don’t be a fucking cheerleader. Just be you.” You giggled. “Aw, no, why can’t I be a cheerleader? I’ll wear a mini skirt and do a cute little chant for you!” Joey playfully rolled his eyes. “I love you, but I’ll call security on you if you do that, baby.”

You smirked. “They can’t catch me. Anyway, maybe I can hang out during the VIP meet and greet and meet some of your fans!” Joey grimaced. “I don’t know about that. One of the fans I met earlier said something about trying to steal you from me if they ever met you.” You grinned. “Really? Were they cute?” Joey threw a napkin at you, which you dodged as you burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

——————————-

“Fuck, that was epic!” You followed Joey onto the tour bus, the both of you sweaty as hell and extremely tired. It was about 1 in the morning, and the two of you had just gotten back from the concert. Joey’s hair was wild, and his mask was pushed up on his head. He tiredly sat down on one of the couches and grinned. “Yeah?” The rest of the band had decided to go out and party at a bar for a little bit, so it was just the two of you. “Yeah! You guys rocked!”

He rested his head against the wall. “My bones hurt.” You pouted. “Aw, poor baby.” He good-naturedly flipped you off, and you laughed as you plopped down next to him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “Ew, baby, you’re sweaty.” He rolled his eyes. “Love you too. And you’re not exactly one to talk. I don’t even know how you managed to sweat at all, considering all you did was watch us perform.”

You shrugged. “Who knows? Either way, we need to shower and go to sleep so you don’t wake up in the morning cranky again.” Joey glared. “I’m not cranky in the morning.” You walked towards the tour bus’s shower and smirked. “Whatever you say, Jordison. Come on, I’m tired and my shirt is practically glued to my body.” He begrudgingly got up and followed you to the bathroom. “I’m using your shampoo this time. It smells better than mine.”

Within an hour, the two of you were showered and in bed, you in one of his tshirts and a pair of his boxers. “Why the hell aren’t they back yet? Assholes.” You laughed. “They probably just got arrested for vandalism or something, don’t worry. Now go to bed before I knock you out myself.” Joey cuddled up to you and laid his head against your shoulder, closing his eyes. “Night, baby. I love you.” You smiled and kissed his forehead. “Love you too.”

Joey quickly fell asleep, and you stared up at the ceiling, feeling happier than you’d ever been. Life on tour could be crazy, and cramped, and sometimes even a little boring, but being with Joey was better than anything else. You’d put up with a thousand nights of craziness and drunk bandmates and being sweaty if it meant he’d always be with you. No matter what happened, it was you and him, putting up with the tour life together. That’s tour life, baby.

[tuffduff]

Rock Stars Make Bad Boyfriends (Vince Neil x Reader x Slash)

Pairing: Vince Neil x Reader x Slash

Words: 3,170

Request: anon! : “hi again! i’ve got another idea for an imagine so i came right to your blog - hopes that’s okay! i had an idea where the reader kind of has an unofficial thing with Vince Neil but he’s stringing her along - flirting with other girls and such almost in front of the reader’s face - & she ends up meeting slash when gnr and the crue are on tour. slash immediately falls for her & she falls for him too but slash sees how Vince treats her. slash eventually asks her on a date & vince ends up hearing about it & confronting the reader about it. she tells him she really likes slash and she’s done with him and eventually slash and the reader end up dating much to vince’s dismay. thank you so much!”

A/N: Yes, love; that is more than okay!! I love that y’all come to me with these ideas! I love this prompt and I think about this Motley/GNR tour a lot...even if it was short. Turned into a short fic, but hopefully y’all don’t mind that. Hope you’re all doing well!

Taglist: @ubernoxa​ @the--blackdahlia​ @reigns420​ @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker​ @rumoured-whispers​ @dustnbones​

“Vince?” The blonde kept his head turned away from you as though you hadn’t spoken a word. You felt the scowl on your face deepen as he sent a wave towards the girl working the outdoor bar of the hotel resort pool area. “Vince, are you even listening to me?” This time, your tone must’ve been enough to get his attention as he turned back to you.

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby. What were you saying?” You pushed your tongue against the wall of your mouth trying to summon patience; it’s not like you just spent the better part of the last five minutes trying to tell Vince about your day.

“I was talking about what happened earlier in the gift shop. There was a little girl who didn’t have enough money to buy this key chain, and a little old man bought it for her.”

“Mmm.” Vince’s head had turned again the minute you started talking. You frowned.

“And then the shop blew up. It was a huge explosion.”

“Mmhm.”

“The little girl and old man died.”

“That’s nice. Hey, I’m gonna go get us some more drinks, alright, baby?” Vince stood from his lounge chair without waiting for your reply. “Be right back!”

You sighed a little as you watched him unsurprisingly saunter over to the girl at the bar who was practically licking her lips.

All your girlfriends called you crazy for agreeing to go on tour with a rock star. Well, no; that was misleading. They encouraged going on tour, but expecting serious commitment from a rock star? In your dreams, they said. Rock stars don’t make good boyfriends.

You met Vince only about a month prior, so you knew it was nothing quite serious, but was it wrong for you to hope? You liked Vince. That first night neither of you could stop talking until the early morning hours, his eyes sparkling and unmoving from yours, his hand on your knee. But he was a humongous flirt. You tried not to let it get to you—after all, here you were poolside at a swanky resort in a room you didn’t pay for, going to concerts you didn’t have to buy tickets for. Tradeoffs, you supposed. Even still, you couldn’t help but glance over and over again as Vince stayed longer and longer at the bar. You tried to work on your tan and stay undeterred as you planned your outfit in your head for the show later.

That night, Vince complimented you already three times on the way to the arena, but that was only after he heard Tommy telling you that you were looking “hot as fuck, dude.” You still counted it as a win. Then you scolded yourself; were relationships supposed to be about winning?

You also heard Nikki saying something about how their new opening band would be starting tonight, kicking off this leg of the tour. Guns N’ Roses—you had never heard of them, but the name sounded cool. They must have been good if they were opening for the Crue.

Despite his sweet talking and possessive touch all the way to the arena, Vince soon abandoned you once you actually got there. You brushed it off; you weren’t a child. He did have a show to get ready for—you tried not to notice how many groupies you were already seeing walk by, though. There were more interesting things to see anyways. At least, you were determined to find them.

That turned out, again, to be wishful thinking. You didn’t have complete access to every part of the arena, and really, you felt bad about being in the way of all the crew members. That led to you finding the door outside, to the back of the arena, where you hoped to just find a quiet place for a moment.

It took two tugs with all your strength to actually pull open the heavy doors, but instead of opening a gateway to the outside, another body toppled into you. You let out a startled yelp.

“Oh, thank fuck, man!” You heard a soft voice say in relief. There was so much hair in your face that you couldn’t see behind all the black unruly coils to untangle yourself from this mystery guy. “I went outside just to smoke and like, chill before the show, you know, but the doors fucking locked—” you both finally untangled and you found yourself face to face with, well, still a whole lotta hair.

He had on black leather pants and a denim jacket with black sleeves, along with cowboy boots. You couldn’t see his eyes behind his curls, but you were sure he was staring right at you.

“Woah, uh...” he murmured. His voice never changed from the soft murmur. “I thought you were security or something.” You chuckled and watched as he pushed his hair away from his face, revealing pretty, brown, fascinated eyes that were, indeed, staring right at you. You could feel heat growing in your cheeks, but did your best to stay calm.

“No, just a lost soul.” You joked lightly. He blinked a few times at you, almost dumbfounded. He was adorable.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something fun.” A smile grew on his face at your reply.

“I can show you that. I’m Slash.”

“Slash?” You asked in amazement, and he chuckled.

“Yeah, well, my name’s Saul. But I’ve been called Slash for years.” Saul. Slash.

“Okay, cool. I’m Y/N.” You both exchanged smiles and he jerked his head, waiting to make sure you walked beside him rather than behind him.

He took you to where the rest of his band was gathered and introduced you to an eclectic group, all of whom were nice and chill. Less chaos than Motley, but still had that aura hanging in the air, that they were on the verge of destruction, that they were a gang.

Slash, though soft-spoken, asked you question after question—where you were from, what you normally did for fun, what music you liked as he strummed a guitar mindlessly. You watched his fingers in amazement, how effortless he made the action look. And then came his question, “why are you backstage?”

“Oh, well, I’m with—” Speak of the devil…

“Y/N?” You turned at the sound of the door slamming open and Vince appearing in the door frame. “Where the fuck have you been, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I’ve been listening to these guys jam. You guys picked a great opening act.” You replied coolly, and you couldn’t help but notice the way Slash smiled down at his guitar silently.

“Well, you’re supposed to be helping me with my makeup,” Vince didn’t hesitate to cross the room and pull you off the couch you were sitting on by your arm, giving you no chance in the matter. “Or, something more productive. Like putting that pretty mouth of yours to use.” You sent Vince a look and immediately snatched your arm out of his grip. No way were you going to tolerate being disrespected like that in a room full of people.

“If you wanted a sex toy to bring on the road with you, I’m sure you could have had plenty of other girls—that’s not what I am.” You replied, pushing around him and walking out of the room. Vince chased you down the hall.

“Hey! Y/N, wait! Hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Vince cooed, pulling you to a stop and pressing his lips to your neck. “I just wanted to make sure they knew you were with me; I just get jealous. Especially when you look so fucking good tonight.” You let it go, but you didn’t forget the incident. And you especially didn’t forget the moment later, when you were watching Motley Crue perform from the side of the stage, as a hand gently touched your shoulder. It was Slash.

“Hey...you ever...want...someone...find...” you couldn’t hear him over Mick’s guitar.

“What?” You yelled at him. He laughed before leaning in close to your ear. He had to brush your hair back, and his lips were practically touching your skin.

“If you ever get bored or want to have fun with someone while you’re on tour, come and find me.”

The implication of that almost had you nervous; did all these guys just think you were a road groupie? But, sure enough, Vince ditched you once more at another show and you found yourself knocking on the Guns N’ Roses dressing room door. And there was Slash, answering the door with a smile as though you had known each other for years. “Hey, dude. Check this out, tell me what you think.” He played you a guitar riff he had been working on and waited expectantly to hear your thoughts after. And that was that, you were fast friends.

You weren’t sure how to explain the phenomenon, but you knew it was mutual. Just a special connection; even when you were both still learning about each other, it felt more as if you were remembering. It was like putting on a pair of boots that had already been worn in.

And you knew it was mutual because, according to his bandmates, Slash was pretty shy unless he was drunk. But not with you; he could talk your ear off. Somehow in just a couple weeks, it felt as if you were best friends.

That was an incredible feeling in itself; at this age in life, could you really meet another person out of the blue and grow so close so fast? But beyond that, there were little moments. These moments you quickly grew to live for, these moments made your heart race and your palms sweat.

Moments when you looked over at him, cigarette hanging from his mouth as he focused on the guitar, and you never wanted to kiss a pair of lips more. Moments when you thought maybe, just maybe, Slash felt the same. He would hug you in greeting every time he saw you, but sometimes leave his arm around your waist, effectively holding you to him until he had to let you go. When you would swear you caught him already staring because of how fast he turned his head away.

“Y/N, I can’t wait for you to meet Pandora.”

“Who’s that?” He smiled up at you, his head resting on your lap as it usually did, a guitar resting in his.

“She’s my boa.”

“Your...your snake?”

“She’s the sweetest—she’s gonna love you.”

He wanted you to meet his snake—or, snakes. You laughed, and for some reason, you felt such a wave of affection hit you at just the thought of his existence. You spent more time watching Guns open from the side of the stage than you did watching Motley—you were usually goofing off with Slash at that point. Suddenly, Vince’s continuing disappearances didn’t bother you so much. The only thing that actually did bother you was when Slash would walk you up to your always empty hotel room every evening. The both of you would drag your steps every time and take unnecessary trips to the snack machine, or stand out on the balcony to check out the moon. Just anything to prolong ending the night.

“Empty again,” you joked to Slash as you opened the hotel room door to dark and vacant room. You weren’t even sure why you and Vince kept up the charade anymore—he hadn’t even kissed you in days. At this point, you were riding to the arenas with Slash and his band.

Slash didn’t laugh like you thought he would. He was looking down, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Can I ask you something and you promise to not get mad?” He asked you. His words were almost rushed, as though he had to gather courage to even say them.

“Yeah, of course you can. What’s up?”

“Do you actually like him? Vince?” He ventured. “I mean, I know you don’t love him, but...”

“How do you know that?” You asked out of curiosity, certainly not out of disagreement. He was right, of course. Slash shrugged a shoulder.

“I would just imagine, you know...if you love someone, you would want to be around them. Tell them things first, eat with them, just kinda look to them first.” You listened to his words, realizing over the past few days you had been doing all of the above with Slash. You had given up trying to tell the nuances of your day to Vince, but Slash listened when you told him how you short circuited the electricity with your blow dryer at the hotel. He laughed at your jokes or when you tripped backstage because he was always watching you. He gave you his jacket when he saw you shiver once, he made sure you got food after the show if you were still hungry. When he was drunk and carefree, he wouldn’t chase after groupies. He would come and find you and fall asleep on your shoulder.

“I don’t love Vince.” You confirmed softly. “Vince...had me fooled into thinking he was someone else. That he cared.”

“Then why are you with him?” You stared back at him, unable to give him an answer.

“I don’t...”

“Let’s go out.” You felt your heart jump.

“We’ve...we’ve been out, though.”

“Y/N, Denny’s after midnight is hardly a date.” He said, though he was fighting a smile; that was a good memory.

“Depends on who you ask,” you chuckled, making him chuckle. “Wait, did you say a date?”

“Well, yeah. That’s what I mean.” He said softly. “Listen, Y/N. I think you’re pretty cool. And I dunno, I’ve never really...like, there’s a lot of pretty girls out there, right? But you’re so fucking beautiful I thought I was seeing things when you opened the door that day. Then, I found out you were with Vince, and I tried to let it go, but I see how he treats you, and it pisses me off. You deserve better. But you just, us, you and I, we click, you know? I know you feel it, right?” You nodded after a moment and felt your heart flip again when he smiled. “So, give it a chance. We have the day off tomorrow. Let’s fucking do something fun—I don’t know, we can go to the fucking zoo! Or go find some concert somewhere or just, go anywhere.”

“...Okay.” You agreed with a smile. He grinned back at you.

“Okay? So like, early afternoon? 4 or something?” You smiled; was he that excited to see you? Your heart hadn’t been this giddy in a long time.

“Yeah, that sounds great with me.”

It was barely 3 in the afternoon and you were towel drying your wet hair, fresh out of the shower, when your hotel room slammed open. Vince appeared for the first time since you’d last seen him before the concert the night before, staring at you with what you could only describe as fury. You stared at him silently.

“Can you fucking tell me why all the Guns N’ Roses guys are hyping up Slash for his big date tonight with Y/N?” He demanded. You looked down, waiting for the shake and guilt to hit you, but it never came.

“Vince, it’s not like we were in love with each other.” You said with quiet bluntness. Vince’s eyes grew wide.

“I brought you on fucking tour with me!”

“And ever since then you’ve left me night in and night out to go and sleep with every groupie that comes your way! We haven’t slept in the same bed in weeks! There are fucking lipstick stains on your neck right now, Vince!” He glanced in the mirror quickly before he cursed under his breath.

“Y/N...it’s just, the way it is, you know? That’s the life we live.”

“You just fuck other girls and have me waiting for you too? That’s the life?”

“Alright, I fucked up. I do care about you, Y/N, baby. I do. I’m trying. I’ll do better.” Vince’s voice was soft and sugary, and he walked over to you, grabbing your hand in his, holding your eyes with his. “Just give me another shot. We’ll have some fun.” This time, his smooth talking did nothing for you; your heart was already taken by someone else. You slipped your hand out of his and silently began gathering up your things.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Vince laughed as you shoved your clothes in your luggage. “C’mon, baby, just calm down. You’re not even dressed.” You sent him an incredulous look.

“I am more than calm. Goodbye, Vince.”

“Where are you going? Y/N, seriously! Oh, what—are you just gonna jump onto the next rock star? I thought you weren’t a groupie, huh? He just wants to fuck you and then he’ll drop you, just you fucking wait! That’s all we do!”

“No, that’s what you do. You don’t speak for him or me.” You snapped over your shoulder at Vince’s childish yelling. The door slammed behind you and you smirked a little.

You made your way through the hotel in your towel, barefoot and hair dripping, and knocked on the door you knew to be Slash’s. He opened it slowly in confusion, and felt your heart expand at the sight of him already dressed and ready to go much too early—clean hair swept out of his eyes, a flannel that was barely buttoned, and leather pants. He took one look at your bag and towel.

“It’s not 4 yet.” He said, the hint of a smile on his lips.

“Speak for yourself.” You said, fighting the urge to smile back. He leaned against the door frame, now smiling outright. “…You know, I think I just lost my backstage pass.” Slash laughed.

“It’s all good; I’ll sneak you in in my guitar case or some shit. And besides; this leg of the tour is almost over. We only have a few shows with them left. Next month, we’re opening for Alice Cooper.” He paused a little, his voice turning serious. “You know you can come, if you want.”

“I don’t know,” you murmured, looking down. Some of the things Vince had said were sinking in; you didn’t want to be known as just some groupie that jumped from band to band. Slash touched your shoulder in an effort to get you to look at him.

“I want you to come.” Your heart fluttered again, and threatened to soar out of your chest entirely when he leaned forward and gave you a light and sweet tender peck on the lips—your very first kiss together. He pulled back too quickly, laughing. “You look ridiculous.” You glanced back down at your towel again and laughed. Slash took your bag from your shoulder and stood aside. “You know, I’ve only got one bed in here.”

“That sounds good to me.”

[ilhoonftw]

I see you ranting about charts' manipulation and i'm LIVING FOR IT. I know it may sound weird coming from a person listening to bang*an music, but it's useless, meaningless and also WRONG.

if a song doesn't deserve 1st place bc it's not even close to be a good song to listen to, well... not even paying people to stream it will make it a good song, at the end of the day.

honestly, if a group I listen to keeps producing bad songs (like bang*an are doing), my first reaction would be disappointment; NOT the urge to pump it up in the charts.

aaa thank you for support 😭 i was wondering if i'm not going overboard 🙈

i'm not defending the institution ogf charts itself, bc the whole system is flawed, but doing things that are supposed to land your fave in #1 using loopholes... how many times melon had changed their policy in past 10 years because fanbases were doing the most™... the only people who are benefitting from the idol fans buying multiple accs and obsessive streaming etc... are people who own the charts and streaming services. artists get like 0,00000001 cent per stream in spotify, apple music pays more

charts used to measure what songs got so popular even normies know them 🙈 maybe im too used to 90s music scene and some band never making it on charts because some genres just dont chart... back then an album could have good sales but the single wouldn't chart in the main chart bc it just wasn't mainstream stuff you could play at 2pm on the radio. i never understood why suddenly 99% of artists' worth are chart / streaming / album sales numbers / yt views. artists make the most money off concerts and tours anyways. if an investor sees chart rank and thinks 'oh they will fill a big concert venue' but then tickets dont sell well bc welp the chart numbers were.. inflated.. who do you think loses face? your fave ofc.

10 years later people on yt will make one of those 'top song according to billboard chart every week in past x years' and everyone will comment 'how it was possible that group x... sus'.

i wouldnt mind if big time srush was making decent music, but wasn't i need u / blood sweat tears their last palatable songs 🙈🙈🙈

[fyexo]

200426 SuperM Set Unprecedented Live Streaming Concert to Give Back to Fans

When SuperM made their debut last fall, the seven members of the Korean supergroup said they wanted to use their platform to bring something fresh to the industry and to raise the bar for the K-pop scene. This weekend, SuperM — assembled from four of the most popular K-pop groups in Asia — take their talents to the world, with a one-night-only live concert that promises to connect artists and fans in a whole new way.

SuperM are the first artists tapped for “Beyond LIVE,” a new concert streaming service from SM Entertainment and the popular Korean search engine, Naver. Broadcast on the V LIVE app, the concert, airing Sunday, will showcase the chart-topping group performing live from a concert hall. SM says the show will be made available to stream from more than 200 countries.

The guys in SuperM say the concert is a way to give back to fans as millions of people continue to be quarantined under the current coronavirus guidelines. While a number of artists have been streaming performances from home or re-broadcasting old concert footage, “Beyond LIVE” is the first attempt to replicate a new, full-sized arena show online. The members will perform on stage, in front of a backdrop of screens and visuals all directed in real-time by a modified team of camera operators and choreographers in the venue. Using augmented reality (AR) technology, the group members will also be able to “communicate” with fans, as if they were in the venue together.

“Just recently, we had the privilege to be a part of ‘One World: Together At Home,’ and thankfully we had an overwhelmingly positive response from so many around the world, so it’s become a great memory for me,” shares Kai, who was chosen to join SuperM from the group, EXO. “But with ‘Beyond LIVE’ this time around, we can interact with our fans in real-time, and I’m really excited to showcase some of SuperM’s never-before-seen performances.”

“The fact that we have audiences from all around the globe that are with us and communicating together in real-time is pretty different from concerts with an in-person audience,” adds Ten, a member of the NCT Chinese sub-unit, WayV. “And because we’re also interactively connecting with our audiences through video, I know the fans will also like it.”

Fresh off a sold-out North American tour that took them across Canada and the U.S., the guys in SuperM say this virtual concert is a way for them to find new ways to expand the concert experience beyond the four walls of a traditional venue.

“Even though we can’t physically meet our fans at this time, we’re continually working hard to look for ways to interact with everyone,” says Taeyong, who recently released an album with NCT 127, before returning to SuperM to prep for this concert.

“Because this ‘Beyond LIVE’ concert is strictly for online, it’s pretty new for us too, especially because of the use of the AR graphics and technology that allows us to showcase our performances within a variety of [new] spaces,” explains Taemin, a founding member of the South Korean boyband, SHINee.

Ongoing coronavirus fears have meant a much different concert experience behind the scenes as well. While the members of the group have been quarantining together, the production company, Dream Maker Entertainment, says it has taken careful measures to ensure the health and safety of all artists and staff working on the show. Among the precautions: regular temperature checks and the enforcement of masks at all times. A rep for Dream Maker says building premises are fumigated early in the morning on the day of the performance and on rehearsal days. And, the company adds, anyone showing irregular health symptoms will be quarantined immediately.

For SuperM, the current climate may have changed their daily routine, but the guys say prepping for the concert has been a welcome distraction.

“I’ve been exercising a lot at home to ‘Stay Healthy, Stay Safe!'” says Lucas, breaking out a popular COVID-19 slogan. “There’s nothing like the feeling of sweating out after a hard workout,” says the WayV member. “I almost feel healed to a certain extent afterwards.”

“I spend so much time at home that I even have the nickname, ‘Homebody,’ because I’m known for being one,” adds Baekhyun, who joined SuperM from EXO. “Other than the times that I’m at the studio for recordings or the dance practice rooms, I’m usually just home playing games or resting. I really enjoy my times just being home and relaxing.”

SuperM have yet to reveal plans beyond Sunday’s concert, but the guys say their priority right now is making sure their fans stay safe.

“We’re just so happy to be able to interact with our fans through ‘Beyond LIVE’ [and] I hope this brightens up everyone’s days and gives some hope and strength amidst the hard times we’re going through,” says Mark, a member of NCT 127.

“I really miss our fans so much,” adds Baekhyun, offering a tip to “eat something delicious or pick up an old or new hobby when you’re feeling tired or down.”

“I’m really hoping the situation gets better so we can see everyone in person soon.”

Tickets for Sunday’s show are available for purchase within the V LIVE app and online. The price of a ticket ranges from $26 to $30, depending on the type of device you have. Organizers say the proceeds will be used to pay for the production crew and technical team helping to bring the concert to life.

SuperM is the first group to participate in the “Beyond LIVE” concert series. Fellow SM Entertainment group, WayV, performs on May 2nd, followed by NCT DREAM on May 9th, and NCT 127 on May 16th.

Source: Tim Chan @ Rolling Stone

[qtyanan]

Flashback

Summary: “You and Mark hadn’t seen each other in years. Now he’s famous, and you didn’t think he’d recognize you.”

Pairing&Rating: NCT Mark Lee + female reader ; FLUFF, slight angst

a/n: this is longer than expected, and super sappy, and it took me forever to finish it... but wow, soft mark hours are REAL and im gonna cry over him gn

“Where do you think we’ll be in five years?” 

“Mark, it’s like 3am, I thought you were asleep.”

“Well, you’re not asleep.”

You blindly reach towards Mark in the darkness, trying to hit him with a stuffed animal, causing him to snicker. Weekend sleepovers together were pretty normal, sleeping in the same bed wasn’t a worry from your parents since you’ve known each other for so long. Mark randomly saying things and asking questions about the past or future in the middle of the night was more common than sleeping

“Really, though. Do you think we’ll still be friends in five years?”

“I don’t know, probably,” you weren’t really sure on the answer, but you didn’t really have doubts. You two had been friends are as long as you can remember - classes, clubs, and sports were taken on as an unstoppable duo. Now you’re in eighth grade, half a year away from high school, and you’re closer than ever. It seems like nothing could tear you apart - and you liked it that way.

“I bet we will. I hope so, at least,” his voice sounds so sincere, it seems as if he had been thinking deeply on it for a while before he spoke of it. 

“Yeah, me too.” With that, he let out a delighted chuckle, and you both fell asleep. 

It had been six years. Six years and that conversation still plays in your mind late at night when you can’t sleep, painfully missing your favorite childhood friend. 

Not even a month after that sleepover, he moved away, seemingly never to be heard from again. All of your friends in class pestered you about where he went, and it only upset you more - because he didn’t tell you he was leaving. 

Him becoming a kpop star was probably the last thing you thought would happen to him; it was quite a slap in the face. BTS got you into kpop, then EXO, GOT7, now you’re into many different groups, including NCT. When you found them, and saw your prepubescent best friend, all grown up, dancing and rapping, you thought it was a dream. 

Now they’re on a world tour, and Canada is one of the stops. You could never pay for a fansign ticket, but finally, you managed to save the money to be able to attend. 

There were so many people around you. Many had some kind of merch, a lightstick or a sign. You could even count maybe 5 girls crying about meeting NCT. 

Your hand was in your pocket, nervously sweating and gripping your ticket - second row, 5th seat. In your other hand, was a baby pink gift bag with a little stuffed animal in it. Years ago, Mark had left the little bear at your house, and it seemed like a nice time to give it back to him. The wait in line outside seemed to take forever, and it added to your anxiety. 

You couldn’t understand why you were so anxious. He was your best friend, shouldn’t you be happy to see him? But you were so scared - what if he didn’t remember you? What if you went up to meet him, and he doesn’t even look twice? If you told someone, would they believe you? Of course not. The negatives in this situation made it hard for you to breathe. 

The girls sitting next to you on either side both shifted excitedly. One had a mask on and didn’t turn your way, but the other smiled at you. 

“Who’s your bias?” She asks, and you couldn’t control your smile. “Mark,” you say, and she smiles and nods. It was hard not to bias him, since you knew how he was off camera. 

“Aw, he’s so cute. He’s my bias too, he seems like such a sweetheart!” She squealed in delight, causing you to blush a little bit. 

This is it. As your row stood up and walked towards the fansign table, you felt like you could pass out. Yes, you were so excited to say hello to the other members, but it was almost the moment of truth - and you could only think of the bad. 

As you took the seat in front of Mark, he didn’t look up at you at first. For that half second, you really admired him. He looked so grown up, you realized just how long it’s been. You suddenly felt a wave of so many emotions wash over you.

“Hi! What’s your name?” 

“Y/N” 

He had his sharpie in his hand, your album in the other, ready to sign it like everyone else - but he obviously froze. Your stomach dropped, gulping hard. He slowly looked up at you, his eyes wide and mouth open. You almost really did cry, but then,

“Y/n... [your full name]..?” He went quiet, and you smile, nodding at him, trying to hold back your tears. 

“Hey, Mark, long time no see,” You chuckle, trying to joke so you don’t actually cry. 

“Wow, yeah, oh my gosh, how have you been!?” He said quickly then started scribbling something on the inside of the album cover. You laugh at his awkwardness, shrugging at the question with a little “eh.” 

“Here, I brought this for you.” You put the gift bag on the table, causing him to raise a brow at you. “It’s actually yours, from forever ago..” He looked inside the bag, and you noticed him take a big breath. He looked at you with big, glassy eyes - he felt this emotion too, he never thought he would see you again, or if you would even know where he was. 

“Y/n... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you-” He spoke quietly, but you were being pushed along to the next member by the manager and the girl next to you. You gave Mark a small smile, then shifted over to Johnny.

“Y/n, huh? Mark talks a lot about you.” Johnny gives you a little smile, causing you to blush madly. You glance over at Mark, who’s blushing as well, and he gave you a quick glance with a happy smile. 

When you finally arrive home, the day seemed like a dream. It was late at night, the drive home was only an hour, but you were tired. You kept playing the day in your head - he recognized you. Right away. That alone made you happy, but what you wouldn’t give to spend more time with him. 

Oh yeah, he signed your album, but you didn’t look at it yet. When you opened it, you knew his writing - his signature, and then... a number? He wrote ‘Whatsapp’ in messy letters. Of course, you message him right away, hoping at this hour, he’d answer.

And he did. All you said was ‘hey.’ 

‘you still live in the same house, right?’

‘yeah, why??’

‘go to the park, i want to see you’

Your heart was beating in your ears. You didn’t think it would lead to that, but at the same time you expected it. It was late, yes, but you hurriedly slip your sneakers back on and go back out to your car. 

You remember the park of course. It was mostly fields and trees, but you two would sneak out and play on the swings when you were younger. The last time you two went, Mark fell off his bike and hurt his ankle, so you had to call your mom and you two got in trouble. As you were driving, you snickered thinking about it. 

But... You couldn’t help but to feel nervous. It had been years, you didn’t think at all that you were ever on his mind. 

There wasn’t a single car on the road. The air was a bitter cold, it had snowed when you were on your way home, but none of it stayed on the ground. Every time you stopped at a red light, your stomach would turn again. You tried to calm yourself, but for some reason, it was just hard. You didn’t realize that you missed him this much. Now he had asked you to meet up at your childhood hangout place, and none of it seemed real. 

The gates to the park were closed, and a padlock kept them shut. You knew it would be like that, so you parked down the street and cut through the trees to the lonely swing set. You looked around, you didn’t see anyone. But, sitting alone on a swing, was a single person. In the bright moonlight, you could just barely make out that it was Mark. His back was turned to you, and you could see that his head was hung low, and he was holding himself from the cold. 

“Hey, Mark Lee,” Your voice startled him, but he stood and turned to face you. You couldn’t read his expression in the dim light. Neither of you walked closer for a moment, and the tension in the air made your shoulders go rigid. He didn’t say anything for a bit, he just stared at you. 

“You look exactly the same.” He finally said, taking slow steps towards you. You look away, afraid to see the look in his eyes now that he’s close enough to see it. His words oddly made you feel warmer, but you still shivered when the wind blew. 

“That’s surprising, it’s been six years.” You didn’t mean for your words to sound bitter, but they did. You hear him take in a heavy breath, and when he says nothing, you finally look up at him. His brown eyes glistened in the moonlight, and the shadows on his face made him look mature and defined. “You look different, though.” You say, a dry laugh following. “Older.”

“Well, it’s been six years.” He mocks you in the joking way, and you couldn’t hide your smile. This makes him smile as well, and while you looked away again, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“It’s been... six years...” He sounds breathless this time, like it finally settled on him how long it’s been. This forces you to look back up, and he now has a sad smile. His eyes are apologetic, same as when he tried to speak to you at the event. In a way it hurt you. His face holds pain in the situation, but in a way, this was his doing.  He was the one that left to be an idol. You didn’t hold that against him, but you were still upset that he left without telling you. You didn’t think that you two were ever going to part, and you still can’t believe that now his life has gone so differently from yours. He seems to be having an amazing life, but you’re lonely without him, and for some reason... mad.

But the way he looked at you, you didn’t show your anger - it melted away when he put his hand on your arm. 

“I’ve missed you, Y/n. You don’t have to believe me, but I think about you all the time.”  You wouldn’t believe him normally, but even Johnny said it.  “Y/n, huh? Mark talks a lot about you.”

You chew on your lip nervously, you have no idea what to say to him. What does a person do in a situation like this? You just stare at him for a moment. He’s closer to you now, and you see just how tired he is. His blonde hair is messy, different from how you saw him earlier. 

“Are you okay, Mark? You look... so tired.” 

“Mark, please, calm down.” Johnny tries to make Mark sit down, but the younger is pacing across the hotel room, almost pulling out his own hair.  “I am so stupid!! How could I not have said more?! It’s been years and I barely said anything!! She probably hates me for leaving...” Mark’s almost on the verge of tears as he speaks frantically, and all he wants to do is scream.

“She came today, so she doesn’t hate you. Just talk to her some more-” 

There’s a ding from Mark’s phone. He quickly picks it up, then looks at Johnny. 

“It’s Y/n. Oh god, what do I say?!” 

“Maybe you should go and see her. You said we’re pretty close to your hometown right?” 

“Yeah...yeah! But how will I meet her anywhere?” 

“I’ll drive you, just tell her to meet you somewhere.” 

The moments that happened before he came here played in his head, but he said nothing to you about it. He just gave you a small smile and shrugged his shoulders. 

“I just haven’t been sleeping well. Surprise, surprise, right?” You just give him an awkward smile. This made you chuckle. He’s always had trouble sleeping, he used to tell you how his mind was moving too fast for him to fall asleep. He always wanted to listen to soft songs to sleep, or he would ask you to sing along to a song you knew well. 

“I guess things like that will never change.” You say, and for some reason, your words lingered in the cold air for a moment. Without any thought, you put your hand over Mark’s, feeling how cold his fingers are. You took both of his hands into your jacket sleeves, something you used to do as you two waited for the school bus during winter. 

He feels another wave of emotion flood over him, and this time, he can’t seem to keep the tears away. He sucks in a shaky breath, looking down at your hands.

“Mark...” You feel this aching pain in your chest at seeing him like this. 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/n...” His voice cracks, and he can’t bring himself to look up at you.

“Mark, look at me.” Your voice is soft but stern enough for him to obey, his body relaxing slightly at the sweet look in your eyes. “I’m not mad at you. I never was.” You tell him, holding on tightly to his hands now. 

“R-really?”

You can see his tears glistening in the moonlight, and you release one of your hands to wipe his cheeks. He flutters his eyes closed, resting his face against your hand.

“Really, Mark. I’m so proud of you. I just want you to be happy.” 

His lip quivers at your words, and he closes his eyes tightly. “I’m not happy. Not without you being my best friend.” 

The feeling his words gave you made you want to burst into tears, but instead, you threw yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. He doesn’t hesitate to hold you, gripping your jacket with a death grip, as if he knows you’ll disappear any second. You stand in silence for what feels like forever. His embrace doesn’t loosen at all, and you’re okay with it. You miss his hugs, his smell and his warmth. He’s taller and more muscular now, making the way he holds you make you feel even warmer. 

“Please... keep contact with me, okay? Please...” You say into his shoulder, feeling a little ridiculous that you begged him like that. He takes a deep breath into your hair as if imprinting your smell into his soul.

“I promise, Y/n. I don’t want to leave you again. God, I’ve missed you so much...” He loosens his arms around you just enough to be able to look you in the eye, watching how the moon and stars seemed to be held in your eyes. 

The thought of being able to see and talk to him more made a weight lift off your shoulders. A happy smile forms on your face as you nod at him, and he nods back. 

“So, uh... I had to sneak out to see you... I should probably get back before my manager kills me.” He awkwardly chuckles, but even with saying that, he doesn’t let you go - God please, not yet, just a little longer.

“Yeah... My mom might kill me if she finds out I’ve stayed out so late.” You giggle, making his chest warm up. You wouldn’t believe how much he has missed your laugh. 

“I’ll text you, okay?” He finally lets go of you, and you shiver from the cold air once again. He nod at him, waving goodbye to him as he runs to Johnny’s car. You stand there for a moment, watching as they pull away. It takes a moment for you to actually comprehend what just happened, and you ended up standing there for almost 5 minutes.  Your phone chimes, and you look down to see another message from Mark.

‘get home safe. I love you, dork.’ 

bitch im so fkin soft 

[lonestarbabe]

Holding Out For A Hero

Chapter 7: Paralyzed (AO3)

T.K.

T.K.’s day didn’t start well. When he woke up at eight am because of his phone vibrating against his nightstand, he knew that he was getting up on the wrong side of the bed. He had every intention of not answering, but when he saw that it was mom, he picked up right away. This conversation will end one of two ways: she’ll lie about looking forward to my show tonight or she’ll make an excuse why she can’t come to the show tonight.

“Mom?” T.K. asked in case he’d somehow misread the caller ID. She didn’t usually call him. She was more of an email person. He’d tried to get her to convert to text, but she said that she already had to send emails for business anyway so it was easier to use one platform. She was one of the few women in America who didn’t want to text him; yet, she was the one who he wanted to text him the most.

“Hi, honey,” she said, and her apologetic tone made T.K.’s heart sink. It’s happening again. Not even my own mom wants to see me. She’d do anything in her power to avoid me because I’m an awful son who she got stuck with.

“When is your flight coming in?” he asked, a hint of wishful thinking in his voice. I’m such a fool. I should know better than to hope. Hope only leads to heartbreak.

“About that…” her voice was sad and slow. It had been that way since 9/11, at least to T.K. She sounded more normal at work functions. It made T.K. wonder what was wrong with him. Why am I the one who my mom can’t stand?

“You’re not coming,” T.K. confirmed, and he wondered whether she didn’t want to come because of a bout of depression or because she wasn’t interested in his career.

He imagined the way she was probably biting her lip and giving him that look she always gave him as a child and she told him that he couldn’t have something that he wanted. He didn’t expect much from her anymore.

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I just have a work thing that I can’t miss.” A work thing usually didn’t mean she actually had a work thing. When she had actual work things, she was always more specific. She loved talking about her job, so when she avoided talking about it, T.K. knew that she was overcompensating for lying.

She always did this, and he let her because she was a grown woman, and he was a grown man. They both had lives of their own, and if their lives didn’t align, that’s just how it would have to be. He’d learned to deal with it, but the sting never went away. He felt it each time she rejected his attempts at having a relationship with her. He couldn’t help but think about how unfair it was that he lost his dad and that he had also lost his mother too. She used to dote on him when he was little. She cheered him on in his kindergarten play. She made him costumes for Halloween. She did everything a mom should do and more, and then she stopped doing all that. She ditched whatever mom duties she could get away with.

After 9/11, he’d spent the whole summer with his dad’s parents, and she’d barely called him. He’d cry until he was sick on those balmy nights because he missed his family, and his whole world felt unsteady. His mom said it was good for him to get out of the city for a while, but even though it had been attacked, the city still comforted T.K. Wounded or not, it was still his home, and his mom was in it, and it made T.K. terrified to not be able to see that she was okay. He followed her around for an entire month after he’d returned home. He’d cry each day when she’d go for work. When school started, he’d go to the nurse’s office and beg one of the nurses to call his mother to pick him up. Eventually, she stopped showing up, so the nurses would give him some soda and crackers until he’d calmed down enough to go back to class.

Whenever his mom went anywhere, he worried that she would never come back. Her brow would furrow as threw another fit and begged her not to go. “I have to go to work, honey,” she would say, tired and lost without Owen. “Please, don’t make a big deal of this.” But T.K. was too scared not to throw a fit. If she never left, he never had to worry about her coming back.

Maybe I exhausted her too much then. I was too clingy, and she got tired of me being around. Maybe that’s why she needs so much space.

“It’s fine.” This was all fine. He wasn’t a kid, so he didn’t need his mom there, and she’d been to plenty of shows before. It wasn’t like she was missing anything that special. But she told me that she would be there. T.K. had been looking forward to seeing her all week. They didn’t get a lot of time to talk, and he’d imagined how nice it would be to have her around for a few hours. He’d gotten his hopes up, something that he should have known better than to do because when you get your hopes up, you can only ever be disappointed.

“Are you sure? Maybe I can catch a later flight and see you after your show.”

“No, it’s okay.” He wasn’t going to make her come if she didn’t want to. “I’ll be tired, and there’s no point flying out just for one night.”

He wanted her to protest and say that it would be a bother to fly out to see him for a few hours, but he heard her sigh in relief. “We’ll get together another time.”

“Any stop on tour I can get you tickets for. I’ll pay for accommodations too.” I’d do anything in my power to get her to a show, but no amount of cajoling will sway her.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude. I know how boys your age like to go out and have fun. I wouldn’t want to ruin that.” If she knew anything, she would know that he only liked to “go out and have fun” when he wanted to forget. It wasn’t something he did for recreation. It was a need. Something he had to do to get out of his head. Before he could answer, she said, “Well, I better go.”

“Yeah, me too.” Got to go wallow a while.

“I love you.” Those words sounded different when they were an apology.

T.K. held back a sigh. “I love you too.” T.K. hung up, and he plopped back in bed. He wished he could go back to sleep and never wake up. Maybe his mom would actually show up at his funeral. Nothing draws a crowd quite like the final show.

Carlos

Carlos’ day started with his air conditioning breaking. He was woken by a huge clunk, an in his drowsy state, it took him fifteen minutes to realize that the noise had come from the vent in his living room. The air conditioning sputtered and then came to a halt. Carlos was surrounded by an uncomfortable silence. He’d gotten used to the sound of the air conditioning always being on, and the quiet had always put him on high alert because when things were too quiet, that’s when he  With his limited knowledge, he tried to get the air conditioning to work, but the couple of youtube videos he watched and the wikihow hadn’t gotten him very far.

He was sweating with the exertion of a job not done when the doorbell rang. Carlos groaned. Who is bothering me this early? His first instinct was to think T.K., but it was 9 am, and T.K. didn’t get up that early if he didn’t have to. It was a show day, though, and everything is different on show day. T.K. sometimes had too much energy to sleep in on show day. It has to be T.K., Carlos assured himself because he hadn’t had the time to make a relationship with anyone else. There’d been a one night stand when he’d first arrived for the job, but that hadn’t been satisfying, and he hadn’t had the care to hook up with any guys since. I have my hands full with protecting T.K.

Certain that it was T.K. dropping in to visit him, as T.K. did from time to time when he was bored and needed entertainment, he didn’t even look through the peephole to see who was at the door. As a former police officer and a bodyguard, he should have known better, but he was hot and tired, making it hard to think straight.

He swung the door open, “Hey,” and the sight of the willowy blonde woman in front of him nearly knocked Carlos off his feet. “Emma? What are you doing here?”

She didn’t wait for him to ask her inside. She brushed past him and sat on the couch, patting the cushion beside her like she owned the place. “We need to talk.” Emma had always been bold, and she had always expected the world to bend to her will. Until everything with Taylor happened and there was nothing she could do to make the situation better.

“It’s been a long time.” Carlos wasn’t sure why she had popped up now. There were plenty of times when he still lived in Austin that she could have come for a visit. He chose to sit in the chair next to the couch, leaving more room between him and Emma. They had never been that close. They had only ever known each other because of Taylor. Even then, they hadn’t been more than acquaintances.

“Michelle’s still looking for her sister.” Emma’s hate for Michelle was probably a big reason why she and Carlos had never become more than two people forced to spend time together.

“She’ll never stop, and you wouldn’t either if it was someone important to you who was missing.” For all her faults, Emma was loyal to the people she loved. She’d do anything for them, which was probably why she’d come all the way to LA to see Carlos. “You’re here for your brother.”

“I’ll never forgive her for dragging you into that whole thing.” Emma hadn’t been so concerned about Carlos. It was more like she had been concerned about what the Iris situation had done to Taylor because of Carlos. “That was the beginning of the end. If you’d never gotten fired—”

“Emma, stop. That’s not what happened. Things were tumultuous before that. Me getting fired didn’t make Taylor do what he did.”

“Michelle makes things worse. She pokes at the fire until it explodes.” More than that, Michelle was a healer, and she did whatever she could to help people. She could become obsessive, but so could Carlos, which was why they got along so well. They both were dedicated to get what they want and protect people from suffering.

“Don’t talk about her like that. She’s my friend, and I offered to help.” It was true that he’d offered his help only after Michelle had begged him to do something, but he had loved Iris too, so he didn’t need much convincing. He wanted to know what happened to her nearly as much as Michelle. “I would have done it for any friend who needed me.”

“She ruined your career.” His career had been ruined for reasons much more complicated than going against orders, but it wasn’t something he’d ever talked much about. What would be the point? Carlos knew that if he had been a white, straight man that his superiors would have let his transgressions slide, but he wasn’t, so one strike and he was out. They’d been glad to get rid of him. Austin was liberal, but there was still bigotry and corruption in its systems. Other officers could commit cold-blooded murder while he’d tried to find a lost life and had been punished for it.

“I was the one who investigated a case I was told to drop.” He had been a young cop, so he’d had no business acting like a detective.

“We all know it was Michelle’s idea.” Emma acted like Carlos was just a puppy who had no autonomy. I make my own decisions. I may let other people influence me, but no one can force me to do something I don’t want or something that I don’t believe in.

“That doesn’t matter,” which was true. Carlos took responsibility for his actions. He couldn’t excuse away what he’d done just because someone else had suggested it. He didn’t even regret his actions. “What are you here for Emma?”

“Taylor isn’t doing well. I want you to come to Austin and visit him. I think it would lift his spirits.”

“I think that would send the wrong message.” He wouldn’t want to get Taylor’s hopes up when he had no intention of being part of his life again.

“You’re the love of his life,” Emma looked desperate, and he felt for her, but he couldn’t help her.

“That’s exactly why it would send the wrong message because he’s not mine. Not anymore.” Carlos wasn’t sure that he ever loved Taylor as deeply as Taylor loved him. Carlos had cared for Taylor, but their relationship was unbalanced.

“You can fake it for just a little while. He’s going crazy without you.”

“He broke up with me, not the other way around,” which had allowed Carlos to get away from Texas and start bodyguarding in LA. It was a blessing in disguise, even if he didn’t consciously realize it then.

“You weren’t going to stay with him.” That was probably true, even though Carlos would never admit it. Their relationship had been too much, and it wasn’t going to survive everything else. Carlos had needed to get away from Taylor for his own sanity, so he’d been relieved when Taylor had ended it first.

“I was never given the chance.” With everything that had happened between them, there was no reason to think that they would have been able to keep going.

Emma crossed her arms and gave him a disbelieving look. “I’m not here to argue about your intentions or what might have happened. All I want is for you to talk to him. He’s been depressed.”

“Listen, Emma. I don’t want anything bad to happen to him, but I can’t be responsible for his mental health.” Not anymore. I need to protect my own mental health. I can’t save anyone by destroying myself.

“Whatever happened to your hero complex?” Emma’s voice was cold, and he knew that she was trying to get a rise out of him. She knew how Carlos was, and she knew how to put his head in a bad place. He didn’t have time for this.

“We were toxic together, Emma. Why would you want us back in the same room?” I can’t let Taylor back in. I get lost in Taylor’s bubble, and I can’t let that happen again.

“Because I want Taylor to stay alive. I’m worried what he’s going to do to himself.”

“He’s in jail. There’s not much I can do to help him.”

“It’s your fault that he’s in there.” As much as Carlos knew that Taylor’s actions weren’t his fault, he still felt guilty about everything that happened. He wondered if he made different choices that things might’ve been different. I couldn’t help Taylor when he needed me the most. I let him down, and the damage that has been done can never be erased.

“He got himself there. I had nothing to do with it,” but the anxious, doubtful feeling in Carlos’ chest made him wonder if he was only fooling himself. Even when he’d said his goodbyes to Emma and ushered her away from his life, he knew that his bad mood wouldn’t lift easily.

T.K.

The feeling of disappointment and rejection lingered as he went about his day, and he knew that he needed to snap out of it because he wasn’t going to be able to perform if he had a rain cloud over his head for the whole damn show. He’d been resisting the temptation since the morning. He’d done pretty well, reminding himself that he needed to keep his shit together, but the more he tried to avoid doing something stupid, the more he imagined doing that stupid thing. The only way to stop thinking about doing drugs was to do drugs. I don’t want to have to think anymore.

It was only 3 pm, but he knew that he wasn’t going to get through this day without a little something extra. If he took something now, he’d be okay for his show at seven. Mellower. Happier. Hopefully. He’d be able to stop thinking so much about how he was unloved by and unimportant to his own mother and anyone else who has had the displeasure of knowing me. The only people who like me are the ones who don’t know that much about me. My fans think I’m great, but they don’t know that I only ever ruin things. The world would be better off with me in it, but here I am. Still here. Still suffering. Still a fuck up.

Before he could think better of it, he swallowed an upper, as covertly as he could, because he’d sworn off narcotics. At least for a while. He’d been pretty good about being sober, facing the world with a clarity that made him feel like he was a ball bouncing two inches from a cliff. Most of the time, but sometimes he just couldn’t stand it. His body itched to be filled. When it came to oxy, it was more than just a psychological itch. It was a physical need. It made him sick to not have it, which was why he was trying to replace with the party drugs that didn’t leave him feeling like shit when he didn’t have them. Nothing was as good as oxy, though, but E was pretty good. It was something, and it would keep his brain from spiraling too much. I really want an oxy. What if I just have one? One was one too many, he knew. If he gave in, he’d keep giving in. He had some control of himself with the stimulants, at least he liked to think that he did, but when it came to oxycodone, he had no resistance.

The restless feeling in the pit of T.K.’s stomach didn’t go away right away, but as the drug hit his bloodstream, his brain started to feel like cotton balls. I need to find Carlos and tell him how good I feel right now. He wanted to share his happiness. Because I like Carlos so much. I want to be someone who he could like back, but that’s not who I am. Too much has happened for me to be anything more than a nuisance. I’m awful, but he’s still so good to me. He treats me with dignity even if I don’t deserve it. He has such a nice smile too. He’s handsome. He’s strong. He’s brave. He’d make a really good hero. If only he could save me.

It took him fifteen minutes to find Carlos around the venue. T.K. had searched everywhere, and there weren’t a lot of places that Carlos could be, but T.K. kept getting distracted. His thoughts were fragmented, but he was too high to care. When he finally saw Carlos, he felt accomplished, and when Carlos saw T.K., he grinned. T.K. beamed back, feeling so happy to be the object of Carlos’ attention, even if just for a moment. I never want him to look away. T.K. had feelings for Carlos that he would never address when he was sober.

T.K. couldn’t help but throw his arm around Carlos’ shoulder. I want to be close to him. I don’t feel close to people often. The feel of Carlos’ sturdy body under T.K.’s arm made T.K. forget all the gapping distance in his life. “You’re so nice, Carlos. You always make sure I’m okay, and you make me laugh when everything seems unfunny.” I love him so much. “I never have to worry when I’m near you. I always hate it when you go away. I hate it when anyone goes away.”

“What are you talking about?” Carlos said distractedly, paying closer attention to the security briefing he was reading than T.K. He didn’t notice the glossiness in T.K.’s eyes or how he was clearly having a mental breakdown muted by a pill that made everything feel good even though life was so gray. Maybe it’s better that way.

“I just really like you because you don’t act like I’m the gum on the bottom of your shoe. I’m, like, the gum in your mouth. You know, a fresh piece of gum that you actually enjoy. Not the gum after an hour when it tastes like nothing and makes your jaw hurt. You make me feel like the five seconds of delight you get from bubblegum.” It was as close to a love confession as T.K. could come. He didn’t even know if what he was feeling was love or admiration. Whatever it was, he didn’t want Carlos to leave him. He’d be devastated when he did because he will. Sooner or later everyone leaves.

Carlos looked up, seeming concerned, and T.K. shrunk in on himself. Maybe he can look away just this once. I don’t want him to see me like this— high, crazy, broken. T.K. felt a sudden pang of shame. He wished he could vanish and take back the words that he’d said to Carlos. They’re too honest. Too insane. I shouldn’t fall in love, or admiration, so fast. I barely know anything about him other than that he’s nice to me. It’s pathetic to love someone just because they don’t treat you like shit.

Carlos

Carlos narrowed his eyes, looking T.K. over, and now that he was paying attention, he could tell that something was very wrong, and it made him sick to think that T.K. was not okay. This is not good. T.K. is not okay. He has a show tonight, and I should have noticed that something was off sooner. It’s my job to protect him, and I can’t do that when he’s so set on hurting himself. “You’re high,” Carlos stated. There was no questioning or doubt in his tone. This was not what Carlos wanted to deal with when he came to work. He was already reeling from his visit with Emma, and now T.K. was on a path of self-destruction, and Carlos didn’t know how to deal with it. How am I supposed to help him? How do I keep him safe from himself?

“I’m not,” T.K. refuted, and his voice sounded weak. “Please, Carlos, you have to believe me. I know I’m acting weird but…” he trailed off, excuses failing to be fabricated. I knew he wasn’t going to get better overnight. This shouldn’t have caught me off guard. I should be better prepared for this. I should know what to say, but I don’t. I just want to shake him and hope that sense settles into his brain and slaughters all the mental illness. That’s not how it works, though. I am powerless. All I can do is stand here and hope that he’s okay. Just like I did with Taylor. I couldn’t control Taylor just like I can’t control T.K. If it were any other client other than T.K., Carlos wouldn’t have felt so strongly. T.K. hit all the right buttons that made Carlos want to shield him from all bad things in the world. I have feelings for him, unprofessional ones, and I’m worried that I have them because of Taylor. T.K.’s so different from Taylor, but he’s just the same in all the wrong ways.

“Don’t lie to me,” Carlos shouted. T.K. bit his lip, and Carlos could see the hesitance on his face. “Lying to me is only going to make me angrier,” and Carlos knew that he needed to hold in his temper. He could feel all the feelings of this day bubbling up and threatening to burst from his body in a slimy, filthy goo of past and present worries culminating into one nasty monster. He tried to keep his tone down, but he was being as loud as he could be without drawing attention to them. He needed T.K. to know that this situation was serious. It wasn’t something Carlos was going to ignore the next day when T.K. had sobered up and was acting normal again.

“Fine, I am. I’m high. What’s it to you? You’re my bodyguard. Not my mom or even my manager.” I care, dumbass, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t form those words on his tongue between all the anxiety and fear that were forming words of their own.

“Why can’t you get it through your thick skull that I am here to keep you safe, and if you’re high, I can’t do that. You making it impossible to do my job, T.K. I didn’t sign up to care what you do in your personal life, but I am getting paid to keep you safe. If you’re going to mess up your life, at least do it on your own time, and don’t drag me into it. I like this job, and I want to keep it.” I like you, and I want to keep you.

T.K. froze, looking startled, and he looked like he was going to try to return a nasty remark, but his mouth opened, and then it closed again. I’m such a jerk. T.K. looked like he might cry, and Carlos couldn’t blame him. Carlos had long ago trained himself not to cry when the hot bubbles of sadness, fear, and frustration pricked at his eyes, but when he was alone, he cried a lot, letting the feeling vacate his body like soda from a shaken bottle.

Carlos couldn’t take the silence so he continued on his tirade. “You have so many people rooting for you, but then you go and do things like this. You can’t keep doing the same old things and expect that the people around you aren’t going to be impacted. You’re entitled to your feelings, but everyone else has feelings too, and you never seem to consider those.”

“That’s not how it is,” T.K. tried to argue, but Carlos was already fired up, and he couldn’t be reasoned with.

“It is, T.K. You hurt other people with your actions, and I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, but you’re unhappy, and you’re dragging everyone down with you. I don’t want to be unhappy.” I’ve worked too hard to get away from my unhappiness to go back.

T.K.

“Stop yelling at me,” T.K. said because he couldn’t take the way Carlos’ words made him feel. Every insecurity T.K. had about being too selfish, too needy, and a waste of space was amping up, and the cloudy happiness of his high was clearing with Carlos’ words, but he was still high enough that the pain of what Carlos was saying wouldn’t strike him until later when his show was over and he had time to think without the assistance of Ecstasy. When he sobered up, Carlos’ words would hurt more than T.K. would ever admit. I must pretend like things don’t hurt because denial is a substance nearly as strong as a pill.

“You’re fucking up your life. You have a show, and you can’t just go around popping pills when you have a job to do.” I’m just a job to him. I am the gum on the bottom of his shoe, after all. I’m the unsatisfying bubble gum that has lost all its flavor. I can’t believe I thought he might care. He’s no different than anyone else. He doesn’t know me. He just follows me around and sees most of my life, but he doesn’t care to look at me more than he has to. I’m just a junkie who is useless and ruins everyone’s life.

“Not for like three and a half hours,” which was a bad excuse considering that once T.K. took a drug, his whole day was set up to be unproductive. He couldn’t get his head screwed back on once he went down the addiction rabbit hole.

“You need to stop this shit.” T.K. hated being lectured. The person who had a right to lecture him was dead, and he didn’t want to care about what anyone else thought. Still caught up on my dead dad.

“It’s not that easy.” Trying to be sober was one of the hardest things that T.K. had ever done. It wasn’t like he could just decide to stop and be done with it. It took time and too much effort. Being mentally healthy required the energy that being mentally ill had taken.

Carlos’ face softened. “I know it’s not, but you still need to try. You can’t keep acting like you’re invincible. This could kill you.” T.K. logically knew that Carlos’ hard words were because he was worried, but that didn’t stop the thoughts of inadequacy from clumping in his head like a blood clot.

“I know that.”

“But you don’t take this seriously.” He couldn’t take anything too seriously without having to do self-analysis that he wasn’t ready to do.

“I do. I went to the therapist that you and Judd wanted me to see.” That was technically a lie, but Carlos doesn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, but are you putting the work in, T.K.? Are you trying to do better? Or are you going through the motions?”

“This is my first relapse. It’s not even oxy. There’s no need to freak out.”

Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I wanted to, but I didn’t.”

“What did you take?” T.K. didn’t see how it mattered because it’s not like he could do anything about it now.

“Who cares?” No one should. There’s no reason to care about someone like me.

Carlos gritted his teeth. “I care.” It made him feel like a loser, but hearing the words, “I care,” did something to T.K. It melted some of the rage and stubbornness he was feeling, and it made him want to confess everything to Carlos. To be vulnerable. But only for a second.

“Ecstasy.” He hadn’t premeditated taking it, but he had kept a stash of it just in case. So, maybe it had been more planned than I realized.

“That isn’t good for you either.” That’s the whole point! I like destruction. I like being wasted. I like wasting my life. Maybe my misery will end sooner this way.

“I don’t fucking care.” I care, but I can’t let myself care. Caring only brings pain, and I’ve had enough pain in my life. People have had it worse than me without ruining their lives, and I can’t understand how they do it. I’m not strong enough to be like them. I’m weak, and I’m a loser charading to the world as someone who matters. But I don’t matter, and no matter how many hit songs I have, I never will because no one will ever know the real me.

T.K. felt a surge of rage fill him, and he didn’t know what to do with it. It was going to consume him, and before he could think better of it, T.K. punched the wall, and with the drugs, he didn’t feel the strong as much as he might've, but he could see spots of blood on his knuckles where the skin had been peeled off. Carlos’ eyes grew wide, and without saying anything, he dragged T.K. into the bathroom and sat him down on the closed toilet seat.

Carlos

The day had gone from annoying to horrendous, and it seemed to keep getting worse. I shouldn’t have yelled at him. I’m such an asshole. He’s an addict. I can’t expect that he’ll get instantly better. I know how addiction works, and I know how hard it can be to stop using a substance. Carlos hated seeing T.K. go through this. It never got easier to see someone important to you struggling.“Are you okay?”

Carlos exhaled. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have blown up at you.”

“It’s not,” T.K. refuted. “I took drugs before you yelled at me, so pretty sure it’s my fault.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have taken my feelings out on you. I had a hard morning.” He felt like the worst person alive for yelling at T.K. Carlos knew that the drug use wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it could have been avoided if he had been more careful with his words. He should have sensed that T.K. was spiraling before it had gotten to the point that it had, but he had been so caught up in his own shit that he’d not done his job. I need to start acting more like a professional. I should have never lashed out at a client. I’d resign if I didn’t think that T.K. would drive any other bodyguard away. He needs me here, and I need him to be alive.

“Are you okay?” Carlos looked exhausted, he knew, but everyone who was part of the tour got exhausted. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, dude.”

Carlos ran a comforting hand through T.K.’s hair, but he quickly pulled it away because it didn’t make him feel like he was just T.K’s friend. “I’m okay.” He’d been having a lot of nightmares lately, but it wouldn’t be professional to say so. Like any of this is professional anymore. I’ve crossed so many lines. I’ve gotten too close. I’m compromised, but I can’t walk away. “I’m more worried about what happened with you today. Do you need to talk about your relapse.”

T.K. shook his head, looking down at his hands instead of Carlos. “No. I’d rather not talk about that.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“You already apologized. What I did wasn’t because of you. I was having a bad day, so wasn’t something you did to set me off. That was the final straw I guess.”

“I’m just saying that you shouldn’t, like, feel guilty about it or anything, and you can’t treat me like glass just because I might slip up.”

“I’ll do better T.K.”

“I’m an addict. You don’t need to do better. I need to do better.”

“Okay,” Carlos said, and he didn’t look convinced.

“You know that moment when you take a bath and dip your head underwater and the world is muted. You still hear sound, but it’s so distant that you can detach it from yourself, and in that moment, it feels like you can finally breathe, but obviously, if you stayed under there, you’d drown. So, you come back up only to crave wanting to be in the water again, even if it kills you.” Carlos didn’t know that feeling, not that exact one, but he knew what it felt like to have your head dipping underwater and bobbing back up when you never know when you’ll be able to breathe and when you’ll have to hold your breath. That feeling lingered. It followed him no matter where he went, and it could be suffocating, but it was never life-threatening.

Carlos nodded sympathetically, “Sometimes drowning feels like a noble pursuit rather than a death mission.”

T.K. sighed. “Yeah, and sometimes a death mission feels like a noble pursuit.”

[louadorable126]

Demons(you).me: Chapter 9 - Schrödinger's Eva

Artwork Commissioned from Aya/Itouyas on twitter! Please check her out! <3

>>Click here to read on Ao3!<<

Summary:

In a city controlled by the generally altered race of Demons, Lady’s life as a mercenary on the lower floor was never easy. Especially when she ran into Dante. A demon on the hunt for his missing brother.

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Fandom: Devil May Cry

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Characters: Vergil, Lady, Dante

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Chapter 9:

At the loud clunk of a bottle rolling out the bottom of a vending machine, Dante mindlessly squatted down and reached a hand under the dark flap.

The glass was ice cold to the touch beneath his fingertips; wet too - dripping with water droplets that uncomfortably ran down his hand. Water condensing under the warmth of his flesh. Just what he needed right now. A good kick to the senses.

God, he felt so numb.

The walk here had done little too soothe him. No, it had just given him more time to think, when he just wanted to do the exact opposite. It had been a constant battle of trying to keep his mind empty, free of any stray thought, while also trying not to get run over by cars. Something that turned out to be pretty damn hard!

Dante pushed himself back up off the ground, using the colourful vending machine as a support. He didn’t even attempt to find a bottle opener. Instead opting to just rip the mettle topper off with his bare hands. Bottle plugged to his mouth in his next breath and letting the freezing liquid pour into his system. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. It kept coming; as he chugged, chugged and chugged, until his body could take no more - practically on the verge of asphyxiation when his lips finally left the bottle.

“Fuck, that was good!” He coughed out, voice raspy. Falling back against the vending machine with a thump. The young man allowed himself a few moments to breath, before glancing back at the bottle. He’d managed to down at least 3/4’s of the bottle in one foul swoop. He had to smile a little at that, a new record for him. Might as well finish you off then, shouldn’t I?

And so he did. This time thankfully not almost suffocating himself.

Done with the bottle, he dumped into into a nearby, green ringed recycling hole beside the machine. Lighting up happily when he did so, as he moved to order another beer from the vending machine’s display.

"Attention all travellers! Due to a on-going police incident, all trains from 11pm onwards have been cancelled, as this floor will be placed under immediate lockdown for the foreseeable future. It is advised travellers either find suitable residence for the night, or board any of the remaining trains currently platformed. Thank you for your patience. Glory be to our Emperor!”

The peppy tannoy announcement quickly faded away, soon replaced by the starting of a tacky hip-hop beat in its place leaking out of the small rooms speakers. Dante sighed and shook his head at the announcement. Walking over to a small steel counter and bar stool by the large glass window, new bottle in hand.

It made sense they’d be closing off the area. Although Dante hadn’t exactly counted on them being so quick about it. The police were far less efficient than his people were at dealing with stuff. Although, murdering a bunch of people right next to some of the wealthiest of humans in the city, probably send a rocket up the arse of much the bureaucracy that normally held them back.

Must’ve been quiet the pandemonium back at the party . All those corporate folks clutching their pearls and fainting... W hat I would have given to seen that! Dante chuckled to himself at the thought. Taking another swing of his beer. Guess those poor guys down there will work for now.

Blue eyes focused down on the hectic platform bellow. The last stragglers of the floor’s night-life battled each-other over the nearby ticket hurdles in a mad crush. Although there was a particularly amusing group of what looked to be a dozen bachelors, bent over backwards forming a makeshift stairwell over the tall barrier for their groom to walk up. It obviously failed of course. The guy lost his balance and ended up going crashing to the ground on top of his friends, but they all seemed to be having a laugh at least.

The platform itself was no better. People sprinted down towards the trains like they were getting onto the last life-boats of the titanic. Cramming tight into the trains like fish in sardine cans. Clearly he wasn’t going to be sitting on the way back it seemed. Great.

For what should have felt like a clean victory tonight, really was starting to feel like the complete opposite. Yeah, their big family secret was now as good as dead and buried now (if Augustus was holding up his end of the bargain), and they could return back home finally. But, what would even be awaiting them there now when this adventure was over? Lady sure wouldn’t. She’d be stuck back down here. Where they could only - what? Visit her whenever they were given a new assignment? Ugh, Dante wasn’t even starting to miss them. How much pleasure had he gotten from being able to do his own thing down here? It was amazing feeling, not having every mission strictly chosen for him by mother dispatch’s hand-

Don’t think about that! A voice snapped in the back of his mind like a metal slap. His body jolted in sharp response, as the alabaster hand around his glass tightened. Just don’t.

Dante took a shaky sip of his icy drink. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he attempted to purge his mind of the thought once more.

But the beer did little to help, its chill expertly focusing his mind onto that exact topic, onto her alone.

What was Trish? Please stop . Clearly not Eva in terms personality that’s for sure. They couldn’t be more different. There… there just wasn’t the same flame there that Eva had always had. That’s the best way Dante could think to describe it. Eva always felt warm in a homey way, while Trish felt like the violent tinders setting the whole place alight. Stop It!  

Granted, he couldn’t lie that he didn’t find that quality rather admirable. But the uncanny valley was just far too strong for his own liking. Heh, maybe that’s the same feeling people get when they meet him and Verge for the first time. Two people who look completely alike, but are so wildly different from one another it.  Fuck, maybe Trish is just a long lost twin of Eva’s who’d just happened to be converted into a demon at some point? Fucking absurd idea, he knew. But given how many recent revolutions about his family had come to light in the past few weeks. How much did he truly know about his family, anymore? For all he could know, twins really could just run in the family-

He was just kidding himself wasn’t he? Dante could already imagine Vergil disapproving remarks over how ridiculous such an insane idea was. And he knew damn well phantom Vergil wasn’t wrong. He knew the most likely answer. You’re going to regret this you idiot! Stop thinking now! He always had.

The only other thing Trish could most likely be was…

Eva herself.

Ground up and converted into one of his own kind.

There was no other obvious (and realistic) way why Trish would look so much like her. And in a twisted way, the idea just worked, from the moment it clicked in his mind! What would be a more fitting punishment for her and Sparda, for having half-human offspring like him and Vergil, than making Eva into a demon against her will?

A twisted, cruel smirk pulled at Dante’s lips. This was all his fault wasn’t it? He should’ve been there to protect her. He never should have gone looking for Vergil. He should’ve payed closer attention to him instead of brushing his strange behaviour off, stopped him before he went on his murder tour of the city’s databanks in the first place. He was such a awful brother and son to the both of them, wasn’t he?

"Attention travellers! 5 minutes remain until the last train departs!”

Despairing, Dante went to go take another sip from his bottle. Yet only a drop of the bitter drink landed on his tongue. He lifted the bottle up into the air, and lazily tipped it upside down. Squinting a little, gazing up into its small hole, only to depressingly find nothing there…

Maybe he was taking this self-deprecating train of thought too far though? There was nothing concrete about that conclusion. He was just going off yet another assumption wasn’t he?

For one, Trish didn’t have the trademark bleach white hair they all had. Heh, another blindingly obvious deduction there Detective Dante! He thought, a weak smirk just tugging at his lips. It...wasn’t a great case for Eva not being converted the more he thought about it though. She clearly had the tech of a demon, being able to summon those swords at will and all, and as Vergil had demonstrated tonight, she could’ve just dyed it blond. Perhaps it was a faint memory of Eva slipping through. But no, even that didn’t seem quite right...

He’d run into a few newly converted demons in his time, and while disoriented, they seemed to be able to completely recall their old lives with no trouble. Yet Trish had no memory of either of them - not even the basic motherly sixth sense that Eva always seemed to have, still lurking in there at all. So Eva's memory being wiped (did they even have that tech?) seemed out of the question. And what about the rucks that would’ve been caused upon the discovery that a human woman had been living on the upper floor for like what? 20 years under the demonic authorities noses? That would’ve been all over the news without question! Yet they hadn’t heard a peep of anything like that…

“Attention travellers! 2 minutes remain until the last train departs!"

So Eva could be safe, but she also be long gone. What a wonderful fucking paradox!

Dante rubbed a hand across his tired eyes, his fingertips glazing over the warm sweat covering his brow. He got up from the stool, nursing the empty beer bottle to his chest; somewhat amazed it wasn’t shattering beneath his firm hold. He really needed to get going. No matter how much the anxious twist of his gut, or dizzy, alcohol-fogged mind begged him to do anything but sit his ass back down.

Shakes racked his body, as he stumbled out of the small room and headed towards the escalator back down.

“Attention travellers! The last train will be departing in 1 minute!"

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