#often in front of everybody else passengers and coworkers

[ceasarslegion]

Would love to tell this job to go fuck itself in favour of being a park ranger but unfortunately every national park that has given me an offer is somewhere where the cost of living is so egregious that the salary doesn't even begin to cover it. Maybe I should try for park warden instead

[prettyboyreid]

rafe doesn't know.

JJ Maybank x Reader, Rafe Cameron x Reader

When the reader realizes how bad her relationship is with Rafe Cameron, she turns to JJ for a little help.

Warnings: Manipulative relationship with Rafe, cheating

Word count: 3,586

Late summer nights in the Outer Banks were hot, humid, and miserable for almost everyone on the Cut. There was hardly any wind, the sun didn’t set until almost 9:30, and the heat still lingered as if it were three in the afternoon.

The docks that ran along The Wreck were no exception, the only wind coming from the large waves as they hurled over the sands and onto the beach. It was made even more miserable by your boyfriend, who hadn’t spoken a word to you since the two of you left your table at the restaurant. Rafe leaned against the rickety wooden fencing along the dock, looking out onto the waves as they got darker the further the sun dipped below the horizon. His face was stoic and rigid as he kept his focus on whatever laid miles out into the water, doing everything in his power to keep his attention off of you.

This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the two of you. He’d get pissed off at something little and stupid you apparently did (and sometimes something you didn’t even do), but he claimed he still wanted to spend time with you. So, the two of you would stand in complete silence, while he practically ignored you and you would pretend that you didn’t notice.

It was just easier this way.

“It’s getting kind of late, my parents are gonna want me home soon,” you muttered under your breath to your boyfriend, not taking your eyes off of the frothing waves a couple feet in front of you. Rafe just grunted, his gaze focused on the same spot for a few more minutes, before he finally stood up and began to walk towards his car. It was assumed and understood by the two of you at this point that you would just follow him.

Once you got to the car and got into the passenger seat, you settled back into the seat that had been heated by the setting sun while he turned on the engine, barely waiting until everything was on as he pulled quickly out of the parking lot and down towards the other end of the Cut, where you lived.

It was always surprising to you, and probably everybody else, that Rafe was dating someone that didn’t live in Figure Eight and wasn’t… well, a kook - like him. He always spoke down on the Cut and the people that lived there, even after you two had started going out, but he always said he saw something special in you. Something different. You never questioned when he started dropping by your work more often, flirting with you back and forth across the hotel bar, and leaving tips that you would consider more than generous. Plenty of kooks had done that to you before, just trying to get brownie points and make themselves feel a little better and more charitable. You were, however, surprised when Rafe Cameron asked you out on a date almost a year ago, even offering to have his younger sister, Sarah, go along with you to get you a new dress for the occasion.

“You know he’s probably just going to use you, right?” your one coworker had warned you, as if he had had plenty of experience dealing with Rafe. You had already agreed to go on a date with him, but that comment felt as if it were even more of an incentive to go out with him. Once he had asked you to be his girlfriend after three dates, you almost always made a point to rub it in your coworker’s face that he wasn’t just using you.

Lately, though, you started to think he might have been right all along.

“You wanna tell me what that whole thing was back there at The Wreck?” he finally spoke up, breaking the silence that had been stretched out ever since he had paid for their dinner nearly an hour ago.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his question, not even sure what he was upset about this time. “What are you even talking about, Rafe?” you asked, your voice clearly noting how tired you had gotten of him and his shit over the course of your evening together.

“You know exactly what I mean,” he bit back, glancing over at you every few seconds as he drove. “You barely talked to me! You kept talking with Kiara when we were supposed to be on a date,” he huffed out, running his hand back through his hair that looked like it had just a bit too much gel in it.

You scoffed at how dramatic he was being, rolling your eyes a bit as you leaned back into the leather seat. “She was our waitress! And she’s my friend. I’m allowed to have friends besides you,” you muttered, shaking your head slightly.

Lately, Rafe had gotten more and more insufferable. It was like you were supposed to only spend time with him and maybe a few of his friends, if he was okay with it. He practically cut you off from the rest of your own friends, and you didn’t even notice until months went by without hearing a single word from your friends. Kiara was the only pogue who still talked to you out of her own choice. John B and Pope avoided you like the Plague, and JJ… you were lucky if you even saw JJ anymore.

Rafe just shook his head in response, chuckling as if he didn’t take a single word you had said seriously.

That was the last you had heard from him for the rest of the car ride. You were lucky if he spared you a glance when he made a right turn, but even then it was as if he did everything in his power to look around you.

Thankfully, it was a short drive back to your place. You lived in one of the nicer parts of the Cut, but it still wasn’t much compared to what Rafe was used to. He had once made a joke about how your house was about the size of his dad’s boat. You just laughed it off at the time, wanting the pretty boy from Figure Eight to think you had a sense of humor so he would like you more.

He parked his car on the street in front of your house, finally looking over to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Dad said he was gonna leave a little later, so I’ll probably come to get you to go out on the boat around noon instead,” he told you, acting as if nothing had happened, like he hadn’t gotten upset at all, like he hadn’t ignored you for half of your evening.

You just sighed but nodded, mustering up the most authentic smile that you could. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll just… be here,” you told him, nodding back towards your house. He nodded again, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he seemed to get lost within his own thoughts.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up then. Love you,” he said, his voice flat, the way you were sure you sounded on the phone with visitors and customers at the hotel.

You just smiled anyway, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Love you too,” you told him, before quickly getting out of the car. The second your feet hit the gravel of your driveway, you heard his car speeding off.

He wasn’t very subtle about not liking your neighborhood too much.

You began the slow, long walk up your driveway until you decided you wanted to sit by the beach for the while, quietly making your way around your house before heading down to the shore. You kicked off your sandals in the grass before you sunk your feet into the warm sand, running your hands back through your hair as you sat down. You didn’t want to admit how exhausting it was keeping up with Rafe and his mood swings, but you always felt so drained by the time he dropped you off or you left his house.

You weren’t too sure how much time had passed - fifteen minutes? An hour? - before you heard the sloshing of someone walking through the water. You glanced up to see a shirtless, soaking wet blond headed for you, a surfboard tucked under his arm as he flipped some of his damp hair out of his face.

��Have you been out here long?” he asked curiously, setting down the surfboard and sitting on top of it, resting his arms on his knees as he looked out onto the waves, though instead of looking angry and stoic, he looked thoughtful - much more calm than your date had seemed. It was different. A nice different.

You shrugged a little bit, pulling your hair out of your face as you looked over at him. “I don’t think so. An hour, tops,” you told him, leaning back so your hands dug into the warm sand behind you.

The blond boy just nodded, his fingers twisting the shark tooth hanging around his neck slowly as he kept his gaze on the rolling waves. You could practically see him thinking over the next thing to say, not wanting to make you any more upset than he assumed you already were.

JJ Maybank had found you in this same spot about a month earlier, probably around the same time. It was after a particularly terrible date with Rafe, one that had left you with tears running down your reddened face and your throat sore from yelling about whether or not you were flirting with Kelce earlier that day. You hadn’t even let him drive you home; you walked all the way from Tannyhill to the patch of beach behind your house. You were glad you walked, though, despite the fact that your legs were sore and your feet were cramping, because it gave you some time to blow off steam and calm down.

You sat down in the same spot behind your faded, small house compared to Rafe’s, the waves rather large for an early June evening. The sun had finally set and a few stars poked out across the darkening sky. It was relaxing and quiet, the opposite of what you had just left twenty minutes before.

Just like tonight, the blond-haired pogue came over to you, hollering something back to Pope as he made his way into his house about two blocks down from you. You assumed he didn’t see you at first, considering how startled he looked when he nearly tripped over you.

“Oh, hey, I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d be out here,” JJ said, running a hand back through his damp hair. The ocean water remaining on his body dripped slowly into the sand as he stood over you, waiting for a response.

You gave him a weakened smile, tucking some hair away from your face as you looked up at him. “My date ended a little earlier than it was supposed to,” you told him, your voice slightly coarse from yelling and crying.

He gave you a bit of a frown as he noticed that, probably as well as your puffy eyes and red cheeks, before sitting down on his surfboard next to you. He always seemed to be more distant, less emotional than the rest of his friends. Which is why he shocked you when he asked after a few moments of quiet, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You raised your eyebrows a bit and looked over at him, unable to hold back a soft laugh. The big, bad JJ Maybank, the ultimate pogue stereotype, was asking you if you wanted to vent to him. It seemed comical. “Really? ‘Do you wanna talk about it’? Don’t you want to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so’?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest.

His eyebrows knitted together at this, looking down into his lap for a brief moment. “Would you rather I tell you that? Because I have a lot I could say or do instead of letting you talk about it,” he said, though you could tell he was (mostly) joking.

You let out a huff, running your hands back through your hair before you explained the situation to him. From when you first noticed Rafe getting jealous and overly possessive when a touron managed their way into a Boneyard party and started talking to you about the island, all the way up until that night, when he got pissed at you just for being nice to his friend.

“I just can’t even tell what he wants from me anymore, you know? Like, I don’t want to spend our relationship feeling like I can only talk to him. What’s next, does he want me not to talk to his dad?” you complained to him, bringing your long, much needed rant to a close. JJ hadn’t taken his eyes off you, letting you know silently that he was listening to whatever you needed to say. He’d be stupid if he couldn’t realize how much you needed to get that out.

“If you’re so unhappy with him,” he started - a rather poor way to start off when talking about something like this, really - “Then why don’t you just… break up with him?” he asked once he realized you were done talking.

You shook your head gently, resting your hands on your knees as you looked up to the sky sparkling with stars here and there. “You don’t break up with people like Rafe Cameron. Especially if you’re someone… someone like me,” you said, hating the way it sounded that you were branding yourself. You expected some snide remark from him, probably call you a pussy and tell you to figure it out on your own.

Instead, he waited for a moment, before nodding gently, like he understood exactly what you were going through. “You’re worried he’s going to destroy your life.”

You just nodded, scratching at the back of your neck as you kept your anxious gaze focused on anywhere but him, like Rafe would find out you were even in the presence of him. “I know he would. I’d be lucky if I got to keep my job at the hotel and not have to go to the mainland to find a job. I wouldn’t be able to have a life in the Outer Banks unless he wanted me to. There’s no telling what he could do, since he gets so worked up just when I even talk to someone else and-”

JJ cut you off quickly by leaning over and pressing his mouth onto yours, his hand carefully cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin as if wiping away the tears you so desperately needed to let out. You didn’t know what to do at first, the taste of salt water and smoke overwhelming your senses with fireworks as you tried to put your head on straight. But then, as if something clicked in your brain, and you slowly began to kiss him back, your arms moving to wrap around his neck.

After a couple of moments, once you felt your heartbeat slow down and you didn’t feel like you were going to pass out from everything that was happening, JJ pulled back slowly, his hand still resting on your cheek. “Feel better?” he asked in a low voice - almost a whisper, as if someone was suddenly on the empty beach with them.

You just nodded, swallowing thickly as your eyes scanned over his features, from his pink and slightly puffed out lips to his gleaming blue irises to his tanned skin that seemed to glow even in the dead of night.

“Good,” he grinned, running his thumb across your skin before standing up. “If you, uh… if you need anything, you know where I live, and where the Chateau is,” he told you, giving you one last small smile as he picked up his surfboard. He turned to walk away, then looked back at you again.

“Do you want me to walk you back up?”

You smiled softly, pushing yourself up off of the sand and nodding quickly. “Yeah, sure.”

Now, he sat beside you, his feet making the same damp imprints they had weeks ago, knowing exactly how you felt but not wanting to make you upset by talking about it.

After a few long minutes in what felt like a painful silence, you let out a bitter laugh. “He got mad at me for talking to Kiara this time,” you finally told him, figuring his curiosity was bound to get the better of him soon enough anyway. You shook your head a little bit at the thought of it, realizing even more so now how ridiculous it had seemed.

He shook his head as well, his damp blond hair sticking to the sides of his face and head as he looked back out to the rumbling waves. “You know you don’t deserve that, right? To be treated like you’re some… some pet that bends to his will,” he said, toying with the shark tooth hanging around his neck.

You hesitated but slowly nodded, looking over at him properly for the first time that night. “I know. I just… I can’t exactly say anything without him going all ape shit on me. Or calling me crazy. Or whatever new shit he thinks of,” you sighed, scooting closer to the blond so you sat next to him on his surfboard, which was still damp from his hours out on the water.

JJ stayed quiet, not even knowing the proper way to comfort you. You had this talk probably ten times now, maybe more, considering this became your new spot to run to after a bad date or interaction with Rafe, your own little space of solitude that happened to include a blond pogue your boyfriend despised.

You eventually rested your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped one of his arms around you as you sat together, just the company being enough. It wasn’t a terrible and painful silence that made you feel like you were being punished and left you frustrated. It was a calm, almost beautiful silence, one that let you breathe but still feel like you were still with him, not like there was a mile of space between you.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said finally, his gaze fixing from the waves back down to you. His blue eyes glistened as the moonlight hit them just right over the ocean, his blond hair whipping back from his face to leave him on display for you and the stars to see.

You just gave him a small, sad smile, not even sure what you could say to him right now. You knew he was just trying to be helpful, but the longer you were with Rafe, it was like he was holding your head under water, and you knew that it would be worse if you tried to leave him. It was like being stuck under a current, and your foot was lodged between some rocks.

This time with JJ was the only time you felt you could poke your head out of the water, even for a few moments, and just breathe. It was like Rafe didn’t exist, like you didn’t have a responsibility to anyone but yourself. And you relished this time, whether it lasted twenty minutes or two hours. You started to look forward to dates with Rafe, only because you knew that you would eventually see JJ on the beach after, which made you feel slightly more calm. Even happier, sometimes.

“And what if we can’t figure anything out?” you finally asked him quietly, your voice barely audible over the crashing of the frothy waves ahead of you.

All he could do was shrug, not knowing the answer either but obviously doing his best to not make you upset. “Then, what Rafe doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” he told you with confidence, like he was more powerful than all of Figure Eight put together.

You couldn’t help but smile gently up at him, shaking your head softly. “You’re pretty confident in yourself, JJ Maybank,” you grinned, before leaning over slowly and pressing your lips to his, the bitter taste of salt and smoke nearly overwhelming you as you felt his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you closer.

You felt like you could stay there with him forever. Your lips moving with his, your hands on each other more affectionately than anything. It was slow and sweet, and you felt like you wanted to do this - not that you had to.

You eventually moved up onto your porch in your backyard, laying your head on his shoulder while the two of you talked about nothing but also everything. You stayed like that all night, at least until you fell asleep. It felt like the best sleep of your life - you felt at home and safe with JJ, one of your closest friends, and even something more. You wished your night would never end.

You thought the same thing when you woke up to the sound of someone banging on your front door and hollering your name, recognizing the insane and overprotective voice anywhere.

Rafe Cameron was on your front doorstep.

And JJ Maybank was asleep next to you.

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[finnyboywolfhard]

In Your Dreams

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: The reader has a dream about Steve. Angst/fluff.

Warnings: cursing and a brief/insinuated conversation of sex.

Word Count: 2.4K

Y/N looked into the mirror, putting on one final swipe of mascara. She smiled lightly to herself, pleased with how she looked. She felt antsy and nervous for some reason, but she couldn’t quite tell what. A honk outside of her home, jolted her back to reality. She grabbed the bag that was laying on her bed and rushed out the door. upon seeing the maroon BMW idling in her driveway, a rush of butterflies swarmed her stomach and her hands got a bit more clammy. She walked slowly to the car, only to have the sweet boy fun to the passenger door and open it for her. Flush lined her cheeks, and she coyly thanked him for being so sweet.

“Y/N/N, you look absolutely beautiful.”

“Thanks Stevie. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Time seemed to fly by as the she was having the time of her life on the date of her dreams. Steve pulled the car into her driveway and he reached over to lay a hand on top of hers.

“Y/N/N, I...think i might be in love with you.” Her smile spread across her face, beaming with joy at the declaration of love laid forth to her.

“Stevie, I know I’m in love with you.” Closing the distance between the two was her number one priority at the moment. She wanted nothing more than her lips to collide with his. She inched closer and closer and closer...

Y/N’s alarm blared through her room, seemingly louder than normal. She shot up straight in her bed.

“I’m so fucked.” She couldn’t stop thinking about the dream she just had about her best friend Steve Harrington. It had only been a few months since he started working at the video store with her, but just in that short time they, along with Robin, had become especially close. And sure, they playfully flirted and bantered, but that’s what it was, play, right? They were just best friends, right?

As she was getting ready for her shift, her thoughts were racing thinking about the dream she just had about him. She couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened in the dream. She had so much fun, and was super happy. She felt love sick in the dream, and that was starting to seep into her real life.

The drive to work was almost unbearable. She suddenly became hyper aware that she was going to have to see him for their shift in less than five minutes. She obviously couldn’t tell him about the dream, because that would make it seem like she liked him. Which maybe she does, she wasn’t sure what to think. Just as she pulled in, he pulled in from the opposite direction, Robin in his passenger seat. Y/N immediately put her car in park and ran in so she could get the stock job for the day, so she could be alone. She heard Robin and Steve both yelling for her, but ignored them. Her thoughts were starting to swallow her whole.

“Hey Y/N/N.”

“Hi Steve.” She replied back coldly.

“Steve? You never call me Steve, you always call me Stevie. Is something wrong?”

“Everything is fine Steve, now if you’d excuse me, i have to organize all of these or else my ass is grass.” She blankly said to him, turning to focus on her work instead of him. She was also turning away to hide the blush that was beginning to splay across her cheeks. She couldn’t help it. She had one of THOSE dreams about him.

Y/N worked as diligently as she could, with her mind always coming back to Steve. Steve and his perfect hair, and his dorky but lovable personality. Steve and his constant need to make sure everybody else is okay before himself. Steve and his cute voice, and perfect laugh. Steve and his chiseled, yet comfortable body. Steve, Steve, Steve was all she could think about.

“Damn Y/N, who’s the lucky guy you’re drooling over?” She was pulled from her daydream over the dumb boy working the front of store by her other best friend Robin.

“It’s no one.” She glanced to Steve, her heart beating a little faster. “It’s not a big deal.”

“What happened between yesterday and today that you finally know your feelings for Steve?”

“Robin, quiet down. I had one of THOSE dreams about him last night and it’s just kind of throwing me for a loop-Wait, did you say finally know them?”

“Yes, it’s obvious how you feel about him. It’s kinda gross how often you give him puppy eyes. Tell me about this dream you had.”

“Rob, you’re joking right?”

“No, I’m not. Let’s hear it, Y/N/N.” Robins voice was thick with mockery of Steve saying her nickname. Y/N struggled to decide if she should tell Robin about the dream or not, eventually deciding that if she didn’t tell her right now, Robin would get it out of her with constant pestering.

“It wasn’t that bad, okay? It was just one of those dreams where you go to bed thinking about someone one way and wake up feeling completely different.” Robin looked at her, and waved her hand to tell her to continue telling her what happened in the dream.

“Okay, so the dream started with me getting ready for what i assumed to be a date with some random guy. Little did i know, that it was actually a date with Steve. i got into his car, and he told me i was beautiful and i flirted back naturally. And then i had the best date i think i could ever ask for. Literally the date of my dreams. And then we came back to my house and we were sitting in my driveway, and he told me he was in love with me and i told him it back and just when we were gonna kiss my alarm went off. And now I’m royally fucked because i cant even look at him without getting butterflies.”

Robin stared at the girl for a few seconds not saying anything, before bursting into a fit of laughter. Thus causing everyone in the store, including Steve to look back at the two girls standing at the counter. And to those who saw it, was probably a treat. One girl was sitting there cracking up laughing and the other was staring at her mortified as to why she was laughing.

“Robin, calm down. Why are you laughing? People are staring.” Just as she said that, Steve and her made direct eye contact. She quickly looked away, heat spreading through her entire body.

“I’m sorry, like genuinely.But oh my god, I just can’t believe that you’re in love with that dingus.”

“What dingus?” Steve said approaching the two calmly. Y/N’s eyes grew to be as big as saucers.

“No one. I really don’t want to talk about it right now.” Y/N said before turning to Robin and saying, “If you say anything, I will actually murder you.” With that, she walked back to the storage room and continued to organize.

Her shift went agonizingly slow, especially since both her and Steve worked a double. Meaning, when it came time to close only the two of them were left. She finished the stack of movies in the back, and filled out the stock form. After leaving the storage room, she noticed that the drawer wasn’t done yet, and Steve was still cleaning up.

“Y/N/N, that’s technically my job today. You don’t have to do that.”

“If you finish cleaning and I do the drawer, we’ll be out of here a lot quicker than if you did both.”

“That’s true, if we get done quickly, we might be able to make it to old diner on Main Street before they close. Maybe get some food?” Chills raised to her spine and butterflies filled her stomach, yet before she could even think about it she vomited out the words,

“I would love that.” His lips pulled into a dopey grin that she had grown to love over the past few months. Never the less, they both finished up their aspects of the job. Y/N put the money in the safe and reassembled the drawer for tomorrow’s openers and Steve got out the key ready to lock up. The door’s lock was turned and pulled, and they knew it was safe to leave.

“I think we have about forty five minutes until they close if you want to go?” Steve nodded to her asking.

“I’m down, I’ll just meet you over there then.” Her smile shone bright as the sun looking towards Steve. The two got into their cars, and began the trek to the diner.

She was beyond scared. Sure, she had spent plenty of time alone with Steve. Hell, she spent more time alone with him than with Robin. But that was also before she had a dream where they both proclaimed their love for each other. She pulled into the worn down diner with partially shredded booths and faded wallpaper.

She took a deep breath, recalling the memory of the first time they had come here after a long boring shift at the store. The two sat at a corner booth, and were as awkward as two coworkers who had just met two days ago could be. Quickly though, they found their footing in conversations varying from what their plans for the future were to how many times Dustin has described Suzie as being hotter than Phoebe Cates. And even though they had only met a few days prior, Steve already felt comfortable enough to tell her about all of the crazy shit that had gone down over the past few years. All of these conversations happened over French Fries and pancakes.

Three knocks on her window snapped her out of her daze, and she reached over to unbuckle, Steve opening the door for her before she could reach the handle herself. When they went inside, they sat in their regular corner booth. The waitress knew who they were, so only asked for their drink order and told them she put their order in when she saw them walking in.

“Ya know, it feels really nice to be so well taken care of here. Doesn’t happen many other places.” Steve said, fiddling with the sugar packets on the end of the table.

“You can say that again, certainly doesn’t happen at Family Video. If i have to cover one more shift for Keith without getting paid for managerial time I’m gonna lose it.” The two kept light conversation for a bit until their food came out, to which they were silenced by the food they were rapidly consuming.

“Y/N/N.” Steve said, suddenly sporting a serious tone.

“Yes Stevie?”

“What happened today? I don’t know if i did something, but you really scared me this morning. Something was clearly wrong, and i understand that you didn’t want to tell me, but it hurt that you pretended you were fine. And then with the whole Robin thing and how you told her not to say anything. i understand wanting to keep secrets, but... I don’t know... It sucks that you were that upset about me knowing.”

Y/N’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. She never wanted to make him feel like that. She never wanted to make him feel pain. She had never meant for any of this to happen. The girl took a deep breath, still unclear as to what she was going to say to the obviously heartbroken boy in front of her.

“Stevie, I’m so sorry. i just am going through something right now and I don’t really know how to talk about it. Robin pried it out of me, and I didn’t mean to make you feel not included. It’s just a lot.”

“Apology accepted.” he said to her with a smile, before reaching over to lay a hand atop hers. “Just remember that I’m always here for you, okay? And whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here right?” She nodded a yes to him smiling.

“Alright, now did i tell you about Dustin falling down my steps the other day?”

“No you absolutely didn’t.” The two talked lightheartedly until the check was paid and they walked out of the diner still laughing a bit. When they got over to their cars, Steve pulled Y/N into a huge hug. She didn’t let go for a bit, but eventually accepted defeat in staying there forever. She walked over to her car and got in. She let her head hit the steering wheel. A surge of confidence took over her body, causing her to fly out of her seat and get into the passenger side door of his car.

“Y/N/N, what is happening right now?”

“Stevie, I’m gonna try to get this out as quick as i can before going back to my car and leaving. Okay, so why I was so moody today was because last night i had a dream where we went on a date and you told me you were in love with me and we almost kissed but my alarm kinda ruined the moment. All of today i was super nervous around you, because i had never realized how much i really love you until that dream. And now i definitely made things awkward so I’ll see you Thursday for our shift.”

She reached over to get out of the car before feeling a hand grab her arm. She started to turn around, only for a hand to grasp her face and pull her into a long, passionate kiss. The two melded together perfectly, like puzzle pieces that were meant to fit together. The two pulled away after running out of oxygen, both panting as smiles grew on their faces.

“Kinda sucks your dream ended before that, huh?” Steve said jokingly.

“Ha-Ha-Ha.” Her words, dripping with sarcasm.

“In case you couldn’t tell. I’m in love with you too. It’s kinda funny. I had a dream just like that last week, except mine went a little bit further than kissing, if you know what I’m saying.”

“Steve! Slow your roll. We just confessed our love, we can at least wait until tomorrow damn.”

He laughed a little before pulling her in for one last goodnight kiss.

[thedailyimagines]

Imagine getting into a relationship with Barbara Gordon.

Anon requested: “Batgirl (Barbara Gordon) x Male Reader, where the reader is the son of joker and is arch enemy of batgirl, but eventually they end up falling in love and they get into a secret relationship due to their allegiances but later they are found out and they’re relationships spread throughout Gotham and swear to each other to protect one another and come public with their relationship.”

.

This work contains swearing and some pretty heavy violence near the end. Also it is long.

When you see the red WARNING, it’s a sign that the violence is about to start. Skip ahead if you need to.

~~~~~~~~

Being the son of the clown prince of crime sucked. He was, to put it extremely lightly, an asshole. So you made it your job to undermine everything he did. Currently, you had your own gang and were getting ready to rob Gotham’s biggest bank.

With a loud crash, you burst through the doors of the bank with your crew, taking out the security guards posted in the room. In moments you had everyone gathered in the middle of the room.

“Alright everybody, listen up! We’re not here to hurt anybody, just to lighten the bank’s vault! So stay still and quiet, and nobody gets hurt!” Leaving two of your men to watch the hostages, you directed the rest to start emptying out the vault. Soon everything was ready to go.

“Oi, the boss said shut up! So either make the kid stop, or I shut them up myself!” You turned to see one of your henchmen, Pete, yelling at a woman and her child. The woman was trying to calm her child down to no avail.

“Pete, dear, could you come here for a minute?” The henchman looked confused, but did as you said. You took him out of sight of the hostages to where the rest of your men were emptying the last of the vault’s contents.

“What’s up boss?” You smiled sweetly at the goon.

“You know how I feel about threatening children.” Pete’s eyes widened, realizing now you had heard his threat.

“W-wait boss, please—!”

BANG. Pete fell over dead, and you put your gun back in it’s holster. Turning to the other men, you addressed them like you hadn’t just shot one of their coworkers.

“Let Pete here be an example. Don’t break my rules.” The henchmen all nodded. You rolled your eyes when they didn’t start moving. “That doesn’t mean you stop working! Grab everything and let’s get moving!”

<—>

How was it you had the worst luck? First you had to find some new henchmen (stupid Pete), then your getaway driver decided to bail—forcing your crew to steal a car—and now you had to find another window repairman. You should get a discount for the amount of times you called.

“You know, if you asked I’d give you a key to the front door. Or the roof. You don’t have to come crashing through every window.” Batgirl raised her fists, prepared to fight you if necessary.

“You’re going to Arkham clown-boy.” You placed one of your hands over your chest, feigning hurt.

“Ouch. Clown-boy. Listen, I can take being called lots of things, but that’s where I draw the line. I don’t think I can be your nemesis anymore. We’re through now.” Batgirl threw a punch but you dodged it.

“This isn’t a joke. Now are you going to come quietly or do I have to knock you out and drag you back?” You shrugged and gave her a smile.

“Oh come on, lighten up a little Batgirl! It’s not like anyone died!”

“Really? What about the goon in the clown mask?”

“Oh yeah. Forgot about him. He threatened to kill a kid cause they were crying. I don’t like people who do that.” She scoffed and threw another punch, this one connecting with your shoulder when you tried to move out of the way.

“Yet you work with your father.” You caught Batgirl’s fist and pulled her closer to you, tapping her on the nose before releasing her hand.

“Correction: I work against him. I’m currently in the process of blowing his current cash flow to pieces. Make it a little harder to buy bombs and other fun stuff.” She backed away from you and frowned.

“So you can what? Own them for yourself?” You shook your head and crossed your arms behind your back.

“Nope. I really don’t care about gang fighting and all that crap. But I’d rather not have a lunatic running the streets, you know?”

“You’re insane.”

“Technically, yes. But you know me Batgirl. When I ever committed mass murder or something like that?” Before she could answer, a knock came from the door leading out of your ‘office’.

“Boss? Is everything alright in there?” Henchmen. Always interrupting the important things. You rolled your eyes and answered.

“Everything is fine. What do you want?” There was a pause, and the goon replied with a nervous voice.

“Joker’s on the phone. Says he needs to have words with you.” Gah. Couldn’t the clown call at a later time? Preferably never?

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll pick it up in here. Go back to doing whatever it was you were doing.” The henchman confirmed this and left. Batgirl waited til the footsteps had gone before she spoke.

“Some secretary.” You raised your hands up in an ‘I guess’ gesture and walked over to the phone on your makeshift desk.

“What can I say? He’s good eye candy. Only for looking though, wouldn’t want to make you jealous.” She scoffed again, and you picked up the phone.

“Doug Dimmadome, owner of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome.” The voice on the other end screeched, causing you to hold the phone away from your ear. When you held it back, it was less loud but still as annoying.

“—And listen here you sarcastic little shit—” You interrupted the Joker before he could speak any more.

“I’m sorry, but it’s ‘Dr. Sarcastic little shit’. I have a doctorate in sarcasm.”

“You ruined everything! I had the perfect plan to drive Gotham mad laid out, and you ruined it!” You tapped your chin and turned towards the window, your back towards Batgirl.

“Oh yeah, I heard about that.” Your voice took on a mocking tone now. “Did the big bad Batman swoop in and disarm your little gas attack?” The Joker snarled and uttered several more expletives.

“When I get my hands on you, you’ll wish you were never born!” You chuckled into the receiver.

“Too late for that. Good talk, go take a walk off of Wayne Tower.” You hung up the phone and turned to face Batgirl once again, only to find she was gone. Huh. Maybe she got bored of waiting for you?

<—>

Finally, a night off. The bar was a little crowded but it was better than a cold warehouse full of people who probably shared one brain cell between all of them.

“Excuse me, is it okay if I sit here? Everywhere else is full.” You glanced up at the red haired woman in front of you and gave her a smile.

“Yeah! Let me just move my bag.” Once the seat was clear, you pushed it out so she could sit down. The redhead did so with a grateful smile.

“Thanks. My feet were killing me. Name’s Barbara by the way, what’s yours?”

“My name’s y/n. Nice to meet you Barbara.” Barbara tilted her head, trying to get a good look at you. For a moment you thought she recognized you from the news, but brushed that thought aside. You looked pretty different when you weren’t covered in face paint and your usual getup.

“Do you come here often? I don’t think I’ve seen your face before.”

“Nah, only when I’m not busy. Unfortunately those moments are few and far between. You?” Barbara waved down a bartender and ordered a drink.

“Usually I meet my dad here, but he’s working late tonight.” You nodded and took a sip of your own drink.

“Sounds nice. My dad would kill me if I suggested we have dinner together.” Or at the very least, put you in the hospital for a couple of months. That was assuming you would actually talk to him.

“Not a nice guy, huh?”

“That’s underestimating it, but yeah.” The two of you talked for a long time, and at the end of the night exchanged phone numbers. You probably wouldn’t call her, but it was nice to imagine.

<—>

“What the hell did you do to her?!?!” You were glaring in pure anger at your goons, all of whom were staring at you with wide eyes and pale faces.

“She snuck in boss! So we shot her—” Your hand shot out and grabbed the closest thug, the one who had shot Batgirl.

“Are you fucking idiots?!?! She works with Batman! We don’t need him breathing down our necks!” You shoved the man to the ground, running a hand through your y/h/c hair.

“Boss—”

“Shut up. I’ll deal with this myself. I swear if any of you do anything stupid while I’m gone, I’ll make the rest of your short lives hell. Is. That. Clear?” Your henchmen nodded, and you walked over to Batgirl. Picking her up bridal style, you carried her to one of the throwaway cars and loaded her into the passenger seat.

You were halfway to the hospital before you realized you couldn’t take her there. They would have to unmask her and that would most likely ruin her and any of her family’s lives. At the very least the GCPD would throw her in a jail cell.

...What was under the mask? Lots of Gotham’s thugs and lowlifes assumed the Batman was a robot or something, but what about Batgirl? You parked the car and looked at the unconscious superheroine. Surely a look couldn’t hurt?

The mask slid off easier than you expected. Your eyes widened as you saw the face of Batgirl—but you had seen her before.

“Barbara?” She groaned and opened her eyes. The first thing Barbara saw was you, your face painted and clothes covered in blood. Then she saw her mask in your hands.

“You bastard!” You raised your hands to stop her from murdering you right there and then.

“Wait Barbara, listen to me!” Barbara froze at the sound of her name.

“How the hell do you know my name?”

“Do I really look that different with face paint on?” Dropping the mask in her lap, you grabbed a towel from the backseat and scrubbed your face with it, until you were sure all the paint was gone. “Now do you recognize me?”

“You! You’re the guy from the bar!” Her surprise turned back to rage. “We’re you just spying on me? Trying to get information about me?”

“No! I didn’t know it was you, I just...I was curious. I wanted to see under your mask.” Barbara put her fist down, wincing at the pain in her side. She almost forgot, she had been shot. Her future really was in y/n’s hands now.

“So what are you going to do now?” You shrugged and drummed your fingers on the steering wheel.

“I’m not turning you in or anything. And you’re still bleeding. Do you have a place where I can drop you off, or...?” Barbara let out a sigh of relief, knowing you wouldn’t blab about her secret identity.

“I can contact Batman and he can pick me up. I just need to be dropped off somewhere.” You nodded and let her make the call, then dropped her off where she directed.

<—>

Five months.

Five months was all it took to start a relationship with Barbara Gordon. It was a rocky start, but it was easy when nobody knew your alter ego.

And it was almost a year after that, the night before your anniversary, when you received a call from the Commissioner that she was in the hospital.

A gunshot wound. The Joker has gone to her apartment and shot her. Tortured her father. All just to get back at the Batman.

You took a trip to the hospital to see Barbara, the sight of her hooked up to machines filling you with rage. When you left you drove straight to Arkham. You still had a few connections there and soon you were waiting in one of the various abandoned sub levels.

The door to the room you were in banged open and two Arkham guards dragged the Joker into the room. They threw him to the ground and looked to you for instructions.

“Leave. Call the Batman if you want. I don’t care. He stays.” The guards looked to one another, then nodded. When they left you turned to face the Joker.

“You know, I never thought you were so stupid. You may be crazy, but stupid was never really on the list. Yet you went after the commissioner’s daughter and the commissioner.”

“So what? It’s not like you had a personal stake in this.” You regarded your father with a cold expression, from his arms being restrained by a straight-jacket and to his face covered with bruises.

“You paralyzed a girl from the waist down, humiliated and tortured her father, and for what?” You grabbed his chin and leaned in close to the green haired madman. “Just so you could have the attention of the one person who you want to break? News flash asshole; He won’t pay attention to you beyond kicking your ass.” The Joker jerked his face away and gave you his signature grin.

“So what now? You drop me in Gotham Harbor? Feed me to Harley’s mongrels? Ooo, I know! Hand me over to some of Arkham’s nastiest to have a little one on one with me!” You turned away and grabbed something from the bag you brought with you.

“You might wanna close your eyes.” The Joker frowned now.

WARNING: VIOLENCE AHEAD

“What? Why—!” With a loud CRACK, the baseball bat you held connected with the side of Joker’s face. Over and over you rained blows down on him, not letting up until the bat finally broke from the stress.

You weren’t done yet. Going back to your bag you pulled out several metal spikes, their points barely sharpened. Ever-so-slowly you pinned the Joker to the floor, relishing in his grunts of pain. Once he was pinned down you pulled out your knife, a gift from (ironically) Harley for your birthday.

You carved into his skin, making sure each cut would scar permanently. But you left his face alone. You wanted people to see just who this was. That the Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime, wasn’t invulnerable.

By the time you let up, the Joker was a bruised, bloody mess. He would live. His injuries would take weeks, probably months to heal. And even then he would still be in pain for the rest of his life.

VIOLENCE HAS ENDED

The Batman found you not long after. You were sitting on a crate messing with your phone. The Joker laid nearby, beaten beyond a bloody pulp and unconscious, but still breathing.

“Why did you do this?” The Batman was shocked, but didn’t show it. He almost didn’t believe anyone was capable of doing this to their father, even if he was the Joker.

“You can’t tell me he didn’t deserve it.” You put your phone away and looked up at the Batman, his face unreadable beneath the cowl.

“Why?” Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair. You really weren’t getting out of answering his question, were you?

“He hurt my girlfriend.” Batman frowned a little more.

“Who—” You cut him off before he could finish the question.

“Barbara. She and I have been dating for about a year now. He fucking shot her. This is the least I could have done to him.” Shock silenced the bat, but soon he spoke.

“...You should go see her.” You raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Not going to arrest me?” He shook his head.

“She needs you now. We’ll talk later.” You took a moment, then stood up and headed for the exit. The Batman was right.

And you needed to see how Barbara was doing.

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.

[fanficsofmine]

Wake Me Up - Chapter 3

Summertime. Young. Single. Free.

You were living your dream life. You had a great place, amazing friends and a steady job. Independent and happy and free, what more could you ask for?

You didn’t think that meeting Chanyeol at a concert or Minho on the beach would influence your life as much as they did. They weren’t supposed to, anyway.

What exactly are you to do with whirlwind romances that show up when you weren’t expecting them?

Characters: Park Chanyeol, Choi Minho, OC’s and appearances by others.

Soundtrack: Geronimo - Sheppard

Chapter 1, 2

We couldn’t stay late this time. We had added several hours to our trip home and both Presley and I had to be at work early in the morning. It was hard to say goodbye, though. Chanyeol and I linked pinkies as we walked to the car. My heart sank more and more with every step. We exchanged phone numbers on the way, and he promised to FaceTime me from the road as often as he could.

He got to the passenger side with me, but neither of us reached for the handle to open the door. I reached down and fiddled with his shirt. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get this back to you…”

He reached down and cupped my chin, gently forcing me to make eye contact with him. “This isn’t the last time that I’m going to see you. We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

I smiled at his promise and nodded. He leaned forward and gave me another small kiss before Kihyun, from the drivers side with Presley said, “we really should let them get on the road.” We all agreed and Chanyeol finally opened my door for me. I got into the car and, after one final kiss to my forehead, he shut it.

We started driving home, and I promised to stay up with Presley as best as I could. We talked about her future with Kihyun and what they were going from here. The only answer she had for me was a shrug.

“I missed him. It was like a wave crashed on me when I saw him again, yknow?” I did know. That feeling was all too familiar for me, which is why it made me nervous.

“You don’t think you’re just forgetting the bad to focus on the good? I mean, you told me a ton of stuff he had done to you. I just don’t want bad habits to repeat just because y’all had a good weekend.”

“If they do,” she said, “then at least I got to experience the rush of being giddy again.”

“You don’t want to experience the rush of being giddy over someone new?”

“Different rushes.” Presley looked at me and smiled. “Why? New rush overwhelming you a bit.”

I was glad it was dark, because I knew that I had blushed. I cleared my throat. “Yeah. I… uh… I’m not really sure where that came from.”

“You’re the last person I ever expected to have something like that happen to you.” Presley said. “You’ve been so shut off from the idea of a relationship lately.”

Nodding, I said, “I know. After Mark…” I rolled my eyes. “But maybe that’s why this happened; because I wasn’t looking for it? Does that make sense?”

The drive was rough. Over halfway, I ended up taking over for Presley since she was struggling to keep her eyes open. We made it back to my apartment around 4 am, and both immediately crashed out. Presley made it to the couch and didn’t even wait for me to get her a change of clothes or a blanket. I was fairly certain that I had fallen asleep while walking to my room.

My alarm rang at 7:30 and I whined. I knew that I couldn’t call in. My boss had overheard me talking about my trip, so she had made a comment in passing about “making sure I show up on Monday.” I woke Presley up so she could use the second bathroom to get ready and she rummaged through my closet for work clothes to wear. After a quick shower and light make up, I trudged my way out the door in an outfit that, more than likely, wasn’t going to be considered “professional” enough. I was too exhausted to care though.

My morning conference started out as hell. The coffee I had made at the office had run out too quickly and was taking its time in letting its caffeine kick in. There was no way that everybody around me didn’t notice my eyes flutter closed once or twice. At one point, my coworker Jongdae kicked me under the desk to jolt me awake. I appreciated the gesture, but would have liked his kick to hurt less. Eventually, though, the meeting ended. My boss reiterated the importance of finishing the reports due tomorrow and I nodded as I headed off to my desk to plug headphones in and to block out everyone else.

Punching numbers and collecting data for things such as stock increases and decreases was boring enough as it was. Add in that, tomorrow, my extra quarterly report of what the budget increases would allow for pay increases, and my day felt set up for failure. I groaned to myself that I would never, ever take a trip like that again when I heard a voice over my headphones.

“Long weekend?”

I spun to see Jongdae standing there with a venti from Starbucks stretched out to me.

“I am 99 percent sure that you are my guardian angel.” I gasped as I reached out for the coffee, without even knowing what was inside of the cup. Luckily, Jongdae and I had done enough coffee runs together that he knew how to flavor my coffee for me.

“One day,” he started as he pulled a chair up next to me, “I’m going to get you something completely different, just to watch your face when you take a sip.” I laughed, but silently feared that day.

“How was the trip?” he asked. Jongdae was my one coworker I could be completely honest with. We had trained together, and he and his girlfriend, Nikki, were one of the only other couples I could tolerate being around without feeling like a third wheel.

I thought about how I was going to answer, but Jongdae said, “ahhh! What’s that smile for?!” My hand flew to cover my mouth and I realized that, just even thinking about Chanyeol had brought a grin to my lips.

Embarrassed, I shushed him before spilling the whole story. His eyes grew wide as he said, “wait, wait, wait. Miss ‘I cancel a date because a guy called me pretty so he’s obviously moving too fast’ has met her match?”

“Shut up, Dae.” I rolled my eyes. “Let’s be honest. Now that the weekend is over, I’ll probably never hear from him again.”

Saying those words out loud settled some disappointment in my chest that I didn’t dare show outwardly.

As if the universe was laughing at me, in that exact moment, my phone lit up on my desk. Chanyeol’s name flashed across the screen and my cheeks grew warm.

“Sure. Never again.” Jongdae winked at me and stood up to leave my office. I thanked him again for the coffee, then, after a quick scan to make sure my boss wasn’t around, I opened the text.

Received text: Good morning, gorgeous.

Sent text: Good morning sleeping beauty.

Received text: hey! In my world, waking up before 11 is waking up early.

Sent text: oh the life of a rock star. It must be so difficult to be you.

Received text: thank you for acknowledging my struggle.

Received text: I hope your morning hasn’t been too rough.

Sent text: I’m pretty exhausted.

Sent text: ...but it was worth it.

Received text: I’m glad to read that. What time are you off? Wanna FaceTime before my show tonight?

Sent text: sure! I’ll try to leave by 5:30.

Received text: I’ll talk to you soon then.

I laid my phone back down and got butterflies all over again. He wanted to FaceTime?! It was only one day, but he was genuinely making an effort. I started to wonder how long that would last, but I also knew that I couldn’t do that to myself. I needed to enjoy this for what it was. Whatever it was- it was nice.

Making sure I had hit send on my reports, I grabbed my bag and bolted out of the doors at exactly 5:30 pm. Jongdae told me to slow down and shouted something about leaving when he still has reports to do. I waved my phone at him and told him I would fill him in tomorrow, which didn’t lessen his whines.

Thankful I lived close, I sped home, only slowing down for red lights and the one speed trap that I knew a cop hid behind. I don’t even remember running to my apartment and unlocking the door. Desi’s voice was laced with confusion as she asked if I was okay as I sprinted past her in the kitchen to get to my room. I said, “tell you in a minute!” before shutting the door and sitting on my bed. I took a deep breath, opened my front facing camera to make myself look less disheveled, and then pulled up Chanyeol’s contact name to hit “call.”

It only rang a few times before his face filled my screen. The giddy feeling was back. He beamed at me and I couldn’t help but smile back at his infectious grin.

“She lives!” he cheered.

“Barely! I’m surprised I’m even awake right now. You should feel special that I didn’t come home from work and just pass out.”

“Well thank you for gracing me with your presence!” he teased.

We talked about my day and my job. He asked for details on the reports I had to be done, and it was nice to talk to someone so genuinely interested in learning about me. He told me about their drive from Austin to Albuquerque, New Mexico. Apparently Kihyun and Dojoon had argued about Presley and what it meant for the band since the last time, apparently there was drama.

“It’s great song writing material, isn’t it?” I joked. Subconsciously, I got worried that this would mean bad news for Pres in the future.

Chanyeol shrugged. “Not my relationship. Not my business. They tried to bring you up too but I told them that was my business, not theirs.” I felt a twinge if guilt for gushing about him to other people when he seemed to want to keep it between us, but that faded when he finally said, “I did end up telling them that I thought you were great and I couldn’t wait to get to know you better.”

His ears turned red and he bit his bottom lip, waiting for my reaction to his confession.

“Well, Chanyeol, the feeling is definitely mutual.”

Relief crossed his face and I heard Kihyun in the background calling out to him.

Chanyeol looked disappointed as he said, “I guess it’s time for our sound check. I’ll text you after the show?” I nodded and told him I would talk to him later.

The second that we hung up, Desi threw my bedroom door open.

“Who. the. hell. was. that?!” Her eyes were wide and each word was accented heavily

I buried my face in a pillow and began laughing. She sat down and I filled her in on the whole story. I told her Chanyeol was the reason we had gone to Austin and added an extra day to the trip. I showed her his shirt that I had kept. She stared at me in disbelief.

“You hate love!” she shouted at me.

“I do not!” I objected.

“Yes you do!” Collin called ou tfrom the other room.

“Hey! I didn’t receive your RSVP to this conversation!” I yelled back.

Desi laughed but said, “this is good! This is growth! You’re opening up! That’s amazing.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not getting married tomorrow. I’m just…” pausing, I realized that I had no clue what I was doing. “What the hell am I doing?!” I looked at her and she shook a finger at me.

“Don’t you dare start that! Don’t do that thing where you overthink things!”

“I’m offended at your accusation!” I swung my pillow at her.

“Give this a chance,” Desi’s voice was soft and serious. “You deserve to be happy in love again.”

Sighing, I told her she was right.

We ordered delivery and, immediately after, I passed out. I was so exhausted from not sleeping for most of the weekend that, although I wanted to wait up for Chanyeol’s text, I knew that it wasn’t going to happen.

The next morning, I woke up and, after shutting off my alarm, saw one unread message from Chanyeol on my phone.

Received text: I hope you’re sleeping well, lovely. Talk to you in the morning.

I pulled my phone close to my chest and couldn’t help the smile that crossed my lips. Maybe this was going to be a very good thing after all.

[speedilyloudpaper]

1 0    t o    w i n

‘OK Jeff. Which group supported Smokey Robinson on The Tears of a Clown in 1970?’

A clock sound effect ticks.

‘Um.. I think that were The Miracles’

Ding

‘Correct, well done! Question 10, listen carefully… name the song title and artist of the following 90s one hit wonder.’

‘You’ve got this, Jeff!’ adds the radio Dj, nonchalantly. Despite his genuine admiration at Jeff’s knowledge of music, he couldn’t make himself interested in the outcome of today’s Ten to Win.

And if you think

That I've been losing my way

That's because I'm slightly blinded

And if you think

That I don't make too much sense

That's because

I'm broken minded

Jeff did have this, he remembers playing a cover of it when he was younger. Suddenly he’s back on stage of the Hillsborough Working Men’s club, clad in freshly ripped jeans and a white T shirt with the sleeves rolled over his shoulders, thrashing his bass guitar like his life depended on it. Yes, he can see the setlist in front of him in his mind’s eye.

‘I think that was... Inside, by um Stiltskin’

‘Congratulations Jeff! That’s 10 out of 10, you really do know your music. You just won yourself a digital radio!’

Jeff feels immense elation having won the quiz, indeed this is the most exciting thing that has happened to him all year.

‘Aw fantasti-’

‘Yeah really well done. Is there anyone you’d like to give a shoutout to, Jeff?’

Jeff sits on the sofa in his living room with his new smartphone held next to his ear, wearing an old Aerosmith T shirt and dressing gown. The room is small and sparsely furnished, with a threadbare carpet and dated off white floral wallpaper. Beside the sofa is a small wooden cabinet. Across the room, next to a fireplace in which stands an electric fan heater, is a huge flat screen impulse-bought television playing on mute. There are no ornaments other than a few photographs on the mantelpiece and an ashtray on the cabinet. Old and yellowing white lace curtains droop over the window, allowing in a little light. In the corner by the window sits an acoustic guitar on a black stand.

‘Um, yeah.. There’s my cousin Derek, who’ll be listening at work’ says Jeff. His cousin wouldn’t usually be the first person to enter his mind, but hearing that track had started a flood of memories of his days in his old band, which Derek, or Del back then, was the lead singer, along with his best mates Tony and Gaz on drums and guitar. The memories bring a wave of nostalgia, but also something else.

‘Also my two sons, Will and Joey, they’re both at their mother’s today, but they said they’d listen t’ the show… um.. All the fellas at work and… and’

He stares at the bare wall above the television set. Suddenly his eyes feel weary and his face feels heavy. Another memory comes to him.

He’s sitting in the passenger seat of his uncle’s van with his bandmates, their equipment in the back. BBC radio 2 is playing over the speakers, for background noise and so the guys could complain to each other about radio stations never playing ‘real music’. In truth, Jeff quite liked the old pop songs they would play, but he wouldn’t have told any of the others. He liked and respected most genres of music, which was probably what made him the most talented at writing songs for the band.

A man had just lost a quiz and was asked if he’d like to mention anybody. It was always men or women of a certain age, who would proceed to reel off a pre prepared list of people they knew like they’d just won a BAFTA, usually followed by the line ‘and anybody else who knows me that I haven’t mentioned’, like everybody they’ve ever met is listening, and they can shout in all of their faces ‘Remember me? Look at me now! I’m on radio!’, Jeff thought.

‘Listen to this guy, makin’ such a big deal of being on the radio’ grunts Tony distastefully, his elbow resting on the window frame, holding a lit cigarette out of the window. ‘I bet this feels like his 15 minutes of fame. After he hangs up he’ll go back to being a fuckin’ nobody.’ The rest nod in agreement. ‘I tell you now lads’ he continues ‘we’re not gonna be like that. We’ll be on the radio alright, just not doing a stupid quiz’

‘Hopefully we won’t be played on a crap station like this.’ adds Jeff, earning him a few chuckles from the others. He didn’t like classing people as nobodies or successes, but he did agree with his mate. In fact each member of the band had a desire to make something of themselves. He supposed it was due to angst of growing up in a small northern town, however he was sure that in himself, and perhaps the others, it came from something much deeper, didn’t it?. It was about doing more with his life than he watched those around him do. He didn’t want to live in the future, in the past or only at the weekend, he wanted to really live for every second, following his passion and putting his heart into what he did; and what he was passionate about, more than anything, was music.

‘Jeff? Sorry I’m going to have to hurry you up’

‘Um yeah. Sorry. A-and...’ he lets out a sigh and a dry laugh, almost mocking himself.

‘And everybody who knows me who I haven’t mentioned’ he hears himself say.

The nostalgia recedes like an ocean tide, leaving him empty and all too aware of the present moment, the empty flat, the familiar silence except the sound of water running through pipes and occasional quiet whoosh of a car passing outside. The radio host says something but he isn’t listening, and he’s put on hold.

Jeff thinks of all the people who know him who he hasn’t mentioned. Other members of his family, who he keeps meaning to see more often, his friends he meets at the weekends to play pool and get drunk, and his coworkers, who he sees almost every day.

Cher’s ‘If I Could Turn Back Time’ plays in his ear, distorted and crackling, as he pictures the last 20 years of faces, and with the faces, memories.

The band had played regularly for three years, playing to crowds that increased in size each night, earning themselves a small following. One of their best performances was at a nightclub in Leeds, to a crowd of over a thousand people. The frenzy of the crowd was like nothing the band had seen before. People were jumping up and down and bouncing off of each other like one giant crazy pounding mass of screaming faces and waving arms that could burst through the walls. The energy that came off this thing was immense, like a powerful force that spurred the band to another level. By the end of the show, each member of the band was utterly worn out and dripping with sweat, the pickups on Gaz’s guitar were splattered with blood from his fingers (which they all found extremely cool).

It wasn’t just the performance that made that night so special for Jeff, it was also the night he met his wife. After the show, the band had gone to the club’s bar, where each had necked the most refreshing beer they would ever taste. After ordering a second they were approached by a girl with red lipstick and a big wavy hairstyle, who introduced herself as Debbie, saying how great the performance was. She was clearly drawn to Jeff more than the others, to his surprise. Admittedly, being the bass player, he was often overlooked by their female fans after the show, something that Del and Gaz would enjoy winding him up about. Because of this, and the fact he was still coated with sweat and had beer dripping from his chin, he didn’t expect her to be interested in him, but she was, and the two got on well. She had travelled with the band for a while before moving into Jeff’s flat. She saw Jeff as a perfect opportunity to get away from her parents, and the fact he played in a rock band was an added bonus. Perhaps she had rushed things a little, but she did suppose she loved him.

Six months later. The two are in the kitchen. Debbie is pregnant. The two had known for a while, yet neither had really mentioned the changes that were soon to come, especially regarding the band. Eventually she decided they’d avoided it for long enough, and brought it up one day before breakfast. She explained that having a baby meant that he’d have to get a job with a more steady income, and that he wouldn’t be able to travel as much with the band anymore. Of course Jeff had already thought about this, he just didn’t want to face the truth. On top of this, she also said that traveling with the band had had an effect on her as well, and that they weren’t spending as much time together as she’d like. This he hadn’t thought about. Obviously they weren’t the only couple to have thought about this, as a day later, the band were in Gaz’s living room, his girlfriend in the kitchen, when Gaz suggests that they call it quits on the band. They all eventually agree.

Del manages to get Jeff a job at Hardy & Co, the factory where Del’s brother worked. Jeff remembers being in the interview, sat across from some miserable looking manager, who had huge bags under his eyes and yellowed uneven teeth and sour breath, trying to explain his O levels and how hard he was willing to work blah blah blah, when all he could really think about was leaving his dreams and passion behind for a 9 to 5 job that meant nothing to him. He got the job and since then life had gone on like it does for most. He and Deborah got married. The baby was born followed by another a year later. At the factory he worked his way from floor assistant to supervisor. He struggled to think of anything that had made his life much different from the thousands of other ‘nobodies’ his age, apart from, maybe, the fact that his wife cheated on him. Then again that might be more common than you think, he thought, if television dramas are anything to go by.

Of course, he hadn’t spent his life in misery, dwelling on the fact that his band never became a major success. He’d had his ups and downs like anybody. There had been moments of immense happiness, such as his wedding day or when he held his children for the first time. In fact, until hearing that song in the radio quiz, he hadn’t thought about his band or old dreams in a few years. He never forgot his love of music either, as he was always listening to new tapes and CDs, and was known by his colleagues as the man to go to to settle an argument about who topped the charts in what year, or who played a certain song. He had a job to do all day, friends to meet at the weekend, and kept himself entertained in his free time, like everyone does.

Only seeing the years flash before him now made it seem so empty and pointless, leaving him feeling overwhelmed with regret and hopelessness and with a sinking in his chest. He felt like he’d failed himself. Like he’d let himself down. He couldn’t just blame himself though, and he started to feel irritated at the whole world for screwing things up for him.

His talent, his dreams, his passion for music had come to nothing. Well, he had gained one thing from it all; winning this radio quiz. Maybe he’d impressed a few listeners. Maybe he’d --

‘Hello? Is that Jeff’

Jeff stands up quickly when he hears the voice, remembering he should be ecstatic that he’s won the quiz, but unable to shake that strange mix of wistfulness and exasperation.

‘Yeah... still here’

When did I become such a fucking failure

‘Hi, congrats on winning today’s quiz. Could you please tell us your full name and address so we can send you your Sony D.A.B radio?’

This is what his lifelong love for music had come down to. This is what he had to show for it all. A Sony D.A.B fucking radio. Maybe he could show it off to visitors. Maybe people would ask him where he got it from, and he could tell them how he had won the quiz. It wasn’t much but it was something. He snickers at himself again, sardonically.

‘Yeah yeah, it’s um Jeff Stephens--’

The phone beeps.

‘Hello?’

No reply.

He takes the phone away from his ear and looks at the screen. Instantly he realises the stupid phone has hung up, like it keeps doing all the fucking time. I don’t even get the fucking radio. He isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh or cry.

He stands motionless in the silent room for a few seconds. The empty hole inside him has quickly filled with white-hot rage.

‘FUCK!’ he screams at the top of his voice, straining the veins in his face.

‘FUCKING SHIT FUCKING--’ he aggressively lobs the piece of shit smartphone at his guitar in the corner, smashing the screen, snapping the case and leaving a huge dent in his guitar.

‘PIECE OF SHIT’ he yells, his voice faltering this time. He collapses into the sofa, his anger becoming despair.

‘Stupid fucking phone’ he cries.

‘Stupid fucking guitar, fucking band’ tears fill his eyes.

‘Fucking job... fucking kids...fucking...all this shit’

He opens his mouth to say something else but doesn’t, and slumps back further into his sofa and he doesn’t move for a while.

[poppedparaz]

For: @fruit-lump

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe it was the fact that this was one of the biggest crowds he’s ever performed in front of–not biggest, one of the biggest.

Maybe it was the fact that their new songs, more serious and unlike their regular music, was received so well by the fans.

Well, whatever it was, it sure left Dan shaky. The anxiety (he wasn’t sure whether it was good or bad) bubbled up inside of him as he drove over to the after party. He heard his phone buzz against the seat next to him and picked up the phone.

1 new text: Arin♡

It was probably to confirm that he was indeed going to be attending the party, but Dan couldn’t care less. He wanted to be alone in his home, but he couldn’t drive off. There were tons of people already waiting.

He entered the building and was immediately swamped by his friends, coworkers, other people he didn’t care much to identify. Once he had made his presence known, he managed to catch Arin’s eye. The younger man skipped over to him and crashed them in a hug, and he was jumping up and down as he praised his boyfriend for the wonderful performance.

“You did so good! I’m so proud of you, Dan!”

Dan nodded and tried not to shy away as Arin pulled him into another hug.

Soon Arin was off to grab some punch or something, it flew by Dan’s head, and when he came back bubbly and excited, Dan bolted to the restroom.

He locked himself inside, shaking and trying to control his breathing. He heard a knock at the door and a concerned voice.

“Dan? You in there?” Called Arin.

“Y-yeah, dude, just taking a shit,” he lied. When he began to talk again, Dan inwardly groaned. Why couldn’t he just be left alone?

“Are you sure that’s i-”

“Arin, leave me alone, I’m fine, god dammit,” he said through gritted teeth.

Arin obviously didn’t think so because after the several minutes it took Dan to calm himself down and exit the restroom, he was face to face with him, cup in hand.

He brought a hand to the small of Dan’s back, and he frowned as Dan flinched and pushed himself away from him.

“Danny, ple-”

“Not now, Arin, please,” Dan begged. He felt guilt pang in his chest as the other’s face fell. Arin brushed his hand against his boyfriend’s, who intertwined their fingers.

They stayed like that, awkward and in the middle of the bathroom hall, with people pushing them aside and so often congratulating Dan, who would simply mutter a thanks.

“’M gonna go find Brian.” Dan mumbled and walked away, leaving Arin alone.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful aside from the fact that Dan or Brian couldn’t be found at all. They were in a small room, chatting and laughing like normal, and after Dan had spilled his feelings and talked to his friend, he even forgot that he was upset in the first place.

Brian laughed as he finished up a story, and he stepped on his empty plastic cup, crushing it.

“I think most people have left,” Dan began, a little guilty he wasn’t there for most of the party but whatever, at least everyone knew he was there in the first place.

“You should get back to Arin, he’s probably wondering where you are. Don’t worry about packing up, I got it,” Brian said as he stood up and picked his trash off the floor.

Arin. Oh no.

Dan quietly gasped and caught Brian’s attention, looking at him with an arched eyebrow.

“I forgot about Arin, I completely ignored him,” Dan whispered into the silence of the room.

Before Brian could open his mouth, Dan was out of the room, calling out a goodnight, then frantically searching for his boyfriend. A few minutes later he found him, leaning against the wall and looking up something on his phone.

“Hey,” Dan breathed as he walked over to him. “Wanna go home?” He asked.

“Yeah. Was just about to call an Uber.” Arin muttered back. Dan frowned as he recognized that Arin was mad at him, and he honestly had every right to be so.

“So…yeah, I already said bye to Bri and shit, so we can go now if you want to.” It had never felt harder to talk to Arin before.

“Sure.” He replied in the same flat tone, and followed Dan outside.

Dan’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel, guilt filling up his heart as Arin shuffled into the passenger seat.

Say you’re sorry, idiot.

No matter how loud his brain told him what to do, he couldn’t find the words. They pulled up to Dan’s home, and he was honestly happy he wasn’t alone like he originally wanted to, because then his head would’ve been filled with negative thoughts all night long.

While Dan occupied himself by unpacking things from his backpack, Arin quickly made his way upstairs. Dan heard the shower turn on and he sighed to himself.

When he finally cleaned up the house and made his way to his room, Arin was already asleep, and he made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for cuddling; pillows were mushed up like a border between the side he slept on and the side Dan did. Childish, but effective.

Seeing this made him miserable, of course, but he knew he brought it on himself. As he crawled to his side of the bed, he grumbled to himself.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he breathed out. He wanted to be by Arin’s side, wanted to comfort him, but he knew Arin probably didn’t want to be touched by him right now.

It was right when he was finally about to enter the sweet embrace of sleep when he heard sniffling. At first he thought it was snoring until he heard a quiet whimper, and he knew Arin was trying not to cry. He abandoned all previous thought and leaned over his boyfriend, across the no-man’s-land that was made out of cotton and whatnot.

“Whoa, hey, hey,” he pulled Arin to face him. Unshed tears decorated the corners of his eyes, and Dan shoved the pillows away, knocking them down on the floor so he could hold the other.

They both sat up, backs resting on the headboard and Dan’s arms around Arin protectively, letting the younger place his face in the crook of his neck.

“Do–am I a…” Arin started, struggling to speak through sobs and tears finally making their way down his cheeks. Dan prompted him to continue.

“Am I a burden?” He gasped out, and Dan held him tighter, getting ready to tell him that of course he isn’t, he isn’t a burden, but Arin continued.

“Like, I try to help…people, and it seems like lately I’ve only been making problems worse, and tonight I tried to ask you what was–what was wrong and you stormed off, and I just…”

Sobs wracked through him, making him unable to finish his sentence.

“No, no, baby, it was my fault, Arin, my fault. I was just panicky and shaky because of the concert, and I wanted to be alone, but now I’m glad I’m not, because you’re here, even if you were upset with me–and you have every right to be upset.” Dan pulled back from Arin and wiped tears away with the pad of his thumb before continuing.

“You’re the light and love of my life, Arin. I treated you like shit tonight, and I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry baby. Know that even though I have my days where I’m feeling angsty and mad, it doesn’t make me love you any less. And that goes with everybody else. I should’ve explained. I’ll make it up to you.”

They stayed like that for a few moments until Arin calmed himself down. Dan heard a shaky voice from underneath him.

“W-Wendy’s?”

“What?” He looked down to Arin, more composed than a few minutes ago.

“You said…you’ll make it up to me. Wendy’s?” He asked again.

“Yuck,” Dan said, sticking his tongue out and they both laughed.

“You were being mean to me,” Arin reminded him, a smirk appearing on his face as he pinched Dan’s side. “You made me cry.”

Dan groaned and covered his face, making Arin giggle.

“Fine, we’ll go to Wendy’s tomorrow night.”

He started to lay the both of them back down but before Arin was completely down, Dan cupped his cheek and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

“I love you, Arin. Never forget that.”

“I love you, too.”

They intertwined their legs and held each other in the dark of the room, happy to be with each other.