#if u like 'watch for rolling rocks' i think u will like this channel and u should binge all the videos tbh

[kaiasky]

WAKE UP NEW SUCKERPINCH TOM7 VIDEO DROPPED

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

HIIIII OMGGGG, i hope you have a great day today!!! i really loved your fuego x f s/o who's half human and half sea fae. i saw ur requests open, so if i may..... have a similar request for... nozel? hehe thank u so much!!💞

Hello! Oh I'm so happy to hear that you liked it! ^^ Thank you for the patience! I hope you like it!

Pairing: Nozel x f!reader Genre: Fluff/general Length: ~1.0k Contains: maybe some angst in the beginning?, I think it's just Nozel being Nozel, mentions of reader being married to Nozel, a mysterious meeting, reader is a sea fae Casually tagging: @koneko-pi @kalolasfantasyworld

Nozel had ... conflicting emotions about the sea. The ocean. Large bodies of water.

Partly he disliked them. The cold and the damp. If it was that time of the year. Or the scorching summer sun. But mostly, it was about how the ocean seemed to look infinite. Like it just went on and on and on... past the horizon.

The ocean seemed to never end.

And maybe that was the other part. Why he only partly disliked them. Because when he was there, it felt like there was something in which he could drown all his emotions.

...

He could remember being still a young man, or a boy, depending on how one looks at it and throwing stones into the ocean. Why he had been doing so, he couldn’t tell. Why do people throw stones into water in the first place? Why does anyone do that? Try and see how many skips they might make? How big of a splash it’d make?

It’s utter nonsense, but... still people do that.

But if he had to reason it somehow, he thought that maybe it was a way of channelling all the emotions he held into something. Let it be just throwing rocks into the ocean. Because if it was dry land, the stones could be seen.

That wasn’t the case under the surface of the water. Nothing could be seen, and he could throw as many rocks as he possibly liked. At least in his youth, the few times when they were by the sea.

And once he had grown up, the trips were more scarce.

A lot of duties to fill. Things to do. And do forth. Just not enough time to go there anymore. Or so he told himself. That he had grown out of the days, during which he’d throw stones into the ocean and try to control his emotions.

But... he couldn’t remember why he had been there, on that day. Why he had decided to go by the sea again. It wasn’t a mission, he was sure about that. At least not an official one. He just... had had this feeling, longing, to go back and just watch the waves rolling by. Even if it was autumn. And cloudy. Bleak and dull.

Harly a beach weather.

Yet... he has seen you, walking by the water, on the shore, and just... looking at the raging waves.

There had been something about it that he couldn’t explain. Like you belonged there, and didn’t. And eerie feeling of a kind.

He couldn’t remember how it had been that the two of you had gotten talking to either. Maybe it was something about the weather. How you were there at an awfully unusual weather and time. Which could be said about him as well.

A somewhat cocky remark from you.

At least that’s how he had felt, back then.

Or then maybe he had just gotten used to it over the years.

But... he wouldn’t have it any other way because... he knew that his wife was the personification of the ocean. Deep. Beautiful. Mysterious. Profound... A force to be reckoned with.

He knew from the very first moment that he saw you, that there was something... strange, otherworldly, about you. Only that he hadn’t been able to place it. Because... it had only been a glimmer in the corner of your eye. A twinkle. Maybe the way your skin had glittered... Or then it was just his imagination. H

He wasn’t sure, not even now. Because while you were his wife, his spouse, he... there depths to you that he had deemed to be... impossible for him to comprehend.

Not because you wouldn’t answer. Not because you wouldn’t try to explain, but because... the two of you came from two very different worlds. And that was how it was. Just as simple. That was just how it was...

And yet... he couldn’t imagine anything else.

A beautiful, sacred, goddess from the depths of the ocean. One that swayed with the sea, and who was divine and gorgeous and strong and beautiful.

You were like water.

In the best way that water can be.

And while had installed a large pool in the garden. Not that many people could fathom why.

“For swimming.” He had simply explained and that had been that.

After all, you walked on land. With your own two feet. And gave them an expression that explained nothing. There was nothing for them to suspect. Just a quirk. Another hobby for the nobles. Outdoor swimming.

Hell. There were stranger hobbies out there.

Some fresh air and a swim? Practically normal.

But only the two of you knew. About the pearls. About the magic that only you could provide.

The strength that wasn’t fire and flame; an explosion. But the constant, secure swaying of the sea. Something that didn’t need to prove anything. Because the ocean, with all the lives it had claimed, new better. That it was a force to be reckoned with.

After marrying you, he knew, better than most, why the ocean had been worshipped. Because it was genuine and honest, but still, it gave. It was a source of life.

And to him, you were a source of life. Life to his soul.

So, whenever he stood by you at seaside. He was happy. He was happy because of your happiness. Because he imagined that it was there that you felt the most belonging. Like that was your home, more than the castle.

While you were trying to tell him that since you were life water... you would find a home anywhere. As long as he was with you, because.. out of all the people you had met, he was the first to match your strength. The swaying and the mystery. The depths that were nothing but skin deep.

He was as much of an ocean as you were. Someone who’d reveal his emotions, his very soul, to only those he trusts. Perhaps that was why you had been drawn to each other.

Your meeting at that beach, was a pint where two oceans met.

[bitchylandtyphoon]

Sugar on Honey🍯

A/N: Hellooo I hope you guys are doing great I just wanted to try writing a Jim Hopper fic since I barely see any like come on he's so fine and ugh. Ahem anyways pls enjoy the story if u have any recommendations feel free to comment! If u have a request feel free to send a message to me! I'm still new to Tumblr so I'm not really sure how to work any of this sorry about that! ------------------------------------❈---------------------------------------- Hopper didn’t understand how you were so calm with Eleven. He tried, he really did. He took care of Eleven as if he was her own but he couldn't be as gentle and soft as you were. “This is an apple ok? It's red, sweet and a fruit. This is a cucumber, it's green and a vegetable!” Hopper watched as you taught Eleven basic English. “Ok, now you try” You hold up a bunch of grapes. “These are...grapes, sweet, blue and...fruit?” Eleven guessed while squinting hard at the grapes. “Heyyyy not bad! You're doing great, you just mixed up purple with blue but no biggie. Do you wanna do another one?” You said encouragingly. Eleven nods and proceeds to pick another product to investigate. “Oooh~ Hopper watches as you two laugh and learn, he couldn't stop himself from smiling, he appreciated what you were doing especially since Eleven was on house arrest. You were the only one he could trust. He absentmindedly takes a sip of his dark coffee hissing as it was too hot to drink. “You ok?” Hopper looks up to see you looking at him with a worried expression on your face. He loved that face, it was pretty cute. He chuckled “Ye, just too hot to drink” “Be careful before you burn your tongue off for good” You start cleaning the food off of the ground. “Yeah yeah, I won't mom” Hopper jokes as he goes into the kitchen. “Very funny Hopper haha” You give a playful glare “What is so funny? Ha...ha?” Eleven asks, seeing you two joking around not understanding the sarcasm. “Oh it's just sarcasm honey, try finding it in the dictionary, you'll find the meaning there.” You give a gentle smile while pointing to the thick book. “Well, there you go word of the day.” Hopper comes back into the hall sitting in the big chair stirring his spoon in the white coffee-stained mug. You wondered how much coffee he really drinks in a day. “S-A-R-C-A-S-M? the use of i- irony to m-mock or con-convey contempt?” Eleven read trying to read the words correctly. She looked at you for guidance and approval. “Good job kid, you’re doing so well, I need to go now, be a good girl for me ok?” you kissed her crown and gave a hug feeling her arms slowly wrapping around your bottom. “Bye-bye now~” “Bye (Y/N)” Eleven gave a small shy smile as she watched you look for your coat. “Here you go, make sure to zip up” Hopper gives you your coat helping you put it on. “Mm thanks, Hopper” “You want a ride?” Hopper suggests side-eyeing you while he refills his coffee. “I think ill manage, il call if anything happens” “Nope nope it's freezing, not letting you go out alone especially when it's night,” He says sternly as he puts on his coat and boots grabbing his keys on the way to the door “I'll be fine-” “Come on, let's go” You sigh “Ok fine” You trudge to his truck knowing he wouldn't let you win the argument. Giving a small wave to Eleven through the window. You pull his hand stopping him from going too close to the truck. “What, what's wrong, did you forget something?” Hopper asked “No you did” Hopper gives you a confused look “Eleven” “What about her?” “You didn't tell her bye” You take your hand backcrossing it against your chest as you look at the chief disappointed. Hopper sighs and goes back to the house, you watch as he tells Eleven bye” “Happy?” He says with his arms out as he walks towards you. “Depends,” You say as you open the truck door. You wait until he starts the car and starts moving out of the parking area. “What did you tell her?” “What?” “What did you tell her?” “I told her to keep the doors locked, not go out, keep windows and curtains closed-” “Hopperrr” You interrupt him,

sighing with your head down “What have I told you, give be gentle with her. She’s smart and strong, she can handle herself if anything happens. All you have to do is give her a simple bye and a hug” You put a hand on his leg “I know you're trying Jim, I really do know that. I've seen some progress and I'm really happy for both of you. Don’t be so harsh on her ok? She’s just a kid” Hopper sighs calming under your touch. “I know, I know I just. I feel like if I don't be hard on her, she’ll run away, get in some serious trouble and go meet her boyfriend.” Hopper rolls his eyes thinking of Eleven and MIke together. “Well if I was on house arrest and a teenager I would've run away to see my boyfriend too,” You say taking your hand off of his leg. “No you wouldn’t, you wouldn't even go out to the park, you were too much of a wuss,” He says as he looks for something in his coat. You dramatically gasp “Ok first of all, you're right, I would've never run away. Second, I have strict parents and you know that. Third I am not a wuss I just like staying home,” you sigh “who am I kidding I hated going out and being around people, especially with those dumb kids running around” You shake your head thinking of how introverted you were as a kid. Hopper laughs, throwing his head back watching you jokingly pout at him. He takes a cigarette out of his right pocket. “Well you were always the kid in the back of the room, quiet and shy, never understood how you could keep your mouth shut for so long” You grab the cigarette out of his mouth throwing it away somewhere in the car making him give you a glare “You know how my parents are, “be quiet,” “be good,'' “do good in school”, “no boys”” You say, quoting your parents' famous words. “Well at least they raised a good person,” He said, giving a genuine compliment your way. “Hah, that was all my doing” Frowning remembering how horrible your parents were at raising a child. You saw Hopper turning the radio on. You knew what he was doing but you weren't going to stop him at all. He turned it to the classic rock channel starting to sing and rock his head. Ah, how you loved him. Hey hey baby when you walk that way, Watch your honey drip, can't keep away Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh, ah, ahOh yeah, oh yeah, oh, ah, ah. “Here comes Jim Hopper, everyone missing members of Led Zeppelin'' You say as if there's a crowd. I gotta roll, can't stand still Got a flamin' heart, can't get my fill You laugh at how amusing he sounds, he's not half bad for the chief of police. Eyes that shine, burnin' red Dreams of you all through my head You throw your head back clutching your stomach, you just couldn't stop laughing. “Come on singggg, I know you know this one” Hopper says encouraging you to sing. “Noooo, are you crazy?!” You yell at him “Come onnnn” He pushes you You roll your eyes as he starts singing again. Hey, baby, oh baby, pretty baby Move me like you're doin' now- “Who knew the kitten could sing huh?” Hopper looks at you while you start singing with a big smile.

Didn't take too long 'fore I found out What people mean by down and out

Spent my money, took my car Started tellin' her friends she gonna be a star~ ------------------------------------❈---------------------------------------- “Thanks for the ride, really appreciate it Jim. Goodnight. Make sure to get some rest ok?” You say as you close the door “Yeah yeah mom, I get it” You give him a glare through the window door. Giving him a wave you turn around to your place. “Hold on!” You hear Hopper's voice shout behind you. Stopping in your tracks you turn around to see Hopper speed walking towards trying not to slip from the thick snow on the ground. The night was so beautiful, the snow was thick and flowing down like paper, it wasn't too cold but just cold enough to make the tip of your nose red. The street lights were on looking like yellow stars in the dark blue sky. It was perfect. “You forgot your bag,” He said, giving it to you. “Oh? OH thank you” you said, giving him a thankful smile while reaching for the bag. “It's fine, it's not like I'm gonna steal it now” Hopper chuckles putting his hands in his coat pockets. “Well, why would anyone steal a gift they gave to someone else?” You said giggling as you put the bag on. He grins “It looks good on you by the way, really suits you” “Oh, thanks” You blush at the comment while brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I was just thinking, you don't have to if you want, but I just wanted to ask you if u wanted to go on a date? I was thinking of a restaurant but only if u wanted to go there, we can go somewhere else, really up to you," he sighed "I'm gonna shut up now, have a goodnight” Hopper turned on his heel and started leaving but felt a tug on his coat. “I would love to go on a date with you Jim,” You said, giving him a gentle smile. You stood up on your tiptoes giving him a peck on the cheek. It felt different because of the stubble but you liked it. The butterflies in both of your stomachs were going crazy, fluttering around as if they were being chased by a bird. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace but fell back down due to the height difference.

“6 pm Friday at Johnnie's?” “I would love that, casual dress code?” “Why would we need a dress code?” He joked “Hoppperr” You hit his chest distancing yourself heading to your house. You stood on the porch seeing him waiting for you to go in your house safely. You lean against your doorway. “Goodnight Jim” God he loved it when you called him by Jim, it was like sugar on honey. “Goodnight kitten” You smiled at the nickname.

Heading inside you close the door, leaning against it. “EEEEEEEEEEE he actually asked me out, oh my god” You laugh at how excited you were acting. You couldn't wait. --------------------------------------❈-------------------------------------- Hopper headed to his truck getting in and turning the radio on. “Good job Hop, good job” He chuckled as he drove off. He couldn't wait.

[1kook]

skirt chasers - drabble iii

this a skirt chasers drabble in case u couldn't tell uhhh here’s i and ii lol

summary; “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?” warnings; alcohol mention, tit sucking, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, uhh making out??? ratings; mature (18+) misc; educational abolitionist!jungkook, drunk jk, mentions of throwing up lol, jk is an anatomy frEAK, more skirts, more jk has questionable kinks wc; like barely 2k

notes; i wrote this in like 40 mins bc i couldn't stop thinking about STIMBO jk from skirt chasers and how cool he is enjoy xxxx also i barely rmr shit from anatomy bc it was the worst course of my life so pls bear with me

His first mistake is getting drinks with the boys. You like to think you know your boyfriend pretty well, know what he’s good at, where he excels, where he thrives, and well. Drinking doesn’t rank too high on the list.

Jimin calls a little past midnight. “Kook’s on the table,” he slurs into the phone, too loud and too sloppy for a Wednesday night phonecall.

“Ha?” you mumble back, rubbing your eyes until you see stars. The room is dark, practically spinning from how out of it you are. Chaeyoung is dead asleep in her room, so even whispering feels like a crime. “Where are you guys?”

Some bar on the south side of town, that strip where all the newly turned twenty-one year olds go to get wasted. Jungkook’s supposed to be studying for some big exam he has on Friday— at least, that’s what he told you —so it takes a few minutes of convincing on Jimin’s part until you’re shrugging your coat on, blindly navigating through your apartment for your keys and wallet. You briefly consider taking an Uber, but ultimately decide you’d rather get stabbed to death on a public bus so at least your family can sue the city afterwards.

Jungkook is indeed on the table, except the table has long since tipped over. So now he’s just sprawled across some dirty bar floor, puppy-soft head of curls spilling over his forehead. He’s so cute, so adorable. You want to kill him. “Up,” you command, channeling the strength of twelve football players to haul your beefy boyfriend off the ground.

“Baby,” he beams, looking at you but not actually looking at you. “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?”

You don’t even know what that means, can’t even question him, because then Jin is angrily yelling at you to cover his tab. You pay with a stiff middle finger, flail the three dollars in your wallet at him, before sweeping away your poor damsel in distress. “You’re supposed to be studying,” you huff, can’t even be mad when he stops to throw up in a bush outside the bar. You’re so embarrassed, pretend you don’t know him as you pull up the bus times on your phone.

He’s huffy by the time you get on the bus, sniffling against your neck as he cries about his common hepatic portal vein thing— you don’t fucking know.

Chaeyoung isn’t too impressed with you when you bring him home, dump him on the couch while she steals your AirPods from your room. “Explain yourself,” you demand, and his head rolls back.

“I hate school,” he complains, slaps a hand down against his forehead. You’re certain he’s concussed himself this time. Then he’s bending over, head held between his hands. “Wanna cry.”

You sigh, kneeling in front of him. “You’re almost done,” you comfort him, hand on the back of his head. He’s so sweaty, and smells like all his friends colognes at the same time. “You’re smart, baby, you can do this.”

Your words have the opposite effect, because then he’s rocking forward childishly, nearly rams your skulls together and kills you. He’s reached the point of his insobriety where he’s too sad and huffy to think, sadly leaning against your shoulder as if that’ll somehow solve all his problems. You doubt it will, but there’s really nothing much you can when Jungkook reaches this point, so you settle on softly patting the back of his head until the fool is fucking snoring against you.

Chaeyoung blesses you with her divine retribution the next morning by using up the last of your body wash, and then you’re left to deal with a hungover Jungkook on a Thursday morning. You’re pretty sure he had a class that morning, but he wakes up too late for you to even try to convince him to still go, and then he’s moping on your couch in last night’s clothes. You’re getting ready for your internship, blouse half buttoned, pencil skirt wiggled up to your waist.

“Abolish exams,” he mutters, numbly staring at the ceiling as you wipe his face with a cleansing towelette. He doesn’t seem remotely interested in the shower or the pancakes you made, which lets you know this is a much more serious issue than just a drunken episode. “Aren’t they stupid?” You nod. “Sure, test me on every damn thing we’re learning right now as if science isn’t always changing and I’ll have to keep learning anyway.”

He looks over at you, under-eye bags absolutely horrendous. “Tests are stupid,” you agree, and it seems to be exactly what he wants to hear as he sinks into your arms, face buried in your chest. “Too stupid for smarty-pants Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook groans, flops over you on the couch all smelly and gross. “They test you for memorization and not comprehension,” he adds, finally wiggling out of his stinky clothes.

With Jungkook, you can never tell where things are going. One minute he’s cursing the education system and the next he’s kissing along your neck in his rambling fury. “As if I these materials will somehow become nonexistent once I’m working,” he huffs, hands on your thighs. Your breath hitches in your throat, fingers digging into his biceps as he mindlessly kisses down the valley between your breasts. “Shit’s so fucking stupid,” he spits, bunching your skirt around your waist.

“Jeon—“

“I’m just trying to be a fuckin’ pediatrician, for fuck’s sake,” he growls, hastily undoes the front buttons on your blouse. Your black bra comes into view, heart pounding in your chest as Jungkook makes quick work of reaching behind and undoing it, pushing it away, and cupping your breasts in his palms. He guides one of your legs around his waist, tucks it around him as he gets to work raining down kisses on your tits. “So pretty, doll,” he murmurs, pretty pink lips leaving smooches down your chest.

You bite down on your lip, watch through hazy eyes as those big doe eyes flick up at you, tongue swirling around your nipple. “N— Not tired anymore?” you pant, hands in his hair. It’s still dry and knotted from last night’s adventures, but you don’t mind. Not when Jungkook’s hard cock is flush against your thigh.

“Nah,” he confirms, rolling his hips forward against your core. Oh he was horny horny this morning. Or was he angry horny? You don’t care, either way you were winning. “I serenaded you last night, y’know?”

You snort, but it morphs into a whimper when he captures your rock hard nipple between his perfect teeth. “Not a serenade,” you whimper, fingernails running along his scalp, “if I’m not there.”

Jungkook leans back, lets you breathe for a second as he unbuckles the front of his pants, jeans pulled down around his thighs. And of course he’s hard as fuck by now; this was Jeon Jungkook you were dealing with. He could get it up and going in two seconds flat at the mere sight of your collarbones. “You were there,” he insists, capturing your hand in his all romantic like until you’re flustered and shaking him off. He levels you with a cheesy grin, presses your palm against his chest. “Here.”

You gag. “That’s disgusting.”

Jungkook laughs, all squeaky and airy because he’s never given a fuck about looking cool in front of you. His next words only prove your point. “Why? Don’t like being nestled against my left lung and esophagus, all sexy like?”

You roll your eyes, tug your panties aside to give him a full view of what his dorky anatomical talk has done to you. “Dick me down or go away,” you say, pointer finger nudging his chin up when he stares too long

He snaps his teeth at you, almost bites your finger, the fuckin’ weirdo. “Sassy today,” he teases, presses the tip of his cock against you. Both of you groan, watch as he glides himself up and down your folds, angry mushroom head pushing against your clit. “Always so wet for me,” he mumbles shakily, eyes zeroed in on your wet folds and how slick they feel against him. “Didn’t stretch you out again.”

“Yo— You’re mean about that anyway,” you pant, pulling him closer by those firm ass cheeks of his. “I can tell when you’re using me as a reference model.”

Jungkook gasps as if he’s genuinely scandalized by your claim, follows your wordless command and finally lines himself up with your quivering entrance. “I’m a hands-on learner,” he offers, his cheeky smile still on his face until he finally sinks into you and his features twist up all pretty. “Your pussy’s just so pretty, baby,” he grunts, hand on your hip.

Your face feels warm, from the pleasure that rolls over your body and the vulgarity of his words. “Shush now,” you say, try to sound strict and in command, but he’s got his other hand cupping your jaw, looking at you like you’re a goddess and not some dorky college student in their even dorkier internship uniform.

“Temptress,” he mumbles, pushes past your clenching lips until he’s flush against you, your walls spasming around his cock because he just feels so good. “Tried to sneak past me in that tiny skirt.” He draws back, lets his swollen head catch at the entrance before sliding back in, pace slow and sensual, too intimate for some random Thursday morning. “Little doll just needs to be fucked in the morning, doesn’t she?” A pitiful whimper catches in your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head with every glide of his dick back inside of you.

“N- Not my fault you have naughty eyes,” you whimper, hand coming up to bite at your knuckles as Jungkook continues to fuck you so sweetly. “Fuck.”

Jungkook ducks over you, wavy hair tickling your forehead as his hot breath fans across you. Smells like the mouthwash you made him take and hints of last night’s alcohol. “Can’t help it,” he husks, capturing your lips in his. Sloppy and wet, tongue clashing with yours as he guides you along, hips slowing to rhythmic ruts that have you moaning after each roll.

A few drawn-out thrusts later and you’re coming, body so sensitive this early in the morning, and it certainly doesn’t help that Jungkook looks like that (sweaty and worn, dark eyes watching you writhe beneath him). Surprisingly, it takes him a few more rushed thrusts before he follows, barely managing to pull out in time before his sparkling cum is splattering over your tummy and the skirt bunched around it. “No,” you whine, melting into the couch. “Jeon, this is my only one,” you complain, rubbing a hand over your eyes as if that’ll somehow make your legs work again enough to push him off.

Jungkook says nothing as he tucks himself back into his boxers, chest heaving from exertion as he crashes back onto the couch. “Liar,” he responds after a moment, out of breath and half asleep again. He’s still technically hungover. Hand lazily drawing circles on your knee as you sit up, wiggling your skirt back down. He gives you this indecipherable look. “I hid the other one under your dresser.”

You smack his arm. “Why the hell would you—“

He tackles you back into the couch, presses the stain into your skirt. It must feel gross against his naked tummy, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. “Makes me too horny,” he announces, pout pressed against your neck. “I had a teacher fantasy the other day. Did I tell you?” You roll your eyes, resigning yourself to this new life squashed beneath your boyfriend. “You were my high school anatomy teacher and I failed, so you made me stay after school for supplemental lessons—“

“That’s an abuse of power,” you point out, back to carding your hands through his now sweaty and greasy hair. “And you would never fail an anatomy class, that’s literally your comfort area of study.”

“Listen,” he stresses, lifts his head until he’s peering at you with these humongous Bambi eyes. “You spanked me and—“

“Go get my skirt.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 18]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; dom!seungcheol, dirty talk, car sex, filmed sex videos, using panties as a gag, but also panty stuffing, choking, domme!reader for like .3 seconds ☠️, after all the mess of last night(iykyk) i think we need this lol, but also a bit of a filler chapter for… reasons. 💕 but also came out raunchier than I anticipated but that was maybe just a me thing LOL 😭 as always, thank you for all the love and support with cherry bomb💕💕 only two more chapters left, I cant believe it... 😭😭😭 also again, another inbox roundup tomorrow! For now, enjoy ch 18 and have a great weekend! Be safe! ❤️🍒

not me editing the notes to include the ❤️🍒 that cheol just used on weverse 😩

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - x - x

“Did you get it?”

Jun looks around the diner as he nods, “Yeah. It got to my house yesterday but I still don’t understand why I had to help you get this… Does Seungcheol-hyung not know? I’m confused.” He laughs nervously, somewhat concerned he’s helping you do something you shouldn’t be doing.

You grin back at the confused male, blinking innocently at him while he chuckles under his breath.

“Not… for now. But don’t worry. He’ll find out! I just… Haven’t brought it up to him yet, is all! But I will! ‘Cause we’re planning something~”

Jun’s lips fall into a surprised ‘o’, eyes flitting to the group of people that enter the diner.

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” He yells, smiling before he turns to face you again. “So you’re scheming something but hyung’s just not part of the scheming… yet?”

“Exactly!”

“Hey, what do you say we go on a picnic date on Saturday?”

You tilt your head at Seungcheol, eyebrows raised. “I mean, I’d love to but we need to… post on Saturday? We haven’t filmed anything yet so I thought we’d film early on Saturday and then… y’know.”

Seungcheol grins at you from the opposite end of the sofa; eyes glimmering with a playfulness that has you mumbling a quiet ‘I see’ before rolling your eyes jokingly at the male.

“I see you’re scheming so the answer is yes, ‘Cheol, I’d love to go on a date with you on Saturday.”

“Good, ‘cause I already have everything set up for us so it would’ve been a waste!”

The two of you share a laugh before you’re remembering what you needed to bring up to Seungcheol. “Hey, by the way… about the channel rebranding thing.” Pausing, you wait for him to give you his full attention before you continue. “I thought maybe, we skip next week’s Wednesday show and instead we do a Friday show and for the last time, do a Saturday show and that’ll be, like, the rebranding? Is that confusing?”

Seungcheol nods along slowly, “No I know what you’re goin’ for. Any ideas for the shows?”

Your face and cheeks feel hot as you squirm, “Well… I had this idea. Why don’t we each… come up with a show concept. I’ll pick Friday’s show and you can pick Saturday’s and we’ll go with each other’s idea. Not, like, a competition but y’know, I thought it’d be fun for our viewers too! They can see what we come up with when each of us have control of the theme.”

Seungcheol goes quiet, contemplating his options. “And neither of us will know what the other’s concept is until the show?”

“Mmhmm! All within our hard limits though! That’s the only rule.”

A grin finds its way onto Seungcheol’s face. 

Oh, did he have ideas.

“Sounds fun. Can’t wait to see what you come up with, baby.”

‘Jeongguk I have a favour.’

Jeon 🥴: always favours wit u but ok, i havent been disappointed yet

Jeon 🥴: u keep me on my toes, it makes me tingly 

‘Shut up’

‘Do you have Jimin’s phone number, by chance?’

Jeon 🥴: I mean yea i do but…

Jeon 🥴: nvm i dont wanna kno

Jeon 🥴: but actually i wanna kno before i give it to u

‘Just give me the number and you can find out next Saturday’

Jeon 🥴: cryptic but i like it

Jeon 🥴: 82 13 1013 0613

Jeon 🥴: ur welcome

‘Thanks, Jeongguk, I owe you.’

The week continues with you and Seungcheol continuing to plan without each other; sly smirks and hushed giggles passed between you both even when Friday’s show comes and goes.

Saturday morning greets you with cloudy skies and pouring rain and you pout at Seungcheol as soon as you manage to get the curtains open to watch the downpour.

“‘Cheol, it’s raining… How are we gonna go on a picnic date now?” He bites the inside of his cheek as he thinks.

“We can still go on our date, we’ll just… stay in the car. It’s not as romantic as I would’ve liked but I already had everything set up for us and even packed a basket.” He laughs under his breath, a little deflated that the rain had suddenly come and ruined his plans.

There went his idea of fucking you on a big picnic blanket out in the open.

“I gotta say, even though we’re just chilling in your parked car on the hillside… It’s actually quite pretty out here, ‘Cheol! Kinda calming with the rain and all~”

The two of you stay bundled up underneath a blanket in the backseat; the car windows already fogged up with the warmth the two of you radiate.

Seungcheol had packed a picnic basket filled with various snacks and premade food; a sheepish smile on his face when he told you he wasn’t sure what to bring.

“I would’ve made food but I wanted it to be a surprise and I also wasn’t sure what would’ve been good to bring. Although, now I’m thinkin’ we should’ve packed a thermos of hot chocolate or something.”

You pull away from him slightly, pouting. “That would’ve been good to warm us up a bit. I totally didn’t think of it either…”

Seungcheol grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Speaking of warming up…” He leaves the comfort of the blanket as he leans over to the side, placing his phone precariously on the phone holder that he’d set up on the backside of the driver’s seat to catch a side view of the two of you. He opens the camera app and quickly starts recording before he settles back into his place across from you.

“Well? Give it to me, baby. Right now.”

You feel a thrum of arousal pour over you at his sudden demand, “I--but--but I’m not p-prepped yet, I--”

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head slightly before he leans over you; making sure the two of you are within the camera’s line of filming.

“Baby, I just wanted a kiss.” Your entire face goes hot, all the way up to your ears. “O-oh.”

He leans in, soft lips pressing against your own as he tangles a hand in your hair to deepen the kiss. You melt into his touch, lips parting on their own as you let out soft moans that mix in with the pitter patter of rain outside.

His lips leave yours and before you can even get a word out, a shiver runs up your spine when he starts pressing soft kisses against your jawline.

“So pretty and all mine.” He mumbles; voice muffled against your warm skin. “And now everyone knows who you belong to, right, angel?”

You nod shakily, throat dry at the gentleness in Seongcheol’s voice. “Y-yeah… ‘m all yours, ‘C--Cheol…”

“Should I leave some reminders? Just in case anyone forgets.”

You mewl in response, eyes rolling back when you feel Seungcheol starting to leave love bites on your neck. He sucks on the skin, only to soothe it with his tongue moments after.

“A-ah, don’t l-leave so many or e-else…” Whining, you rub your thighs together under the blanket; already feeling the arousal starting to take over your body.

“Or else…? I wasn’t aware you were giving me orders now, baby.” He smirks against your skin, leaving one more love bite on the column of your neck before he pulls away.

He kisses you softly on the lips once more before he’s pulling the blanket off of you and tugging you onto his lap; a gentle, warm smile on his plush lips. Your lust filled eyes meet Seungcheol’s before they’re flitting down to your lap where he pushes your skirt up to reveal your panties and before you can fully comprehend, he’s already tearing at the material before he tosses it to the side.

“I want you to ride my cock just like this, baby. Forget the camera’s even rolling, I wanna see you getting off in the backseat of my car and I wanna see your pretty face when you’re falling apart from how good my cock fills up your pretty cunt.”

You rock your hips against Seungcheol’s; hands placed on his shoulder as you chase your pleasure.

“You look so pretty like this, angel. So fuckin’ cute when you’re getting what you want.” You moan in response, head thrown back when the head of his cock taps your g-spot.

“So fuckin’ wet for me.” Seungcheol pauses; hands snaking down your body until you feel them on the skin of your ass.

He squeezes your ass as you whine loudly, fingertips teasing at the puckered rim. “Ah, we should’ve brought a toy with us. Bet you would’ve liked both of your needy holes filled, huh?”

“Y-yes, fuck! S--Seungcheol!” You clench around his cock, bouncing in his lap harder when he pulls his fingers away.

“We’ll save it for another time~ Wouldn’t want to rock the car too much, y’know? And I’d want you to be comfortable when you have all your needy ‘lil holes filled, not in the backseat of my car.” He grins at your somewhat disappointed face; feet planted on the floor of the car before he’s thrusting up into you and matching your erratic movements.

“Oh, g-god, it feels s--so good! I, ah, w-wanna cum!” Whimpering, your brows furrow as your hazy eyes meet Seungcheol’s.

“Aww, my sweet angel wants to cum already? So fuckin’ easy. Only a few minutes on my cock and you’re already falling apart?”

When he smirks back at you; there’s a sudden pang of confidence that pours over you and in an instant, you move a free hand up to the column of his throat. You squeeze down slightly, only enough as a warning as he licks his lips at you.

There’s a beat of silence as the two of you stop your movements while you sit perfectly still on his cock.

“Hmm? Gonna choke me to shut me up, baby? Go ahead. Let’s see if you can.” He taunts, hands still on your clothed waist. You start swiveling your hips again, except this time you keep your hand loosely wrapped around his neck; fingertips only just pressing into the sides as he lets out a soft groan in return.

“I bet you’d like it t-too much, ‘Cheol…” He chuckles softly; nodding when he feels his cock throbbing inside of your pussy.

“Not as much as you do.” He starts thrusting up into you again, momentarily making you lose your hold on him when your body jostles from his harsh movements.

“Mmh, gonna cum in your pretty cunt ‘n then I’m gonna make you sit pretty with your fingers keeping my cum inside while I drive us both home. Fuck, bet you’d cum again just from that too. Sitting in the passenger’s seat, fingering my cum deeper into your needy cunt.”

Before Seungcheol can say any more, your other free hand quickly reaches for your discarded, torn panties; shoving them into his parted lips as he lets out a surprised noise around the fabric.

“You, ngh, t-talk too m-much…” You mutter.

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh around the fabric, quickly pulling your hand from around his neck as he swiftly maneuvers you off of his cock to switch your positions.

He presses you down into the backseat as he pistons his hips into you; his hands keeping your legs spread obscenely wide as he fucks you hard and fast.

The car rocks back and forth with his harsh movements and your moans only get louder and louder with each thrust of his hips that has the head of his cock slamming into your g-spot.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna c-cum!” You feel your walls getting tighter around Seungcheol’s cock and he finds it harder and harder to thrust into you as your body starts to tense with your impending orgasm. He growls around the fabric in his mouth; eyes silently ordering you to cum as his hips start to lose rhythm.

“Ah, S--Seungcheol!”

His name rolls off of your tongue in quick succession until it turns into muddled, broken whines and cries and he fucks you right through your orgasm as he chases his own. He feels his cock throbbing inside of you as your walls flutter around him and he only manages a drawn out groan before he’s unloading all of his cum inside of you; head thrown back as he lets the waves of pleasure wash over his body.

You stare up at him through glassy eyes, chest heaving as you ride out the remnants of your high. “Ngh… gonna, mmh, make a--a mess on the s-seats…” Muttering, it takes a few quiet moments before Seungcheol is slowing down his thrusts to a complete halt but the glimmer in his eyes lets you know he’s not completely done with you just yet.

Seungcheol starts to slowly ease his cock out of you as you groan softly at the emptiness, waiting for the second you close your eyes to blink to make his move.

He takes his chance; pulling the soaked material from inside of his mouth just as the head of his cock is at your entrance and he quickly places the torn panties right where the head of his cock was, just a second ago.

“That was really cute of you, baby.” You breath hitches when you feel his fingers starting to press the material into your spent hole. “Really, really cute.”

Your thighs shake at the feeling of Seungcheol slowly pushing your panties into your cunt; eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out shaky whimpers. “Oh, fuh--fuck, Seungcheol, mmh!”

“I actually packed a spare pair of panties for you, y’know? I was gonna play nice and eat your pretty ‘lil cunt out instead of letting you sit in cum soaked panties but I guess you had other plans, hmm? Got a little too greedy, perhaps?”

He smirks down at you, watching as your face contorts in unadulterated bliss when he pushes more and more of your panties into your pussy until only a small piece of fabric is left hanging out.

Seungcheol turns to face his phone that’s still recording, plucking it from the holder it’d been in before he flips the camera and films your body instead. He lets it linger on your fucked out expression before he brings it down to your pussy, filming your squirming body as you clench around the fabric keeping Seungcheol’s cum from spilling out of you and onto the backseat.

“Mm, and now you get to sit in the passenger’s seat, your own panties stuffed into your pussy while I drive home. But I bet it feels good, huh? Your needy ‘lil hole plugged up ‘til I can get you home so I can fuck you again. Unless you get really desperate, then I’ll let you take the panties out by yourself and you can finger your cunt and make yourself cum again.”

Goosebumps rise on your skin at his filthy words and you can’t help but bring a shaky hand down, fingertips already on your clit as Seungcheol raises a brow at you.

“You should get to d-driving then, ‘Cheol… Don’t you wanna find out what, ah, I choose?”

He shakes his head as he ends the recording on his phone; tossing the device to the side before he leans over you again.

“You’ve been getting really cocky with me, angel. Something I should know about?”

You blink up at him innocently, lips in a pout. 

“Nope~”

[songtwo]

if i remember correctly, i think you do music journalism right? if so, did you go into it with a lot of knowledge about the music scene? i want to do music journalism but i'm scared that i don't know enough about it :/

hiii yes i started about a month ago and I think I've gathered most of my music knowledge throughout books, youtube videos, interviews, and even Tumblr posts.

for starters i think you should begin by watching videos on yt abt the genres/movements/artists etc ur interested in or simply the ones that seem interesting to you. my favorite channels for that are trash theory, mic the snare, polyphonic and rock n roll true stories. they all share really interesting and fun facts/stories or full on essays on a song or an album or tell u the entire history of how certain genre came to be etc. my favorites are polyphonic and trash theory btw.

watching these videos will inevitably lead u to search interviews and articles on a certain topic and i think what's really amazing about music history is how it's all connected like rn I'm reading meet me in the bathroom and I'm so glad i read please kill me first bc it just feels more adequate and makes u feel the magic of it all yk. I'd also recommend looking around the artist tag on here bc there's also lots of content on tumblr (like damonalbarnunofficial yk they're like god) and find these blogs that know what they're talking about. some of my knowledge also comes from reading my mutuals posts yk <3

and i think what will help you the most especially on terms of the music scene is reading books written by those who have been part of it or the ones that document it. it depends on which scenes u are most interested in but some of the ones I've read are please kill me, girl in a band by kim gordon, i dreamt i was a very clean tramp by richard hell, just kids by patti smith, afternoons with the blinds drawn by brett anderson, neon angel by cherie currie and while we were getting high by kevin cummins (it's mostly photographs but includes some trivia/the story about how the pic came to be etc.) and rn im reading meet me in the bathroom so these are the ones i could recommend. but there's also lots more like our band could be your life, face it, etc etc just read the ones that attract u. also all these books are free to download on zlibrary<3

i think another fun thing is to read about certain interesting journalists like legs mcneil, lester bangs, lizzy goodman, etc.

idk if u also have questions abt that but im gonna say it anyway lol. as for becoming a journalist my advice is make an Instagram account and find as many magazines from your country as u can. international magazines are obviously good as well but in my experience they're better for submitting certain articles and making ur cv look good lol which is great but it'll be more likely to get hired by a national magazine as that's where you're based and they can actually send u to a certain show/festival or even cover your local music scene. keep active on insta even if it's just to check their accounts bc they do post a lot of opportunities mostly on stories to either be officially a part of their team or to intern with them etc so i think in this day and age this is easiest and maybe only way to be a music journalist.

and also don't worry about not knowing Everything u don't have to know all about a certain genre or artist just start with what u know and research what interests u and it'll all come to u dw <3 good luck i hope this was helpful!!!<333

[paintingwithdarkness]

"i run the night slot on campus radio and some jackass keeps calling in to insult my music taste and request high school musical songs instead” with BluePulse please!

“Good evening, Tigers! You’re listening to Houston U’s nightly segment. I’m your host, Jaime Reyes. Y’all just listened to ‘Today is the Day’ by Yo La Tengo. Next up we have ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes.” Jaime pressed a button on the console in front of him, starting the next song before adding on to his commentary. “If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to call in!”

Jaime switched off his microphone and let the song play, flopping back in his chair. Running the night segment of the Houston University campus radio was a pretty chill gig. It paid him above minimum wage for every hour he worked, he only had to work six hour shifts, and it was only five days a week. Besides that, it was a solo job, and no one was there to tell him what to do. Obviously there had been some ground rules when he’d been hired— no cursing on air, and he had to take call-ins from students— but other than that, he had free rein of the radio frequency and he could play whatever music he wanted from 6 pm to Midnight, Monday through Friday. All he had to do was press buttons on a control console, sit back, relax, and occasionally answer the phone.

Speaking of which... Jaime checked the time. 10:28 pm. Great, that meant it was almost time.

With a groan, he raised a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, eyes squeezing shut. Every night for the past two weeks at exactly 10:30 pm, without fail, the same jackass student had been calling in to insult his music taste and request High School Musical songs instead. The first time it had happened, Jaime had been shocked at the audacity of the student, but had granted the song request anyway. (He had to. It was part of his contract. If a person called in with a song request, Jaime had to grant it. The only exception was if someone requested a song that was inappropriate to air. As long as it had clean/sensored language, and was free from overly explicit themes, Jaime queued up the song).

He mentally prepared himself. ‘Seven Nation Army’ was just about over, and Jaime already had his next song selected. If he timed things right, he could take the annoying student’s call during the next song, and wouldn’t have to subject himself to humiliation where everyone who was listening to his station could hear. It had only taken Jaime three nights to catch onto the trend.

As the guitar faded out, Jaime switched back on his microphone and addressed his audience, “That one’s a classic. ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. Hope y’all enjoyed that one. I’ve got a few more songs in store for y’all with the time we have left-”

The tell-tale ring of the phone interrupted him. Jaime had to bite his tongue to prevent the string of Spanish curses that wanted to fall from his lips from actually coming out. He had spent too long talking, and now he had to take the dreaded call on-air.

He took a deep breath, and had to layer on the enthusiasm thick as he ‘cheerily’ exclaimed, “It looks like we have our first caller of the night!” Jaime picked up the phone and gave the scripted greeting, “Hello, fellow Tiger! You’re on-air with Houston U’s nightly segment. Care to introduce yourself to all the listeners out there?”

Like all the nights previous when Jaime had asked this question, he got the same response. “Nah. I think I’ll stay anonymous. Keep things interesting. Though if you want a clue, I’ll tell you; I’m on the track team.”

Jaime scrambled for his notebook. That was the biggest clue he’d gotten yet about this mysterious student caller. It was almost like some kind of game. So far, every night when this student had called in, they’d said they wanted to remain anonymous, yet would give a clue about their identity. So far, Jaime had a bulleted list of eight items, with ‘track team’ being number nine. The other clues he’d received were ‘hates Indie Rock’ (which was Jaime’s favorite genre of music, thank you very much), ‘favorite movie is High School Musical 2’ (which was blatantly obvious, based on the songs this jackass student always requested), ‘favorite color is red’ (which told Jaime squat about who this kid was), ‘favorite food is chicken whizzes’ (once again, jack shit), ‘red hair’ (which was the first major clue Jaime had gotten), ‘green eyes’ (now it was obvious the kid wanted Jaime to figure out who he was), ‘5’9”’ (somewhat helpful), ‘Freshman’ (which eliminated 3/4 of the students on campus this caller could be), ‘mechanical engineering major’ (another somewhat helpful clue), and ‘gay’ (which, wow, Jaime would never out himself live on the air. This guy had some balls...).

After the mad scramble for a pencil, Jaime flipped the notebook open and single-handedly jotted down the new piece of information, balancing the phone against his ear with the other hand. When he was finished, he leaned back in the big leather chair, kicking his feet up against the edge of the desk in front of himself, feeling satisfied. Jaime knew he had enough information now to track down this annoying student and put an end to these stupid calls interrupting his radio show every night. Tonight would be the last time ‘We’re All in This Together’, ‘Bop to the Top’, or ‘Get Your Head in the Game’ would play during his segment, and Jaime was RELIEVED.

“Is that why you feel the need to call into my show every night?” Jaime fired back at the student. “So you can rope all of your track mates into singing ‘We’re All in This Together’ while you run in circles?”

An airy laugh was the response. And there a slight second where Jaime thought to himself, ‘Wow. That’s actually kinda cute,’ before his brain rebooted and he realized how counterintuitive that was. This guy was an annoyance that had to be dealt with. So what if he had an attractive laugh? It didn’t erase all of the other judgements Jaime had already formed of this student. And they were that this guy had terrible music taste and needed to find another hobby besides calling in every night to bug the shit out of Jaime.

“What better song to commemorate mutual suffering?” The other man laughed again.

Jaime scowled. ‘Mutual suffering’? Sure, Jaime knew the vexing student was talking about his track mates, but he couldn’t help catching the irony in the choice of words. As far as Jaime was concerned, the only one doing any suffering was him.

“So is that your request for tonight?” Jaime just wanted to get this over with already.

A contemplative “hmmm” made its way down the line, before being followed with, “Well, I was originally gonna ask for ‘Get Your Head in the Game’ but ‘All in this Together’ works nicely, too.”

“Por Díos,” Jaime mumbled under his breath. “¿No puede este idiota tomar una decisión?”

“Woah, hey, is that Spanish?!” Apparently Jaime’s mumblings hadn’t been quiet enough. “Yo hablo español!”

Jaime cringed. The pronounciation was terrible, but the enthusiasm was endearing. And dammit! He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. His train of thought was off the tracks again.

Without saying anything else, Jaime turned to his computer, quickly punched ‘We’re All in this Together’ into the song search bar, and hit play. He switched over the audio connection so that the only thing his audience could hear was the music, took a deep breath, and then made his rebuttal to the annoying student.

“You might want to work on that pronounciation, ese.”

The response was whiny. “Aww, it’s not that bad!”

Jaime cringed. “It’s not great, either.”

The student on the other line sighed. “Fine. But at least I have good taste in music!”

“That’s debatable.” Jaime didn’t know why he was dragging out the conversation. Usually after he granted this annoying caller’s request each night, the student rattled off a final jab at Jaime, before just hanging up. Why was he staying on the line tonight? Maybe Jaime just had to direct the conversation in that direction?

“My music is better than what you play every night. I’m doing you and your radio station a favor!” And yep, there it was.

“I don’t think people are tuning into my station to listen to the one High School Musical song you insist I play every night.”

Jaime could practically hear the smirk through the line when the other student responded. “Even if people are tuning in to listen to your crappy music, my song is still the highlight.”

Jaime groaned. He was growing weary of this conversation. “Do you listen to anything besides terrible High School Musical songs?”

That cute laugh caught in Jaime’s ears again. “Doi. A guy needs to have a little variety in his music. I’ve also got ‘Can’t Stop Singing’, ‘Turn Up the Music’, ‘Determinate’-”

Jaime’s eyes rolled skyward. “I’m gonna stop you there. Does your playlist contain any songs that aren’t from Disney Channel movies?”

A horrified gasp marked the beginning of the indignant response. “What’s wrong with Disney movies? High School Musical is the crashest movie series in existence.”

Jaime didn’t have enough time to think over the choice of the word ‘crashest’ before the other student continued rambling on.

“What other kind of music do you need?! Disney movies have great numbers, teach you about life and friendship, and growing up, and you gotta be kidding me if you don’t think Zac Efron is hot playing Troy.”

Jaime snorted a laugh for the last amendment to the other student’s statement. He’d only watched High School Musical once, and that was enough for him. And despite occasionally finding other men attractive (being bisexual himself), Zac Efron had never really done it for Jaime.

“I wouldn’t exactly call those ‘musical numbers’ as you put it, any type of masterpiece, however, I suppose you earn a pass for the friendship and growing up part.” Jaime smartly decided to skip the Zac Efron comment altogether, “I would say I’m more of a fan of the Disney animated movies. At least I can tolerate the Lion King and Aladdin sound tracks.”

A little puff of a chuckle, and then, “You should really get a better hobby than bashing on Disney movies.”

Jaime scoffed and immediately fired back, “You’re the one who calls me every night to bash on my music.”

“Oooh.” The other student made a hissing sound, as if a flame were being extinguished. “Caught red handed. But—” And here, Jaime could sense something dangerous was about to be said— “how about we settle this once and for all. You obviously don’t get out of the radio studio enough. What say you come to the next Houston U track meeting? We can settle this music debate once and for all.” Yep. That was a challenge.

Jaime took a few seconds to deliberate. He was curious to see who this mysterious caller was. Besides, what harm could it do? Jaime was not the type to back down when he was challenged. He had his pride and dignity. He would not be bested by this asshole. He was going to go to that track meeting.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, ese.” If the other student were there in person, Jaime could imagine shaking his hand to seal the contract.

“Alright,” the other student said, and if Jaime wasn’t mistaken, he sounded rather gleeful that Jaime had taken the bait, “I’ll see you there.” And then the line went dead.

Jaime ran a hand through his hair as he hung up the phone with the other. What had he gotten himself into?

The next Houston U track meeting was a week and two days since the fated phone call. Since that night, the mysterious student caller hadn’t rung Jaime’s radio station. It was a power move, and a good one at that. He had put the ball in Jaime’s court (or passed him the baton? That was a track thing, right?), meaning all responsibility was on him. In all honesty, Jaime was tempted to skip out on their ‘deal’. Sure, he’d agreed, but only because Jaime’d thought it was the key to get the student to stop calling. Now that the calls had stopped, Jaime saw no reason to get involved and draw attention back to himself. Maybe if he didn’t go, the annoying student would just leave him alone.

On the other hand, if he didn’t go, wouldn’t that just give the other student more incentive to start calling him again? Not only would Jaime continue to get bashed for his music taste, but then the other student would also be able to expose him as a liar. That was definitely NOT the reputation Jaime wanted to have. He had no choice. He HAD to go to that stupid track meeting.

It didn’t mean he didn’t drag his feet the whole way to the field though. Even with his ticket and getting there five minutes early, it was near impossible to find a seat. Jaime had no idea a sporting event like track would be so popular. What was so special about a bunch of guys running around in a circle?

It took a little shoving and some mumbled “sorry”s and “excuse me”s before Jaime was finally able to plunk down next to a young couple, in one of the only empty seats left. They seemed like nice enough people; the man even tried making small talk with him once Jaime sat down; but Jaime’s shy demeanor prevented the conversation from launching into something deeper.

Once the couple was no longer paying him much attention, Jaime surreptitiously slipped his little pocket notebook out of his jeans and flipped it open to the page where he had noted all of the little clues his mystery caller had given him.

Unfortunately, only some of them were usable in this context. Clues about the other student’s personality and preferences wouldn’t help Jaime identify anyone. Only the clues the track star had given Jaime about his physical appearance would be of use. He was looking for a redheaded, green-eyed, 5’9” Freshman. Should be simple enough.

When Jaime glanced down to where the runners were stretching by the starting blocks, he immediately noticed three boys with red hair. Luckily, this track meet was only a Houston U event and other schools weren’t participating. That meant one of the three was his mysterious caller.

From this distance, Jaime couldn’t judge eye color, and height was difficult to gage. He supposed he would have to wait for the announcers to give the names and grades of the competitors. Hopefully only one of the redheads would be a Freshman, and Jaime could find his culprit.

Within a few minutes, a runner was at the blocks for every lane. The first event was the 100m sprint. Everyone on the team would be participating. Only six could go at a time, and the announcer said that there would be three heats. Unfortunately for Jaime, the announcer didn’t bother with the names of the competitors since everyone was running, but he hoped that at least the winners would be announced, in case his redhead happened to be one of them.

In the first heat, two of the three red-haired boys were lined up at the blocks. Jaime trained his eyes on them. The first boy was in the second lane, and the other in the sixth lane. Hopefully one of the two would win so that Jaime could narrow down his suspects.

When the starting gun fired, all six runners took off like rockets. The pure speed was quite a shock for Jaime to witness. Within fifteen seconds, all six runners crossed the finish line.

“Winner!” The announcer shouted, once first place for the heat had been determined. He held up the arm of one of the redheads Jaime had been watching. “Senior Wally West with a time of 10.8 seconds!”

An elderly couple three seats over from where Jaime was sitting sprang out of their seats cheering. “Yeah, Wally!” shouted the man. His wife was enthusiastically clapping.

When they sat down again, the couple next to Jaime (conveniently sandwiched between him and the cheering couple) turned to face them.

“Wow!” the blond man next to Jaime exclaimed. “That’s his fastest time yet!”

The other blond man laughed (and it was then that Jaime noticed the striking resemblance). “He’s been working hard. Of course, he’s no match for Bart, but just maybe Wally might have a shot at beating him in the 3200m.”

The brunette woman of the younger couple hummed, a smirk resting on her lips. “I don’t know about that one. Our Bart’s got Thawne blood, too. He’s got runners from both sides. Wests... not so much.”

“Mel!” the man next to Jaime gasped, scandalized. “I thought we said no family rivalry at track meets?”

Immediately the brunette woman, Mel, appologized. “Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s right,” the man from the elderly couple interjected. “You have to remember Donny’s got some West blood himself. Iris was a West before she married me.” He slung an arm around the graying red-haired woman sitting beside him.

It was then that Jaime was able to piece it together. The young blond man— Donny— sitting next to him, was the son of the elderly couple— Iris and her husband (unfortunately Jaime didn’t have his name yet). The younger brunette woman— Mel— was Donny’s wife, and one of the runners— Bart— was their son, and the grandson of the elderly couple. Wally— the runner who had just won the first heat was a relative (?) of the two couples.

By the time Jaime was done puzzling out the relations, the next heat of runners was already at the starting blocks. Unfortunately, the other redhead, whom Jaime guessed was Bart, was not in this heat.

The starting gun fired, and the race was over within fifteen seconds again. The winner was announced, and the runners of the third heat took their places.

Jaime’s gaze zeroed in on the redhead in the first lane. That must be Bart. Mel and Donny were balanced on the edges of their seats next to Jaime.

As soon as the gun fired, Bart was nearly a quarter of the way down the lane. He was insanely fast. Jaime wouldn’t be surprised if he hit an Olympic time. His teammates stood no chance.

When he was announced the winner, Jaime had to do a double take at the 9.63 second time blinking on the screen behind him. That was more than a second faster than Wally, who had won the first heat.

“‘Attaboy, Bart!” Donny yelled.

The exclamation caused Bart’s attention to be drawn towards them. He waved proudly at his parents, and then his gaze caught on Jaime. Even from this distance Jaime could see the electric green eyes trained on him. There was no mistaking it now. Even with the other redhead to consider (since Jaime hadn’t heard his name or grade announced yet), he was certain Bart was his mystery caller. There was something in his eyes— a knowing glint— that made Jaime nervous. Could Bart know who he was?

It wasn’t completely impossible. Because he ran the campus radio at night, Jaime had a page on the school website. His name and picture were plastered right along side Cassie and Gar’s. Cassie had the morning shift from 6 am to noon, and Gar’s comedy segment ran from noon to 6 pm, when Jaime started. All Bart had to do was look him up and he would know exactly who Jaime was.

In retrospect, Jaime easily could have done the same to figure out who his annoying caller was. Once he’d received the track team clue, he could have pulled up the roster and narrowed his suspects down. He could have ruled out Wally because he was a Senior, and possibly even the other redhead based on his year. The announcer had said that Bart was a Freshman when he’d announced him as a winner, so Jaime figured he was the most likely of the three to be the caller. He matched all of the physical descriptors.

There were two more sprinting events that followed, each doubling the distance of the previous. After witnessing the 100m event, Jaime wasn’t surprised when Bart came in first for the 200m and 400m. It was honestly impressive. Bart was talented both in the art of running and annoying Jaime over phone calls. Truly difficult feats.

Once the sprinting events were finished, the competitors moved onto the field. Unlike the sprinting events, some members of the team sat out. Jaime noticed only six members of the team were participating. Two for discus, two for shot put and two for javelin. Neither Bart nor Wally was one of the six. The other redhead on the other hand, was lined up at the javelin throwing line.

Jaime paid him little mind. As soon as the announcer introduced him as a Senior, Jaime tuned out completely. Now there was absolutely no doubt whatsoever. Bart was his mystery caller.

While the field events took place, Jaime watched Bart stretching out on the side of the track. He was surprisingly limber. And Jaime had nothing to blame but the part of his mind attracted to men when he watched Bart bend over in his running shorts to stretch out his hamstrings. He had really nice legs, among... other things.

Jaime shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. He’d come here to put Bart in his place because of the annoying phone calls. Not admire his amazing calves.

When the field events were over, some members of the team moved back onto the track for the hurdle events. Again, Bart was not amongst them.

“He doesn’t do hurdles either?” Jaime accidentally mused aloud.

Donny turned to look at him. “First track meeting?” he asked, kindly.

Jaime felt a blush crop up on his cheeks. He hadn’t meant for his comment to be out loud.

“Yeah,” he admitted, despite his embarrassment.

Donny gave him a smile. “They each only do one event plus the sprints. You’ve got the three field events, hurdles, and long distance.”

“Oh.” Jaime nodded to show he understood.

Donny outstretched his hand. “I’m Don.”

Jaime shook Bart’s father’s hand. “Jaime,” he returned.

When Don took his hand back, he used it to point to his wife. “This is my wife, Meloni.”

The brunette woman waved at him.

“And my parents, Barry and Iris.” He gestured at each member of the older couple as well.

Jaime ducked his head shyly. “Nice to meet you all.”

The pop of the starting gun drew their attention back to the track where the hurdlers had just taken off from the blocks. Jaime watched on in interest, amazed at the skill that had been displayed today. He’d never imagined a track meet being this entertaining.

After a few moments, Don turned back to him. “Who’re you here for?” He pointed down at the track members surrounding the edge of the rubberized circle, cheering on their participating teammates.

Jaime felt that blush bloom on his cheeks again. Should he be honest? He was sitting right next to Bart’s parents. What if they started asking questions he didn’t have the answers to?

“Uh, I-I’m here for Bart.” He didn’t really have any other options. He didn’t know the names of any of the other track members.

Donny’s green eyes suddenly lit up. “Bart didn’t tell us his boyfriend was coming! It’s quite a coincidence we ended up sitting next to one another!”

Jaime gave a hard blink, processing the sentences that had just exited the blond man’s mouth. “Uh, we’re not-”

Meloni cut him off. “Oh! You’re the one who runs the campus radio! I knew your name sounded familiar. Bart talks about you all the time!”

The first thought that went through Jaime’s mind was, ‘Does he now?’. There was no mistaking it. Bart was 100 percent the annoying student who called into his radio segment each night. And Bart knew who he was. As soon as this track meeting was over, Jaime was definitely going to have some words with him.

“It’s so nice to finally get to meet you!”

Jaime didn’t know whether he should burst their bubble. Don and Meloni seemed like genuinely good people, and they were happy for their son having seemingly found a relationship. Although their assumptions weren’t true, Jaime knew he would feel extremely bad telling them otherwise.

Luckily, there wasn’t much time for him to dwell on the subject. As soon as the winners for the hurdling events were determined, the obstacles were cleared off the track and the next set of runners were lining up at the starting blocks. Two heads of red hair immediately caught Jaime’s attention. Bart and Wally were lining up in lanes one and two, while a few more of their track mates joined them in the other lanes.

“Who do you think it’ll be this time?” Barry posed the question aloud.

“I think Bart’s got a running shot.”

Everyone groaned at Don’s poor-quality joke.

“I apologize on my husband’s behalf,” Meloni mostly addressed Jaime, “What he meant was that Bart’s been working on his pacing. He’s the fastest on the team, and has always taken first in all of the sprinting events, but Wally always gives him some good competition for the long distance stuff.”

Jaime nodded thoughtfully. Bart had definitely been fast; no doubt about that. But he was curious to see how he would do in an event that required more endurance. Apparently he would actually have some competition this time, unlike in the sprinting events where Bart had left all of his teammates in the dust.

When the starting gun fired, Jaime found himself actually holding his breath. This first distance was 1500m, just shy of a mile. Jaime could remember having to do the one mile run in P.E. back in high school and how much of a pain it had been. The best time Jaime had ever gotten was just over six minutes.

For the first lap or so, Wally and Bart were neck and neck. The rest of their teammates were about half a lap behind. Then, when they went into the second lap, Bart kicked it up a notch, pulling ahead. Wally kept his own even pace, a schooled look of determination set over his features, while Bart’s lips transformed into a confident smirk.

By the final lap, Bart and Wally were shoulder to shoulder again. It was clear that Wally had the superior skill when it came to pacing, as he had been able to keep the same speed the whole time, whereas Bart’s speed had varied in spurts, depending on his level of endurance. It was unclear which one of them was going to win.

When Jaime looked around at the stands, he could see fans eagerly debating which one of the redheads they thought was going to win. The general consensus seemed to be Wally, but Jaime had a feeling his High School Musical-song-loving caller had a trick up his sleeve.

When they reached the last 100m or so of the race, the stadium burst into cheering, each person of the audience shouting encouragement to their respective runner. Against all odds, and to the surprise of many, Bart burst into a full out sprint, easily overtaking Wally, and crossing the finish line with an enthusiastic whoop.

Jaime was absolutely shocked to say the least. After running three laps, how had Bart found the energy for that last burst of speed?

A time of 4.02 minutes flashed on the screen behind them as the announcer proclaimed Bart the winner. Meloni and Don broke into cheers beside Jaime, and Barry and Iris clapped as well to show their support. Even Jaime found a small smile working it’s way onto his lips as he clapped, in awe of the impressive speed Bart had just displayed.

There was a few minutes between events while the results of the race were recorded and the next set of runners lined up at the starting blocks. Again, both Bart and Wally were among the competitors. This time, the distance was more than double what they had just run at 3200m. Jaime was curious to see how Bart would hold up against the longer distance.

When the starting gun fired, all of the runners took off as a group, rather than Bart and Wally distinguishing themselves from the pack right away. With eight laps to go, Jaime supposed it made sense. No point in going all out during the first half of the race, only to burn out when it really mattered. Bart and Wally would probably wait until the final few laps to burst ahead of their teammates.

Around and around the track they went, keeping pace with one another until the sixth lap. As soon as they passed the starting line, all of the runners kicked it up a notch, and gaps between the competitors became more noticeable. As expected, Wally and Bart pulled ahead of everyone else, and chatter broke out amongst the crowd about which redhead it would be this time.

Barry and Iris seemed to have their money on their nephew (Jaime had finally pieced it together when Barry made the comment about Iris being a West before marriage), whereas Don and Meloni, being the proud parents they were, were betting on their son to come out on top. Jaime couldn’t help being biased, and was also rooting for Bart. After all, he was the whole reason Jaime was at this track meet to begin with.

Bart was giving his all. Halfway into the last lap, he was ahead of Wally by a few steps. It seemed like he had the win in the bag. Then out of nowhere, Wally pulled the same stunt Bart had last time.

Jaime could see Bart do a double take when his cousin passed him, but there was nothing he could do. Bart’s strength was his speed; not endurance. He was only able to give about 80 percent, whereas Wally had paced himself better, and could pour 100 percent of his speed into the last leg of the race.

While Jaime was disappointed to see Bart take second, he was still impressed overall. Wally had beat Bart by two seconds, but Bart had beat the rest of his team by nearly ten seconds, meaning he and Wally had had quite an impressive lead.

Barry, Iris, Don and Meloni were engaged in a chat about the outcome of the latest race, but Jaime found his eyes glued to his not-so-mysterious (anymore) caller. Despite losing the last event, Bart seemed to be a good sport. He and Wally were standing on the sidelines, getting a quick drink and catching their breaths before the final event was set to start. Between gulps of water, Jaime could see the cousins teasing one another, egging each other on, and hyping one another up for the competition of the next race.

When they were called over to the track for the last event, Bart elbowed Wally in the ribs with a cocky smirk on his face, and Wally retaliated by pulling the smaller man into a headlock to ruffle his hair. Jaime didn’t quite know what to make of it, other than that Bart seemed to have a cocky, playful personality. It explained why he had been so adamant about playing the stupid identity game he had roped Jaime into over the phone during his radio segments each night.

The last distance was 5000m, or approximately 12 laps. Just thinking about that much running made Jaime want to cry. Needless to say, he wasn’t a huge fan of running. Other sports, sure, but running was not something Jaime enjoyed for himself. He would have to give massive kudos to Bart for having enough dedication to running to put himself through the 12 lap race.

Again, all of the runners stayed in a pack for the majority of the race. By about lap eight, it was clear who the real endurance runners were. The six competitors had spread out, a few feet behind one another, with Wally leading. There was a black-haired guy on his heels, and following behind him were Bart and another black-haired runner, a little shorter than the man in front of him. Two more runners were taking up the rear.

Laps nine, ten and eleven passed without much change. It wasn’t until they got into the final lap that Bart mustered the energy to pull ahead of his two black-haired teammates and take up the trail behind his cousin.

Wally’s winning time of fourteen minutes and two seconds flashed up on the scoreboard, followed by Bart’s time of 14.08. Jaime almost had to do a double take. When he calculated the math, it meant Bart had averaged a time of approximately a minute and eleven seconds per lap, and Wally had been faster still!

While the judges and officials were confirming the results of all of the events that had taken place, the stadium around Jaime burst to life as audience members began to make their exit down to the track to meet with and congratulate the athletes they had come to support. Beside him, Don, Meloni, Barry and Iris stood from their seats and gathered up their belongings, preparing to go congratulate Bart and Wally on their wins in today’s events.

“You should come with us, Jaime,” Meloni suggested when Jaime didn’t stand up with the rest of them.

Immediately, a stone sank in the college student’s stomach. What would Bart think if he saw Jaime with his parents? He and Bart hadn’t even met yet. How would Jaime be able to explain if Bart’s parents brought up the boyfriend issue?

Reluctantly, Jaime got up to follow the two couples down to the track. He was sweat-dropping. He really hoped Bart’s parents wouldn’t make things awkward.

As soon as he was in range, Don slung an arm around his son’s shoulders, congratulating him on his multiple wins. Meloni also smothered Bart in a hug when she got her opportunity, cooing over how well he had done. Beside them, Barry and Iris were doing much of the same to their nephew, expressing their awe of Wally’s endurance in the long-distance events. Meanwhile, Jaime stood awkwardly by, waiting for a chance to hopefully have a chat with his not-so-mysterious caller.

When the Allens finally separated from their son, Jaime locked eyes with Bart. There was a glint in those green irises that Jaime couldn’t place. It wasn’t good or bad per say; Jaime could only describe it as making him feel on edge, ready to tip one way or the other.

As soon as Meloni noticed the stare between the two boys, she immediately turned on Bart, much to Jaime’s horror.

“Bart! Why haven’t you introduced us to your boyfriend? He’s such a handsome young man.” She used an insistant hand to push Jaime forward, so much so that he almost stumbled and fell into the chest of his supposed “boyfriend”. Luckily, Bart’s hands came up and caught him by the biceps before that could happen.

Both his and Bart’s eyes widened. Pink burned hot on each of their cheeks. Jaime took a quick step back. He felt like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Well?” Don goaded. “Don’t be shy! I’m glad to see my son’s finally been able to put the Allen-family charm to use! How long have you two been together?”

Jaime could feel the color in his cheeks getting darker by the second. Bart was still giving him this weird look, as if it weren’t his parents who had instigated this whole conversation in the first place. The prolonged awkward eye contact was making Jaime uneasy, and he was tempted to just speak up and shut down Bart’s parent’s idea about him and their son being in a relationship, but before he had the chance, Bart was clearing his throat to speak.

The track star raised a hand to the back of his neck, and Jaime had to do a double-take at the innocent “embarrassed” façade he was now putting on. “Well,” he said, playing bashful, “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, Babe.”

Jaime’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates upon hearing the pet name. Bart was just going to go along with this?!

Without preamble, the redhead slung his arm around Jaime’s shoulders, crushing him into his side in a display of “affection” for his parents’ benefit. “Jaime’s a little shy,” Bart said, when Jaime failed to fill in the silence. “He wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I’m actually a little surprised he came to the track meet today.”

Bart subtly bumped Jaime’s hip with his own, which was a cue for him to talk. It took a moment for the raven-haired boy to scramble for a response. He would play along... for now.

“I had to see if you were as good as you were making yourself out to be,” Jaime had noticed Bart’s encoded message; he hadn’t expected Jaime to take his phone call seriously and show up. Jaime was giving his own back in return (I had to discover who the annoying caller was).

Bart chuckled. “Would I ever lie to you?”

Jaime had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Now the guy was just laying it on thick.

“Of course not, Chiquito.” The pet name came out from behind clenched teeth.

Luckily, Mel and Donny seemed to buy their act. When it was clear they were in the clear, Bart asked, “Mom, Dad, is it okay if I have a few minutes alone with my boyfriend?”

Meloni and Don shared a look before Don said, “Okay. But no hankey-pankey behind the bleachers!” He waved a finger at them, teasing smile in place over his lips.

Jaime felt himself going pink. “Of course not, Sir,” he managed to get out, in spite of how mixed up this situation had gotten.

Bart grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him a little ways down the track so that they were out of Meloni and Don’s hearing range. As soon as he had the opportunity, Jaime whirled on him.

“What the hell was that back there, ese?” Jaime hissed.

Bart shrugged. “They bought it, didn’t they?”

Jaime felt his eyes narrow into a glare. “Why didn’t you correct them?”

Bart did another shrug, this time with a knowing expression on his face. “It’s not like you said anything either.”

Jaime’s glare fell apart under the truthful accusation. It was his fault for not immediately shutting down the idea when Don had first brought it up to him in the stands.

Bart placed his hands on his hips and began rocking back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels. “In all honesty, I’m actually surprised you showed up.”

Jaime emulated Bart’s pose, resting a fist against his hip and gesturing with the other. “Well, I couldn’t risk you calling back during my segment tonight and accusing me of being a liar in front of my entire audience, now could I?”

Bart tilted his head in such a way that Jaime had to repress the thought of ‘Oh, that’s cute,’ before it accidentally slipped out of his mouth.

A faint pink blush rose to Bart’s cheeks. “I guess I did kind of back you into a corner, didn’t I?” He raised a hand to the back of his neck, and it was the moment that Jaime realized Bart was genuinely sorry for having done so. While he may have wanted Jaime to show up today, it was clear now that he wouldn’t have used Jaime’s absence as blackmail against him if he had decided not to show.

Not wanting Bart to feel guilty, Jaime shrugged it off. “No es gran cosa.”

A smile worked its way onto Bart’s mouth. “I have no idea what that means, but I’m guessing by the look on your face, you’re not actually all that bothered by it.”

Jaime sighed. “Well, besides inviting me here so I can tell you how much I hate granting your High School Musical requests every night, what exactly is the reason?”

Bart scoffed. “I can’t believe you had the audacity to say that to my face!” He was trying to deliver the line seriously, but the smile on his lips told Jaime that he wasn’t actually offended.

Jaime shrugged, a small smirk working its way onto his own lips. “What can I say? Disney Channel movies are cheesy, and their sound tracks are even worse.”

Bart chuckled. “Your music is too depressing. You need something more upbeat. Less lyrics about death, sad childhoods, and oppression. ‘We’re All in this Together’, right ah-me-go?”

Jaime cringed, both at Bart’s pronunciation and at the stereotypes. His music was more complex than what Bart was making it out to be. Besides, Jaime wasn’t here to argue anyway. Bart had invited him to this track meeting with ulterior motives, and Jaime was determined to figure out what they were.

“Not all of my music is depressing,” Jaime countered. “Besides, you ignored my question. Surely you had some kind of motive in inviting me here besides to just discuss your terrible music taste. I want to know what it is.” Jaime raised both eyebrows.

An unexpected pink blush rose to Bart’s cheeks, covering up the freckles sprayed like paint across his Caucasian skin. “I wanted you to notice me.” Jaime nearly missed the words, for they came out of Bart’s mouth in a whisper.

“You wanted me to notice you?” He repeated the statement, hoping for a bit of an explanation.

Bart’s blush deepened, skin in competition with his hair for reddest feature. His green eyes were piercing the ground, seemingly in an effort to burn a hole big enough to burry himself in to avoid such embarrassment. His fingers twisted harshly against one another. His whole aura had changed from the confident runner he had been on the track to nervous schoolboy.

“We’re in the same physics class.” Bart’s sneaker kicked up a puff of dirt as he ground his toe into the sand.

Jaime blinked. He’d never seen anyone like Bart in his physics class. Was he that non-observant that he had missed him?

“I-I usually sit behind you.” It sounded like Bart was struggling to admit something difficult. Usually Jaime was the shyer one in conversations, so he completely understood what it felt like having to lead a difficult conversation. But he wanted to get to the bottom of this. Bart was on the edge of a confession, and Jaime had to know what it was.

“I noticed how a-attractive—” Bart’s blush deepened yet again— “you were pretty much as soon as I laid eyes on you. I-I wanted to get to know you better, so I asked around a little. Turns out Cassie’s a mutual friend of ours. She told me a little bit about you, from working with you at the radio station, and I did a little bit of research on my own. I looked you up on the school website. I started calling in to your station. I kept asking Cassie if she could find out more about you for me. Your favorite color, food, movie... Any hobbies, or things you like. I started piecing together this picture of you in my mind, using our conversations on the phone to confirm or deny my theories about you. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was desperate for you to notice me, so I started dropping hints on the phone, hoping you would take an interest. But you didn’t. And I-I can understand if-if you don’t feel the same way but IthinkIaccidentlyfellinlovewithyou.”

Jaime blinked hard. “¿Qué?” That last bit had left Bart’s mouth in an unintelligible jumble of sounds. Had Bart just admitted he was in love with him?

When Jaime snapped out of his confusion and looked back at Bart, he saw that the track star was struggling to hold back tears. A salty droplet fell from his chin and landed on the ground between them, creating a dark spot in the dirt. His shoulders were trembling with the effort to not let out a cry.

Guilt settled hard in Jaime’s stomach, like a boulder being dropped into a lake. The aftershocks were still rippling through his system. The pieces were slowly coming together.

Bart was in love with him, and wanted the feeling to be mutual. He had called in to Jaime’s radio station, hoping that he could get Jaime to take an interest in him. He wanted Jaime to pursue him, that way he would know for sure that Jaime felt the same way. And Jaime had taken an interest; he’d just done a poor job at showing it.

Hesitantly, Jaime reached a hand forward in an effort to get Bart to look up at him. “Por favor, no llores. Lo siento, I-”

Bart took a step back, angrily wiping his tears away with his fists. “No. I-it’s stupid. I built this idea of you up in my head, and it’s probably not who you are at all. I was just desperate and wanted you to like me back. And I know that me calling you every night was probably annoying and that you probably aren’t even into guys-”

Jaime surged forward, grabbing onto the other boy’s bicep with one hand and cupping his cheek with the other, and did something that surprised himself probably even more than it surprised Bart.

Bart froze, teary eyes wide in shock as Jaime’s lips smashed against his own. He was too surprised to react.

As soon as Jaime realized what he had done, he pulled back, blushing madly. Despite his embarrassment however, he couldn’t help the truth that fell from his lips.

“I am.” When Bart still looked confused, Jaime rushed to clarify. “Into guys. Into... you. I’m bisexual.” He raised a hand to nervously rub at the short raven hairs along the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly.

Bart seemed to snap out of his stupor. “You’re into me? I didn’t think you were interested. I thought you only came today because I was blackmailing you.”

Jaime’s awkward laugh turned amused. “If you think I showed up today because of your so-called ‘blackmail’, you need a new definition for the word.” He moved his hand from his neck, slipping it into his pocket to pull out his notebook. Jaime flipped it to the page where he had taken down all of the little clues Bart had given to him over the phone and turned the book around to show it to the track star. Bart’s green eyes widened slowly as he read over all of Jaime’s scrupulously written notes.

“I wrote down everything you told me about yourself.”

Bart’s gaze slowly ascended from the page, an awed look in his eyes. Hastily, Jaime closed the notebook and placed it back in his pocket. He shifted his weight from foot to foot in consideration before finally saying, “I’d like a chance to get to know you. I want to give us—” Jaime used a finger to gesture between himself and Bart— “a chance. If that’s... crash?” He tested out the word he’d heard Bart use during a few of their phone calls.

The redhead’s face lit up like a child’s after receiving a piece of candy. “Yeah! That’s totally crash! When are you free?”

“Uh-” Jaime pulled out his phone to check his calendar, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

“Time to get this show on the road, Kiddos.” When Jaime looked up to see who the hand belonged to, he saw Bart’s father standing between them, his other hand grasping onto his son’s shoulder. “Who knows what you two would get up to if Mel and I left you alone any longer.” Don playfully shook his head, before turning the eyes Bart had inherited from him on his son. “Your mother and I were college sweethearts, too. We know what kind of things kids your age get up to.”

Both Bart and Jaime blushed at the implications.

“Dad!” Bart groaned in embarrassment.

Don chuckled, as if it were all in a day’s work embarrassing his son. He turned to Jaime. “We usually go out as a family after track meets to celebrate. Everyone’ll be there. It’s a good opportunity for Bart to introduce you to the family. If you’re up for going, Jaime?”

The raven-haired student shared a look with his boyfriend? friend? person-he-thought-was-very-attractive-but-wanted-to-get-to-know-a-little-better-before-dating? Bart shrugged.

Jaime felt put on the spot. He and Bart had just discussed the possibility of beginning a relationship, and now he was supposed to meet the ‘rents? Not that he hadn’t already, but that was beside the point. Going out for a meal with Bart’s parents, grandparents, cousin and who-knows-who-else, and having to pretend that he’s madly in love with someone he was just meeting for the first time today? This had the potential to kill any chances he and Bart had at actually beginning a real relationship.

“I’m sorry, I already have plans,” was what Jaime wanted to say. Instead, he said, “Sure. I’d love to get to meet your family, Cariño.”

“Good evening, Tigers! You’re listening to Houston U’s nightly segment. I’m your host, Jaime Reyes-”

“-and his amazing boyfriend, Bart Allen-”

Jaime had to stifle an ‘oomph!’ as his boyfriend of three glorious months slung an arm around his neck and plopped down on his lap, leaning in close to the microphone so that he could be heard, too.

“-Next up we have ‘Flourescent Adolescence’ by Arctic Monkeys-”

“-And after that, ‘I Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’ from High School Musical!” Bart slammed a finger into the ‘play’ button, starting the next song in the queue, before swinging his leg around so he could straddle Jaime’s lap and drag him into a kiss.

When they pulled apart, Jaime had a pout on his lips. “Who let you in here?” Bart wasn’t supposed to be in the studio, especially when Jaime was live on the air.

The younger smirked deviously. “Cassie might have loned me her key so that I could pay my boyfriend a visit while he was working...”

Jaime shook his head. “Of course she did.”

Bart booped his nose with a fingertip. “Don’t act so put out. You know you looooove me.”

Jaime shook his head, trying to keep a poker face. “Nope. You just tainted my reputation by saying that we’re gonna play High School Musical songs voluntarily. How could I love someone who would pull such a slanderous act against me?”

Bart poked his nose again. “You looooove me.”

Jaime shook his head. His lips threatened to quirk up into a smile. His poker face was cracking. “Nope.”

Bart hovered his lips dangerously close to Jaime’s own. “Admit it, Babe. You love me more than anyone in the world.”

Jaime’s mask crumbled. “Yeah,” he finally admitted. “Te amo con todo mi corazón.” He pulled Bart that little inch forward to kiss him again.

Unfortunately the phone cut their loving moment shorter than either boy wanted. Jaime picked it up.

“Hello, fellow Tiger! You’re on-air with Houston U’s nightly segment. Care to introduce yourself to all the listeners out there?”

“Yeah, Jaime, it’s Gar. I’m glad to hear that you finally found yourself a good partner, but next time you might want to make sure your mic is off before making any declarations of love while you’re live.”

Crimson bloomed to life across the entirety of his face while Gar hung up on the other end of the line. Immediately, the radio host leaned forward and flicked off the switch to his microphone. Jaime buried his face in his hands.

“I hate you!” He directed at Bart in an embarrassed moan.

Bart chuckled. “Nah. You looooove me.”

Here it finally is @purple--waffles! I’m so sorry it took me so long! I’ve been slowly working on it since the day your request arrived in my asks. Life is crazy, and I haven’t had a whole lot of time to write recently, but I really wanted to finish this for you. My mind ran with the prompt, and even though it took me awhile, hopefully the length makes up for it??? Maybe? Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

[dayurno]

this is kind of obvious but 😭 1 + kevineil

send me a kiss and i’ll write a short fic based on it 

husbands kevineil w a baby for u tania. in case u were having a bad day <3

1 — Small kisses littered across the other’s face.

"Neil."

"Kevin."

"Neil."

Neil sighs. "Yes, Kevin?"

From the other side of the room, with Dan's youngest in his arms, Kevin returns the sigh with almost twice as much flare. "This — this is what they were talking about when they said men are the worst. I take care of the children all day while you sit and watch TV."

"They are not our children, Kevin," Neil replies, not looking up from where he'd been switching channels mindlessly. "And you've been saying that for years now. No one asks you to babysit; you do it because you love it."

While gently swaying the half-asleep toddler across the living room, Kevin manages to glare in Neil's direction. "We are their godfathers. It's our duty."

"You are their godfather," Neil corrects, finally looking up to meet Kevin's eyes, "and I am your husband. I was not named godfather."

"Everyone knows that it's by association."

"You're making things up."

Kevin scoffs, but doesn't try to deny it. With his palm resting protectively over the toddler's nape, he prompts, "I want a baby."

Neil sighs, longsuffering. "You always say that. You don't want a baby — you want a niece, which is different."

"And I already have one!" Kevin protests in a yell-whisper. "I still want a baby. Two, even."

"Kevin, you don't want children."

"You don't tell me what I want," he informs, pointing an accusatory finger towards Neil.

Biting down on a chuckle, Neil points out, "You say you want a baby almost as much as you say you want a divorce. That's why I don't believe you."

Kevin huffs, but, once again, does not disagree. He takes the spot next to Neil on the couch, still rocking his godchild with the ease of someone who's done this a thousand times before and going as far as humming something under his breath while the baby slowly but surely falls into a deep slumber, huge brown eyes closing as her head drops to Kevin's shoulder. It's unbearably endearing, even just the sight of them, and Neil has to look away to convince himself that neither he or Kevin want children.

"She's so small," Neil murmurs, leaning closer to peek over Kevin's shoulder. "How terrifying. The destroy button is in the head, too. How's that a good idea?"

"The what?" Kevin asks, no louder than a whisper. "Don't say that when you're near Matt or Dan. I'll kill you if you do it. This time I swear I'll kill you."

Neil offers him a lopsided grin. "No, I only say it to my lovely husband."

In spite of himself, Kevin's eye roll is fond and, dare Neil say, perhaps even flattered. He leans back against Neil's side as if second nature, back brushing over Neil's chest, and quietly points out, "We could have ten kids. An Exy team — think about it. Like Brad and Angelina. And we'd teach them how to dream." He brushes a stray lock of barely-there hair from the toddler's forehead. "Or something."

"Or something," Neil softly agrees, darting his eyes to Kevin's mouth so he wouldn't have to deal with the unrelenting tenderness of his eyes. Neil props an arm around Kevin's shoulders before leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. "Ten kids is too much. Try less."

"Seven," Kevin murmurs back.

Neil leans closer to press a kiss to his cheekbone. "Still too many."

"Five," he tries again, tipping his head closer to give Neil better access.

"Too many, Kevin," Neil repeats, trailing kisses down Kevin's cheek before craning his neck to drag his mouth through the very bump of Kevin's nose.

"Baby," Kevin quietly tries, turning his head around to be face to face with Neil, "three. Come on. Three makes sense."

"'Baby' won't work on me," Neil lies, closing his eyes to press a long, drawn out kiss to Kevin's forehead. "We can barely take care of our plants."

"Neil," he complains, carrying no heat to it, "yes, we do. They're all alive."

Neil puts a hand on his chin to turn his face to the side, leaning over Kevin's chest to pepper kisses over his other cheek, a diaspora of them littered over Kevin's face. "A baby is not a house plant."

"Darling."

He chuckles under his breath, careful to be silent and not ruin all of Kevin's hard work used to make the baby sleep. "Darling won't work on me either."

Neil presses one brief kiss to Kevin's mouth before pulling away. Kevin softly huffs, "I'm filling those divorce papers the second we arrive home. I'm serious."

A half-hearted, empty threat both know Kevin is not capable of fulfilling. Neil hums in understandment, using the arm around Kevin's shoulder to bring him closer, and replies, "I better start learning how to live without you, then. Who's going to tell me that I organize the pantry all wrong, hm?"

Kevin softly shakes his head, dark hair brushing against Neil's chin as he settles on his side with the baby on his arms, but doesn't say anything. It comes implied that the answer is no one — no one can do for Neil what Kevin does, and vice-versa. They are too native of each other to ever belong to someone else.

Neil settles on a channel, tossing the remote aside. Halfway through a random sitcom episode, he hears it more than he feels it when Kevin dozes off, clutching his godchild to his chest like a little teddy bear and letting his head drop against Neil's shoulder, mouth wide open in a noiseless snore.

Two, Neil thinks, is a good number. Both of children and Exy players.

[hyunsracha]

for your entertainment — han jisung

word count: 2.3k

summary: jisung panics when he sees cute people. he also stares at them.

so you work at an entertainment store right

where ppl can buy like uhhh movies and albums n merch n stuff!!

u like ur job.. it’s one of the least popular stores in the mall so u spend most of ur time organizing and reorganizing with one earbud in listening to music

u have to wear a boring grey t-shirt as uniform so u spice things up by making the rest of u look good

everyone else does the same thing i mean … ur manager lia wears purple eyeshadow ok

ur other manager chris doesn’t even try to look good! and it’s so fucking annoying u wanna knock his fuck 24/7

random girl: hehe<3 can i have ur number?

chris: only if u sign up for our rewards program<3

u, angry bc u haven’t sold any rewards programs in a week: >:(

ur other two co-workers are hyunjin and jeongin.

hyunjin has a pretty popular youtube dancer cover channel, but for Copyright Reasons it’s not paying the bills

and jeongin is a senior in high school and this is his first job and u just wanna pinch his little cheeks every time u work together

“y/n i swear to god i’m gonna punch u and get fired rn stop POKING MY CHEEKS-”

“he’s just a little baby…*to passing customer* LOOK AT THE BABY!”

“>:(((“

so it’s a tuesday night.

tuesday nights are the fucking best (worst if u love talking to ppl) bc u’ll get like … 2 customers in 4 hours?

it’s 8pm and the mall closes at 9

usually u start vacuuming at 8:30 but at like 7:50 chris was like “GET THE FUCKING VACUUM WE’RE CLOSING RN !!”

jeongin: u do it.

u: no u do it bitch.

jeongin: *sticks out his fist*

u sigh and do rock paper scissors like the baby wants.

and u lose

u fucking lose

and jeongin just cackles, sitting down on the stool behind the registers

so u trudge to the back room and the vacuum, grumbling about how ur older so jeongin should be doing this!!

but it’s fine!

so you’re vacuuming right.

and in storms Han Jisung

yes han jisung is the kinda dude to come to the mall right before closing and go on a shopping spree

he’s got his best friend lee minho in tow, who does Not look happy to be here.

“come on minho!! i need to get season 4 of naruto to finish my collection!!” jisung whines, pulling on his friend’s arm as he stands on his tiptoes to look for the anime section.

“can you keep your voice down?? i have an image, yanno.”

“minho you’re literally here to buy a kelly clarkson album.”

minho grumbles and waddles off towards the cds, where you are...vacuuming...loudly

and minho’s like -____- why are u so fucking loud

like u don’t MEAN to be loud?? but it’s a VACUUM??

so minho’s looking for his beloved kelly clarkson album right,

and jisung comes around the corner, season 4 of naruto in tow.

and he sees you

and nearly drops it

jisung gets crushes very easily okay..

he can’t help it! the boy loves to love (◕‿◕)♡

and u look so cute in ur lil t-shirt!! like a little retail angel!!

so he grabs minho’s arm and DRAGS HIM TO where the movies are

and he panics!

“THEY’RE SO CUTE AAH I WANNA GIVE THEM A BIG FAT HUG-”

“do you mean the person vacuuming -__- loud as hell”

“minho it’s a vacuum.”

so you stop vacuuming and return the vacuum to the back room (and wash ur hands in the bathroom bc the soap smells like lemons and sunshine) and come back to the floor

u have a ton of time until closing so u just. sit.. and start reorganizing the heavy metal albums.

after a while u feel … weird … like ur being watched

so u turn around and. there they are. staring like (・_・)

and ur like “HELLO?!?!” but u don’t say anything

u just give them a Customer Service Smile and a, “can i help you with anything?”

jisung just giggles and shakes his head and minho keeps fuckign staring

mr lee i will knock ur fuck is that what u want

so u shrug and go back to ur sorting, keeping an eye on the CREEPS in ur store.

at 8:55 chris is like “jeongin go close the gate.” n jeongin’s like “FUCK YEAH” bc he gets to hold a big stick

so he’s walking towards the front of the store with his Big Stick when he sees jisung and minho

“what da hell are y’all doing?” is what he thinks but he says, “(: hi! the store closes in five minutes and i’m about to close the front gate. i’m so sorry, but you have to leave now! :)”

so jisung pouts and minho rolls his eyes, dragging his friend out of the store.

jeongin uses his Big Stick to pull the gate down and he locks it at about mid calf level so y’all can get out.

so that night, u go home and do some homework, but ur still thinking about those weirdos.

but! u’ll probably never see them again!

right?

Wrong.

u see them the next day!

they’re still watching u, but they’re closer

and minho looks more irritated.

towards the end of the night, ur Upset and Confused so u go over to them like o_o. What do u want.

and jisung goes JISJSJHTIE

and minho goes, “jisung thinks you’re cute.”

u start to blush, but jisung squeaks, “NO ahah- uh- he likes to talk in third person! he’s jisung ahaha.”

“my name is not jisung i would Hate to be named jisung.”

“WH- why? there’s a soccer player named jisung. and an idol! multiple idols!”

“yeah the guy in nct is 2 years younger than you and has the same name. and what have You done successfully? Quickly-”

“HEY-”

the two boys in front of u bicker while u start zoning out at the wall behind them.

you knew that the boy with blue hair was jisung, but you didn’t know the one with brown hair. and you assumed that they were friends, judging by the .. bonding activity that is staring at an employee.

and jisung wasn’t …. ugly

like he was really … really cute

but staring at people is fucking weird, jisung!!

when u finally snap out of it, u huff, “okay losers. we are closing soon. so you have to leave. but you’re welcome to come back tomorrow if you’re going to actually talk to me and not just stand in the corner! okay?”

the boys nod, grinning at each other before dashing out of the store.

so, like u said, they’re back the next day!

and this time they actually talk to u! Wow!

you’re sitting on the floor in the back of the store, organizing the funko pops for the 70th time when you feel A Presence.

two, actually.

it’s the two boys, sitting on either side of u.

“hi,” jisung says, playing with his fingers in his lap.

“you’re jisung, right? the cute one..” u reply absentmindedly

u hear a choking sound and then Silence

miss jisung ? miss JISUNG ?

he’s alive, but jfc BARELY

u just called him the CUTE ONE?!?!?

paying no mind, u turn to the boy on ur right, “and you are?”

“lee minho. don’t worry, you won’t forget it.”

“was that supposed to be a pick-up line?”

“did it work?”

“no.”

“HAH!” and jisung’s alive again.

u spend the rest of ur shift talking to the boys, telling them all about ur life while they told u about theirs

u learned that minho was a dancer just like hyunjin! but he went to the nearby university to study.

and that’s where he met jisung, who’s a music composition major

...and a soundcloud rapper…

u could help the laugh that pushed past ur lips at his words

“WHY ARE U LAUGHING.”

“a SoundCloud rapper. really, sung?”

“IT’S COOL ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞ”

u couldn’t imagine him as a ‘cool’ rapper dude

he just looked so fluffy :(

at 8:55, the boys got kicked out by jeongin again, but they stood outside the gate, waiting for u

“What do y’all want.”

“i wanna walk u to ur car:(“

“i don’t.”

“ok minho then Leave.”

“NO DON’T he’s my ride don’t say that to him.”

it’s dark outside, and a warm wind blows through ur hair.

it’s late spring, with summer (and finals) fast approaching.

“walking me to my car...what a gentleman…”

“yeah that’s why you should totally go on a date with me haha.”

“what?”

“what?”

“you said-”

“i didn’t say anything.”

minho sighs from behind u, not understanding why his best friend has to be so damn stupid all the time

u lean on ur driver’s side door, not making eye contact with the boy

u didn’t know how to say bye..no one’s ever walked u to ur car before??

“so…” jisung speaks for u, “can i … have your number? so i don’t show up at the store when you’re not working.” he holds his phone out for u to take, a sheepish smile barely visible due to the lights in the parking lot.

“oh! totally.” you take the phone from him, jolting when ur fingers graze his. u set ur contact as ‘the person sungie likes to stare at~” before giving it back to him.

he chuckles at the name, and u feel something inside of u go DOKIDOKI

when he says goodnight and walks away, minho giving u a quick nod, u lock urself in ur car so u can PANIC

u barely know this boy. he’s a weirdo. why is ur heart going dokidoki

heart STOP IT!!

it only gets worse when u hear the text notification sound from ur phone:

[ unknown ]: do u work tmrw? (^_−)☆ i already miss u

…. frick …. he texts cute

dammit jisung why couldn’t u send the laughing emoji

[ y/n ]: i do ! ^.^ i’ll see u then?

[ creeper ]: wouldn’t miss it~ (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ goodnight!

u nearly slam ur head on the steering wheel.

true to his word, jisung was back the next day

and the day after that

and the day after that

the day after That, u were off, so u didn’t see him

but u guys texted nearly all day!

jisung was just … really easy to talk to :/

and really funny :/

and every time he giggled u just wanted to cry a little bit :/

and u feel like a CLOWN bc u have a CRUSH on this dude that hangs out with u at WORK

one day, ur at work, and jisung isn't there:((

u feel a little dumb being upset about it, but u were starting to get used to the little guy

“somebody looks like a sad clown.”

“hyunjin~” u whine.

“oh no. that’s the boy problems whine. uhhh suddenly i’m on break!” he tries to stand and walk away, but u pull him back down next to u.

see, u and hyunjin were pretty close.

u two are the same age and watch the same dramas.

and ur both super dramatic

which is WHY when u got ur heart broken by lee donghyuck a few months after u started working there, he was ur shoulder to cry - and complain - on.

“stop :( there was this boy who came in every day and talked to me and he’s super cute but he’s not here today and i miss him :(“

hyunjin just …. stared at u like …. wtf are u talking about

“do you have his number?”

“yes.”

“have you texted him to ask why he’s not here today?”

“...no…”

“(；￣Д￣) Y/N U FUCKIN FOOL!!! U ABSOLUTE IMBECILE!!!”

“STOP YELLING AT ME HWANG HYUNJIN I’LL DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU LOVE!”

a customer standing in front of the register, trying to buy some headphones: uh.. should i go?

u make hyunjin deal with the customer while u sneak out ur phone to text jisung

[ y/n ]: where are u . no one is here 2 annoy me today (except hyunjin but he doesn’t count)

u wait 5 minutes … no reply

10 minutes … no reply

an hour … no reply

“WAAAAA ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡ HYUNJIN ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡”

hyunjin, handing a poor lady her receipt: jesus fucking christ

ur sulking as u leave the store that night

u still feel dumb, but now ur too Sad to feel dumb

u press the lock button on ur car keys so the lights would come on and the horn would sound, telling u where ur car was

“OH FUCK- jesus...stupid car…”

….that’s not what ur car horn sounds like.

u slowly approach, holding ur keys in between ur fingers

ur not afraid to stab a bitch with ur mail key and that’s on wolverine.

u breathe a sigh of Relief when u see it’s just jisung leaning against ur door

wait

jisung

“jisung?” u voice ur thoughts

his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, “yeah..hi..sorry i didn’t text you back. i nearly backed out of doing this and i didn’t wanna look stupid.”

“you look stupid all the time.”

“jeez, thanks.”

u cross ur arms, stepping closer to the boy, “back out of what?”

“well i uh- do you remember how minho said i think you’re cute on the first day we talked?”

you nod.

“well...that hasn’t changed. i think you’re cute...really cute, actually.”

you blush again, just like the first time, “what does me being cute have to do with you standing in front of my car?”

“well, i don’t have a car, so i’m hoping...you can drive when we go on our first date?”

your heart nearly stops, but you start to smile.

“han jisung, are you asking me out?”

“are you saying yes?”

“yes.”

“then yeah. i am.”

your smile only gets wider as you close the gap between you two, wrapping your arms around his middle. he pats your head, a chuckle vibrating under your ear.

“also i need a ride home. minho dropped me off.”

“*sigh* jisung…”

[sweetiejunie]

Dating Kai includes:

A list of what i think it would be like to date this precious bean ☆ lmk if i missed out anything ☆

Genre: fluff

Kai x reader

—.*•—

Dating includes: Yeonjun | Taehyun | Soobin | Beomgyu

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

The most wholesome and innocent relationship you can think of

He is a cinnamon roll, no one can fight me on this

He’s going to love you with everything he has to offer

Probably too timid to call you any pet names but likes to call you by your nickname instead

Shares all his plushies with you and probably tells you all their names and where he got them

If he ever annoyed you, you could literally hold one of his toys hostage and that would enough for Kai to start whining

Sometimes you wonder if he loves his plushies more than you

He’s the type to ask where’s his phone and make you search with him when it’s in his hand. U know, when you lose something without losing it cause same

He’ll be the smartest and dumbest person you’ve ever met and you love him for that

Jamming to old 2010 songs together. You would literally have an entire shared playlist dedicated to this

Watching old disney channel shows together. One night the two of you would be having a high school musical marathon and sing along to every song, pretending to be troy and gabriella. The next night it would be a camp rock marathon and so on

Watching horror movies with him would turn into you laughing at him instead of actually getting frightened because every little jump-scare Kai would be screaming and probably hiding underneath the blankets huddled up next to you

If you heard the ice cream man outside your house, both of you would be racing and pushing each other to see who could get there first. He would pick up from behind and plop you back on the couch and run out himself. But when he came back he probably has one for you too

Loves bringing you on little ice cream dates if you just had nothing better to do with your day

So cute and bubbly when he wants to go do something or wants something he’ll ask you in the sweetest voice that you can’t say no to

Every once in a while he would rent bicycles for you and ask you to meet him at the park “tada! We’re going cycling today!”

Doesn’t mind when you steal food from him and in fact really likes sharing food with you so next time the both of you would probably order 2 mains to share

He’ll be so embarrassed if you ever kissed him or showed any skinship that’s more than holding his hand in front of others but on the inside he would be so happy and overjoyed

His whole face would turn red and his members started pointing it out, making him even more flustered cause they’ll be all like “awwww our ningning is growing up!”

But when you were alone you wouldn’t be able to pry him off you

Gives you shy chaste kisses every now and then

When you went out together, he would always link your pinkies and swing your arms

If he knew you had something important coming up, expect little encouraging messages from him like ‘you can do this!!♡(＾▽＾)♡ i love so much!’

Talking to each other in another language if you ever wanted to say something but didn’t want the other members to know. Of course, eventually they would still find out what you said

Holding hands in bed because he’s too shy to ask you to cuddle instead

Bringing him food and sweets and having the other members complain that you didn’t bring them any

Studying with him is a pain cause every 5 minutes he’s trying to get your attention instead of finishing his assignment

Dramatic Kai throwing himself on the floor whenever you do something remotely cute but when the other members start gushing over how cute you were too that’s where he draws the line

The two of you would start having a contest to see who can be cuter cause according to kai ‘only he can be the cute one in txt’

Talking shit about him with the other members but it’s okay cause you love him and you do it just to tease him

This boy may be immature and child-like at times but he’s gonna show you that he loves you with everything he has. He just hopes you accept his heart and don’t break it. I honestly wont hesitate to fight anyone who dares to hurt him.

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

Dont rly have a note in mind for this, just hope you liked it!!❣️

Masterlist

[theotherackerman]

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan.

NOTES: New Year’s Eve. Thursday, December 31st

Trigger warning: mentions of self harm and suicide.

song credit: monsters by all time low featuring blackbear. Eren is specially singing the verse done by blackbear

song Mikasa and Eren dance to: lights out-harry styles

movie mentioned: se7en, an extremely graphic horror movie

CHAPTER TWO: why do all the monsters come out at night?

Levi was always right about these things.

He had yet to be proven wrong by Mikasa’s friends.

He couldn’t help but laugh when he passed by her room to see them all three asleep. Ymir and Armin were still holding video game controllers asleep on the floor while Mikasa was asleep on her bed. All three of them were still fully dressed.

“Just admit that you’ve missed them,” Hange remarked as they leaned up against the wall.

“They’re alright...for brats.”

He remembered the days of his house being filled with Mikasa’s friends. First, it had just been Eren and Armin. Then came Ymir, Sasha, Historia, and Annie. There was never a silent day. They had always been running around, making noise, and making music. He could hear Eren tuning his guitar while Mikasa played the note of the piano for him to match.

Eren had disappointed him. Mikasa and Eren had been sixteen when Eren had asked to talk to Levi privately.

“Can I date your cousin? I mean, not that I should be asking you but she’s….well you scare me, sir. I mean that with the utmost respect.”

“Oh. It’s not me you have to worry about. If you hurt her, Mikasa...she’ll cut you to the bone herself. I’ll be the one making it look like an accident.”

“Is that a yes, sir?”

“Don’t ask me, I don’t make her decisions,” Levi scoffed.

He had liked Eren at that moment. He had liked him up until Mikasa had come home crying only to lock herself away in her bedroom. He didn’t know what to do at that moment. He had thought a bout just going over and being the man he had been before he was a soldier. The boy who got into street fights, who stole, and those were just the things he was willing to admit to. But that was not who he was now. No, he was someone different.

So instead, he called up a favor that Rod Reiss owed him. Historia and Ymir had been the first to arrive followed shortly by Annie and Sasha.

He had never felt so powerless.

When his mother and Kenny had died, those were both things he could understand. He understood Mikasa’s heartbreak but there was nothing to warn him about it. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had told Eren four years earlier that he couldn’t date Mikasa….no. It wasn’t his place.

“It is okay to miss her. You took care of her for thirteen years now. I think it’d be strange if you didn’t,” Hange replied softly pulling Levi from his thoughts.

“She’s got to live her own life now. I won’t hold her back but...I have missed her.”

Hange smiled as they moved closer and kissed Levi on the cheek.

“Tch,” he replied before he walked towards the bedroom.

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

Eren sat by the window overlooking the lake. He liked that Zeke lived near the water. It reminded him of that time he had convinced his dad to give him the car for the weekend. He had grabbed Armin and Mikasa, driven through the night so they could see the sun rise at the beach.

Maybe that’s why Eren liked it here so much.

Memories of an easier time.

A time where he was truly free.

Not dreaming of dying and taking his own life.

He had recovered from that.

It had been the only reason he had ever said those things to Mikasa and Armin.

He needed to push them away.

He needed them to hate him.

It would have made it easier for him to take his own life.

But in the end, he hadn’t.

Zeke had saved him.

Something he was thankful for as he sat here watching the lake.

But the problem was he had to now deal with the consequences of saying those things.

He had never seen himself surviving.

The drinking had slowly been poisoning him.

That had been the plan.

Harm his body until it didn’t work anymore.

Make the pain stop.

The pain from Grisha.

The pain of realizing he was just like his father and he would do to Mikasa what his father did to his mother.

He could still hear them arguing.

The waves lapped at the rocks surrounding the lake.

Months of therapy and medication had turned Eren from a suicidal mess to someone who could now focus all his energy into his music.

“Have you thought about talking to the Ackerman girl? I truly think you made a mistake, Eren. You’re not our father. You never have been. Why don’t you try talking to her?” Zeke asked before taking a drag from his cigarette.

Eren sighed.

He missed Mikasa more than he could put into words.

He hadn’t dated anyone since, he didn’t know if he could have those feelings for anyone else. Maybe with time. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a black corded necklace. Two rings hung from it. One, he had planned to give Mikasa hung from it. He looked down at them before stuffing it back into his shirt.

“She’s better off.”

Mikasa had chosen not to return his letter so he knew that was his answer to the question he had posed for her.

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

It was the morning of New Year’s Eve.

Sasha had stopped by the Ackerman household surprising both Ymir and Mikasa.

“Armin?” Sasha looked from him to Ymir and Mikasa.

“It’s cool. He’s fine unless he’s supposed to watch for you during a match and he lets you get sniped!”

“One time, Ymir. One time.”

“That’s all it took! Now I’m back in silver.”

“Why are there brats yelling in my house before noon?” Levi entered the room

“You know sooner or later, you’re going to have to stop calling us brats,” Mikasa said before taking a bite of her cereal.

“I will when you’re older than me. Ymir, move. None of you can make a decent pot of coffee.”

“Anyway…..you know that guy I’ve been talking to since the battle of the bands? The drummer?”

Mikasa vaguely remembered the guy. He had seemed pretty nice. He had been bartending at the club where it was being held. It made so his band couldn’t compete.

“Sort of?” Ymir leaned up against the refrigerator.

“Well his band is playing at that club tonight! I already asked Historia and she said we could take the limo. She also said she could get us that suite back that we used when we competed. It’s only an hour away. And it’s masquerade themed so Mika, you won’t have to worry about anyone knowing you’re back in town. Connie will be at his girlfriends and Jean is going to some gala thing.  Please? I don’t want to go without all of you. If things go south, you know the signal.”

“Seems like a lot of work to get laid,” Ymir snorted

“Ymir!” Mikasa yelled.

“What? Do you want me to lie? I’ll go, Sasha.”

“I’ll go too. On one condition, Armin comes with us too.”

Armin’s face lit up.

“Yeah! Of course! I’ll tell Historia! I’ve got to go ask Annie but yes! You guys are the best!”

Sasha kissed both Ymir and Mikasa on the cheeks. Then she exited the house.

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

Hours later, the Ackerman house was even more lively than it had been earlier in the day. Levi was sitting in his chair downstairs reading while Armin sat on the couch flipping through tv channels.

Hange had left to get ingredients for the dinner they were preparing Levi. A loud thud came from u pstairs.

Armin and Levi looked up at the ceiling as the voices were easier to make out now.

“Annie, can you zip me up?”

“Give me a minute. I need to fix this one piece of hair.”

“I’m going to stab you in the eye with eyeliner if you blink again, Ymir.”

“Come on, Historia. You like my eyes. OW! That was my foot, Historia.”

“I know. That’s why I stomped on it. Mika….where are you going? You’re next.”

Armin and Levi held each other’s gaze for a moment before going back to what they had been doing.

Fifteen minutes later, Ymir in a short black tuxedo dress came down first. She went to the front door where her converse had remained since she had entered the Ackerman household.

Historia followed her shortly in a white one shoulder dress.

“Oh no. You’re not wearing those. I brought you flat boots. Look, they’re comfortable!”

Ymir rolled her eyes before giving into the blonde girls wishes.

Armin snickered but stopped as soon as he saw Ymir’s death glare.

“Okay, so if we leave in the next thirty minutes, we should arrive just before Niccolo’s band goes on. Do you think this dress is okay?” Sasha asked as she ran her hands over the brown sequences of her dress.

“It’s fine, Sash,” Mikasa remarked.

Levi looked up from his book. Mikasa was no longer the little girl he had brought home from the hospital. She wore a form fitting black dress with long lace sleeves. No, she wasn’t that little girl anymore but that didn’t stop him from wanting to protect her.

“New dress?” He asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I bought it last time I went shopping with Historia. Is it too much?” Mikasa was suddenly self conscious.

“You look good, Mika. I mean if I wasn’t dating Historia, I’d hit on you,” Ymir smirked.

Mikasa and Levi both rolled their eyes.

“Annie! Come on! We’re going to be late!” Sasha yelled.

“I’m coming. I couldn’t find my purse," Annie said as she came downstairs.

Armin let out a small gasp and stood up when he saw Annie in her blue dress which caused Historia to giggle.

“I mean...you look...nice…” Armin looked down at the floor as his face began to grow red.

Her dress matched perfectly with the button up that he was wearing.

Mikasa then realized that she was the only one without someone tonight.

Just as she was about to start feeling sad, a hand slipped into each of her hands.

She looked over to each side to see that Historia and Ymir were both holding her hands.

They squeezed her hands to which she simply squeezed them back.

She’d be okay tonight. She gave them a smile before releasing their hands to put on her leather boots.

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

The one hour drive didn’t feel like an hour drive. They all sang at the top of their lungs, including Armin who eased right back into the group he had been a part of long before things had fallen apart. It made them feel like they were back in high school on their way to prom.

There was a moment when they all thought the same thing: Eren was missing.

No one dared to say it.

Instead, Historia took this moment to pass out the masks that she had gotten everyone earlier in the day. She had made sure they had each outfit perfect.

The limo driver had been more than happy to arrive at the club. He had opened their doors rather quickly.

“You think he remembers that time I puked in his hat after we went to that amusement park?” Sasha asked the group as they walked away from the limo.

“Probably. He didn’t forget about that time Mikasa brought that smelly stray dog into the limo either. Trust me, my father pays him more than enough. I’ve seen his paycheck,” Historia remarked as she went to the front of the line. She flashed the bouncer a smile.

“Miss Lenz…..so good to see you. Go on in, your booth at the front is waiting.”

Krista Lenz was Historia’s stage name. She didn’t want her father’s money  to influence her r ecording deals. Her father could have just bought them a record deal but that was not something that Historia wanted. She wanted to earn everything on her own. So she had created an alias to perform under and use when she went to clubs.

The group followed Historia into the club. Ymir was holding both Historia and Mikasa’s hand, Mikasa holding Sasha’s hand, Sasha holding Annie’s hand, and finally Annie holding Armin’s hand. It was an easy way to make it through the crowded club without losing one another.

When they reached their booth, they all crowded into the small VIP area. One of the perks was the fact that the bartender came to them. Well, in this case, he had sent over a waitress for the night.

“We’ll need two bottles of champagne, top shelf. Three shots of vodka, two, no, three shots of whiskey. A cosmopolitan, a moscow mule, a martini-shaken not stirred. Yes, like James Bond. A Manhattan, a sidecar, and a dark and stormy. Oh! And two beers. Did I forget anything?” Historia asked the group.

“Uhh...no….”Armin answered as he continued to stare at her.

“Oh! And here’s this,” Historia reached into her small purse and pulled a hundred dollar bill that she handed to the waitress. “I know that was a lot and just bring them as they get done. ”

“Right! I’ll get your champagne and glasses right away, miss!” The waitress disappeared from the table.

“You still remember my drink from a year ago?” Armin asked Historia.

“Of course, I do! You’re one of us, Armin. You always have been. Now that you and Mika have made up, maybe you can come visit us! We start recording in February. If that’s okay with everyone else, maybe you could come listen and be our first test audience.”

“I think he’s biased if he’s sleeping with our guitarist. “

“And you’re biased for sleeping with our lead singer,” Annie remarked as picked up the shot of vodka that the waitress had just put on the table.

Mikasa looked to the stage as the waitress was putting the drinks down. There was a very familiar guitar sitting on stage. She knew that more people than just Eren owned a bright red electric guitar.

She couldn’t help but make the comparison. She reached over and picked up one of the whiskey shots that had been sat down. She raised the small shot glass up as if to toast her table before she took the shot.

The music began from the stage. “Oh! They’re going on!” Sasha yelled.

“Hello! We’re The Restorationists! “ A blonde man in the center of the stage said into the mic. “We’ve got a fun set for you today.”

The rest of the band joined the stage.

Niccolo gave a little wave when towards their table.

Then he entered the stage.

He was wearing a white dress shirt with jeans and a simple white mask. His hair was so much longer than any of them remembered. Then again it had been a year since they had seen him. He walked over to the guitar that Mikasa had been staring at moments before.

“Oh fuck,” Annie said as she leaned back in the booth.

“Mikasa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t check into the band,” Sasha pleaded.

“No fucking way,” Ymir took one of the vodka shots that was still on that table.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Historia remarked.

Armin just stared at Mikasa.

She didn’t know what to do.

She was frozen.

She hadn’t seen him in exactly one year.

The horrible words started playing again in her head.

The music started, the band launched into their first song. The blonde lead singer wasn’t that bad actually.

Mikasa took another of the whiskey shots.

No one said anything as she reached for the third and final whiskey shot.

“I’m going to look at their Instagram, see what I can find out. Maybe it’s just someone who looks like Eren,” Annie said before pulling her phone out of the pocket of her dress.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright]”

They all knew this voice. There was no way to deny that it was Eren singing this.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright]”

That was an understatement, Mikasa thought.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright]”

Of course he didn’t care, that much had been obvious.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright]”

He had drank far too much after his father had died.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright]”

She couldn’t look up at the stage. She couldn’t. She knew what would happen once she made eye contact with Eren.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright]”

When had her feelings for him ever been fake? If anyone was faking anything, it was him.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright]”

Oh, she was the one leading him on? Of course, he would flip the situation on her.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright]”

He had made his bed. He was the problem, not her.

Wait, why was she taking every single lyric so personally?

As the blonde lead singer took back over, Mikasa made eye contact with Eren. The green eyes that she had once loved to see, now they only brought pain.

“Mikasa...I think you need to read this…” Annie’s voice pulled Mikasa back to reality.

She broke eye contact and looked over at the other girl

Annie handed over her phone to Mikasa.

The Restorationists were started when Eren ( lead guitarist, lyricist, composer, and back up vocals) and Zeke (guitarist, lead vocals) reconnected after the death of their father to lung cancer. Joined by Floch (bassist) and Niccolo (drummer), the four started their journey into music. Originally, they had no bigger goals than to just play music they love. After being diagnosed with manic depression and shortly after liver disease that put him in the hospital for months, Eren made the choice he wanted to reach as many as he could with his music.

Mikasa didn’t need to read anymore. She held out the phone to Annie.

“He’s bipolar. And he lost over half his liver,” Annie replied as she took the phone back.

Mikasa didn’t know what to say to that.

What could she say to that?

It didn’t excuse his behavior at all.

“Hey Mika, you said he sent the ring back to you, right?” Mikasa was pulled from her thoughts by Ymir this time.

“Yeah, I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”

“If he sent it back, then what’s that hanging from his neck?” Ymir pointed to the stage.

Ymir wasn’t wrong.

On a simple black cord hung two rings.

She had never seen the other one before but the other was her father’s ring.

She’d recognize that ring anywhere.

If he still had the ring….

“What the fuck is in that box?” Mikasa wondered out loud.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“It’s a head…” Annie remarked as everyone just stared at her. “Se7en….come on. What’s in the box?”

“You know with Eren, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Mikasa muttered as she looked back down.

The rest of the set went by without incident. Eren only sang back up and Mikasa had decided the table was much more interesting to look at. She also ended up drinking most of the drinks that were on the table.

No one said anything about it.

The crowd seemed to love the band. Mikasa even saw some people from high school. She had not been happier to be wearing a mask. The tattoo on her arm was hidden by lace so even if she did run into anyone she knew, she could easily pretend not to be that person.

She didn’t want the I’m sorrys or the other words of pity people would give her. They all knew her and Eren broke up. It was part of the reason Mikasa had left so easily.

Once the band’s set had ended, Mikasa reassured Sasha that it would be fine for her to go talk to Niccolo.

It wasn’t Sasha’s fault.

It wasn’t even Niccolo’s fault.

The world didn’t stop because Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman didn’t get along anymore.

No matter how much it felt like that.

As midnight grew closer, Mikasa excused herself from the table to get some air outside. Ymir and Historia had both tried to go with her but Mikasa insisted that she would be okay. They had sacrificed enough for her.

“Kiss her at midnight, fuck everyone else. I’ll be fine,” Mikasa whispered to Ymir. She made her way to the exit closest to the stage.

She wasn’t expecting to see Zeke and Eren Jaeger leaning up against the wall next to the exit.

Zeke took a drag from his cigarette.

Then he looked at Eren and then at Mikasa.

He looked at both of them once again.

“I’ve got to go…...be anywhere but here....” Zeke stepped on the cigarette he had been smoking. He clasped a hang on Eren’s shoulder before he walked back inside.

Mikasa wasn’t sure what to say.

What could she say?

Eren began to walk away.

“EREN!” She called to him as she caught up with him.

He stopped walking and turned around to face her. “I’m sorry, you must have me mixed up with someone else.”

She reached and grabbed his hand.

Out of instinct, he pulled her closer.

His arm wrapped around his waist.

They swayed in sync with the slow music playing in the club.

For that moment, it was just them.

How long had it been since they had danced like this?

High school?

They hadn’t danced that much back then.

Eren was always busy winning the title of king and being forced to dance with Historia. So Ymir and Mikasa spent a lot of time dancing together.

She should have been mad at him still.

She shouldn’t have been out here dancing with him like nothing happened.

Like everything was okay.

But maybe it was the alcohol that was currently coursing through her veins.

Maybe it was the fact that her father’s ring still hung around his neck.

But time seemed to have stopped.

One song faded into another.

“TWO MINUTES UNTIL MIDNIGHT! FEEL FREE TO TAKE YOUR MASK OFF ONCE THE CLOCK STRIKES!” The announcement said.

They still swayed to the beat.

“Eren….” Mikasa said.

“You’re drunk.”

“Maybe.”

“I can smell the alcohol on your breath. You should go back inside. Your friends will be wondering where you are.”

“I don’t care.”

He didn’t force it.

She had expected him to shove her away, to say horrible things to her.

But he did neither of those things.

He stayed and danced with her.

She swore for a moment that she saw him smile.

But as soon as it was there, it was gone.

There were so many things going through her mind, so many things she wanted to say.

No, there were so many things she needed to say.

So why couldn’t she think of a single one?

“10!” The crowd from inside screamed.

The count down was already starting.

Mikasa reached up to remove his mask.

“9!”

Her hands rested on either side of his face.

“8!”

She began to slowly tug on the mask.

“7!”

Eren closed his eyes.

“6! ”

She removed the mask and threw it to the side.

There was no denying, not that he could anyway, that it was him.

“5!”

Eren wasted no time to quickly remove her mask and toss it aside.

“4!”

He pressed his forehead to her’s.

“3!”

Their lips were inches apart.

“2!”

He pressed his lips to hers.

“1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

And before it could even begin, the kiss was over.

“I can’t. Mikasa, I can’t. It’s better this way."

Just like that, Eren Jaeger walked away, leaving a heart broken Mikasa behind for the second time.

[bobbystompy]

My Top 88 Songs Of 2020

Previously: 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011

Though we couldn’t get as trim as last year’s 75, still very happy to keep this under 100 for the second year in a row. This was a very difficult year in many ways, but music helped make it more bearable.

As always, criteria and info:

This is a list of what I personally like, not ones I’m saying are the “best” from the year; more subjective than objective

No artist is featured more than once

If it comes down to choosing between two songs, I try to give more weight to a single or featured track

Each song on the list is linked in the title if you wanna check them out for yourself; there is also a Spotify playlist at the bottom that includes the majority of the songs

Usually a pump up video goes here, but 2020 had a different energy, so Michael, take us in.

88) Katy Perry - “Smile”

Even Katy Perry’s good songs are a swirling spiral of maxed out auto-tune. This one is just fine. It’s... fine.

87) All Time Low - “Trouble Is...”

Is All Time Low the Katy Perry of pop punk?

86) Tee Grizzley f/ Payroll Giovanni - “Payroll”

I have never heard of Payroll Giovanni, but I have two questions:

1) Is this his song, and he got Tee to jump on it?

2) Or, did Tee write a song called “Payroll” and think to himself “You know who would be great on this? Payroll Giovanni!”

Favorite stretch:

Listen, we is not the same, you say "door", I say "dough" You say "floor", I say "flow", you say "for sure", I say "fa'sho"

85) Lady Gaga & Ariana Grande - “Rain On Me”

Coming out in 2020 probably hurt this song, because I have no, like, out of the house memories with it. You can only have so much fun with Big Singers Singing over a pulsing beat when it’s coming from the phone in your kitchen as you’re indifferently scrambling eggs.

84) Benjamin Gibbard - “Life In Quarantine”

Now this is a song you can do nothing to; almost feels like it’s reluctant to even exist. It got released in March of 2020, so the outro (“No one is going anywhere soon”) served as a too sad reminder/mantra for what the year was about to be. Second shout out to Gibbard for the many YouTube sets he put together during the early stages of the pandemic (when so many of his peers were trying to figure out the next move).

83) Cardi B f/ Megan Thee Stallion - “WAP”

This felt less like a song and more of a “whoa, did you see the music video?!” and/or a means to relitigate the eternal question “What is the sexual line in music?” And while it was fun to watch people freak the fuck out... the quality itself really needed to be better.

(Note: YouTube video is the edited chorus; explicit version here)

82) McKayla Maroney - “Wake Up Call”

Former Olympic gymnast McKayla Maroney -- of medals and memes fame -- dips her toe into the music waters. It’s inside-the-box modern pop music. One thing that’s hard to escape: it doesn’t really sound like her.

81) Chelsea Cutler - “Sad Tonight”

He vocals really remind me of Alessia Cara.

80) blink-182 - “Quarantine”

Blink doing a Bad Religion impression. Docked a few points for the very weak chorus lyrics (“Quarantine, fuck this disease”). That said, as serious as the song comes off, there are some clever punchlines to be found.

79) Dave Hause & Brian Fallon - “Long Ride Home”

This is kind of a nothing song, but it’s easy listening. Also, if your guitar leads can’t clear the “Could Bobby have written or performed this?” bar, then said leads are probably pretty weak.

78) Travis Scott & Kid Cudi - “THE SCOTTS”

Two artists who pair so well together, it’s hard to tell who exudes more influence on the track (eh, that’s not true, it’s Travis Scott, but Kid Cudi is more of a roommate than guest). They want you to be high by the time the instrumental outro hits.

77) The Strokes - “Bad Decisions”

The beginning sound feels somewhat evolved, but by the time Julian Casablancas croons “Making bad decisions”, the song feels like it could be on their debut album “Is This It?”. And it goes in and out like that from there.

76) Thundercat - “Dragonball Durag”

Thundercat is one of those artists I wish I liked more, but when the occasional track does hit, it’s a momentary glimpse into what real fans seem to always see.

75) TI f/ Lil Baby - “Pardon”

Standard fare. Lil Baby’s cameo is very meh.

74) Porches - “Do U Wanna”

For a song that repeatedly asks “Do you want to dance?”, it sure makes you feel like you’re moving in slow motion.

73) NOFX - “Thatcher Fucked The Kids” 

On the best-named album of the year (“West Coast vs. Wessex”), Frank Turner and NOFX cover each other’s material. To start us off, the legends take a song from 12 years ago about British politics from 40 years ago and, well, very easily apply it to right god damn now in America.

72) The Bombpops - “Dearly Departed”

Ahh, my year’s first cancelled concert. The listed names in V1 always make me want to skip this song -- but patience, grasshopper. Chorus is aight.

71) Ratboys - “Alien With A Sleep Mask On”

This band name will never match what the music sounds like.

70) Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever - “She’s There”

The vocals in this song channel, like, four completely different singers for me, ranging from Bob Dylan to Cloud Nothings.

69) NOBRO - “Don’t Die”

An anthemic chorus meant to be belted in a room with sweaty strangers.

68) Oliver Tree f/ blink-182 - “Let Me Down”

The original solo version of this song is 1:52, and though the blink cameo pushes it over the dreaded two minute mark, it adds enough diversity to justify the choice (keep an eye out for the quick Green Day lyrical nod in the back half).

67) AJJ - “Normalization Blues”

This dropped in January, and if you thought the year was bad then. Punk News:

I'll admit I do want the album to age badly because I really don't want to have to listen to it years later and still say this is the world we're living in.

Said album being titled “Good Luck Everybody” is straight cryptic.

66) Selena Gomez - “Rare”

Very chill for big pop; triplet rhythm singing in the chorus gets me erry time.

65) Kid Cudi & Eminem - “The Adventures Of Moon Man & Slim Shady”

Cudi’s second split collab yields bigger results than his Travis Scott joint (admittedly with a worse beat here). It rarely ever hurts to let Eminem do the heavy lifting.

64) Alkaline Trio - “Smokestack”

A little cheerier than the average Alk3 song, but Dan Andriano seems like he’s been in a great place for a long time now; confident and in control. For me, the whole song builds up to the “You changed my life” chorus.

63) Frank Turner - “Scavenger Type”

Here, Frank takes on the acoustic closer to NOFX’s legendary 1994 album “Punk In Drublic”. Though the energy boost is most noticeable, my favorite part is how you can hear how much Turner loves this song as his melody bursts on the verses.

62) Mike Posner - “Alone In A Mansion”

Mike Posner, an artist I have a very soft spot for, released a storytelling concept album in 2020. From the intro track:

This album was written, recorded, and produced over a period of two weeks in Detroit, Michigan in my parents' basement. It's meant to be listened to all the way through. At least on the first listen. And it's about 36 minutes long. If you can't devote 36 minutes of undivided attention to this album, I again politely ask that you turn it off and return at a later time. I love you and I thank you for taking the time to listen in the first place. Also, it's important to note that the characters and the stories in this album are completely fictional. In addition, anyone struggling with a mental illness - depression, schizophrenia - should not listen to this album. Turn it off.

So those are the stakes. Pulling this song -- the record’s closer -- feels unfair void of context, but them’s the breaks.

61) Nada Surf - “Just Wait”

Heavy hitting chorus without having to be heavy; this could really work in a movie.

60) Matt Pond PA - “Wild Heart”

This having only 805 views on YouTube is criminal.

59) Liquid Death - “Unnecessary And Unimpressive”

Liquid Death -- in this iteration -- is a punk rock supergroup with members of Rise Against, Anti-Flag, The Lawrence Arms, and The Bombpops. If that didn’t interest you enough, all lyrics in the project (which, I believe, is for charity) come from hateful comments or negative reviews. Of the four artists involved, this sounds most like a Bombpops song, with Jen on lead vocals as others chime in.

58) PUP - “Rot”

Off my silver medalist for album name of the year (“This Place Sucks Ass”), PUP doesn’t do anything new here, but it was relieving to see them still going in 2020 when so many others got roadblocked, both physically and creatively.

57) Paul Harrold and the Nuclear Bandits - “Massanutten”

This reminds me of local Chicago artist Al Scorch. So much earnestness in the vocals, but a little more prairie for Harrold compared to speakeasy for Scorch. This would be a good road trip song. And I’m not talking about singalong... more for the stretch where you want to sit in silence and look out at the sun-kissed land blazing by. The song’s greatest victory is getting me to like something that cracks 6:00.

Note to future me: Massanutten is in Virginia (saved you a Google).

56) Kesha f/ Sturgill Simpson, Brian Wilson & Wrabel - “Resentment”

Kesha has been vulnerable in the past but never this stripped down sonically; the chorus would feel right at home on a country radio station. Love a good bridge, too.

55) Megan Thee Stallion f/ Beyoncé - “Savage (Remix)”

An up-and-comer pairing with a legend rarely lets down when both sides are this locked in. Bey wins. Fav line: “If you don't jump to put jeans on, baby, you don't feel my pain”.

She matches flows with Megan but also brings melody. Her blessing takes this song from pretty damn good to undeniably great.

That beat, too.

54) Red City Radio - “Baby Of The Year”

If all you want to do right now is grab a drink in a bar, here is a video built to troll.

(Also: a Liquid Death cameo?!)

53) Nathaniel Rateliff - “And It’s Still Alright”

The last time Mr. Rateliff had our attention, he just wanted a drink. That hit had a chorus with the very-sad-when-removed-from-the-song “If I can't get clean, I'm gonna drink my life away” lyric. Well, our man got sober since. And when the party is over, the introspection comes.

52) Direct Hit! - “HAVE YOU SEEN IT?”

Listening to slowed down Direct Hit! is like watching Usain Bolt lightly jog. It kinda makes sense because the core action is there, but it also feels sort of incorrect.

51) Hayley Williams - “Dead Horse”

Solo Hayley songs have this feel like they could do anything at any time... but then don’t. This one does the same until a very fun chorus breaks it up.

50) Kid Cudi f/ Phoebe Bridgers - “Lovin’ Me”

Probably the most improbable collab on this list (if 2020 hadn’t repeatedly taught us to not be surprised by anything).

49) The Homeless Gospel Choir - “Don’t Compare”

Listening to The Homeless Gospel Choir is kind of like getting a dedicated pep talk from a good friend... while fire rains down from the sky.

48) Carly Rae Jepsen - “Let’s Sort The Whole Thing Out”

Queen vocals with one prince of a tempo; this chorus is Sour Patch Kids riding Twix logs down a soda pop waterfall -- and it’s a b-side.

47) Green Day - “Meet Me On The Roof”

I like this song because it reminds me of summer and because it doesn’t really sound like Green Day (but still totally does).

46) Broadway Calls - “Meet Me On The Moon”

Promise -- swear -- I was gonna compare this Broadway Calls song to Green Day before realizing they both had titles about meeting in an escalated location. That said, I did put them next together on purpose to more coherently make this point.

45) David Rokos - “Building Bridges”

My buddy Dave wrote this song, and I think I’ve asked him three times what “burning sugar” meant (he says it’s a reference to absinthe). This song will make you want to travel to enjoy not only the places but the people around you.

44) Charli XCX - “claws”

Charli XCX keeps it futuristic in a video that could be described as sexy, cheesy, goofy, and playful-yet-serious.

43) Brian Fallon - “Lonely For You Only”

This is too easy and should not work (and maybe doesn’t). But that chorus... that circular phrasing... it still takes me all the way out. But I’m the same cat who proposed while a Gaslight Anthem cover was playing.

42) Waxahatchee - “Fire”

This song could be in a different language and hit just as hard.

41) Harry Styles - “Adore You”

Purifying pop.

40) Local H - “Hold That Thought”

Hardest rock song thus far. Local H was one of the first artists to play “live” once the lockdown hit (on a simultaneous YouTube/Facebook stream), and watching them attack music in their Chicago practice bunker felt a little bit like taking in the end of the world. New songs, old songs, covers -- it didn’t matter; their cool, unmatched apathy fits a pandemic or peacetime.

Ironically, was able to see them live in 2020, as they played a socially distanced, outdoor drive up concert in a minor league baseball parking lot. It wasn’t the same, but it was still something.

39) Crazy & The Brains - “I Don’t Deliver Pizza Anymore”

This song is just cool*. The verses feel tense and crucial, it starts to unspool in the pre-chorus, and the chorus itself feels like a light comedown more than anything else.

(* -  though the lyric video is docked some points for spelling y’all as “ya’ll”)

38) Drake f/ Fivio Foreign & Sosa Geek - “Demons”

Menacing Drizzy can be very fun from time to time. Also more than happy to keep “Toosie Slide” very far away from this list.

37) Hey Dad!!! - “Life’s Alright”

Small band, big song; though summer feels light-years away.

36) insignificant other - “i’m so glad i feel this way about you”

This song lands a big haymaker in the first few seconds, so it was probably a good call to pull back some for the chorus and, eventually, outro.

35) BTS - “Dynamite”

Heard they made the lyrics bad on purpose for their English hit, which makes sense, because they’re bad. That said, if you listen knowing they’re supposed to be bad, it kinda makes them... good? Listen, 771 million views would have me singing nursery rhymes in Pig Latin.

34) DaBaby f/ RODDY RICCH - “ROCKSTAR”

Someone said this could be the song of the summer, but, because there wasn’t really a summer, I feel like I only heard it once all year. Also, are we really pretending Post Malone* didn’t just do a “like a rockstar” song three years ago?

(* - and N.E.R.D. before that and Cypress Hill before that... though N.E.R.D. only waiting a year after Cypress, so maybe DaBaby actually was patient)

33) The Front Bottoms - “the hard way”

Don’t take it easy on the animal / I am the animal

Not quite sure what this line means, but I fixate on the phrasing every single time. This song sounds resigned in a very self-aware way.

32) The 1975 - “If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know)”

For a band called The 1975, they sure sound like they’re on their ‘80s shit here. Also, a real thing that happened:

Me: Is he coercing her to get naked?! I thought this band was woke.

/scans lyrics

/notices “She said” before the “Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes” line

Me: Ahh.

Sax solo, take us out.

31) Charly Bliss & PUP - “It’s Christmas And I Fucking Miss You”

A song that is already a forever staple on all my future Xmas playlists.

30) 2 Chainz f/ Ty Dolla $ign & Lil Duval - “Can’t Go For That”

Shorty said she love me / I said “I love me back”

This is a real genre blur; rap at its core, but also soulful, funky, and very danceable. Damn creative.

29) Billie Eilish - “Therefore I Am”

Billie's 2020 gave a few singles -- but no new album -- and a body shaming scandal where the backlash to the backlash probably caused more headlines than the tweet that started it all. Still, she stays on cruise control above the clouds; can all eyes be on you if they can’t even make you out?

Video for this is fun, too. Not sure if her running amok in an empty mall is more of a COVID necessity or commentary on the dying retail industry. As always with her, fill in your own blanks for now.

28) Future f/ Drake - “Life Is Good”

This was my most listened to rap song in the first half of the year, and bumping again now, almost forgot how good it is. Drake just chasing one-liner Instagram captions in the first half:

- “Haven’t done my taxes, I’m too turnt up”

- “N****s caught me slipping once, OK, so what?”

- “B****, this is fame not clout, I don’t even know what that’s about”

And, of course, “Workin’ on the weekend like usual”. The man could make anything glamorous. Let’s hit that H&R Block, bro!

Future’s back half is a totally different song and feels mostly like noise, but the vibe is cool, so I don’t even totally mean that in a bad way. You can even make out a “Got Promethazine in my blood and Percocet” lyric to mark your Future bingo card and immediately move on.

27) I’m Glad It’s You - “The Silver Cord”

This song feels like cold air blowing on the back of your neck.

(Sidebar: thought this band was called The Silver Cord until literally right now)

26) The Spill Canvas - “Mercy”

A dreamy, distorted, at-home version of whatever you remember The Spill Canvas sounding like. This song is confessional and at peace, with the Grade A self-loathing we’ve come to love from this band.

25) 100 gecs f/ Charli XCX, Rico Nasty & Kero Kero Bonito - “ringtone (remix)”

100 gecs first hit my radar with the explosively obnoxious “money machine”, but that’s a 2019er, so this remix to “ringtone” will have to do. It’s catchy like a younger sibling persistently singing a song you’re sick of hearing*.

(* - /only child trying to work in sibling analogies)

24) iann dior f/ Machine Gun Kelly & Travis Barker - “Sick And Tired”

Iann Dior -- ...yeah -- channels Juice WRLD on the hook, and MGK/Travis Barker buoy a track that, honestly, doesn’t really even need the help.

23) Nick Lutsko - “Unleash Your Spirit”

Lutsko hit my radar on Twitter with some legendary political anthems (word to the RNC and Dan Bongino + his Dashboard Trump parody). “Unleash Your Spirit” is the song I most fear hearing (or even thinking of) within a few minutes of going to bed. Not because it’s Halloween theme is scary -- because it’s that god damn catchy. It permeates your brain. True story: a week ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with “Bobbing for apples with the boys” so ingrained in my head, it felt like someone was standing there yelling it through a megaphone.

22) Dogleg - “Kawasaki Backflip”

Bad 2020 robbed many concerts from us, and not getting to see this band live might take the cake. I end the year liking them but could have been *all in* with the right performance and the right venue. Also, Song Title of the Year until further notice.

21) Eminem f/ Juice WRLD - “Godzilla”

Eminem has all of the words and all of the lyrical dexterity, but sometimes it feels like there isn’t anything to ground him. Enter: one of the best beats he’s ever spit on and a Juice WRLD hook to give it pop angle. But let’s not put Slim in the corner -- when he starts accelerating at the end, it’s is a true “holy fuck” moment. It sounds faster than if you actually fast forwarded.

The video ends with a touching audio message from Juice WRLD.

20) Soccer Mommy - “circle the drain”

This song is so gloriously ‘90s; it leans in and does not care.

19) Sam Russo - “Always Lost”

The first time I met you, we were on the last bus You passed me a bottle, and I knew you were one of us

Took 25 words to hook me; I was txting friends before the first chorus even hit.

18) Sincere Engineer - “Trust Me”

Deanna Belos pushes her vocals in this one. I asked about the performance, and she said it was one of the first ones they recorded in the studio, but when they were done and listening back to everything, she re-did this track because her throat was much more used to what the song required.

“That’s why it sounds like I’m on roids lol,” she added.

17) Jay Electronica f/ JAY-Z - “Flux Capacitor”

Jay Electronica signed to Roc Nation in November of 2010. At of the start of 2020, he had still -- STILL HOW FUCKING STILL -- not released a debut album. When he announced it was finally dropping in February, it was met with skeptic eyes. He’d “announced” before. Shit, he’d even posted track lists of albums that never saw the light of day. He was a tease’s tease. It ended up getting a release date of March 12. As the pandemic got really bad in the March 11 zone, he finally had an actual reason to delay the proceedings (the plan: a studio live stream listening party*).

But no -- this is Jay Electronica. Why wouldn’t he drop as the world was ending? The same reason why his costar wouldn’t not have a watch like a Saudi prince. It had to end for it to happen. I wish I saved the memes, because they were fantastic. All I have is my own Twitter memory to prove it happened:

I love this song entirely: the “get the gat” hook (soooo New Orleans), Hov calling out the NFL/acquaintances clout chasing his potential death/rapping forever bars, Jay Elect’s ham-fisted and awkward ass Farrakhan line. Everything is exactly where it should be.

Final verdict on the full album: I don’t know, a B or B+? It had a lot more Jay-Z than expected (wooo), but -- and I rarely say this -- it could have actually been longer.

16) New Found Glory - “Greatest Of All Time”

NFG with a song referencing the Jordan-Rodman-Pippen Bulls only a few months before “The Last Dance” aired. Dare we call it marketing genius? The punk beat does not care; the punk beat is too busy taking souls.

15) Dave Hause f/ Amythyst Kiah & Kam Franklin - “Your Ghost”

“I can’t breathe”

On the heels of the George Floyd/BLM protests came Dave Hause’s somber attempt to capture the moment, desperation, and hurt. On a podcast, he said he was aware he might not ever lead the movement but still wanted to contribute something in an effort to use his platform as a white artist to change someone, anyone’s mind going forward.

14) Taylor Swift - “this me trying”

The chorus makes me feel like the crowd is parting like the Red Sea on a high school -- shit, no, middle school -- dance floor; smoke machine and all. Your crush is waiting for you on the other side. What are you going to say?

13) Phoebe Bridgers - “Kyoto”

Phoebe is one of the best lyricists out because of her specificity, but even though this song is about her dad, you can really fit it to your own narrative.

12) The Lawrence Arms - “Last, Last Words”

The Lawrence Arms wrote their new record (which singer Chris McCaughan described as “this end of the world outpost”) prior to the pandemic, but once you start to process album themes -- and research its namesake -- you do wonder. All of this, combined with some “Catcher In The Rye” references, and we’ve got ourselves a winning formula.

Dressed to kill for oblivion 

11) New Lenox - “Fairytale Of Gary, Indiana”

Your boy plays drums and is on the cover art for this one. Dave Rokos wrote the tune, which references The Pogues’ “Fairytale of New York”. Good news: no slurs in the Gary version. We’ll have you in and out in 90 seconds. Also: say hello to the recording debut of Alisa Caruso (some backup vox at the end). 

10) Beach Slang - “Tommy In The 80s”

My most played song of 2020, but it really was more of a byproduct of how early in the year the album dropped. I’m still such a sucker for it, though. Other than forced nostalgia, not totally sure what the track is about. Did learn Beach Slang recruited former Replacements bassist Tommy Stinson to play on their LP, which was named -- /deepest of breaths -- “The Deadbeat Bang of Heartbreak City” (so maybe it has something to do with that).

9) Juice WRLD f/ Mashmello - “Come & Go”

The :55 mark. Wait until the :55 mark. When the guitar kicks in and tempo doubles, we have a real “oh, shit!” moment. I knew who Juice was when he passed but only “Liquid Dreams”. His 2020 album (“Legends Never Die”) showed us of what could have been; 55 minutes, loaded with cameos and creativity and experimentation. This song had me in its gravitational pull immediately. By the end of the year, they were using it on sports broadcasts, and it felt like a ubiquitous part of the culture.

One of my favorite days of 2020 was visiting the Juice mural in Chicago with my wife. We went impulsively during the day after someone posted a picture on Twitter.

I snapped one of my own and posted to IG with the Signals Midwest lyric “There is such quiet grace in private moments in public spaces”. The band responded with “RIP JUICE”; the perfect online exchange.

Shortly after, I was out with a different group of friends, and we went back at night. This time, it was protected by a fence you had to squeeze past. When we got through, there were kids in there smoking, taking pictures, just hanging out; empty liquor bottles lined the bottom of the mural. Even though it didn’t take all that long to make it there, it still felt like a journey and total ‘movie moment in real life’; a complete rarity in a year like 2020.

8) Mac Miller - “Good News”

Maybe I’ll lay down for a little...

Sadly continuing the theme of artists gone too soon, we have this reflective Mac Miller single, which feels more like self-eulogy than traditional rap. You feel it the entire time. The song crests with “There’s a whole lot more for me waitin’ on the other side”, and it conveys a readiness for whatever happens next.

7) The Dirty Nil - “Done With Drugs”

I don’t pray to Jesus or even own a suit

We lost the creators of our last two songs to substances, and, if we are to take this song at face value, The Dirty Nil don’t want to go down the same path. Drying out never sounded so cool and defiant... until the IKEA suggestion.

6) The Weeknd - “Blinding Lights”

Uptempo Abel is undefeated. My favorite pop song of 2020 has you feeling like you’re speeding through the empty streets of nighttime Las Vegas in a stolen car; indifferent to your environment, only tuned in to your personal desire.

And, on the lamer side of the spectrum, it spawned a catchy TikTok dance.

5) Spanish Love Songs - “Self-Destruction (As A Sensible Career Choice)”

It won’t be this bleak forever... yeah, right.

SLS has always been over-the-top with their lyrics spotlighting the hopelessness of the human condition -- so it was the *perfect* combo to being locked inside with nothing looking to forward to. Bonus: fun cake video.

Though the song’s core is uncut despair, a random moment I remember from 2020 was my wife telling me “I can hear you smiling as you’re singing” from another room as I belted the despondent chorus.

4) Worst Party Ever - “False Teeth”

This song sounds like The Front Bottoms; insecure yet so full.

3) Run The Jewels - “the ground below”

There were a lot of songs *about* 2020, but I’m not sure any artist soundtracked what being alive now is like more than RTJ. My favorite rap song and rap record of 2020.

Fav Killer Mike line: “Not a holy man, but I'm moral in my perversiveness / So I support the sex workers unionizing their services”

Fav El-P line: “I'll slap a dying child he don't pronounce my name correct”

2) The Menzingers - “America Pt. 2″

The Menzingers unexpectedly released an acoustic, re-done version of 2019′s “America (You’re Freaking Me Out)” single. It dropped on my birthday -- June 5th, 2020 -- as the rage in this country boiled over and protesters took to the streets. Though some of the lyrics remained the same, the new ones were changed with true purpose:

Well George Floyd was murdered by a cop The whole world saw the video and watched Now justice is long overdue Grab your pitchforks, we’re heading to Pennsylvania Avenue

I had nothing left when the first pre-chorus hit: “I hope the Devil and Donald and Mitch McConnell rot in hell for all tomorrows”. Tattoo this on my fucking soul.

All funds from the song were donated to Community Bail Funds (via Act Blue) & Campaign Zero. I purchased the track before hearing a note.

1) Machine Gun Kelly - “My Bloody Valentine”

Going into the year, I couldn’t tell you the difference between Machine Gun Kelly and Mac Miller -- now they’re both fixtures in this Top 10. All I really knew about MGK involved tattoos and a rap battle lost to Eminem (not that anyone ever beats Eminem).

In 2020, he took a punk/emo turn, with the services of GOAT drummer Travis Barker and new squeeze Megan Fox at his side. This song’s lyrics could potentially be cheesy but aren’t -- they all land. From the simulation going bad to not wanting “fake love” to all the damn second guessing and the earnestness that just won’t let you off the mat.

Every piece to the puzzle adds something: the messy hair, the Ken doll build, the forced iconic pink guitar that now feels actually iconic. It was almost like no one had any fun this year so he could have all of it on our behalf. There’s a half second shot of him sticking his tongue our during the pre-chorus, a joy 99.99% of us never got to feel.

The album itself was just as fantastic*; a 2000′s pop punk throwback with a Halsey duet, horrible skits (hi, Pete Davidson FaceTime), OpIvy lyrical nod (complete with a royalty check), a warp speed punk track that doesn’t even crack the minute mark, your token 6/8 ballad, acoustic closer (about his daughter), and some experimentation that leaves the new genre but still stays nearby; shades of Lil Peep, if he had Blink-182 as his backing band. Speaking of, please do not miss Travis’ fill at the 2:30 mark.

(* - named “Tickets To My Downfall”... woof)

MGK could get cancelled tomorrow, but we’ll always have this year in a bottle. The acoustic version of the song (sung in a lower resister), the 10 minute making of video (that I watched, uh, twice)... shit, he even turned it into a medley at the start of 2021.

It might be cliche to say “stay winning”, but when someone stacks this many W’s with no end in sight, what the fuck else do you call it? Real love.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading. Here is the Spotify playlist (includes 87 of the 88 songs).

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 5 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: HOORAY last of the strictly rewrites!!! thank u sm for ur patience if ur still waiting on chapter 6, i promise i’ll make it soon! lots of lo-ove, by-ee!!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

“And…one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three-”

“Goddamnit shit cunt bitch fuck piss in my mouth,” Brooke exhales frustratedly all at once, and Vanessa holds back an involuntary chuckle. It would be funny if it didn’t hit so close to home. It’s only twelve o’clock and it’s day three of rehearsals but already Brooke’s entire body language is defeated, like a burst balloon, and Vanessa is worried.

It’s all her fault, really. The scores from Saturday night still burn her brain if she thinks about them too much, hot coals on a grate. Twenty one out of forty. If it were a grade in a test it’d barely be a pass, and Vanessa can practically see her eyes turn green in the studio mirrors if she thinks about the fact they were sixth on the leaderboard behind Jan and Jackie, Crystal and Gigi, Monique and Monet, Akeria and Asia and Jaida and Yvie. Vanessa does not do sixth. Vanessa does not do anything other than top three, and the fact that she ended last week in the middle of the leaderboard enrages her. Okay, she knows this isn’t her journey- it’s Brooke’s, but Vanessa has a reputation to uphold; it’s her first year and she cannot be seen as a dud pro. So on Sunday she’d channeled her fighting spirit into an appropriate dance, and this week they’re doing a Paso Doble. Well. They’re meant to be doing a Paso Doble, but it’s fast and it’s frenetic and Brooke isn’t managing to get her head around this one particular section. Vanessa feels like packing it in, to tell the producers they’re doing something else, but really what kind of person would she be if she pulled that stunt? So instead she’s been watching Brooke become increasingly irritated at herself since 8 this morning and tried to come up with a way she can teach it that’ll work.

“This is my fault,” Vanessa verbalises what she’s thinking and bites her lip. “I’ve made this too hard.”

Brooke suddenly freezes and glares at her. “Are you saying I’m shit?”

PANIC. “No, fuck no! That’s not it at all, I just-”

Vanessa suddenly relaxes as Brooke splutters a held-in laugh, thumping her on the arm. “Shut the fuck up, bitch! I was nervous.”

“Not as nervous as I am about this fucking dance,” Brooke sighs, running her hands down her face slowly. Vanessa looks at the clock and makes a decision.

“You hungry?”

Brooke shrugs. “I am quite, now you mention it.”

“Good. Get your jacket. We’re gonna get lunch.”

Brooke winces. “But I still haven’t got-”

“We have got all damn day to learn this motherfuckin’ dance, now will you put your jacket on and let’s go?” Vanessa says firmly, Brooke giving a little laugh, shaking her head in resignation before crossing the room to grab her things. Vanessa’s pleased, and there’s small fireworks going off in her heart. She’s just asked Brooke to lunch and she’s said yes, not that Vanessa gave her much of a choice admittedly. As Brooke holds the door of the studio open for her, Vanessa starts wondering about where they could go to eat. She’s distracted by the way they’re walking down the corridor side-by-side, the way that Brooke stays close to her despite the fact there’s plenty room for them to have their own space. Vanessa feels like putting an arm around her waist, then decides against it. That kind of contact is special, reserved for a Saturday night after their dance is over and they’re standing together in front of the judges.

They walk out into the chilly October air, and Vanessa’s regretting only taking her hoodie out with her. The weather is quintessentially British- it had been raining that morning but now it has subsided, so the paving slabs glisten with puddles and the cars that go by roll smoothly through the rain-sheened roads and the grey clouds still hang heavy and ominous in the sky. Normally weather like this makes Vanessa yearn for her trips back to Puerto Rico, where the October temperatures are what the UK could only dream of in Summer, but standing outside in the cold and damp doesn’t seem so bad with Brooke looking at her expectantly.

“Where d’you wanna go?” she asks her. Brooke shrugs.

“Starbucks? Take it back and we can eat while we practise?”

Vanessa lets out a laugh and rolls her eyes, both irritated and impressed by Brooke’s dedication. She has a think and then remembers that place a few streets along from the studios where she, Akeria and Monique had grabbed brunch one time before a pro dance rehearsal. The thought of poached eggs with golden yolks on avocado toast makes her stomach rumble and she jerks her head in its direction. “C’mon.”

The walk and the fresh, icy air works a treat at clearing Vanessa’s head and by the time she and Brooke grab a wobbly wooden table by the steamed-up window in the cafe she’s feeling loads better about their Paso even though technically it’s still a mess. She picks up the menu despite knowing exactly what she wants and gives it a scan before Brooke plucks it unceremoniously out of her hands.

“Hey!”

“What?” Brooke smirks knowingly. Vanessa doesn’t complain further, instead indulging in the way Brooke’s eyes dart about as she scans the dishes on the menu, the way her brow furrows and the way she bites her bottom lip as she thinks. When Brooke looks at her again, Vanessa rushes to pretend she hadn’t had her eyes on her first.

“They have some really nice stuff here.”

Vanessa nudges the fork on the table a little to the left. “Me, Kiki an’ Monique went here a couple weeks back. They both had pancakes and they were really good apparently, so…”

She tails off, and Brooke nods. “You’re close with them, huh?”

“Well, we’re all kind of like sisters. All the dancers. In, like…the most literal way possible. We bicker and bitch and steal each others’ makeup and clothes but we love each other underneath it all. But yeah, those two are my girls,” Vanessa smiles involuntarily as she thinks about her friends. She thinks before adding, “They helped me through all the shit last year.”

Brooke smiles sympathetically and nods. “That’s cute that you’re all, like, a family.”

“It’s real nice. ‘Specially since all I really have here is my Mom, and I don’t get to see her all that often.”

Brooke leans her chin on her hands, listening intently. Vanessa realises she’s left her last sentence a little cryptic, so she elaborates. “We came over from San Juan when I was two. Fuck knows why my Mom wanted to leave, but we did. The rest of my family’s still over there- my Abuela, my Tia and Tio, all my lil’ cousins.”

“Do you get to visit much?” Brooke asks. Vanessa nods a yes.

“Way more nowadays than I ever got to when I was little. Obviously when we first came here we didn’t have a huge amount of money but my Mom always made sure to save enough to fly back every Summer for the school holidays an’ stuff.”

Vanessa pauses and looks out of the window. Her stomach feels tight with guilt. “But obviously it got harder when I started wanting to dance, cuz hell, if this country don’t like giving out free school meals then they sure as hell hate subsidisin’ your dance classes.”

Brooke laughs humourlessly in agreement. Vanessa picks at her cuticles as she keeps talking, stares at the table to avoid Brooke’s eyes. “So there were sometimes Summers when we couldn’t afford to go back over because of me. That was hard. My Mom was always really good about it and encouraged me and said it was fine but I still remember her on the phone to my family and how much she cried afterwards…damn. I felt like shit. Guess I still do.”

Brooke pulls a sympathetic face. “But I mean, you’ve been able to go back since then, right? So what do you have to be guilty for?”

“I don’t know,” Vanessa shrugs sharply, frowns a little. “I guess it was just selfish of me. Lookin’ back I should’ve thought about my Mom more.”

“Yeah, but it all worked out for the best. You’re now able to fly her out way more frequently because of the career you’re in, because of the sacrifices you both made back then. Right?”

Vanessa feels something bloom in her ribcage as she smiles at Brooke. Her eyes are kind and she’s talking like a therapist and listening to all of Vanessa’s pent-up guilt and regret even though she has absolutely no responsibility or obligation to do so. “Yeah. Sorry. I just kinda dumped all that on you.”

Brooke shakes her head. “Don’t be silly. This is nice.”

Nice. It is nice. It’s nice to sit in a busy, cosy cafe with Brooke while outside is cold and damp and talk about her life and be listened to. Vanessa feels content and peaceful for the first time perhaps since this competition started. Her mind hasn’t been this clear in a while.

“What about your family?” Vanessa asks. Brooke smiles involuntarily as she gazes at the ceiling. It’s cute.

“Aw, I miss them so much. My Mommy, my total queen and my rock. I love her,” she says happily. Vanessa can’t help but smile at her words. She knows what it’s like to cling to her Mom as growing up they only really had each other. Brooke folds her arms as she continues. “And then I’ve got my older brother and two older sisters who I love to death as well. But I don’t miss my sisters. Well, I don’t miss the way they borrow half my fucking outfits.”

Vanessa snorts a laugh as Brooke shakes her head long-sufferingly. “So you’re the baby of the family then?”

Brooke shrugs. “An overgrown baby at thirty years old, but yeah. All my siblings are either in relationships or married so you can imagine how fun that is whenever I go back to Canada, getting questioned by the fucking relationship Gestapo.”

The sentence makes Vanessa’s heart start climbing the stairs of hope, and she’s not even attempting to stop it. She fidgets with a corner of her paper napkin as she speaks again. “Oh, so you ain’t…you’re not seeing anyone at the moment, then?”

“Why, who’s asking?” Brooke cocks an eyebrow. Vanessa instantly feels her cheeks flood scarlet, and Brooke lets out a howl of a laugh. “Kidding, kidding! No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Right, right,” Vanessa nods as nonchalantly as she can. She thinks about testing deeper conversational waters, considers killing two birds of curiosity with one stone. They’re on the topic of relationships, and who knows when they’ll get onto it again, so she decides to dive in. “Just thought you might, y’know…have a boyfriend. Or somethin’.”

“No, no boyfriend,” Brooke says simply. She leans her head on the fist she’s made and raises her eyebrows a little, giving Vanessa a quick once-over. “Or girlfriend.”

It’s the answer she’s been hoping for, confirming her suspicions that Brooke’s into girls, but the flirting panics her and so Vanessa reaches for the discarded menu to fidget with as she lightly shrugs, moving the conversation along with all the tact and delicacy of a steamroller. “So you live on your own then?”

“Yeah. Just me.”

“Me too. You like it?”

Brooke pulls a face, looks down in thought for a second. “Sometimes. Part of me likes the feeling of being completely on my own, because I can do literally whatever the hell I want, take things at my own pace. There’s nobody to nag me or tell me what to do. I realise that makes me sound literally half my age, but it’s true. I can sing as loud as I want.”

“You sing?” Vanessa asks, intrigued. Brooke laughs.

“I didn’t say I sing well!” she snorts, and Vanessa lets out a giggle too. Brooke continues, her gaze focused on the world outside the window as she speaks. “It’s nice though, that feeling of freedom. On the other hand I just miss, like…coexisting with someone? I don’t know. Like when I came to uni over here and I had flatmates and there was that feeling of comfort to know that there was always someone in the next room to talk to, or make dinner with, or just watch TV with. Just someone to do normal shit with. You know?” Brooke narrows her eyes as she finishes her sentence, appealing to Vanessa.

“Yeah, I get it,” Vanessa replies, letting out a little sigh as she lets a few memories in and then slams that particular door firmly shut. “I miss that too, sometimes.”

The silence lingers between the two of them for a second before Brooke speaks again, her tone upbeat and cheerful. “But I mean, for the most part, my flat’s great. It’s part of this new-build, hi-tech apartment complex that only got done building last year. We’ve got a gym, there’s a shop at the bottom, there’s meeting rooms we can book…”

“Yeah, I think you told me about the gym once,” Vanessa nods in recognition, and Brooke’s smile widens as she has an idea.

“You should come round some time. You’d love it.”

Vanessa tries to stop the blush that threatens to hit her face. The invitation is personal and not rehearsal or show related, and that fact shouldn’t make her as happy as it does. She fixes Brooke with a smile and nods shyly. “Yeah. That’d be cool.”

Still visibly buoyed, Brooke reaches across the table and rests her hand on top of Vanessa’s, patting it gently. There’s a little spark of static when they touch, a metaphor come to life. When Brooke smiles at her, Vanessa feels comfortable.

“This was a good idea. Thanks for dragging me out.”

Vanessa shrugs, doesn’t move her hand. She smiles lazily at her dance partner. “It’s okay. We both needed a break.”

As the waiter comes to take their order Brooke’s hand flies out from its position on top of hers, but Vanessa doesn’t mind. There’s a connection that’s been forged that isn’t physical, and she knows it’s still there even if Brooke’s hand isn’t.

Rehearsal ends up going smoother the rest of that day. Okay- it’s not perfect, but Brooke starts picking it up and Vanessa’s mind is less cloudy. Thursday brings more rain and full runs of the dance that don’t go smoothly but Vanessa is relieved because at least they’ve fucking learned it. By Friday they’re exhausted and worn out and Vanessa hates this dance, hates this fucking dance, but it’s one step closer to being over for good. She’s disappointed when it occurs to her that they’re not going to get particularly favourable scores- their run is still riddled with mistakes, but at least Brooke’s worked hard on what she was critiqued for last week. Her core is stronger due to the planks Vanessa’s been making them both do at the start of every rehearsal and her elbow hasn’t drooped once- not that there’s much chance for it to during a Paso, but at least the judges will be able to see that she’s taking their comments on board. Vanessa’s proud of her. She tells Brooke so before they go home on Friday night, when it’s quiet outside and different shades of dark. She thinks Brooke might be blushing as she thanks her and says goodbye, but she can’t be sure.

Saturday happens in a frighteningly fast blur- there’s excitement but it’s nervous instead of anticipative, as everybody knows that tonight one couple will be eliminated. Vanessa’s not really worried about that though- the bottom of the leaderboard last week was comprised of Courtney and Blair, Plastique and Scarlet, Willam and Phi Phi and Aja and Farrah, so in comparison she supposes sixth isn’t too bad. Her aim for tonight’s dance had been to climb up the leaderboard a bit, but knowing how their Paso’s been going Vanessa will call it a success if they both stay where they are.

It turns out they drop down to seventh behind Shea and Peppermint, after their American Smooth has the judges on their feet. Brooke and Vanessa’s Paso goes…well, it goes. It’s not the best they’ve done it but it’s done, thank God, and they never have to do it again.

Unless of course they’re in the dance off. But Vanessa doesn’t permit herself to think about that. Instead, she thinks about the warmth of Brooke’s hand in hers as they walk through the corridor together after their judge’s critiques and their interview. Neither of them address the fact their hands are entwined, and that’s okay. Vanessa likes it like that.

“You okay?” she asks Brooke, halfway down the hallway, as their character shoes squeak quietly against the laminate flooring and they cast fleeting shadows against the manila walls.

Brooke sighs a little, gives a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah.”

“No you’re not. C’mere,” Vanessa frowns, using the hand she’s holding to pull Brooke into a hug. It’s gentle and tight all at once, the way Brooke’s strong arms are holding her close contrasting with the way her hands are light against her back. Brooke smells of a Saturday night: tan in a bottle and hairspray and Jimmy Choo Flash perfume. It’s not like her usual scent of freshly-washed hair and her fabric softener (Lenor Gold Orchid- Vanessa had smelt them all rather self-indulgently on her last trip to Tesco to work out which was Brooke’s).

“I don’t want to let you down,” Brooke whispers above her, and Vanessa can tell she’s got tears in her eyes without even having to look into them. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head against her chest.

“You could go out there, forget the entire dance and do the fucking Macarena for all I care. You always make me proud.”

Vanessa feels Brooke press a kiss to the top of her head and it sets off a blush she can feel spreading down her face onto her neck and across her chest. Brooke had kissed her again after their dance had finished, quick and emphatic against her temple, and it had set off butterflies in her stomach that threatened to fly up into the rigging of the lights. Vanessa wants to get caught up in the moment, wants even to hold her gaze and see how she’d react if she asked to kiss her properly, but instead she pulls herself out of the hug. She keeps their hands connected though and as she meets Brooke’s eyes and finds that she’s smiling at her, Vanessa concludes it was the right decision to make.

“Fuck the scores,” she says, remembering each paddle (4, 5, 5, 5) with a sting as if she’s been smacked with them. “The Paso wasn’t for us and it’s over now. On to the next one.”

“Unless we’re in the dance off.”

“Brooke Lynn, Bianca gave Blair a two. I think we’ll be fine.”

Vanessa isn’t wrong, and it turns out their position looks better compared to some of the other dances they see once they’ve been through makeup to get neatened up again. Poor Scarlet tries her best to get through her Jive with Plastique but her feet just aren’t doing the things Vanessa knows Scarlet wants them to, and the judges give them a combined score of fifteen. Scarlet looks deflated as she leaves the dancefloor and the moment their interview is over Vanessa watches as Yvie pulls her into a hug (Vanessa knows that type of hug because she’s just given Brooke the exact same one). Aja and Farrah’s Samba wasn’t great either and they earn themselves a mark of seventeen. Despite this, though, by the time the show finishes and they have to assemble to film the results (which are pre-recorded and then broadcast on a Sunday), they’re both a bag of nerves. She and Brooke are placed on the stairs with a spotlight burning down onto them, ants under a magnifying glass. The mood between the couples is decidedly tense, and as Vanessa looks down at the girls on the dancefloor she sees Monet squeeze Monique’s waist as Monique sighs and rests her head against the other girl’s shoulder. Vanessa wants to scoff at the fact they both seem nervous. The waltz they did almost brought the house down and they even got a nine from Laganja, so unless the only votes they got were ones they gave themselves, they’re very likely to be safe.

Michelle does her intro and, as the lights go down, Vanessa feels as if her heart is going to break her ribcage it’s beating so heavily.

“I can now reveal that the first couple safe and through to next week is…”

Long pause. The beat of a drum and Brooke’s pulse that Vanessa can feel through the hand she’s holding. Vanessa is so nervous that she casts her eyes up to the heavens. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…

“Jan and Jackie!”

Jan screams and Jackie falls gratefully into her arms as she yells a “thank you!” at the camera that’s barely heard over the applause.

“The second couple safe is…”

Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Vanessa gives a minute bow of her head like her Mom taught her to do at mass when she was little. Is it sacreligious to pray if you’re lapsed? Some priests probably think so. Vanessa hopes it’s working in their favour anyway.

“Heidi and Vixen!”

Vanessa can’t see their reaction as they’re positioned above them at the very top of the stairs, and she doesn’t want to turn around in case…it’s bad luck? She doesn’t know. At this point she’s not risking anything, not even looking up to see Brooke’s face.

“The next couple safe and through to next week is…”

Holy Mary, Mother of God…you take away the sins of the world? Nah, that’s the wrong one. Fuck.

“Gigi and Crystal!”

Vanessa wants to roll her eyes, much as she’s happy for her friend. Of course they’re safe. They were second on the leaderboard last week and first tonight after a scarily in-sync Charleston. It comes as no surprise to her.

“The first couple in tonight’s dance-off will be…”

Vanessa feels truly nauseous. It wouldn’t be impossible for it to be them, stranger things have happened on the show. What the fuck is that next line? Holy Mary, Mother of God…

“Blair and Courtney.”

Vanessa’s heart feels as if it’s been shocked by jumpleads. She feels Brooke give an involuntary squeeze of her hand, and Vanessa strokes her thumb against hers in return. They just need to not be the other couple in the dance off. It’s doable.

“The next couple safe and through to next week is…”

…pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death-

“Brooke and Vanessa!”

Vanessa doesn’t screech or scream. Instead she finally turns to Brooke, who’s meeting her smile with a matching one plastered across her own face. She falls into her outstretched arms in relief, and mumbles a “thank you” to the camera while Brooke holds her tight. They’ve made it. They live to fight another week.

Amen.

Of course, one couple isn’t so lucky and, after a tense dance-off between Scarlet and Plastique and Blair and Courtney, it turns out Blair is the first celebrity to leave the competition. The girls get upset- the celebrities have all become a part of their big, crazy family now, and it’s sad that Vanessa will no longer hear Blair laugh at something Vixen has said, or compliment her on her makeup, or ask to get selfies with everyone in the dressing room. It’s Vixen, though, who is affected the most by Blair’s departure. Vanessa knows they’re good friends but she wonders if perhaps they’ll ever become something more as she watches Vixen cling to Yvie and sob and sob. The moment they’re all allowed, the pros and celebrities flood the dancefloor as Blair and Courtney dance their last dance. Vixen makes a beeline for Blair and Courtney graciously steps out of her way so the pair of them can hug and cry in tandem.

“Shit, this is rough,” Vanessa mutters to nobody in particular. Monique, who’s materialised beside her, shrugs.

“Yep, well. I don’t plan on havin’ to go through it, so it’s not a problem for me.”

Vanessa snorts at her friend’s cockiness, then pulls a sympathetic face as Blair approaches the pair of them, all streaming mascara and sniffles.

“C’mere, baby. You did so well, be proud of yourself,” Vanessa offers to her, and Blair smiles gently before her face crumples again.

“Just…look after my girl, okay?” she asks them hopefully. Monique smiles, rubs her forearm gently.

“Oh, sweetie, Courtney will be fine, she’s a big girl.”

“Courtney?” Blair asks, confused. Then she appears to realise something and she smiles back at Monique, a little embarrassed. “Oh no, um…I meant Toni. Can you both look out for her? Make sure she’s okay after I’m gone? I mean I know her and Heidi are going to go far, but…y’know.”

Vanessa wants to cock an eyebrow at Monique in recognition, but she doesn’t. Instead she gives Blair a reassuring look, takes her hand and squeezes it gently. “Sure we will.”

Appeased, Blair thanks them and gives them both a hug before moving on to say goodbye to some of the other girls. As she walks away, Vanessa hears Monique give a big sigh beside her. She tilts her head at her friend inquisitively. “You ‘kay?”

“Yeah, uh…” Monique sighs, rubs her eyes a little. “Could we do lunch at some point this week? Me, you, Kiki. I just need my girls’ advice.”

“About what?” Vanessa asks her. Then, as she follows Monique’s gaze over to where Monet is standing talking to Shea and Aja, the penny drops. “Oh. OH. Okay. Yeah, we’ll do lunch, bitch.”

Monique smiles gratefully at her, then gives her a hug and a goodnight as she’s starting choreography early tomorrow. The coming week’s theme is movies, which is always fun, and Vanessa already has a number in mind. It’s ridiculous, and so quintessentially Strictly. She can’t wait to show it to Brooke.

As Vanessa thinks of Brooke, she finds her eyes scanning the group of girls to see where she is. She’s smiling as she’s talking to Plastique and Scarlet, her smile bright and dazzling and her eyes kind. The lights are hitting her highlight and making it look as if she’s glowing, and her hair catches the light too in its smooth and glossy bun.

Vanessa feels her heart yearn, and she considers the possibility that perhaps it won’t just be Monique talking about the feelings she has for her partner when they both go to lunch with Akeria.

[beerecordings]

oh hell oh geez i am thinking about Selkie Chase again ignore me while i headcanon

Chase loves going to the swimming pool in town cause he’s trying so hard to like reject the Selkie side of him but he still desperately wants to swim sometimes and he just does laps for hours and the lifeguards are like “why the hell can this small white man swim so gotdam fast get the olympics on the phone!!” and somedays Henrik has to swing by to pick him up cause he’s been swimming for like five hours straight. the lady at the counter knows him by name she’ll be like “he’s in aisle six doc” and then Henrik has to go drag Chase out by the back of his swim trunks and burrito him in a towel to make him eat and get in the car

when Chase does decide it’s time for him to try getting back in the ocean he’s going to be so out of practice at doing seal stuff that he will look like a total dork. he’s gotten SO BAD at catching fish, all the other seals are snatching them up before he can get them. and it doesn’t help that Henrik came along to make sure he didn’t have an anxiety attack thinking about Stacy or anything, so he’s just sitting on the rocks on the beach laughing his ass off watching Chase try to do this. Chase is going to flop-flop-flop up there and shove Henrik right off the rocks

then they end up having an all out splash war right there in the waves and the other seals are like “???? human man good??” and start ganging up on him and teasing him, pushing him around with their noses in the water and splashing him too. Henrik laughs a lot despite himself, just cause it’s so ridiculous. he ends up getting a little far from shore and starts to get kind of scared as the waves get bigger, but then Chase is beside him, pressing his back against his hands, and Henrik holds onto him and gets to drift while Chase pulls him along. it’s nice for Henrik to see him in his element and relaxed and Chase didn’t even realize he’d kind of been missing being able to share this part of him with somebody. they go up and down the beach as the sun goes down and Henrik is just lying against his warm seal blubber, playing games with the other seals and soaking in the sun. it’s really nice.

if they get starboy Marvin he can shapeshift to a seal too and then the four of them can all go swimming like that! but Chase probably won’t be up for that level of intimacy for a while. he shares this part of himself rarely, but when he does it’s very nice for him and he always feels more at peace afterwards.

Chase loves otters and will go tease them while he’s in the ocean. if you see a seal slapping water onto a whole platoon of chirping otters, that is probably a Selkie playing games. Chase must resist the urge to take them home. they’re like dogs to Selkie.

one day he’s going to have a close brush with a killer whale and come home shaken as fuck and hide under Jackie’s bed for like four hours shaking. the others bring him sashimi and promise him he’s safe. Henrik is just glad he didn’t get a bite - bad injuries on Selkie can make it impossible for them to change into their other form and even if he could change a whale bite on a human body could prove deadly to Chase.

on that same note, if he ever gets badly injured in the water, he will be unable to change back into a man and he’ll just have to try and hide and find help, unable to get back to Henrik, the only one he trusts to look after him. if he’s lucky, other Selkie will find him and they’ll change into humans to go find Jackie and Marv and Henrik for him. unfortunately these Selkie have not been human in a long time.... Jackie wakes up at three in the morning to a trio of half-naked Selkie wrapped up in seal coats babbling to him in Selkie Gaelic and trying to drag him down to the beach. he’s a little confused but (he got the spirit) they get there. they spend the rest of the night sitting beside a heaving, hurting seal Chase tucked up in a safe crevice on the rocks of the beach, watching Henrik trying to figure out Selkie medicine and seal surgery.

just imagining Chase showing up to a city hall meeting about seal hunting laws or ocean pollution or something and get VERY HEATED about it lol. he makes good points though, he defends the ocean and the creatures in it really well because he is so passionate and understanding of the issues. Jackie’s in the back of the room going “YEAH!!!!!” every time Chase makes a point

Anti can TELL there’s something magical about Chase (because Anti is fae and they can sense that) but he doesn’t know quite what. so he’s spying on Chase all lowkey like “dryad?? fae blood? half-Pooka??” and then he catches Chase just like. shoveling fish n chips into his mouth or slapping his belly for a half hour straight and he’s just like “.........ah i see.” which is funny but also Anti understands there’s an imbalance in Chase’s life and he sees it as a corruption of his nature that Chase is so afraid to acknowledge that other side of himself and he almost feels bad for him. he might try to just throw Chase in the ocean one day and force him to stay there until he starts to get lost in the Selkie part of himself and forget being human. he’s pretty sure he could curse Chase to be unable to change for a long time. in his mind, it would be merciful, but then again, Anti really hates humans and feels like he was poisoned by man-made technology and electronics. he sees himself in Chase, goofy as he is, because Chase is so obsessive about his online image and his channel and all this stuff

one time Chase goes out to the ocean and he says he’s going to be gone a few days but then there’s an emergency and they need him so they go to the colony where he usually vacations and they’re like “.... Chase?? bud? you there??” like two hundred seals turn around to stare at them. Chase is pretty deep in seal mode so he’s going to be like one of twenty who come over to play with these humans and Jackie and Marvin and Henrik are going to be there like “.... uhhhhh I think he’s that one??? dammit Chase stop splashing me this is serious!!!!!!! u are a flubber bucket cut it out!!” *they are bumped into the water and all the seal starts bark-laughing at them*

also sometimes when he’s feeling affectionate Chase just like. compulsively buys fish and eel and stuff to bring home to the others. his brain is like “providing fish for family... is Good” and he’s like “can’t argue with that” and makes Jackie eat like three rolls of sushi. Jackie is not complaining.

[sweetcatmintea]

A Gift

Hello hello! Day four, I’ve got to drop this and run! Y’all like tenderness right? Hope you enjoy this drabble ^u^ Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Advent Calendar organiser: @alexprompts Prompt: This cool photo (Germ warning it’s a culture in a dish) taken by @wildler Words: 1009 Characters: Dianna (Mama) and June (Mumsie) 

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Fan fair and laughter fading into memory, another day drew to a close. Snow plinked against the window, a quiet symphony to muffle the world until the sun rose. Incense burned, smoky plume scenting the air with relaxing spice. Diana lay, leaning back into her overstuffed pillows, cosy and comfortable in her night gown as she flipped through a light read. Architecture had always interested her, even if she had no plans to make a career of it. She could appreciate it in her leisure. She hummed a greeting as June crawled under the covers beside her. Cold feet tangled with warm, the latter quickly retreating.

“Don’t be like that,” June pouted, cuddling closer, “you wouldn’t let your poor wife freeze, would you?” Like mother like son, she lowered her ears, big baby doll eyes imploring.

“My poor wife should start wearing slippers if she wants to cuddle.” Dianna laughed, playfully papping June’s forehead with her book before marking the page and setting it aside. Despite her mock annoyance, she turned to hold her lover properly. The cold had its perks, it would seem. June, too tall and lanky to stand eye to eye with Dianna, still fit perfectly in her arms, or maybe it was her heart. They lay together breathing in the moment’s peace.

“Did you get Xave down this time?” Barely audible, the question was murmured into June’s long red hair.”

“Mm. He was still pretty excited but I think the early morning finally caught up to him.” June chuckled, yawning. “Where does he get all that energy? It can’t be from us.”  

“I’m sure you were like that when you were his age. Will was. You’re just old.”

“Well you’re married to an old lady. Do you have a thing for grandmas?” June smiled into Diana’s skin, not bothering to open her eyes.

“Maybe just one.”

“Should I be worried.”

“Definitely.”

“How so?”

“Well,” Dianna’s hand trailed through June’s locks, “she’s beautiful,” Fingers traced her strong jawline, tingling the soft pale skin. “she’s thoughtful,” They continued down her neck, lingering at her shoulders, muscular from work, “she’s fierce,” down her arms, “she’s clever,” brushing over her wrists leaving warmth in their wake, “she’s an amazing mum to three wonderful children,” stopping to interlock their fingers together, ebony and ivory, a perfect harmony, “I might be in love.”

June squeezed Dianna’s hand, cupping her cheek with the other, a blush glowing on her own. Surely this was a gods’ work, carving them from stone to compliment one another so completely. June’s thumb moved oh so gently across Dianna’s skin. Blue dissolved into brown. She could stare into Dianna’s eyes forever. “I think I’ve heard of her.”

Dianna leaned into her embrace. “You have?”

“Yeah.” Lips met in tender love. “They say she’s the luckiest person in the world.”

“One of them.”

Conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence, neither party quite ready to leave the moment to history. Snow continued to tap quietly at the glass. Smoke rose in delicate patterns as the incense burned closer to its end. Floorboards creaked as Xavier skittered around in the kitchen, undoubtably a covert mission for water. Dianna laughed softly. That boy, honestly. She exchanged a look with June. They agreed. He’d settle himself down again soon.

Diana stretched, curling closer to June. “Do you think Mary was happy with what we got her? I know she had her heart set on that new sewing machine…” It would have been nice to be able to surprise her with one.

June hummed. “I think so. She’s wanted to see a live Panthers game since I showed her the channel. If she wants one that desperately, she’ll have to save up for it herself. I wish we were in a position to do that, but with the bills, Xave’s camps, taxes on all three kids, it’s just not feasible.” June sighed. She worked and worked but it never seemed to be enough.

“Don’t beat yourself up Junebug. They may not have everything they want, but they have everything they need. That’s enough.” Another kiss planted on June’s forehead as Dianna moved back, rummaging through the bedside draw. “Speaking of,” She produced a small, box, roughly the size of a saucer and covered in blue patterned paper, “this is for you.”

“What? Di, you shouldn’t have! What is it?” June jostled it gently. Gift giving was supposed to be finished that morning.

“Open up and see, I’m not going to tell you, silly.” Dianna watched as June pulled the gold ribbon, unwinding it from the container. It wasn’t much, but she hoped she’d like it. A flat glass cylinder sat safely in tissue paper. June took it out, careful not to damage it. Tiny snowflakes blossomed inside, shimmering as though the sun shone on them before fading away, only to be replaced anew.

“What is this?” June breathed, her eyes glittering, a treasure in their own right.  

“It’s not much, I got it from that market I was telling you about. It’s a snow bloom. I wanted to take you on a weekend to the mountains, you know, like when we first met,” She tugged her night cap self-consciously, a distraction from the butterflies in her chest, “but then Xave had that accident, and, well, it pretty much cleaned out what I’d saved.” She laughed lightly. “It was lucky the money was there, but still… I just wanted to get you something nice to show you how much I love you.”

June took Dianna’s hand. “Having you in my life is more than I could ever ask for.” She wanted to say more than her words were capable of. How do you tell someone they’re the light of your life? The stars you trust to guide you? The home you never knew could exist? She wanted to tell her that and more, to have her really understand. But mere words could never be enough. Still, they were all she had.

“Dianna,” she said, “I love you more than anything. Thank you for existing.”

-----

Tag list

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer

[yeswritingsandwritings]

COVID Diaries; Pennies

It is March 2020 and I’ve channeled the spirit of Paul Revere. As Los Angeles erupts into rioting and mass fentanyl suicide, I dive headfirst into the cabin of the Mazda, and gun the packed ship upwards along the vacant I5 corridor. Every smouldering city under Gavin Newsom looks further gone than the last. The navigation takes me on some perverse fantasy detour thru post-apocalyptic San Francisco. It’s been a long time coming but now it’s solidified. The mayor and her delegates have chomped their cyanide pills and now the streets and bridges offer rotting cars beside silent, beautiful Victorian manors. Still in full color, the sky is blue and the sun is yellow, gleaming indifferently. I am nervous about San Franscisco County. The shelter in place order says no one shall be out on the street without proper reason. And, proper reason or not, I have a pharmacy of drugs in the trunk of my car. Will it be enough to wait out the pandemic in my mother’s house? Enough to keep me sane tucked in the basement of the compound on Cougar Mountain, Issaquah, Washington, for GodKnowsHowLong? My very own Bavarian Alps.

For years in LA I have lived for high speed and hard sex in a blackout frenzy which no young American could denigrate without looking like a nerd. In our culture of excess I sought the most insane, unexplored corridors. Chavionistic romps through the bitter forests of lust, contamination, too-young suicide, too-good blowjobs that leave explosions on this cast of characters flown from every corner of the globe, all with the same indelible fever. I come to now, in this chaotic month handed down by God, March 2020, and I’m withdrawing from all of it in the penthouse on the side of the mountain.

In this moment the fantasy is fading fast, like being jolted from a wet dream by a home invasion. For a lot of people the American dream was already a flickering ember in the distance, a relic of some stupid pilgrimgrage for egoic glory, a blind propaganda puzzle piece with no jigsaw to belong to. But I had formed my own relationship with the concept, and, until now, had believed wholeheartedly in the myth in America; or at least that myth’s capacity to spur significant action, which could abolish hunger and pain, mistreatment and misunderstanding, which could deliver us from evil and unto the kingdom of heaven.

I am not, to many of her 300 million pairs of eyes, a portrait of traditional American success. I am the starving artist archetype. I’ve lived in abandoned buildings and shot cocaine into my veins in the speeding bathroom of many an Amtrak carriage. These may be my most definitive traits, save for the music I somehow manage to draw out of all of this. Albums worth of potential answers to the impossible questions. Sometimes I think I’ve reached the peak, with the LSD and the naked festival girls. I am 26 years old and feel incompetent. I go to pay a traffic ticket or am electric bill and find myself paralyzed at the entrance to the website. In a moment of otherworldly strength I call the bank and my debit card has been cancelled. I stare at the parking ticket in my pod, which has been rented from a company called Up(Start), and is arranged in a row with twenty others. At least I’ve made it to Los Angeles.

Up(Start) is a strange place. I find most people don’t last very long in this community. They leave back to their hometowns or find apartments. The ones who stay haunt this place like ghosts, with no discernible goals and mysterious incomes. I’ve learned not to ask how these life-longers pay the rent. The answer is not translatable.

Willow is one of these life-longers. She always talks about moving out; sometimes to an apartment in LA, most recently about some nebulous palace in France. She says her grandmother died and left her everything. She shows me a suitcase full of watches and rings that still can’t fully convince me of her story. She drinks vodka when she wakes up and convinces me to fuck her when Jesse leaves us in his room alone.

Jesse found his way out to a beautiful house in Silver Lake. He had been at Up(Start) for a year before that. He is the nicest guy I know, offering the coat off his back for nothing but a swig of your vodka in return.

I left these characters behind, keeping a steady 65 on the interstate and stopping only to black out in a hotel room in Redding, CA. Summer, inspirational barista and blowjob queen, dared me to stop and see her in Portland, but my body was crawling from scabies from Lucy, (who was also in Portland and, I would later learn, infected with the virus) and I sped right through.

My younger brother Jon was at the house and had been awaiting my arrival. I instantly understood why. My mother had become a figurehead for the national panic, and shoulder-hugged me with her mask on. She is, as we speak, sterilizing the place.

I’ve gotten to spend a good amount of time with Jon, and am somewhat surprised to find that he faces the same existential torment as I do. This is not something we talk about, but I can feel it on him. He is super into Xanax, and orders pressed bars off the darknet. I share the drugs I’ve brought with him. Kratom, weed, and, —most enticing— Flubromazolam. I learn that he has been kicked out of UW on academic probation. I ask him about it in front of my mother and stepdad. With a casualness that shocks me he says he just didn’t care about any of his classes. But he’s got reaccepted to the school and he says he’s going to make it this time.

I show him how I order my drugs online. I show him the designer benzodiazepines on the clearnet, pennies per dose. We place an order for O-DSMT. It’s an insane solution to our problems, but I guarantee you it works.

I tell Jon about my life in LA with the stuff. Taking it and driving weed deliveries all day. I don’t tell him about the long nights with Lucy, telling her the love I feel from the opiate is sourced from her, then failing to get hard.

Jon, for his part, tells me about the peak of his Oxycontin habit, poppin 7 OC30’s a day with his buddies at Rolling Loud. I was just a few blocks away. I didn’t know he was in town.

We order the O-DSMT to his apartment in the U District, stopping to and snag it on our sole vacation to Dad’s for dinner. Two packages have been delivered. We have the save pavlov response. We carry the packages to his apartment on the top floor and split the bubble wrap with a butterfly knife. Out of a manilla envelope comes 100 green Xanax bars. From a bent UPS envelope comes a gram of O-DSMT and 250mg of 4-ACO-DMT, a bonus for me (Jon says he hates psychedelics).

We set to the scale and split the gram, dosing 50mg then and there to get through dinner. The next day he visits me in the basement, saying “Yo, this O-DSMT shit… it’s dope.”

I say “I’m with you.”

My days are spent deep in the dream flow, recording songs for a hopeful fourth album. The third one is still far from complete, but I can’t go back and meddle with those songs now. Wouldn’t dare touch their Los Angeles essence with the hand of the evergreen state. They will go to Rob and Twon and Andy as they are.

I’m back to guitars for the new album. Cardinal sin AC/DC type songs. I think it may be a double album, quarantine permitting. I want an exploratory, unstructured, throw paint at the wall and see what sticks, White album/Life of Pablo situation. I want solo piano pieces and Aphex Twin-esque 808 excursions. I want the label to release it on white vinyl with extensive liner notes. Indulgence. I want this album to be the one where I say “indulge me.”

If Rob is vehimently opposed to the idea I had the fantasy of making an easy album. Taking songs like Parade Owl, See You Tomorrow, Miss Can’t Sleep and putting out a whole album of them. Good rock music. Take a step back from the frontlines; the cutting edge. We’ll see what sticks to the wall after this quarantine is over.

Weeks drift by. There’s a trade route for all the beer that gets brought into the house. It goes from the garage fridge to the basement fridge to my eager hand, to my mouth, to my blood. Night by night the ritual recurs, til my mom takes out the downstairs trash and finds all the empties. She makes some subtle comment. I tell her to buy more White Claw.

Despite the drug flow my inspiration seems to be drying up. Rob took a listen to the twenty five songs I’d completed since arriving in Issaquah and said they sounded like Dogs. The old band. The old rock and roll band we’ve been trying to move away from. I was disappointed to hear him say it. I was disappointed he wasn’t excited about the songs. “Fuck it, should I scrap them all?” I asked myself. Then I started to look around the house and understand that if nothing came of these songs… I must be insane. I must be losing it. The stupid research chemical stimulants don’t help. I thought they would. Productivity and all… but I’m just jittery, texting strangers on Instagram for hours, all the while feeling like I should be doing something else. And the television is on in the background, and I told myself I was going to do so much to day. And I did it. And people on Instagram say “you seem busy.” They’ve always said I seem this and I seem that. I never agreed with any of it, but they probably know me better than I do. How could I see myself? I look for myself through a fog and it’s only a ripple of a shadow. A microcosm a million miles away through a hellscape with no up or down, no east or west. They say I’m social. They say I’m a socialite. Really I just get drunk and unleash all my nervous energy on the party or, nowadays, the Zoom meeting.

Today I drink Modello. Ma and Chuck went to the Seattle waterfront for a picnic or something. I didn’t get the details. But the sun should be going down now, and she’s texting me asking if I want to play a board game when they get back. I say yeah sure I do. My temper when I’m off these amphetamines analogues, though… I worry I’ll flip the Pictionary board. Slam dunk the wine glass onto the wood floor. Now the cliffhanger; will this Modello calm my nerves?

This morning I went with mom to buy plants for the garden. I thought we were going to get seeds but she wanted the already grown ones. She was ready to be angry. Nothing made her happy. We went to three different garden store. I think she got some tomatos. How the hell am I going to get out of this one? Feels like the walls are closing in. I feel like I’m in the freezer in the back of McDonalds. I feel so sad for her, but I also feel so sad for myself. I feel cut off. I feel short of breath. I feel terror. It is Friday, April 17, 2020. Dread, terror, paranoia… I’m sure it’s been felt a million times by a million people, but here’s my version of it. In this McMansion on the side of the mountain, feeling less like I have a mission than ever. Calling nobody. Freezing. Yeah I’m freezing.

My brother and I both have drugs to get through this crisis but I’m planning to get off them. I sold him half of my etizolam and half of another shipment of O-DSMT the other day. He wasn’t at all interested in the 2-FDCK, an analogue of the dissociative Ketamine. I am still not really sure what dissociatives do to consciousness. They can move you into states profound darkness. You feel like your life is a black and white film and it is raining outside. And it drips off the palm trees and you sit in traffic on the way back from the Boy’s and Girl’s Club, where the boys and girls wouldn’t listen, they’d just go off into their own worlds. I wonder how they’re all doing now, tucked into their parents houses in Calabasas.

Anyway, I said to Jon “I’m getting off the stuff.” And I intended to. This journal finds me at a crossroads between fantasy and reality. What is my life going to be for? Where do I cast this fishing pole? Well the pole’s been cast. It’s out there in the middle of the ocean. But at the same time it’s in my hand, in this very moment, and I can chose where to dip it. I’m not trying to catch a fish in this scenario, I just like the serenity of the bay.

The question on everyone’s mind is: “If not drugs, then what!?” That’s a great question and I’d be bullshitting if I said I could answer it. I don’t know what lies on the other side of this life. I want to find out. Do I truly? I have to truly. Love, sex, work, victory… I’ve seen all these things before. And I keep turning to these substances. They fill up my days and my hours and all the music is informed by them. They move my hands to play the guitar and my voice is scratchy when it comes out. I’ve formed an identity around these drugs to a certain extent. That idea of me has to die. It does. I’ll have to mourn it. I’ll have to mourn a lot. I guess I don’t know what to be afraid of. I know a lot of stuff is going to come up through this process. The drugs numb it all out. People say that but it’s really really true. Bad news doesn’t don’t hit you as hard. Most things don’t hit you at all. You’re in your world. You’re off in a cloud. You’re unaware of the world around you. You’re afraid to engage. Why?

It’s easier not to ask why. It’s easier to get the immediate relief of a squirt of etizolam tincture. Or a gross tossing of O-DSMT powder into your mouth and a quick washdown with water. In this way you don’t have to answer any questions. In this way nothing hits you. And guess what else? All your heroes did the same thing.

But a lot of them died doing it. And you don’t want to die. You really really don’t want to die. You want to live a long life, with kids and grandkids, and see what happens to America and what music turns into. You don’t want to die, but what do you have to live for? You know you can make things up. Everyone’s always making shit up. All of this is made up. The culture, the value of a dollar, the value of a Benz. We just decide on it. And that takes a lot. But you know what takes a lot less? Deciding how you want to react to each moment. This one and this one and this one. Do you know what I mean? They say a lot of stuff about the world. The world’s fucked. They say the world’s burning to the ground. They say we can’t leave our houses. They say America won’t be a super power by the end of all of this. But they’re making shit up. And I’m making shit up too. I’m whipping up like a chef. Throwing dishes out from the kitchen, but the dishes are words and actions and the kitchen is my mind. What kind of food am I throwing out? What kind of food am I serving the world? Let me serve love and hope. But for that to happen, let me cultivate it in myself first. Let me nurture it like a child. Let me see it sober. Let me take the steps in the right direction. It’s simple. It’s simpler than you think it is. What are you going to do right now, after reading this? Or while reading this? How are you going to face the world?

Jon told me he got into Xanax from the Famous Dex song “Japan.”

“Baby girl, what you doing, where your man? I just popped a xan, fifty thousand in Japan”

He told me his friends heard the song and picked up some Xanax because of it. They liked it and reached out to him “You’ve got to try this,” they said. My little brother, in the throes of this batshit demon force that will bury him. It might bury me too. The jury’s still out. Mom, just let me withdraw in peace. She brings down a space heater. I grow to love it. I lay down on the wood floor that the spiders sometimes dash across. The space heater comes close to burning me, but I’m ok. I stand up, dizzy from all I’ve done to try to combat the withdrawls. Way too much etizolam, way to much kratom, getting to the point of way too much weed and alcohol. But hopefully it’ll all be over soon, and I can call my friends in peace and not want to slam down the phone whenever there is the tiny threat of silence, or whenever I speak, or whenever they speak. I can’t any of it sober, that’s what I think. Life is hard sober; it’s a breeze when you’re floating thru it. A good dream. So why get sober? They say it’ll kill me. Well, I said that. In this very same paragraph. And maybe it will. But when you’re withdrawing like this… all you want is a moment of peace.

Oh God, at dinner tonight I started to go off about my own mental state to the family. I should have known it was a big mistaken, but on my way home from Doordashing a rainy Issaquah I stopped at QFC and got a bottle of True Eagle American Spirits, Kentucky manufactured vodka. And, helping myself to serving of kimchi,  I said to them “I think I’m losing it.” And the conversation spiraled until my mother asked me “Are you suicidal?” And “Are you struggling with drugs?” Jon, between us, must have felt betrayed, but I just wanted to feel understood. I feel Chuck does not want to understand. I understand what he’s sacrificed for the life he has, but what value does that life has to him? He has a tumor in his jawbone, and it’s eating away at him, and no one can do anything. And they can’t get out to the specialists on the East Coast, and they won’t do the invasive surgery. He’s too busy. I know, in some capacity, he understands. Because he blows these things off like they don’t matter at all, when anyday he could have a stroke like Grandma had, fall to the floor of the kitchen while dishing up his kimchi, or pulling a slice of pizza out of the carton. I feel the same way. I have no idea what’s going to happen, but I know that I am mentally unwell. And I avoid the questions about my drug use and about my suicidality. I miss girls, ma. I miss pussy and parties and not giving a fuck. The way I don’t give a fuck now is in these terrifying sound collages drafted on the latest of nights, in the deep dark depths of quaratine. What was I saying in the last one? Something about how I didn’t wanna kill the crabs on the beach on Whidbey Island as a kid. Holy shit I’m losing my mind. But it’s all fine, isn’t it? As long as the music comes out fine.

What could I possibly do to get healthy? I feel so far off the deep end. You have no idea; I feel like crying. My best friend, living with the girl I thought I could always go back to. We don’t talk. I mix these ketamine analogues in with that cheap cheap vodka (plus etizolam) and cry tears onto this plastic table. It’s pointless to keep up the tinder courtships. I feel like this will never end. And it started with such a bang. I was such a part of history. Now I’m a nobody; I’m a junkie, holding on by the thinnest thread. No energy to pray. I feel like Cobain, and I know so many people do… but I really do. I can only imagine. But I’m only listening to Mingus, Lana Del Rey and Radiohead (Kid A thru Hail to The Thief).

Should I throw weed in the mix? Lord knows I have enough of it. It’s my number one priority. I’ve made enough songs now that we could workshop what I’ve come up with years. What else is there to do? Mingus ripped the piano strings out of some pianist’s instrument in front of a live audience, then stormed off the stage. Where the fuck is that in my life? I’m in front of the computer, weeping because America has come to a close. You know they sent jazz to the Soviet Union as a WEAPON? A weapon of freedom and democracy and individualism. What the fuck happened? It all makes me want to cry. It’s all too much; this world. These people I’ve known and loved and lost. This music I’ve made that they promise me will be something, but I don’t know if I believe them. I don’t know if I want anything to do with this life. I can’t engage with my culture anymore… my history. I feel like I’m not a part of it. I feel so disconnected. Who’s rippin the strings out of MY piano? Or who’s piano am I ripping the strings out of? We’ve lost so much… I mean… I’ll do my best to work with what we still have, but we’ve been so fractured. It wouldn’t surprise me if this was the end. Of America. Of our culture. Of our music and our hustle and bustle and industry and lover’s lanes and rites of passage. I feel like I’m mourning it now. Mourning my culture. Maybe mourning the illusion that was sold to us. Believe me, I was first in line to buy. That’s why it destroys me so deeply to see it collapse.

I guess we’re all one people. I’m crying writing this. Weeping, weeping, weeping. Grieving. You know what grieving is. I remember what’s-her-name in the pool. We went to every hot tub, each a different temperature, in the Desert Hot Springs Resort. Then Lucy’s friend’s new boyfriend told us Bernie Sanders had stayed there when he had visited DHS. I laughed so hard. Lucy ordered me another drink. She didn’t mind the cost. She liked me to be on her level. And I didn’t mind. I was proud to sip. We went back to the hotel and did god knows what. Feels a million lifetimes away.

This was back when anything could happen. When America was a blank slate and no one could predict anything. When you could go outside and say “What the fuck is up?” and get in adventures. I mourn the loss of that. Maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe that’s still there. But I’ve emotionally severed my ties to it. And I wish I didn’t. Because I love it. I love it so much. It’s not a myth. I swear to god it’s not a myrh. It was a reality… until all this happened. You have no idea. I mean, if you’re reading this and weren’t around before. You have no idea. I mean… I don’t know what things are going to be like after this. But not the same. There’s no way they could be the same.

You know I hope I get this shit. I hope I contract COVID-19. Lay in this guest bedroom bed with the scabies I may or may not have gotten from Upstart Creative Living… and which wouldn’t die off. I hope I can’t breathe. I hope I’m immune. I want to walk the world. Maybe I should go out, get it, isolate, heal, be immune… if that’s even possible. At this point we don’t even know if immunity is a thing that happens with COVID. But even if I could walk the earth without fear of it… everyone else is cowering, and they pull away from, seeing I’m not wearing a mask or gloves, or even if I am… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it would all end this way. I would have done so much more. Focused so much more on each kiss. Even every note. I did my best, I guess. It feels like it’s all coming to an end. It’s Thursday, April 23, but that doesn’t mean anything. You have to understand how little dates mean in this time. It’s like we’re living in one of those time capsules buried beneath the walkway at WWU. Stagnant… yeah we write songs and poems and do our work and keep the economy from faltering completely… but there’s a different angle to look at it all now. The world is over. I mean, aha, to use the words of Rem… “It’s the End of the World As We Know It.” Key words: “As we know it.” I had no idea this would happen in my lifetime… I couldn’t even conceive it. If you would have told me this would have happened six months ago I wouldn’t have believed it. America seemed so stable. And now it feels like it’s in shambles. It really did feel stable. You may think I’m insane for saying America in September, 2019 seemed stable… but shit, we were free. And we were headed where we were headed. This throws a wrench in all of this. And it could be the end. And I thought this was the greatest country on earth. Happiness is a buttery, try to catch it like every night.

I’ve been fascinated in American history since I could understand it. Most specifically, I’ve been fascinated about how history is still happening. The closer you get you the current day, the harder it is to get a straight story. FDR did what he did and we won. That’s fact. That’s cement. Nixon? Everyone agrees he was a crook. But what about Reagan? What about Bush Sr? What about Clinton? The closer you get to the modern day, the more difficult it becomes to discern what is real and what is fake.