And I forget sometimes I'm just flesh and bone.

As he stands in the ruined bathroom, all Rook can think is, At least now I can breathe.

apaga y vámonos // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: secretary!jay x CEO!fem!reader

genre: office!au, fluff, smut // warning: older reader; Jay calls reader “Boss”; hyung-line are all in here; mirror sex; unprotected sex // wc: ~5.1k

previous chapters:

part 1 - carmesí part 2 - mi reina part 3 - millones part 3.5 - hasta los dientes part 4 - vente conmigo part 5 - tusa

next chapters:

click here for the masterlist

summary: after almost canceling a family trip, you decide to invite Jay and his former flatmates to spend the weekend away with you.

author’s note: Secretary!Jay returns! This time with company. Part 5 was not the last part, don't worry, but until I cook up part 6, please enjoy this little story which was based on So So Fun and Denimz' EN-log.

everybody say THANK YOU JAY for dressing like a hot uncle!

the title is from Ventino's song, although the lyrics seem to point at heartbreak I really didn't mind because it translates into "turn off and go" and the beat just gives off road trip and vacation vibes!

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @jaylaxies @hee-pster @jaysbiceps @thots4hee @axartia @spxrklyfairydust @neo-weareone (send an ask if you want to be tagged)

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

“Good morning, Miss!”

You frowned as you took your sunglasses off, eyeing Heeseung who was grinning like an idiot as he made your way towards your black Palisade.

“This is not a business trip so don’t call me that,” you pushed your sunglasses up to wear it as a headband. “Jay’s gonna drive for the first half of the trip until we get to the rest area, and from then on you’re the driver.”

Heeseung playfully saluted you and you just shook your head, glancing to the driver’s seat. Jay was just smiling widely at you, his hands comfortably resting on the steering wheel. Soon after, Jake and Sunghoon finally came out, rushing to your car and putting their bags inside.

“Did you have to dress like a rich uncle?” You asked, glancing at Jay and his navy polo shirt and white jeans getup.

Jay pulled the visor down to look at his reflection. He brushed his hair back and tilted his head left and right. You rolled your eyes.

“I look like a rich uncle? Great, that’s exactly the look I’m going for,” Jay said proudly, putting the visor back to its place and looking at you, smiling. “It matches you too.”

He was right. Your cropped white tank top paired with dark blue straight jeans unintentionally matched Jay’s color palette. You chuckled and shook your head, mouthing ‘why’. You then hear a bunch of rustling and rumbling at the back seat. When you turned around, you saw Jake squished in between Sunghoon and Heeseung who were already sitting back, manspreading.

“Jake, you’re on snack duty,” you chirped. Jake held up his thumb signaling he was ready.

“You sure you’ve got everything you need?” You asked again, this time to all the three guys.

“Oh my God,” Sunghoon said under this breath. “It’s like traveling with my parents.”

You merely snorted and gave Jay a light tap on his shoulder, telling him to drive.

What was supposed to be a family trip with your parents, your brother and his husband turned into an over-the-weekend road trip with Jay and his former flat mates. For some reason, your brother and his husband couldn’t get their plane tickets in time, and your father fell sick two days before the d-day. You didn’t want the booked Airbnb to go to waste, so you contacted everyone you knew who would like to take the vacation opportunity away from you. Thankfully, Heeseung overheard your phone conversation when he was driving you home, and when he asked you about it, you ended up offering him and the other guys to tag along.

“Boys, did you learn your songs?” You asked, not bothering to look back because you were too busy pulling up the road trip playlist from your phone.

“Noona, your music taste is bomb. Where did you find all these songs?” Jake lunged forward and stuck his head out to you like a puppy. Jay flinched a little from the sudden emergence of Jake’s head.

You smiled and started playing the songs. It was a range of Latin Pop, K-Pop, just Pop, and other oldie songs that basically check the requirement of ‘best to be screamed out during a road trip with the windows down and sun shining on you’. At one point during one of your favorite songs, the boys acted out as the backing vocals as you belted out the notes and adlibs that you have memorized for years. Jay was smiling and laughing so hard that you could see the crinkles in the corner of his eyes.

When it got to Justin Bieber, Jake and Heeseung took the lead, and because you were so amused you twisted your body to take a video of the chaos happening in the back seat. Sunghoon was grinning with his fangs out, clearly equally amused at the theater commencing beside him. Shifting to more summery, road-tripesque songs, you did let the boys roll down the windows when they asked for your permission. You held one arm out as you feel the wind kiss your skin, and Jay maintained the speed, letting the others bask in the sun just like you.

After a while, you arrived at a rest area so big that they also had a huge supermarket in it. You divided the tasks and made the three boys get snacks and whatever else they wanted while you go grocery shopping with Jay. At first you wanted to go get snacks with the boys and let Jake shop with Jay, but then Jake practically begged you to switch, promising to get all your favorite street food in exchange.

You pushed the cart and let Jay put every single thing he needed from the list he made in his mind. You watched as he mumbled to himself, pausing to think before selecting a certain product. He was so immersed in shopping that he didn’t notice you taking out your phone, snapping photos and recording short videos of him.

“I think we’re done here,” Jay said, looking at the half-full cart and then at you. “Do you need anything?”

You were holding back a smile and you had no idea why you were blushing just looking at Jay getting groceries and dressed like an entrepreneur who owns a yacht.

“Not for now,” you responded in a soft voice as you looked away, pushing the cart towards the register. Jay merely tilted his head, confused at your response but following you anyway.

As you and Jay walked back to your car, you found the boys already waiting around. Smiling sheepishly, you rushed towards them, carrying a couple of shopping bags with you. Jay trailed behind with the rest of the groceries.

“Sorry, boys, I forgot to leave the keys with Heeseung,” you sighed, feeling your hands heavy. Sunghoon calmly walked to your side to take a shopping bag out of your hand. Jake was standing with his hands full—two drinks of his choice, one for you and one for Jay. Once your hands were free, you fished for the keys from your purse and threw it over to Heeseung, who was already standing outside the driver’s side.

“Shotgun!” Jake shouted, as he helped you and Jay put the groceries in. “I wanna control the playlist this time.”

You ended up sitting in between Jay and Sunghoon, sipping on your mint choco frappuccino that Jake got for you. Heeseung started driving and as soon as you all hit the highway again, the karaoke resumed. You took more footage of the boys singing, even wincing when Jay screamed the lyrics a little too loud in your ear. After a moment, the tension died down and the noise slowly faded to hushed conversations. Sunghoon was browsing his phone silently to your right, and Jake was talking to Heeseung about something.

You look to your left and Jay adjusted his seat, slightly turning his head towards you. “Do you need anything?”

You scoffed. “You’re not here as my assistant. Stop asking me that.”

Jay shrugged and leaned in to kiss the side of your head. You smiled into it and a second later you were busy distributing drinks and snacks to the two boys in the front. Eventually the silence and the subtle hum of the car lulled you to sleep, and your head was hanging uncomfortably to the side, occasionally hitting Sunghoon’s shoulder.

Sunghoon glanced to his side to try and get Jay’s attention, but your poor boyfriend was also struggling to stay awake. “Psst. Jay,” Sunghoon called in the softest voice he could manage.

Frowning, Jay turned to see Sunghoon almost panicking. You were leaning towards him and the sunglasses on your head even fell to his hands. The sight took him back to the bus ride during the glamping trip with your staff, and just like that Jay was fully awake, pulling you gently to rest your head on his shoulder instead. Sunghoon sighed a breath of relief and mindlessly put your sunglasses on his head.

---

“Noona, you’re sharing a room with Jay, right?”

Jake walked out of the master bedroom after doing an individual mini tour around the villa. You were wiping your hands because you just finished putting away the groceries, and while Jay was still busy in the kitchen, you managed to slip away to go get your bags and unpack.

“I, uh,” you didn’t know how to reply to Jake in a way that was appropriate. You took a quick glance to the side and saw Heeseung and Sunghoon having a chat by the pool outside.

“Of course she’s sharing a room with me, why do you ask?” Jay appeared from the kitchen, hooking his sunglasses on to the collar of his shirt.

“Great, so the other two rooms can be split between the rest of us,” Jake cheerfully tapped Jay on the shoulder before trotting away to join his friends.

“What’s with the hesitation?” Jay turned to face you once Jake was out of sight. “Did you not want to sleep with me?”

At this point, trying to contain yourself from blushing or hiding the smile creeping up on your face would be useless. “I never said that.”

Jay took a step and pulled you by your waist, making your body press against his. He then dipped to give you a kiss, a chaste one at first before he started kissing your jawline and making his way down your neck. Your eyelids flutter and you had to push him away before the effects of what he was doing started to show.

“Not now,” you whispered, kissing him on the cheek. You then walked outside to meet the other boys to ask them about their thoughts on the villa.

---

Jay had set the table with all the ingredients needed for tonight’s dinner. You walked into the kitchen, having changed your jeans for a more breezy, comfy Bermuda shorts. Jay glanced at you for a second before turning his attention back to the kitchen counter.

“Aw, now we’re not matching anymore,” Jay said with a pout.

You merely chuckled as you made your way to the sink, washed your hands and quickly dried them with a paper towel. “Need any help?”

Jay tilted his head before saying no. “I’d much rather be left alone and do all the cooking myself.”

“Why? You don’t trust me? I can’t cook but I can take instructions very well,” you leaned on the kitchen counter, propping yourself with your hands.

“I’m sure you can,” Jay smiled at you. He then approached you and kissed you on the cheek. “There’s just a lot to cook for five people and I really cannot afford to be distracted.”

You could feel your cheeks blushing. “I’m a distraction?”

“Of course you are,” Jay chirped without missing a beat.

You were about to say something else but the boys all shuffled into the kitchen to join you. Heeseung eyed the table, Sunghoon went to grab a drink from the fridge, and Jake walked towards you.

“Noona, can we play in the pool?” Jake asked. His eyes were so wide and you were sure if he had a tail it would be wagging.

“Are you inviting me or asking for permission?” You asked back, puzzled. Jay was already getting started prepping the ingredients.

“You can go with them,” Jay said, focused on chopping some of the veggies he had out.

“You sure there’s nothing we can help you with?” Heeseung peeped to look at the stove, where a huge pot was already on it.

“I asked him that and he’s sure,” you answered for Jay. “Alright, let’s go have some fun. I’m not joining you guys in the pool though.”

Sunghoon took a sip of the canned soda in his hand. “Why not?”

“She doesn’t like playing in water,” this time Jay answered for you. You nodded and pointed at Jay, confirming his answer.

Jay watched you and the guys walk away from the kitchen and started to get busy. He could see the pool from where he was, with the floor-to-ceiling window conveniently facing the outdoors.

At first you just dipped your feet in the pool as the other guys wreaked havoc in the water. Jake was trying his best to float on the inflatable unicorn, while Sunghoon was mercilessly shooting his water gun at him. Heeseung was just laughing at the scene as he calmly floated around, until Sunghoon changed his target and started shooting him. You made sure to record videos using your phone, ducking whenever Sunghoon missed his aim, and shrieking whenever you got the slightest splash of water on your body.

Jay squinted his eyes as he searched for the source of chaotic sounds. He was now looking at the four of you in the pool, you shouting inaudibly at the guys and begging them not to target you too. Jay then smiled to himself before he resumed cooking.

You decided to step away from the scene, claiming that you did not plan to get any wetter. As if on cue, your phone started vibrating and you noticed that you were getting a call from your mother.

“Yes, Mom?” You picked up your phone while you raised the other hand, telling the boys to behave. “Is Dad okay?”

Your mother called to check in on you and you couldn’t find the best way to say that you were at the villa with four other guys without it sounding too… reckless. You did eventually explain and when you saw Jay through the window, completely immersed in his meal prep, you took a deep breath.

“Mom, I need to tell you something.”

Your parents were bound to find out one way or another, so you decided to tell them now about your relationship with Jay. You were aware that if you waited to tell them in person, the slight expression of disapproval on their faces would make you cry.

“He’s nice, and he’s been taking care of me a lot,” you said, lowering your voice as you start to feel the evening breeze brush your skin. You shivered a bit before continuing to speak. You then listened to the mini lecture your mother started to give you, and you were so focused on listening that you didn’t notice the figure approaching you from behind.

“Noona,” Jake said, making you turn around. He was holding up Jay’s bomber jacket with a towel sitting on top of his head. Clearly, he was still playing in the pool and only got out to do this. “Jay would kill me if I don’t put this on you.”

You asked your mother to hold on a second and let Jake put on the jacket for you. “Thanks.”

Jake smiled and quickly sprinted away. Meanwhile, your mother was asking for you on the phone. “Is that him?” She asked.

“No, that was Jake. Should I tell you about the other boys too?”

---

After the boys took a shower, they joined you and Jay at the dining table where dinner was served quite luxuriously. Jay had managed to cook for all five of you, with three different menus, and you couldn’t help but look at him in awe.

“Thank you for cooking,” you said as you leaned to your right side, going for a peck on his lips. Jay kissed you back and immediately smiled as he rubbed his hand on the small of your back.

“I don’t have to kiss you to thank you too, do I?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow as he grabbed a plate for himself.

You chuckled and Jay rolled his eyes. Jay made sure to fix you a plate before everyone else began serving themselves. The dinner was pretty quiet since you were all starved and so focused on eating. Except for a couple of light conversations, it was a comfortable silence.

Until everyone was done and it was time to clean up. Jake and Sunghoon began arguing on who should do the dishes, and then Heeseung suggested that all of you play rock-scissors-papers.

“That doesn’t seem fair,” you claimed after taking a sip of water. “Jay cooked everything. He should be left out of washing the dishes.”

Jay pouted as he nodded in agreement, thankful that you got his back. “In that case, keep Y/N out of this too. She paid for the whole thing. You guys do it.”

“They’re covering for each other,” Heeseung mumbled to himself, but Jake heard him.

“Makes sense, though,” Jake quickly replied. “Alright, winner gets to rest while the two clean up.”

After countless rounds, Sunghoon and Heeseung ended up doing all the dishes. Jake helped clean the table and take out the trash, while you went away to wash up before everyone else. When you were done, you found everyone gathered in front of the TV.

“Noona, pick a genre. Horror, action, or comedy?” Jake said while he pressed the remote to browse Netflix.

“If it’s horror I really would rather go to bed,” you answered, taking your place in the middle of the couch. Sunghoon was sitting on a bean bag to your right, with Heeseung on the couch beside you.

Jay appeared from the kitchen with canned drinks in his hand. “You don’t like horror?” He asked you, genuinely curious.

You realized you never had a movie night with Jay or even a simple conversation about your favorite movies. “I just don’t like to be startled.”

“That’s bulls. Jake, pick a horror that’s scary but has the least jumpscares,” Heeseung instructed while he lazily stretched his arms.

Figuring that it would be less scary when there’s so many of you, you decided to watch the movie anyway. You were wrong, though. Jay remained silent as he hid his face behind your back most of the time, and when you felt something scary was about to happen, you turned around to face him. He would then meet your eyes and make a funny face until the scary scene passes. For the next movie, you all agreed on an action movie and fortunately had a blast watching it. Towards the end, the boys seemed to get tired, and two out of four were already dozing off in their seats.

As the credits rolled, you stood up and looked at Sunghoon lying uncomfortably on the bean bag and Heeseung sprawled on the sofa. Jake was yawning as he turned off the TV and lightly tidied up the coffee table.

“Boys, you should go sleep in your rooms,” you said with a gentle voice, nudging Heeseung’s arm. “Heeseung.”

Heeseung stirred awake at the sound of his name being called. He blinked several times before he gained enough consciousness to also wake Sunghoon up and move to their bedroom. Once the three of them were away, you looked at Jay who was still sitting on the couch.

“What?” you asked, walking to him to take his hand.

“Nothing,” he said with a smile, letting you drag him to the bedroom. He wanted to say that it felt like you were telling your sons to go to bed, but then he decided to keep the thought to himself.

You entered the bedroom first and when Jay closed the door behind him, you noticed that he was still in the same clothes he wore when he left the house that morning. After telling him to shower, you grabbed a book that you had wanted to read for so long and got comfortable in the bed. Jay came out of the bathroom looking fresh and relaxed, and you decided to put your book away to talk to him.

He slipped into the covers and quickly snuggled into you, pulling you down so you can rest your head on the pillow too. He cuddled you close, resting his head on your breasts and letting you caress his arm lovingly, with your other hand running through his hair.

“My mom called,” you began to speak. “I told her about us.”

“So that’s who you were talking to on the phone?” He looked up at you. You nodded. “I thought it was about work.”

You chuckled and continued to stroke Jay’s hair. “Anyway, we’re scheduled for a lunch date for the weekend, in three weeks.”

“Now when you say you told them about us…”

“They know I’m dating you now.”

Jay’s hand that was gently rubbing your waist immediately froze. He then moved up so he could be on your eye level.

“What did your parents say?” He looked into your eyes, hopeful.

“Mom said they’ll be looking forward to see you. But I honestly don’t know,” you moved your hand and rest it on Jay’s face. You started stroking his cheek with your thumb. “I hope they like you.”

Jay chuckled and leaned to kiss your forehead. “We don’t have to do it if you’re not ready. Or if you’re uncomfortable.”

You shook your head. “They have a right to know.”

There was a lot of worry on your face and Jay couldn’t bear to see it. He pulled you into him, making your nose touch his neck as he rested his hand on your back, fingers tracing your outline. He kissed the top of your head before he whispered to you, telling you to relax and just sleep.

---

Jay’s recipe for a good night’s rest proved to be a good one. You woke up with the sun shining bright on your face, seeping through the sheer curtains by the window. Jay’s side of the bed was cold, meaning that he had woken up hours before you. There was almost no sound coming from outside, except for the faint sound of water running in the kitchen sink. You sat up and looked to your side, only now noticing the huge mirror attached to the wardrobe beside the bed.

As you brushed your hair back and checked your reflection in the mirror, the bedroom door opened quietly, and you could see Jay peeking.

“Oh, you’re up,” he said with a smile, calmly closing the door. “Want breakfast?”

Jay was wearing a white sleeveless tee with a pair of light blue shorts, while you were still in the silky short nightgown you wore as pajamas. Feeling needy, you stretched your arms towards him, and he reacted by coming closer to you, pulling him into your embrace.

“Why is it so quiet?” You asked, mumbling into his chest.

“The guys are out fishing,” Jay answered, rubbing your shoulders.

“This early?”

“It’s just been an hour since they left,” Jay glanced at the clock on the bedside table.

“So you’re saying it’s just us here?” You tugged Jay’s shirt so he would sit down on the edge of the bed with you, facing the mirror.

“If I say yes, what do you have in mind?” Jay challenged you, playfully pulling the strap of your nightgown so it would fall down your shoulder. The loose silk easily draped down and exposed half your boob. Licking his lips, Jay looked at your breasts.

You chuckled and pulled him into a kiss, letting him explore your mouth while his hands took a tour around your body. The movements of his fingers were so nimble that in an instant your gown was already off your top, pooling at your waist. You stood up in front of him, letting your gown fall to the floor. Your eyes didn’t leave his during the whole process, and you could see the aching bulge that was growing in his tiny shorts.

“Come here,” Jay pulled you by your wrist and kissed your waist, leaving a wet trail to the middle of your stomach. You sighed and looked to the ceiling, resting both hands on the top of his head. “I want you to see how beautiful you are.”

You let Jay spin you around so you were facing the mirror. He then made you sit on his lap ever so gently, your ass coming into contact with his clothed bulge. You leaned your back on his chest, letting him fix your position with his one hand on your waist and an arm under your breasts.

“My beautiful—beautiful—queen,” Jay whispered in between the butterfly kisses he left down your neck. You sighed, feeling content but bunching up the bed sheets in both your hands.

“Jay,” you whimpered breathlessly, feeling your core start to ache for more. “Please.”

“Do you want my fingers?” He asked right in your ear. You whined and shook your head. Jay chuckled lowly, easily maneuvering his hand under you to get his cock out. Once he felt your dripping core against his leaking tip, he grunted and bit your shoulder gently. “Always so wet for me.”

You shifted in his lap and brought one hand up to his neck. This was beginning to become one of your favorite positions—sitting on Jay and facing front, not knowing what kind of face he was making, or if his eyebrows were knitted like yours was. Except this time there was a mirror, so you could see his face if you wanted. The problem is, he was making it hard for you to even keep your eyes open.

Jay didn’t mind, though. He was content seeing your face contort to show how much pleasure you were feeling through his every move. He slid into you with ease and you moaned softly, feeling his teeth sink into your neck. You started grinding on him, moving at a pace that to him was unbearably slow. He held one hand flat on your lower abs, while the other squeezed your breasts. To increase friction, he started thrusting upwards, matching your pace. You helplessly held onto his arm, gasping every time you felt him thrust a little too hard.

“Hey,” he whispered in between breaths. “Open your eyes.”

You looked in the mirror and saw him move his hand away from your stomach. You could see the imprint of his dick from inside of you, and when you shifted your gaze to his eyes, it felt like it pierced through you.

“Fuck,” you whined, grinding your ass into his lap even more. “Fuck, Jay, don’t stop.”

Jay wrapped his arms around your body tighter, keeping you in place as he maintained his speed. Your moans became a pitch higher, and you squeezed his arm to let him know that you were close. He nodded, looking at you through your reflection, and with that you cummed on his cock. The way your walls were clenching around him made him reach his high too, but Jay was quick enough to pull out, shooting ropes of cum onto your back.

You heard footsteps outside and the sound of doors opening and closing. Immediately you came to your senses and stood up, quickly grabbing a towel from the bathroom.

“When did they come back?” You ask worried, attending to clean Jay first instead of yourself.

“They must have just arrived, don’t worry,” Jay took the towel out of your hands and sent you to the bathroom to clean up. He had washed up earlier before you woke up, so all he did was grab some new clothes to change into before he walked out of the bedroom.

Sunghoon was chewing on a piece of bread, staring blankly through the window as he sat on the sofa. Heeseung was playing a game on his phone, or rather pretending to be busy on his phone. Jake stopped in his tracks as he walked past the door, freezing when Jay came out.

“What?” Jay asked nonchalantly, looking at Jake and then the others. Jake merely shook his head. “Did you manage to get any?”

“No, but I guess you did,” Sunghoon mumbled. Heeseung elbowed him in the ribs and he groaned in pain. Jake quickly left the room to grab a drink.

Jay was praying that he heard Sunghoon wrong because to tell the truth, he also did not notice when the guys arrived. He was too engrossed in hearing your beautiful moans in his ear. He wasn’t going to divide his attention to something else.

Moments later after Jay decided to sunbathe on the porch, you came out of the bedroom dressed neatly, with your hair still damp. You were putting on your necklace when you saw Sunghoon, Jake, and Heeseung on the couch, talking to each other.

“Boys,” you greeted them. “Did you have breakfast before you left earlier?”

Sunghoon blinked before he palmed his face, turning to look at Jake. “Am I wrong?”

Jake shook his head. “Nah, you’re kinda right.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Heeseung sighed, knowing very well that once you ask something, there is no backing out of it. “We were just talking how throughout the trip you were being very… mom-like.”

You snorted at the comment. “Really?”

“And Jay is very dad-like by default. Anyways! I would love to have second breakfast with you, Noona. Let’s go!” Jake shifted the topic effortlessly, jumping out of his seat to drag you to the kitchen.

The rest of the trip went out very well for the five of you. When you introduced the idea of paragliding, Jake was the only one who was as excited as you were. It took Sunghoon and Heeseung some persuading, and Jay was certain he would go too, but the moment you all reached the top of the hill and felt the strong breeze coming at you, Jay almost chickened out.

The boys all agreed that to not go through with it would be disrespectful to you, since you were the sponsor of this whole trip. Heeseung landed with a huge smile on his face, finding it more pleasant than he thought it would be. Sunghoon arrived after him, also claiming that he enjoyed the ride. Jake’s instructor made them fly in hoops, and he was shrieking out of joy. You landed first so you were able to see the colors of their faces. You got worried when you saw Jay land last. The other three guys were just laughing at him when he made his way to you with a pout on his face.

“Please don’t make me do that again,” he whined, resting his forehead on your shoulder. You almost lost your balance from how he just put his whole weight on you, but you quickly grabbed him by the shoulders and patted his back.

The drive back home felt a lot shorter. Heeseung drove the first half, claiming that he would be sleepy after stopping at the rest area. When it was Jay’s turn to drive, you sat beside him and you opted to play softer songs since you noticed the boys at the back were starting to feel sleepy.

“Maybe next time I try another extreme sport, I should just ask you, right Jake?”

Hearing no reply, you turned to look at the back seat and saw all three of them sleeping, heads resting against each other’s shoulder. You smiled affectionately at them before you looked at Jay, who was also smiling as he kept his eyes on the road.

-END-

© forjongseong 2022, all rights reserved

read the next part: versos de placer

Okay, screw it, It's been on my mind alot, I'm writing the damn mirror post so I can get it off my mind.

There's a song I listen to often that has a couple of lines about "breaking the mirror". I'm the type of person who feels the need to understand every line of every song they listen to, so I googled the meaning. (Side note, part of me felt like it was right to write girl instead of person and she instead of they? I almost always use gender neutral terms in anything I say online regardless of being about me, but feeling like saying she is not something I've done before. That was weird. Back to the point.)

So I don't know how commonly known it is or whether people still pay attention to old superstitions, but apparently breaking mirrors brings you years of bad luck, but eventually you'll be just fine.

And there's obvious parallels between this idea and transitioning. Things will get alot harder after you start, but you'll be infinitely better off when you start to reach the other side. Right now, I can live simply as a guy and not have to worry about the perils of being trans, but once I break the mirror, it's on.

But I can't get over how there's this really old symbolism of taking the very thing that displays who you are, and shattering it, and it's gonna cause alot of problems for a while, but then the reflection is restored, better than ever, and all the bad is washed away.

And this was just a neat little idea in my head, until I saw a CERTAIN game with a certain stereotype was on sale for like £3 and bought it. And oh my fucking God, mirror symbolism is EVERYWHERE, because of course it is. The very incarnation of the bad parts of Madeline literally come from looking herself in the mirror and breaking it. People have talked before about the heavy Mirror symbolism in Celeste, often mentioning trans people's relation to mirrors, but recontextualising that with the superstition and the things I just mentioned made it hit so hard for me when it clicked and I put it all together.

Now, I always knew this would be an aimless rant, but I still spent a while trying to think of a good way to tie it together but its not working. I'm just gonna talk about the lyrics now and how they reflect my specific situation. Its 4 lines, in pairs, in two seperate verses:

"I need time to break all the mirrors,

But my mind is in pieces and not ready to make it clearer."

"Time to make it all clearer,

And if time never ceases I'll be ready to break the mirror."

How often do you hear trans people talk about how theyre not ready, or theyre finding excuses for themselves, and they don't know why? I'm the same, but I genuinely have a rock solid excuse for myself, that I live in an unsupportive and overcontrolling household, so I couldn't even start doing anything in secret because of how restricted I am. I should be going to Uni in about a year and a half, so that's the starting point. But even if this wasn't the case, I dont think Id start transitioing yet, Im not ready, my mind is in pieces and not ready to make it clearer.

But that's the thing, it IS time to make it all clearer. Ive got time, with no pressure, to figure myself out and improve my mental state so that I'm in the best position possible to break the mirror. So as long as I never cease doing that, I'll be ready to break the mirror.

If you're wondering what the song is, It's The Gift by Kevin Sherwood and Elena Siegman. The rest of the song isn't a trans allegory or anything, I honestly couldn't tell you what most of it is about, it's from fucking COD: Black Ops 3 Zombies lmfao. Every map in the Zombies mode of the Black Ops games has a secret song, usually by Kevin Sherwood and often with Elena Siegman singing, but sometimes its a different vocalist.

The reason I'm mentioning all this is because the map this song is on is Literally called "Revelations". Yep, certainly having a few of them lmao.

So, thanks for reading this unhinged rant about mirrors that's probably unoriginal as shit, I'm going to cut this off Immediately before I launch into a rant about how good Kevin Sherwood's music is. Honestly, hes too good to be working on COD, not to mention how Elena Siegman has the voice of an angel and a demon at the same time, that girls range is insane. Fuck, Im already slipping into a rant, I just need to stop writi

It is finally here! My month of pure madness! 6 concerts, 3 in one week and one is a 2 day festival. Starts with Miyavi so let's go!

Tour started from DC and you bet your ass I was there. It was full circle cuz the last show of last tour was in DC for me too. It was so nice to be back!

I did GA for this show so I knew I needed to get there early. Rocked up at 10:30. There was one other person in line who had been there for 2 hours at that point. And that started a bit of a pattern I think cuz the next people didn't show up till like 12.

Right after they showed up, Miyavi's tour bus showed up! Drove past us with its really cool decals but we were all distracted and almost fully missed it. But it kept going past us and we thought it was gonna come back around to try and pull in to the parking lot of the venue. But it didn't. We waited for like another hour or 2. Rest of the band started to trickle in but no Myv. One of the people I was waiting with needed to go back to her hotel and she barely got out of sight before this fancy looking black car rolls up and stops right in front of us at a red light. We recognize Miyavi's manager in the front seat but can't see the back until it's moved and we see a person with a hoodie on and go OH DUH he's with his manager. Car pulled around the building to drop him off and we (3 of us) waved at him and said hi and then combusted cuz he blew us a kiss (and I think he was making eye contact with me at that moment). He prolly was laughing at us when he got inside but it made me happy regardless.

More folks showed up slowly and then all my friends were there and it felt right/real. The CoMiyavi team put together a bouquet of flowers and some messages to pass to him since this is his 20th anniversary tour!

I was first for GA so we got center 3rd row. Even behind 2 mighty tall people, the crowd was pretty chill and I actually had the space to move around and could still see pretty much the whole show!

I've got this kind of bucket list kinda of songs I wanna hear at concerts and I was telling people about that while we waited. Number 1 on that list was Girls Be Ambitious. Number 2 was Dear My Friend. Number 3 was Freedom Fighters. And we got all of them. I don't know what to do with myself now lol.

Notable funny moments:

Myv flew in last night and the first place they went was an Aldi, a place he'd never been to before apparently. He was very confused by it. They have all the carts chained together and you have to insert a coin to remove it and you get it back after you connect it back at the end of your trip. Miyavi saw the chains and stood there trying to separate it, not knowing how. So now we're all just imagining him, jetlagged AF, yanking on this little chain. Until an older lady came up and explained it to him and lent him a quarter so he could get his cart.

Also, Aldis has no mineral water. He was mighty offended about that lmao.

I shouted to Dolly that I think she's really pretty and Miyavi said "what about Anthony?" And then set off on this story. I officially got Myv on a tangent like we all tried to get the teachers to and I felt proud. Story went "at a show he did a while back, the CEO of this company was in the audience. Comes backstage after and is full of compliments for the show. 'Tell me more about that drummer of yours, she's pretty' and ensuing comotion of laughter over that" drummer being Anthony, a rather hairy man lol. He does have rather gorgeous curls though.

Miyavi fumbled the lyrics a little bit in at least Senor Senora Senorita and maybe Selfish Love because it's been so damn long since he's played them lol

He looked at the set list at one point toward the end of the main set. Up till then, he would say "fricking" or "freaking" cuz he doesn't cuss much when doing MCs but at this point he just said "this set is fucking long" and stared at his tablet in what I can only describe as self reflection. Realization that he put himself in that situation lmao.

The other setlist standout is the cover of Get Wild from the anime City Hunter. I've never seen it but I was a Nami Tamaki fan for a while so I already knew that. Myv announced it and was very surprised that the audience knew the anime it was from. "City Hunter, not HunterxHunter. You know it?!" It was cute.

Dolly came back along with DJ Johnny and Anthony but to replace Gabi, we got to meet Chloe! And she is soooo talented and sweet! She gets a really nice dance piece during Secret and my GOODNESS am I falling in love with her. At the time I'm writing this, I've seen her 4 times so I can fully say she is so fucking amazing!!

He played twenty songs in the main set. Went off and changed before playing 4 more songs. He had us pull out our phone lights to sway with him for Me & The Moonlight. Chloe and Dolly each sang a verse of that solo and they sounded like freaking ANGELS.

And before long, it was over. We went hard for about 2 and a half hours but it still felt really fast at the same time. Got my merch, saw someone who got a setlist that I could take a picture of (didn't realize it was blurry until after, unfortunately), and waved Myv off as he got on the bus. Got to tell him I'd see him again in NYC and then it was back to my hotel to try and sleep.

Final thoughts - this tour is such an undertaking but also amazing!! I'm so glad I was at this show and that I have 3 more to experience!!

anonymous requested: i've been thinking about what to request for the past 3 days and i think i've finally got it. can i ask for kaeya or diluc with a crush that's a depressed bard that always composes sad songs and lyrics? here's the twist, though. their songs and lyrics start to cheer up as the two of them become closer friends!

pairing: diluc x gn! reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: i decided to do diluc for this one because I think it’d have a great impact on him as a person as well, and i’m here for more fluff with him 🥰 i made the lyrics myself for the sake of this fic please go easy on me all i know about music is playing the violin/viola also this is long

i changed the prompt a bit if that’s alright!

“Who are you exactly?” Diluc eyes you strangely when you look at him with a blank stare. In one hand you have a notebook and in the other is a lyre. You walked in only moments ago, actively avoiding anyone’s eyes as they knew you weren’t from town. You just wanted to go straight to the owner of the tavern and hope to share what you had in that book of yours.

“A bard,” you say. You look around to see a few of the townspeople staring back while the others cheer happily with each other as if an exciting thing had happened. “Do you have room for a performance?”

Diluc raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. You didn’t appear to have any double meaning or ill intention in your words, rather, your eyes were just void of any glint of mischief he usually saw in a certain person. But to waltz in one day and ask for something like this so casually, you really weren’t from there.

“Sure, just don’t steal anything.” He is skeptical of you as he is of any one else but you didn’t need to know that. You were used to it after all. He directs you to the side of the bar that was supposedly the “performance stage” but it didn’t matter. Anywhere was fine with you.

The townspeople gradually stop their chatter as you quickly tune your lyre, playing a chord once the strings were ready. The tune that escapes into the air effectively silences any remaining voices. The song you were going to start wasn’t one they would usually hear in this city of freedom and apparently cheerfulness.

Your fingers hook at the strings, releasing them with ease as a soulful melody fills the entire tavern. The chord was of the lower register and hummed deeply. Diluc flicks his eyes over to you as he cleans a glass and sees your own eyes are closed. 

When the night has passed

For then will I be free

Will they see me trample dust

Or let me keep my feet

Your book is open and he can see the words you were singing on the pages. It looks like you just started this line of work given how many pages were left in that book, assuming it was your only one as all you came in with were those two items and a small bag of mora. 

He doesn’t notice how much of an effect your song had until he scans over the tavern patreons. Your voice carries through, swaying through the people to where it grazes a piece of their hearts to reminisce forlorn memories. But your words felt soulful as if they had come from your own experiences. A thought passes over his head which causes his heart to pang before quickly shaking it off when he realizes the feeling.

Ah, so you were this type of bard. 

Diluc just thinks he’ll only see you one time so he lets the thought pass through.

Once your song ends the drunk townspeople cheer loudly among themselves. You are taken aback by all the noise but bow politely to them for their reaction. You take your things as they call out for you to do another song and you shake your head.

“Maybe another time,” you say with slight sorrow to your face or words. They accept the answer and continue on their night and when you turn to leave, Diluc can’t stop the words that come out of his mouth. 

“Why not stay for a drink?” You look at him incredulously and he crosses his arms, “Call it payment for your services. They seemed to enjoy it.” You make cautious movement as you make your way to a stool. Diluc sets out an apple cider vinegar drink and you sniff at it. Once you take a sip you notice his face at the corner of your sight. The edge of his lip is slightly quirked up as he sighs while cleaning a glass.

It seems they weren’t the only ones who enjoyed the song.

--

Mondstadt was a city that was very welcoming in comparison to all the other places you spent time at. The people were either unwilling to hear your music or had particular reactions to the pieces you shared. To them, it seemed you didn’t understand that bar music was supposed to be lively and something to dance to. Not something to feel sad about.

But you wanted to share it anyways for your songs are one of the few things in life that you are proud of. One of the few things that have filled the emptiness of yourself that you lost those years ago and maybe, just maybe, sharing them will help you feel in some way. To you, these songs are sorrowful, but they shouldn’t just make people sad. That’s why you were quite surprised at the reactions at Angel’s Share  as opposed to those from other places.

They should elicit emotions of nostalgia. Or maybe, you just hadn’t found the right experience to make them happier.

--

You come back a few nights later and Diluc is working the bar yet again. When he lifts his head, his shoulders sag in relief seeing that it is you. Venti had come by a few times after hearing about you and kept pressing the owner about letting him on the stage as well. 

He was rejected numerous times in tandem with being asked to pay up for his drink tab.

The same book and lyre are still in hand when you head towards Diluc like you did that first night. He places the glass in his hands down and gives you a nod of his head, “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” You look around and see that the tavern is even fuller than the last night you performed. It seems word had got around of your songs and they had all been waiting patiently for nights now. That was what an attendee had said to you outside the door anyways. “Do you mind?” You gesture to the stage.

“Go for it,” Any sense of caution that seeped through his words when you met him was near to nonexistent now. Maybe it was the impressions you left on the townspeople and their word of mouth the past few days. A depressing bard in the city of freedom in comparison to the other bards was news, especially when this bar had a wonderful voice to listen to.

The bar quiets again with the numerous greetings and cheers in seeing you up there. You flip open your book and thumb through the pages before settling on one song near the middle. It was a two-parter.

Your fingers pick at the strings lightly, slowly adding pressure thus causing the volume to increase subtly. Diluc shifts in his spot as he tries to focus on the tasks at hand but there really isn’t anything he is going to lose if he wants to listen.

I ran far in the depths of that same night

They chased me off as they truly had hoped

But I lost my way and wandered far

Met and saw numerous things was how I coped

The townspeople are yet again taken by your voice and melody that they had started to move with the music. Diluc decides to abandon his tasks for a little while, now aware how your music allows him to reflect as you intended. 

He sees these events before him. The death of one close to him and the loss of someone beside him whom he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. You stop singing but continue with plucking at the strings that calms the atmosphere. It is solemn and relaxing, almost putting the drunkest of the bunch to sleep but through sheer willpower they stay awake to listen on.

Happy and cheerful those that I have seen

But they were not accepting of me

Sharing the harsh reality of these mysteries

How will one otherwise feel so free?

The song ends and a round of cheers erupts, louder than the first night as there were more people. Diluc snaps out of his thoughts and wordlessly fixes you another drink that you take again, albiet still a bit shyly.

“Your lyrics,” Diluc begins and you tense at the sound of his voice, “From experience I assume?” He is straightforward, you should know this from the gossip around town. There was nothing in it for you to hide anything from him or anyone else so you tell him.

“Yes. That’s what makes good music, does it not?” You take a sip of the beverage. It must be a different one as it is much sweeter than the apple cider vinegar. “When you can relate to the words yourself. I simply want to share that with the people for reasons even I am unsure of.”

Diluc hums and doesn’t look you in the eye for his next words.

“I see. Your voice is quite nice.”

--

You both managed to continue with light chatter that night and he learns that you are staying in Mondstadt for quite a bit. You had no set plans to be in a specific place at any specific time so what was the rush to leave? Among this he is aware of how you speak. There is an ambiguous sorrow in your words from the effect of your past, he believes, that share no optimism but realistic choices that would completely stop the conversation. 

But he was the same so it continues. 

His past is the reason for his own apprehension when speaking with strangers but you were a little different. You outright told him your objective and you were just a bard who wanted to share their experience. 

You learn this of him and it was the first time that you felt light when speaking with someone.

--

“Y/n!” They learn of your name after the third night you show up which is another few nights after the second. Some take your music as a lighthearted joke in contrast to their free lives while others pay close attention to the words and sway with the tune.

You give a small grin in acknowledgement before sitting in the stool in front of Diluc. Throughout the weeks you had gotten to know each other a little better besides the titles of The Sorrowful Bard and Diluc of Mondstadt. You were just y/n and he was Diluc.

You always make a point to talk to him before performing, giving a small insight into the meaning behind your words. Last time replayed the sleepless night and doubts as you wandered Teyvat and the time before that was a retelling of an animal that accompanied you for the last months of its life.

“It knew it had to go yet it decided to follow me, spreading that sadness of loss to me as I was attached.” You said to him that night with dry eyes.

All you tell him is that this song is a little different from your other ones.

He shows more of himself to you, actions he wouldn’t typically show to others if it weren’t for a certain motive or purpose. But you were not threatening nor wanted something from him. Diluc put a bit of trust in you for that.

You never sing more than one song each night because you want them to take in the words of each song carefully. Like that animal, you wanted to share the sadness but allow them to see the great memories.

This night contains your fourteenth or fifteenth song and it is fairly new. You wrote this in the early hours of the morning with a newfound emotion bustling inside your chest. You were scared when waking up, but felt reassured when there was a hint of melancholy there among an unfamiliar emotion.

The tavern goers look at you with hopeful and excited eyes. You feel warmth in your heart as you remember the times a few of them have come up to you telling you that your music has made it easier to sleep. That your music is inspiring; sad, but inspiring.

You play a chord and Diluc raises a brow in hearing a lighter tone. Underlying is that first low tone in your first night, indicating that you plan to keep a sense of your usual. 

Then I stumbled in, seeing the light there

Unexpected welcoming I was greeted by

At first there was nothing then passed a while

Uprising something foreign for me to finally cry

Even if your eyes are trained to the floor, they are in his general direction. You didn’t know what you were feeling and you sure didn’t want to push it. 

He has his entire attention directed at you. 

You pluck higher notes much different from the chords you were accustomed to, messing up in a few that no one seemed to notice. You straighten yourself and look over the entire bar, settling your eyes on him for a bit too long for him to notice.

And so thankful am I

To be able to do such as that

And never is it unwelcomed

The beats in my soul are no longer flat

Your eyes stay staring at him and the cheers drown out. Diluc’s hand raises a few centimeters from the counter but you have already picked up your book and instrument and left.

The drink is untouched as he follows after you, thanks to Charles.

--

You feel like you can’t breathe but there is physically nothing blocking your airway. You assumed it was due to the collection of body heat in the tavern but even the cool night air did nothing to soothe the burning in your face. 

Why did I look at him? Why was he looking back? What does this mean?

“Y/n!” You gasp at the sound of his voice and as you turn around you hope that it was just in your head. Your mouth opens and closes but you can’t speak. you don’t know what to say.

Truthfully, he doesn’t either. 

Diluc didn’t know what to expect when you told him it would be different. He definitely didn’t expect for the song to be about him. He had deducted this reasoning and confirmed it when your eyes met and to you leaving.

In that room he felt the same: his face was warm and his heartbeat picked up when you lingered your gaze on him. He didn’t know what this feeling was either. 

Neither of you are speaking, the breeze brushing through.

“I’m sorry!” You say, bowing your head so he cannot see the tears of confusion, frustration, and something else running down your face.

“Why are you apologizing?” He is near you now and he can feel you jump at his touch on your shoulder. When you don’t push him off he moves his gloved hand to cup your face to lift it up. This is the first time he’s seen you cry. 

Ironic, given your songs. 

Diluc lightly presses his thumb to your cheek to brush off a tear. “Apologizing is for if you’ve done something wrong. You have done nothing of the sort.”

“Are you sure?” You say without hesitation. It is an automatic response, built upon the hardening of your heart and soul through your travels. Diluc chuckles, a small smile on his face.

“I am sure.”

--

You strum lightly, a newfound lightness to you that almost everyone has noticed. Your songs still have that sorrowful reality to them but at the end they have changed. Seeing more of the graceful and fulfilling beauty of life.

Diluc still fixes you drinks after every performance and indulges you in conversation. This time around, however, he leans in closer and places his hand closer to yours.

And you are thankful to feel that emotion.

The Dismemberment Song | BOP Victor Zsasz x Reader | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey

Words: 3,791

Summary: Zsasz takes a liking to one of the burlesque dancers at Roman’s club.

PART ONE | PART TWO |

WARNINGS: graphic blood/gore/violence, reader may or may not torture and murder a guy, alcohol, all that good Gotham stuff, reader is kinda fucked up

Seriously, don’t read this if you don’t like blood

Based on The Dismemberment Song by Blue Kid! 

This is written as a kinda vague fem!reader, but if there’s interest I can always write alternate versions for different genders, more specific body/personality types, or whatever else might tickle your fancy! Just hit up my ask box!

Requests are open!! Pls, I really wanna write more Zsasz or Zsaszmask x reader, gimme ideas!

The Black Mask was a club that boasted only the best of the best. Top shelf booze, luxurious furnishings, and entertainers that Gotham’s other club owners wished they could get their hands on all came together to form the East End’s trendiest spot. You were lucky enough to be one of those very entertainers, and you had been performing onstage at Roman’s club ever since one of his goons saw you dancing at another spot across town. Roman Sionis had bought you easily, promising a good nightly wage and all the free drinks you could stomach, and a few years later, you were still enjoying the nice gig at the Black Mask. 

Most nights were the same; you showed up around seven, hung around in the dressing room with the others while you all got ready, and enjoyed a drink or two before your first number. You were always in the chorus, not that you really minded--Roman paid you more than enough to keep you happy, even though you knew the stars got more. Girls who did solo numbers, especially if they could sing, those were Mr. Sionis’s favorites. You never really expected to achieve that kind of status, not when people like Dinah Lance were around and holding his attention, so when Roman pulled you aside one night to tell you that he wanted to give you the chance to do your own routine, you nearly dropped your drink. 

“Full creative control,” he said, a hand resting at the small of your back as you gaped at him. 

“I--what?” you managed to choke out. “I-I mean, thank you, Mr. Sionis, really--”

“Please,” he chuckled. “Call me Roman.”

“Thank you, Roman,” you smiled, swallowing down your fear. “I won’t disappoint you, I swear.” 

“I know you won’t, doll.” he motioned for someone to bring him a drink. “Full creative control, like I said. I want to see what’s swirling around in that pretty mind of yours. Put some heart into it for me, k doll?”

You nodded. “You got it, boss.”

He grinned, hugging you to his side and pressing a kiss against your temple like he did with all the girls he liked. “Looking forward to it, beautiful.”

He let you go, turning to leave, and Zsasz slunk after him, but not before casting you an almost annoyed look. 

“Don’t disappoint,” he teased, whistling low before he followed his boss. 

You gulped. You were sure he wouldn’t mind peeling your face off, but you rather preferred staying alive.

“I won’t!” you called after him bravely. 

He glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes practically boring into you as if were sizing you up. He thought you were just some prissy little girl, didn’t he? Just like Roman, just like everybody else. But you would show them. They wanted to see what kind of shit really ate at your brain? Oh, you’d give them a nice little glimpse.

And so, only a couple shorts weeks later, here you were, getting ready in the dressing room like usual, only you were far more nervous than you had been for any other shift. You had busted your ass getting everything ready, even taking a few nights off to work twice as hard on what you hoped would be a good debut. You had given the band their sheet music, you had learned your lyrics inside and out (because you were absolutely determined to go that extra mile for Roman Sionis and show him that not only could you prance around onstage, but you could sing, too), and you had spent hours upon hours hand-decorating an old corset and lingerie set you had sitting around. Roman wanted this to come from the heart, he wanted a passion project, and you were gonna give it to him. 

You just had to pray that he was in the right mood to enjoy it.

“Think you’re good to go, my love,” the house mom said as she finished with your hair. 

You stared at yourself in the mirror. So far, so good...your hair was in big barrel curls, still warm to the touch as your house mom gave it a couple more passes with the hairspray for good measure. 

“You sure I don’t need--”

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead,” she interrupted, retreating to her usual chair. 

You kept staring at your reflection. “Do you think it’s too much? I mean...”

She laughed loudly. “Hon, this is Gotham. There’s no such thing as too much.”

Glancing down at your outfit, you weren’t so sure. “But...”

“But nothing. Now go on, go show Roman why he stays in business.”

You stood on shaky legs, nodding to her as you made your way towards the door. “R-right.”

“Break a leg,” she called after you. 

All you could do was nod. You knew what you were doing. You had practiced for hours every day to get ready for this. With a deep breath, you made your way down the hall leading to stage, shaking your hands out as you stood in the wings. You could do this. You were ready.

As soon as your stage name was announced, you stepped out, ruby encrusted heels clicking against the wooden floorboards. The lights were harsh, the crowd quiet as you came out to face them. The stage was set for you, a few props already waiting for you as you stood there, ready for the music to start.

Then, the band began playing, and you sprang into action.

“Hold still, my sweet. I’m tryin to measure the space between your molar and your jaw...” You sang, lunging forward to grab the medical-grade calipers sitting in a metal bucket for you. You trailed them down over your victim’s jaw, smiling as you did so. “...This caliper, no cause for fear. No it...it doesn’t hurt, it only helps me measure how much skin you have...”

Across the club, Zsasz looked up. He was standing near Roman, his boss sitting in a booth while he chatted with some business associates. He was far more interested in you than their conversation, his dark eyes tracking you as you moved across the stage. He was absolutely enthralled by your outfit, your tightly-laced corset covered in blood red rhinestones that glimmered under the stage lights, your matching bra and thong shining just as brightly. You looked like you were covered in blood, the gems catching his eye in a way he hadn’t expected. 

“--and the topmost layer of fat, but I won’t make an incision till you’re nice and numb...” There was an operating table on the stage, where one of Roman’s lowest-ranking goons was tied down. If Zsasz remembered correctly, this guy had fucked up pretty monumentally recently, so seeing him strapped down and struggling brought a grin to his face.

You ran over to the man, the crowd laughing as you leaned across him. “...Oh, and laughing gas can be so much fun, please don’t doubt my decision...”

The scene you had set was both comedic and sexual. In all honesty, Zsasz hadn’t expected you to do anything like this; you were a chorus girl, someone he had thought would go for something overdone and classic. Maybe some old school stupid, annoying, Singin In The Rain type shit, yet there you were, dressed in an outfit that was obviously meant to emulate dripping blood while you flitted around a man on a gurney. 

Zsasz couldn’t look away. 

“This’ll be ooh, this’ll be ahh, this’ll be absolutely whee!” you squealed, teasingly pressing your sawblade to the goon’s torso. “This’ll be nice, this’ll be neat and bring you closer to me...”

You grabbed the goon as he struggled against his restraints, holding him down. Zsasz was sure the man was in on your little number, and he thought it was cute; you were pretending to be some sort of killer, maybe trying to appeal to Roman’s face peely urges. Maybe you were trying to make the boss happy by scaring his lackey like this.

“So don’t you squirm, don't you fret, I'm not gonna hurt you...yet.” You grinned, leaning down before you shoved the man’s face to the side, letting him go as you ran back across the stage. “I just feel the need to be gettin’ a little of you, a lot of blood lettin’, I know the sensation you’re probably dreading...”

You pranced back to the gurney, moving with that little extra theatrical oomph that made everyone think you were just playing. You smiled as they clapped and laughed loudly. They would figure it out soon enough. 

“Cutting you up will be so refreshing for me...” you cooed, discarding the calipers in favor of a scalpel. You traced it down the goon’s bare chest, a little line of blood following the blade as it pierced his flesh. 

He let out a scream, just as you hoped he would, and you gave his little table a shove, sending it wheeling a short distance away. 

“Now don’t you cry,” You sang, “And don’t call Miriam, she’s my alibi...oh let me check your toes out!” You picked up a set of pliers, taking hold of his big toe. “Aren’t your toenails cute?” you grabbed one and pulled, the goon screaming as you removed the nail, leaving a bloody pulp behind. “...and red is such a lovely color on you!” you leaned down in his face, grabbing the opposite foot’s big toenail and yanking. “...But you won’t be needing those!”

Roman began clapping, giving a loud “Whoo!”  as he watched you. He had no idea that when you had asked him for the name of his least favorite henchman, this would be the reason. Now, watching the man suffer onstage in front of everyone while you were dancing around him in six inch heels and a scandalously skimpy outfit, Sionis was more than entertained. He was impressed, absolutely astounding by the cruelty his little burlesque dancer held inside of her. He couldn’t have hoped for more. 

“When you’ve got no knees!” you sang, dropping your weapons in favorite of a crowbar. “...Or shins, or pinky fingers, or arteries....”

You brought your weapon down on each of the man’s legs, somehow still managing to poise yourself perfectly as you did so. You gave him a few good whacks, then dropped the bar, leaning down to pick a knife up out of the bucket and run it over his hands teasingly. 

“...so hold still while I remove them!” you trilled. 

The man tried to sit up, struggling against his restraints, but you shoved him back down with a sweet smile. 

“...Oh, and don’t fight back,” you sang, hopping up to sit next to him. “I think you’ll find you’re missing the point, with that.”

Meanwhile, Victor Zsasz was grinning, showing off his gold teeth while he watched you. He kept a close eye on your hips as they swayed, his trained eyes following your ass as it moved across the stage. Were you really carving a man up right then and there? He wanted it to be true. He wanted to smell the overwhelming tang of blood as you plunged a knife into your victim. But he was too far away, and so he had to settle for watching instead. 

Your victim tried to scream, and you shoved his head to the side playfully. 

“That’s enough outta you!” you sang, holding his jaw tightly.

As you repeated your chorus, your knife returned to the man’s flesh and he grunted in pain, pleading to an audience that didn’t care about him. The Black Mask was a fucked up place for fucked up people, no matter how trendy it was, and nobody in the audience was going to protest when someone was torn apart onstage. Besides, Roman Sionis was far too powerful for the GCPD to go after, and as you heard him laughing loudly in the audience, you had a pretty good feeling that he wasn’t going to send anyone after you for carving somebody up in a way that only you could.

You kept going, peeling your underbust corset off with the same grace and dexterity that Zsasz peeled faces with. As you stood in only your bra, thong, garters and stockings, you felt exhilarated, powerful, as if you had been born to cur people up in front of an audience. 

It’s not like this was your first time chopping a body up, anyways; there was a reason you had to move to Gotham and get a new gig, after all.

Zsasz watched you. In fact, his eyes were glued to you, even when Roman walked away to chat with a few mob bosses in a nearby booth. Were you seriously killing this man right in front of everyone? Victor didn’t necessarily care for all the theatrics, but he could appreciate how seriously you took you took your craft, and he had to admit, he was surprised that this was what you had come up with when Roman told you to give him something good.

“‘Cause I’m all out of hurt, you’ve used up all I’ve got,” you taunted, sneering down at your victim as you brought your saw down on his leg. “So I’m chopping you up and still coming up squat! If I want it to bleed, I’ll just roll up my sleeve and saw and saw and saw...”

The blade cut back and forth, and Zsasz’s eyes followed it. Blood was spurting up, drenching your arms as if you were wearing red opera gloves. 

“And saw, and saw, and saw, and saw....”

“Zsasz, can you believe this?” Roman asked, leaning towards him.

“No, boss,” Zsasz said with a little grin, shaking his head. 

“She’s good. We may have to give her a new job...”

You paused, giving your victim a break as you tossed the saw back into the bucket, drops of blood spattering across the stage as you pulled out a large butcher knife. Before it could touch Roman’s henchman, you used it to flick open the clasp on your bra, tossing the thin little piece of lingerie out into the crowd. You didn’t really care where it went; you were too busy enjoying yourself. 

“This’ll be ooh, this’ll be ahh, this’ll be absolutely whee,” you purred, trailing the blade down the side of the man’s face. “This’ll be nice, this’ll be neat and bring you closer to me...”

“So don’t you squirm, don’t you fret, I’m not gonna hurt you, oh no, no, no, not...yet.” you plunged your blade into his chest, between two of his ribs, not close enough to knick his heart but definitely deep enough to cause him immense pain despite all the adrenaline that was sure to be running through his system now.

You pulled the knife back out, blood dripping off the metal blade as you held it tightly and pranced back across the stage. “I just feel the need to be gettin’ a little of you, a lot of bloodletting, I know the sensation you’re probably dreading but there’s one thing you’re forgetting...”

Turning back to him, you brought the blade to his throat, and in the crowd, Zsasz’s eyes lit up. He was delighted. He was enthralled. His pants were getting a little tight, but whatever. The rest of the audience was gazing up at you with wonder, disgust, amusement...but Zsasz was absolutely admiring the way you so confidently played with your victim. The theatrics were starting to grow on him, he decided, and he wanted nothing more than to go right up there and lick all that blood off your face.

“There’s nothing like the thrill of a shredding,” you sang, almost snarling, “but this is no orthodox beheading...”

You destroyed the man on the gurney, carving through him, drenching yourself in blood in an almost comical way. 

“Cutting you up,” you sang as you made an absolute mess. “Cutting you up...”

“Cutting you up is gonna be....” you finally stepped back, catching your breath as the song slowed. “...so refreshing for me.”

As your routine finished, you took a little bow, still holding the knife as you crossed your ankles and bent at the waist in a delightfully fancy gesture. The man on the gurney was very much dead, blood dripping down onto the stage, and the audience was still eating up every second of it. You could hear Roman cheering, and as you spotted him standing there amidst the crowd with Zsasz at his side, you blew them both a little kiss. 

“How about that?” you heard Roman’s voice boom above the clapping as you strode offstage. “I would call for an encore, but unfortunately, I think we’d need a new victim....”

Your head was still abuzz with the rush of killing, and you walked back to the dressing room in a daze. You were vaguely aware of Dinah Lance wrinkling her nose as you passed her, but you didn’t pay her any mind. Absolutely nothing could kill your good mood now. 

“Well?” the house mom asked as you made your way to your mirror. “Sounds like it went well, judging by those cheers...”

You smiled and hummed to yourself, nodding as you reached for something to clean your face with. You were going to need an entire shower to get all this blood off yourself. 

“Told you.” the house mom snorted a laugh. 

“He loved it,” you grinned. 

She shook her head in amusement. “You are one fucked up girl, I’ll tell you that much.”

“That’s showbiz, baby,” you joked, raising a towel to start working at wiping your face. 

“Oh, pussycat?” a singsong voice made you freeze. 

You could see Zsasz in the mirror. 

He was leaning in the doorway, smirking as he watched you. “Boss wants to talk.”

You paled. Had you fucked up after all? Did Roman get his shits and giggles and now planned on having Zsasz peel your face off? Sionis was infamous for his fickle moods. You’d watched him have plenty of people dragged off into back rooms just for speaking at the wrong time, and you had just done way worse than interrupt him. 

 You gawked at Zsasz, still staring at his reflection. What were you supposed to do? Run? He was blocking the only door, and there was no way you’d be able to get past him. You had no choice but to follow him to Roman. 

“O-Okay,” you managed to stammer out, finally turning towards him. “Lead the way.”

“Might want this.” he held up the bra you had tossed, twirling the strap around his finger while he gave you a smile that showed off his gold teeth.

“Give me that!” you snapped, rushing towards him.

“Ah.” he held it above his head, leering down at you. “Think I like this view more...”

“Zsasz!” you protested, scrambling against his chest and practically trying to claw your way up him to get your lingerie. 

He froze. He finally smelled the metallic tang of all that blood covering you, and coupled with the feeling of your tits against his chest...oh, he was so fucked. 

When he dropped the bra, you grabbed it from him, tossing it back to your mirror and moving to pick up a silky red robe off a nearby hook. You shrugged it on, tying it shut while Zsasz cleared his throat and offered you his arm. 

“Such a gentleman,” you sneered, taking it anyways. 

“When I want to be.” his voice was low and rough, as if his vocal chords were scraping against each other with every syllable. 

You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded, as he led you out into the club once more. The band was playing as a few people cleaned up the carnage you had left behind, the bar’s patrons all chatting and drinking again. It was as if nothing had even happened and they hadn’t just watched a man be torn apart onstage a few minutes prior. 

Zsasz took you to Roman, the crowd parting before the two of you easily. Sionis was sitting in his favorite booth, sipping his drink and laughing, still seeming to be in a very good mood.

“Ah, there she is!” He said when he saw you, standing up and spreading his arms.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You asked nervously as Zsasz let you go.

“Yes, yes, I had Mr. Zsasz grab you so that I could congratulate you on a thrilling performance.”

You stared at him. “You liked it?”

“Liked it? I loved it, darling! A bit messy for my tastes, but a lovely show, truly, though I suspect our dear Mr. Zsasz here wishes he could have been the one to take care of your victim. Isn’t that right, Zsasz?”

You glanced up at Zsasz. He grunted, not necessarily in agreement. He didn’t hate watching your performance by any means, and as much as he enjoyed helping little birds fly away from the world, he rather enjoyed watching you do it, too. 

“I’m glad, Mr. Sionis,” you said. 

“I told you, call me Roman.” he took a sip of his drink. “You know, normally, I don’t enjoy it when someone kills the people that belong to me, but I must admit, you certainly have a way with a knife.”

“I would have asked your permission, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” you gulped. 

“And what a lovely surprise it was!” Roman laughed loudly. “You’re very talented...in fact, how’d you like a promotion? Yes? Perfect, perfect! No, no, don’t shake my hand, you’re...well, you’re covered in blood. Quite frankly, it’s disgusting.” He snapped his fingers. “Mr. Zsasz, take her up to the penthouse so she can clean up, I don’t want all this blood getting on the new carpeting in here.”

“Oh, Mr. Sio--Roman,” you cleared your throat, “I can use the shower in the dressing room, really, it’s no trouble--”

“Nonsense, nonsense.” he waved you away. “You’re part of the team now, aren’t you? Besides, a job well done deserves some sort of reward. Zsasz will show you upstairs. Don’t worry, he’s completely harmless.”

As Zsasz put a hand on your lower back, you had your doubts. Harmless wasn’t really a word you would choose to describe Roman’s right hand man. 

“Come on, princess.” Zsasz purred, guiding you through the crowd before you had much of a chance to protest. 

He took you to the elevator in the corner, the bouncer standing guard in front of it stepping aside with a nod. The man hit the up button, and soon, you were pressed up against Zsasz in the small space, on your way up to Roman’s spacious penthouse. 

Past and Present

Part 12

Part 13 [CURRENT]

Part 14

DT: @petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @jump-in-the-cadillac @ivorylin @sydneys-sketches 

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

Tommy quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The group in front of them turned to face the source of the group. Tommy mentally smacked himself upside the head as he pulled Fundy behind him, the Lovely Trio slipping behind him as Kristin and Grian stepped in front of Sam and Puffy, who held the children close. It wasn’t until three familiar faces made their way to him, that he felt like breaking. It wasn’t because Phil was there, concern and relief flooding his face as he looked over Tommy. It wasn’t because Techno was looming over them, facial expression unchanging, only betrayed by the several emotions going through his eyes. It wasn’t because of Ghostbur, because Ghostbur wasn’t floating there. He wasn’t even floating he was standing. There, standing with his hands stuffed into his pockets, stood Wilbur, who was very much alive. The three of them stepped towards the youngest member of their family, the one they missed so dearly, only to stop when he put his hands up in defense, stepping closer to the fox shifter behind him.

“Wilbur, you’re...you’re-”

“Tommy, you’re okay!”

Everyone on the Dream SMP frowned as Tommy made an “eh” noise, making a balancing movement with his hand as he peered back at the group behind him, all who, aside from Sam and Puffy, made similar noises and movements back at them. Much to their embarrassment, they were the only ones who found amusement to it. Regaining his composure, Tommy turned back to Kristin, giving her pleading eyes. She nodded before nudging Grian, who was already moving to pick up Theo. Clem smiled as she climbed into the embrace of her grandmother, hugging her with delight. After being reassured that the children were away from the group, Tommy returned his gaze to the members of his older server. 

“Let’s go to a more private space. I would very much like you all more if you don’t start anything unnecessary during my opening.”

Without waiting for a response, Tommy turned and, after ensuring Fundy was safely in front of him, began walking out of the cavern, everyone else following behind. As he waved to guests and Hermits alike, he led the group into one of the larger taverns. Taking out a keycard from behind the automated desk, he patted the robot working there before walking over to a large set of double door. Humming a tune that caught Wilbur’s attention, he inserted the keycard and pushed the doors open, leading the group in. He closed the door after the last two people, who happened to be a very disgruntled Jack and Niki. After everyone was sat down in their own seats, they all exchanged uncertain looks. Finally, Fundy decided it was best to break the silence. 

“So, I see the resurrection was successful.”

“Yeah, we managed to get Wilbur bac-”

“You have a son.”

Tommy saw Fundy stiffen beside him as the voice of Wilbur spoke up, quieter than they remembered. Fundy pressed his lips in a thin line as he peered up to his newly revived father. Giving him a little nod Fundy cleared his throat as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, I do. He’s great, you know. Very smart and fun, sneaky too.”

“Do I know who your significant other is?”

“I wouldn’t call him my significant other, we aren’t together. He was very...the situation was...we didn’t work out. But, yeah, you know him. You all do, actually.”

“Who is it?”

“Dream”

Fundy quickly spoke the name, reeling back as he waited for the expected backlash. Hesitating for a moment, he almost believed that, much like the situation with Tommy, he would receive no backlash. He was, however, quickly proven wrong. The only other revived man there was the first to speak up.

“WHAT?!”

“YOU FUCKED DREAM?!”

“LANGUAGE!”

“THE FURRY FUCKED GOD, OH MY FUCKING ENDER-”

“George? George, can you hear me? Dude, blink if you can hear me-”

“When we said ‘suck it green boy’, we didn’t mean literally!”

“How did you manage to get him to-”

As the chaos began to rise, Fundy began to shrink in his seat, panic settling in. Taking note of this, Tommy frowned as he tried to settle everyone down. When no one responded to him, he grew frustrated. Getting annoyed, Tubbo sat up to yell at the source of the chaos, only to find that he was beat to it. With a loud foot stomp, a booming voice yelled over the chaos. 

“Will you all shUT UP?!” 

Silence filled the room as everyone turned to face the source of the yell. There, fists clenched tightly by her side, stood Drista. Everyone hesitated about her next course of action, as the eyes on her mask seemed to glow with her annoyance. As she sat down, crossing her arms and legs together, she huffed as she prepared to speak up once more. Much to her annoyance, however, the door to the room creaked open, a new presence creeping in. 

“Sorry I’m late, you all have seem to have forgotten me back on my server.”

Everyone watched as the figure approached, Fundy shrinking in his seat. Tommy stiffened in his own, one hand in Tubbo’s, the other clamped around Fundy’s wrist. Tubbo, on the other hand, glared at the floor as he held onto Tommy’s hand, as if that alone would solve their issues. The figure, now more visible to be Dream, hummed as he stood in between the three boys and the members of his server. Seeming to only focus on the three, he crossed his arms as he laughed.

“Wow, I didn’t think I’d see you three again. Tommy, Tubbo, it’s been years. Good to see you two in good shape. Fundy, I haven’t seen you in a little over two years. Didn’t think that I’d find you here, of all places. Did you all miss m-”

SMACK

Everyone stared in shock as Dream held onto his face, trying to keep his mask steady as he regained his balance. Once he quickly regained his composure, he quickly turned to face his “attacker.” Standing in all her glory, stood his sister, hands on her hips as she stood there, anger simmering underneath her mask. As she stood up straight, she hummed in acknowledgment as Lani walked up beside her, leaning on her for support. Holding her hand out, Lani smirked as Drista gave her a high five. The beginning of their best friend handshake was cut short, however, when Dream spoke up once again.

“Drista? When did you get here? Is this where you’ve been? Why haven’t you come by to visit me-”

“Oh, I don’t know, why did you never reach out to me? And if you had bothered to show up to the revealing of the park on time, you would have known where I’ve been. Now sit down and stay quiet so we can all catch up.”

“And none of you better try attacking! All guests are unable to do any form of pvp that’s not in any of the special arenas, so don’t even try!”

“Yeah, what Lani said!”

--------

The group was walking to the opposite side of Tavern Town, towards the booth games. Fundy was walking with Quackity and Karl, telling them of al the projects he had done since he last saw them. Not trusting her brother at all, Drista walked beside Dream, Lani joining in on keeping an eye on the admin. Tubbo was catching up with Ranboo, as well as timidly speaking with an unusually kind Schlatt. Humming as he walked in the front of the group, Tommy bopped his head as he replayed a song in his head. Opening his mouth, he quietly sang out the lyrics that swam in his head.

“He’s in your bed-”

“-I’m in your Twitch chat”

Jumping slightly, Tommy turned to see Wilbur, walking up to be by his side. Joining him in this was both Phil and Techno, the three of them as awkward as ever. Unsure as to what to expect from them, Tommy just gave them a nod of acknowledgment. As much as he wanted to embrace the three of them into a grand hug, telling them how much he missed and loved them, he didn’t dare to do so. After all the years they spent away from each other, he was able to reflect and forgive them for the wrong things they’ve done to him, intentional or not. What he didn’t know, however, was how they viewed him after all these years. Did they forgive him for all the troublesome chaos he caused, intentional or not? Could they find it in themselves to do so? He didn’t blame them if they didn’t, he wasn’t even sure if he would.

“You know, we thought that you had died, mate. No one had seen you in so long after...after L’manburg. And I know he isn’t family, but he practically was, so it was concerning when Tubbo went missing too. Then, out of nowhere, Fundy was gone overnight. I thought I lost my family, so I became desperate to get Wilbur back so that the three of us could get you all back.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, mate?”

“Why get us back? Why want us as family?”

Did he forgive them? Yes, of course he did. Doesn’t mean that he had to forget their actions, as well as the consequences that came from them. Doesn’t mean that he wasn’t allowed to question their decisions. He still loved them, sure, but he needed answers. He needed to know if they loved him back, if they loved all of them. He watched as Wilbur was in deep thought, trying to find the right words to say. He turned to see Phil, emotion running through his face as he stared at Tommy, not knowing what to say to his questions. The last person he thought would speak up, spoke up.

“We were blinded by our own emotions, Thes- er, Tommy. That’s not an excuse for our impulsive decisions, especially ones that put your life at stake, we know this. But we are family, as much as I tried to run away from that fact over the last few years. I let the voices and the power that I held as a pvp god distract me from my original mission.”

“Original mission? What was that?”

“Protecting you. Well, protecting everyone in my family. I have always been protective of my family, but the first night you were brought home changed how I handled that. The moment you laughed, I knew that I had to get stronger to keep all of you safe. I never thought that I’d use that strength against the very same person who brought me to want to become stronger. I’m not going to beat around the bush, we’ve been a shit family to each other these past years. We’ve hurt you, in ways that we may not even know. But, Tommy, if you let us, we can try to be the family you deserve.”

Tommy stared at his eldest brother, surprise painting his face. Blinking a few times, he switched his gaze over to both Phil and Wilbur, before returning it to Techno. Lightly biting his tongue, he took his gaze off of the pink haired warrior and faced the front, refusing to look at any of the three men walking beside him. Finally putting proper words together in his mind, Tommy spoke up once more.

“You all have hurt me in a handful of ways, that is true. But I’ve also hurt all of you, too. For all that, I’m sorry. As for not being a family, that can’t be solved quickly. This isn’t something we can speedrun into a healthy dynamic.”

“Tommy, we-”

“But that doesn’t we still can’t heal. If you are all willing to take the time and effort to work with all of us to fix our family, I’m willing to give you that chance. Oh, and Technoblade? You can call me Theseus, it is a part of my name, after all.”

Tommy couldn’t help but smile as the tension from the three men left their bodies, relief taking its place. Peering behind him, he made eye contact with his nephew, who stared back with worry. His worry, however, melted into a content smile as Tommy gave him a reassuring nod. Waving him over, Tommy smiled as Fundy excused himself, jogging up to be at his uncle’s sign. 

“Hey, Tom- Hey!”

“Haha! Look at you, being all amazing!”

“Can you not be an embarrassing uncle for five seconds?”

“Nope!”

Fundy rolled his eyes at his uncle, laughing for a while before standing up straight. Ducking his head in nervousness, he gave a shy smile and wave to his grandfather, as well as his other uncle and father. Before words were exchanged, however, a frantic wail filled the air, catching Fundy’s attention immediately. Taking a few steps in front of everyone else, he kneeled down with arms open. Running towards him was Theo, wide eyes as he reached for his father, who lifted him into the air in an instant. Burrowing his face into the neck of his father, Theo dramatically wailed once more. The concern that once filled Fundy and Tommy had melted away at this. They now knew that he wasn’t in danger, he was just overreacting. The two of them would bet anything that a certain gremlin was behind this. 

“Theo, what’s wrong, buddy?”

“SHE WAS GIVEN A SWORD, WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIIIIIIEEEEE!!!!!”

Fundy and Tommy gave each other a look, both unsure as how to respond to that. A shrill shriek of joy caught the entire group’s attention. There, frantically swiping a wooden sword in the air, came a joyful Clementine at full speed. Running up to Fundy, she began to jump up and down, sword waving in the air, as she tried to reach Theo, who had managed to climb on top of his father’s head.

“DON’T LET HER REACH ME, PAPA!!! SHE’S CRAZY WITH THAT THING!!!”

Theo shrunk behind his father’s hat as Clementine reacted to his statement by growling at the fox hybrid. Sighing, Tommy scooped up the rowdy child, who squealed as she hugged the sword.

“Clem, ya can’t go around swinging a sword at your cousin. And don’t ever hug an actual sword, ever, dear god. I’d like you to keep your fucking limbs, Jesus Christ.”

Clem only responded to this with a giggly smile, turning back to face her cousins. Fundy rolled his eyes as he plucked his son off his head, cradling him in his arm as Theo hugged his father’s hat in his chest. 

“Clem, what do we say when we hurt someone or make them scared?”

“SUCK IT!!!”

“For fucks sake, Clementine, no. We say that to jackasses and assholes, not to your cousin. Try again, Clem.”

“Humph, sorry, TT.”

“Hm, okay! I forgive you, CC!”

Before the children, who were now conversing in their own secret language, were introduced to everyone, a concerned Grian and Kristin ran over. Once they saw the children, they physically relaxed. 

“Thank goodness they came to you guys, we nearly panicked when they ran. Things were going great, but then Clementine whacked Grian on the foot before turning her attention to Theo.”

“It’s what we expected, this is Clementine we’re talking about.”

“Grian? Is that really you?”

Grian stiffened as he turned to face Phil, Wilbur and Techno staring at him in disbelief. Rubbing his arm in uncertainty, he watched as Phil walked up to him. Eyes scanning his face, Phil let out a strangled noise as he threw his arms around Grian, never expecting to see his first missing son after all the years that passed by. Grian let out a sigh as he hugged back, a smile painted on his face. Pulling away, he let out a laugh as he turned to his brothers. Shooting Tommy a look, Grian snickered at the nod of approval given to him. Turning back to Wilbur and Techno, he let out a hearty laugh as he yelled out words that Techno knew too well.

“OH, I’M PRESSING THAT HUG BUTTON!!!”

“Wait-”

Tommy wheezed out a laugh as Wilbur and Techno were pulled into a group hug by Grian, the triplets finally being reunited. It wasn’t until they heard the choked up and shy tone that came when Phil spoke.

“Kristin? How, uh, hey! How up? What’s you? Shit, wait, no. How are you?”

“Really? Decades separated, and this is the greeting I get.”

“I didn’t mean to be-”

“At least buy me dinner, sheesh.”

‘When I look back on my life It's so hard to face you I never wanted to fight this fight I'm ashamed of the truth No, I don't want to hurt you, baby I don't want to hurt you, baby I didn't mean to hurt you, baby

God, I'm sorry’

When I look back on my life I never wanted this fight (I don't want to hurt you baby) If I could turn back time (I don't want to hurt you baby) I would make it alright (I don't want to hurt you baby)

I love you, I love you sunshine’

Unbelievable, but I painted something new and even managed to finish it in two sittings.

Finally a proper painting of my Sabbat Nosferatu character Fox for our upcoming Sabbat game set in San Francisco. Since his story didn’t start yet I can only share something about his background.

Fox came to San Francisco from a small town in Ohio to escape a brewing unhappiness and resentment towards his mother and responsibility of caring for his two younger sisters that in his eyes slowed him down. He was tired of having to act like an adult in his family and also having to endure the looks and gossips of his classmates, because everyone knew what his mother did for a living to be able to take care of her three kids.

He had these naive dreams that living in California will bring him more and better opportunities to make good money and to live the life he often saw on tv growing up. He really wanted to become something, to prove his mother that you can get money with honest, not self-degrading work. He really hoped that he will be able to earn enough money to ensure that his sisters will never end up in the same line of work as his mother.  Of course the reality was not quite how he imagined, he struggled to find work at first, having to even spend a few nights sleeping in the park, but with his determination and eagerness to do just almost any work he was able to find various construction work and other small odd jobs to sustain his basic human needs. A lot of his colleagues were of Mexican and Venezuelan origin and through daily socializing with them he actually picked up some Spanish. He was still looking for a better, stable job but even though he often had little money to go on, he was adamant to stay clear of any criminal work. After about 6 months he was able to secure a job as the sewage treatment plant worker, it wasn’t as glorious work as he dreamed of and the surroundings were often very unpleasant, but he hid his pride and put his best efforts to do his job well. He quickly became very good at it and was even promoted, with the extra money he was able to rent a small apartment.Although far from how he imagined it, his life for the next few years was quite good, he managed to find himself a girlfriend and was planning to get marry to her, the biggest problem was that Gloria was in the US illegally, so he had to figure out how to make it happen.

Unfortunately everything changed when Fox got into an accident during his work when a gas pipe exploded and a fire had started. He was one of the few people injured, but unfortunately for Fox, he was the one who got the most severe burns that covered about 40% of his body, unfortunately also his lower half of the face, neck and hands. After this accident his life spiraled quickly, his company had friends in higher places, so instead of paying for health bills of their workers, they actually scapegoated Fox and sued him and his group of workers for the accident. He had no money for a fancy lawyer, so he lost the case, together with his medical bills his debts started piling up. His personality changed, he was angry or didn't speak at all for days. Gloria tried to help him and tried to be by his side, but he hated the fact that he could see the pity on her face whenever she looked at him. So he really started being mean to her so she would leave him alone, right now he didn't want anyone around. One day it got out of hand and he pushed her out of the door and told her never to come back, that she should get back to her Taco country or something offensive like that. He also managed to shout some Spanish insults at her, his words really hurt her as she ran away with tears.After a few days he felt really bad for breaking the things between him and Gloria in such a horrible way. He knew deep down that he needed her and wanted her by his side, even if it hurt to see how she looked at him, he knew that she was worth it. She actually never showed him where she lived before, so obviously the only places to look for her were the areas where she used to work. He hated to go outside and interact with people as they would always look at him the same, with pity and disgust, but he wanted to try to make up with Gloria. Yet when he asked in the bar the manager said that Gloria didn’t come to work in a last few days. He then went to ask around in the market she used to help and one of the women there told him that two days ago there was a police investigation and that they took a lot of people without proper papers away and that Gloria was among them.

Once again Fox felt absolutely helpless, she was probably detained and ends up deported back to Mexico and there is nothing he can do about it. He had no money, he didn’t even know where exactly she was. That night he bought a few bottles of tequila, drank as much as he could before he felt sick and threw up, which fucking hurt as all of his scars weren't fully healed yet. He hated himself, it was his fault she ended up on the street and now she is gonna end up back in Mexico with her last memories of him will be him yelling all this horrible shit to her face. He was ashamed of himself.

After this his life got even worse, now he had no emotional support, no friends, no job, painful scars that made him look like a monster. He usually spent his days staring at the ceiling, he couldn't really drink much as it was just too nasty, so he just existed for a while. His debts forced him to find work, but he couldn't do physical jobs he was used to anymore, he managed to find some odd jobs, probably because people felt bad for him which he resented. He even worked in 7/11 store, but all of his jobs were just temporary, he couldn’t keep any of them for more than for a week. It was not that his employers were unhappy with him, but Fox couldn’t just stand all the stares and pity looks he got from his employers, coworkers and customers. It didn't take long and he couldn’t keep up with the rent and when he lost the apartment, he became homeless. He could of course get back to his mother, but he actually didn't even notify neither him or his sister about his accident, he didn't want to be a burden and also he had too much pride to ever getting back to that shitty small town. All he wanted was to hide from people, to be spared of their pitiful glances and their talk about how strong he was. He wasn’t strong, he was a shitty, pathetic person who abandoned his family, resented his own mother, he failed his sisters and he treated the person that he loved as a Punchbag for his spite and insecurities, and now she will probably end up in some kind of human trafficking ring, because of him.

I will talk about his Embrace in more detail in some future post, but basically he was a shovelhead who somehow managed to get a chance to prove himself to the Sabbat. Although he loves his pack( some more than others) he still isn’t quite convinced by the Sabbat’s ideology, his biggest difficulty being the ever-present unnecessary violence, he still tries to cling to the last bits of humanity inside of him and that often leads to dissatisfaction from the Bishop and thus reflecting badly on his pack. He is torn between trying to fit in and wanting to measure up to his fellow Cainites and to do what feels right in his heart…

I am honestly very excited to finally play a Nosferatu. ❤

Fox © me/doloresdraws lyrics  ©  Hurt by Meg Myers

Three Asks

It’s been a while since we answered some asks so today and maybe tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, we’ll collect some and answer them since we’ve gotten while a few in the last two or three weeks.

In today’s post I picked out the three most recent asks we’ve received, two of which are ones I’d usually just delete because answering is pointless but one of them showcased a popular pattern so we decided to reply just this once. So this time around the questions are about Namjoon and Seokjin, next time we’ll do ones about Tae and Jimin (and vmin), and so on.

Ask 1 - Did Namjoon have to bring up the criticism he received in 2015/16 in the Juju Chang interview?

Ask 2 and 3 - questions from either diet solos (someone who isn’t quite a solo stan just yet but exhibits the same thought patterns as solos do) or full on solo stans.

From anon: So you must have seen their interview alongside the President right on a news show? Most of it was fine and I liked how involved they were especially JK, but a point Namjoon made is what I'm kinda dicey about. He addressed that they were called out for WoH lyrics but the thing is I'm not sure if it needed to be brought up. Especially in American media and the way they contextualize things..

Obviously he meant that they grew from it but not sure if that was the way to put it I guess?

I will admit, there aren’t many times when asks that get sent to us annoy me, but this one in conjunction with the absolute nonsense that took place about this on twt just made my blood boil. Let’s look at the question and answer so we have full context when it comes to the interview and then, after that, we’ll look at the greater context of why Namjoon saying what he did is significant and a big deal.

Juju Chang: You guys are an all male band and, let’s face it, Korea, historically, has been a very male dominated culture and yet here at the UN one of the core values in Sustainable Development is educating women and having gender equality. You have a lot of female fans. What would you say to them about gender equality and working towards that?

Namjoon: Personally, I received a lot fo criticism regarding misogyny in 2015 and 2016, which led me to get my lyrics reviewed by a women’s studies professor. That experience, in turn, was an opportunity for me to self-reflect and question whether I’d been insensitive toward gender equality. I want to do the best I can to take interest in the topic, learn and make improvements. That’s my perspective now. 

Namjoon used a personal story as framework to showcase that even someone like him, a man in a position of power/influence from a country which, as the interviewer explained, is very male dominated can learn, grow and, in the long run, contribute to change. It takes tremendous bravery to do something like this, to not only admit that you made such a mistake, but also to take it and grow from it, take the time to reflect and strive to better yourself to never repeat it again. And also talk about doing so not only during an international broadcast but also while your own president sits right there next to you.

Perhaps there are a relatively big number of countries in the west where equality is much closer to being a reality, where it is a core value to respect woman, one that you are raised with, but here the context was specifically BTS and their background, their country and their culture. From K-ARMY we know that things have taken a turn for the worse in Korea when it comes to women’s rights and the behavior of men toward them, how feminism is treated essentially as a dirty word and you will get hunted down for using it or for behaving in a feminist manner. Namjoon himself was placed on some list made by misogynists labeling him as a dirty, dirty feminist. The same men who even went after the military to get them to stop using a hand gesture which could, if you really want to, be used to make fun of a man for a small d*ck. In polls men in their 20s and 30s have voted being against feminism and I don’t mean just like 10 or 20% of voters, but rather 50-70%, even some presidential candidates have apparently been revealed as anti-feminists.

Circling back to Namjoon, having this context, do you now get why it was a big thing for him to say this, why it makes him a role model and why it was important to do so? Besides this isn’t just about the WoH lyrics which, to be frank, were never an actual issue but instead were made into one (the line I know that usually get’s brought up most is “The girls are equations, and us guys are solutions” which, if you think about it, actually means that boys and girls are equal since 2+5=7, the equation and the solution are the same, and also the song is satire about hormonal boys and their behavior which people have decided to ignore for the sake of sitting on their high horses instead). Namjoon wasn’t even the only member credited for the lyrics yet he took the blame upon himself, used this to better himself even though we know 2015 was an extremely dark time for him. But he is the leader, he took responsibility and he grew from it. He stands as example of how change is possible even in a country that is male dominated and misogynistic.

From anon: Reading your post about My universe I can’t but be heavy hearted. 

It’s such a beautiful song but Jin not having almost any lines ruined the experience for me. He deserves so much more than being a mere backup vocal. Same goes to Jimin but I’m not as effected as Jin, since we’ve all seen a pattern there. 

We know the boys decide collectively decide LD and how it fits their personalities and voices but I can’t but feel icky about Dynamite, not today, BS&T and now MY. 

I truly hope this doesn’t continue and BH decides to respect Jin more as an artist. He’s one of the biggest reasons the group is where it is now.

Though I can’t say with 100% certainty that this comes from someone that has consumed too much solo stan “content”, it does very much feel like it and the only reason why I’m even answering this is that I’d like to highlight something, a pattern we've seen a million times over for years now in regard to line distribution but that is even more glaring and flawed in this case, after we’ve seen how My Universe was recorded:

“We know the boys collectively decide” and yet “and BH decides to respect Jin more”, with this you’re basically saying that you know all the members, including Seokjin, are involved BUT since giving him and the others slack for it would make you look bad, you instead throw blame at BH, which in this case had no say in the line distribution. That choice was Christ Martin’s to make. If you already complain about line distribution, at least have the guts to direct your hate at the people you just said yourself make the choice--the members. Solos already belittle Seokjin’s efforts as it is, and constantly demand an acting debut of him which basically, to me, just comes across as them wanting him to act because they don’t value his singing and music, so would it be really that farfetched for them to also hate on him for, what, not speaking up and demanding more to satisfy you?

Seokjin was so happy and excited while recording My Universe, while meeting Chris Martin, someone he’s admired and been a fan of for so long. He gave his best while recording and sounded absolutely marvelously, and yet instead of celebrating him, his voice, and what we do hear of him, you just focus on the negatives.

BH isn’t perfect by any means, don’t even try to come into our asks calling me a company stan or whatever because I’m far from it, but in this case they had nothing to do with it. Coldplay and Chris Martin did. We saw all the members record the chorus, and we heard it, we saw and heard Seokjin sing absolutely beautifully and get praise for it, and we saw how happy this collab has made him. Why can’t you just let this be a happy time, why must you immediately search for things to be negative about?

Would I have liked so hear more of his voice on My Universe? Obviously, I even said as much in my post about the song. I love Seokjin and his voice a lot, he is my bias wrecker for a reason. But the song has already happened, been recorded, mastered, and released. What will a negativity parade change? What? Absolutely nothing except for make him feel bad because you can’t just say “Seokjin did amazingly, I love his voice”, no, you have to go around yelling “OMG he is being cut from the song because BH hates him”. What does that do for him? Like really, tell me, because I don’t get it.

And if my opinion isn’t valid enough for you, it is, after all, just an opinion, take Seokjin’s opinion about the collab instead:

Or asks such as this one:

From anon: I honestly can’t wait for Seokjin to go solo one day. Go where he’s appreciated for his talents and musicality, not cuz he’s just a “hyung” or “comic relief” or “WWH”.

Where, tell me, has he ever expressed an interest in going solo? No, I’m serious, where, because all I know is that he is happy with his members, with what he does, that he enjoys making music and getting more involved than he used to. Just the other day during the interview with Juju Chang he spoke about how he misses the old times where he could go for soju and food with Yoongi to spend some time together.

And just a few years before that Yoongi said that Seokjin has been good from the beginning, and there are tons of other examples of the members praising Seokjin in terms of his voice and musicality. When he was going through burnout last year, Bang PD encouraged him to channel his thoughts and feelings into music, recommended him a producer he thought work well with him, and Seokjin said it really did help him. And we got Abyss as result from it all, a gorgeous and raw song. 

Yes, he gets praise for being a good hyung, because guess what, he is a good hyung. Maybe for you that’s not good enough, but he’s proud of it, has always taken the fact that he’s the eldest seriously even when goofing around with his members. How is that a bad thing?

Seokjin loves his members and they love him. Seokjin loves ARMY and we love him back tenfold. Just because solos hate the members and aren’t satisfied with Seokjin, how is that my issue or even his? If you’re a genuine fan of his, support his hard work, support all his contributions to BTS’ music, their performances, their dancing, and everything else. Because he is part of BTS regardless if you like it or not, and as far as we are aware, he doesn’t plan on changing that any time soon, or at all. 

The Hangover (Def Leppard x Reader)

(Happy birthday to my blog!! To celebrate 3 years of the place where I concentrate my insane Leppard obsession, I thought I’d celebrate by posting the FIRST Def Leppard fanfic I EVER wrote ((which I have NEVER posted anywhere before!)) I began writing this exactly 3 years ago today- the day I made this blog ((February 19th, 2018))- and officially finished it about a year later. This is not intended as a romantic/sexual fic, it’s simply just an x reader in which the reader is basically one of the guys. In other words, it’s on crack.)

((I am aware this is kind of cringe-worthy at times... but I still like a lot of things about it. While I revised it very slightly before queuing it,  I was still 16 when I started writing this, okay... gimme a break...))

(Illustration by @paper-sxn​)

Words: 8,684 Prompt: Dublin, 1984. You’re with the Leppards in their early pre-Hysteria era house. You all wake up with hangovers after a boozed-up night at home, and you each try to put the pieces of the previous night back together. Meanwhile, you’re praying that one particular piece won’t fit in anywhere... (partially inspired by the “Blitzgiving” and “The Pineapple Incident” episodes of How I Met Your Mother)

-----

Gently piercing white light made its way through the windows of the bedroom. It hit your eyelids, and it hit your brain, igniting a brief but killer headache. As your eyes clasped together more, you turned your face into the gloriously soft pillow. For a second you asked yourself why you would have a headache so early in the morning, but then…

You laughed quietly into the bed, recalling without warning some vague happenings from the night before. There wasn’t much you remembered, but you clearly saw the image of the guys flat out drunk at some point (you along with them). There were some blips of you all singing together, Sav hanging from a door frame, you chugging some scotch, Joe chugging some vodka, Steve’s hair being in pigtails, and you think Phil might’ve been giving you a lap dance... or vice versa. It was, all in all, hysterical (at least- that’s what you wanted to think).

 Other than those faint events, unfortunately, the night was gone. Still, you were thrilled that it happened. Crazy times with your boys were always good.

You rubbed your eyes, ready for more sleep to combat the pounding in your head. When you did, they opened a little, and you realized… this wasn't your room you were in. Squinting around, you noticed that you were sleeping in Phil’s room instead of yours.

Oh, it’s not that much of a problem, you mused, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. I’ve woken up to worse in this place.

You let your eyes close again easily, and you found peace as you began to fall under again. That is, until you felt someone move next to you.

When it happened, you became aware of the warmth coming from someone else in the bed. They only shifted in their sleep a little bit before going still again. Your eyes went wide, and you held your breath. You don’t remember getting into bed with someone (in fact, you don’t remember getting into bed at all). Turning your head, you looked to see what sort of stranger was in bed with you currently. Instead of a stranger, scraggly blonde hair over a kind and shy face met your sight, and you were instantly calmed upon realizing that it was just Steve. That was good, that was good, but why were you and Steve sleeping in Phil’s bed? You were sure you didn’t have sex last night- at least, not with Steve. This tiny moment of appeasement and confusion was cut short by the faint sound of guitar chords coming from downstairs. The music echoed to your ears, signaling that it had to be Phil, and that he was playing the opening to Bringin On the Heartbreak. Cautiously taking the covers off you- not wanting to wake Steve- you felt obliged to go to the other guitarist. When you stood up and began walking, you nearly fell forward from the sudden vertigo of your hangover. You had to hold onto the counter of Phil’s dresser for extra support, and that’s when your reflection in his mirror caught your eye. Not only that, but that’s when your outfit also caught your eye. One of the guys’ Union Jack tank tops had been slipped over you somehow, and two hand prints were on either side of your face in dried paint; one was blue, one was green. "What…?“ you whispered, touching your face and feeling the shirt on you. It seemed to fit you alright, which made you wonder whose it really was. You were also in black underwear, and nothing else. While eyeing yourself, you took notice of Steve in the reflection. You now saw a few big red lipstick stains on his face, untouched and unsmudged. It was pretty cute, you had to admit, but another thing that came to your attention was that it wasn’t you who was wearing the lipstick at the moment. So then who kissed Steve all over his face? You treaded carefully down the hallway, putting one foot in front of the other and dragging a hand on the wall for support. The melody of the distant guitar didn’t cease the whole time you trekked through the house to get to Phil. When the chords of the song dragged on to the part where the vocals should have begun, no vocals came. Everything in the house looked remarkably the same (despite everything you remember from last night). There were large, ripped pieces of cardboard in the middle of the hallway;  scattered out as if leaving a trail. Alongside that, there was a piece of paper labeled “pay 2 the orerr of Rick: one fuckin bendee straw” in what may have been Sav’s handwriting on top of the stairs, and blue paint smudged on the railing going downwards (guaranteeing that whoever did that eventually got to your face, too).

Step by step you descended as the scenery of the house teetered around you (a little too reminiscent of Me & My Wine, you would add). When you reached the bottom of the stairs and looked into the living room, sure enough, Phil was there, strumming away.

“But it’s easy come and easy go…” he hummed.

“You’re…” you mumbled, burped a little, and continued, “Awake. How?” He stopped playing and crossed his arms, quietly sassing you, “Ah, she rises again. You regrettin’ anything yet?” You blinked and rubbed your eyes, scratching a little bit of paint off of your face and inquiring in a scratchy, tired tone, “I guess so… but- how? You, how?” Phil took off his guitar and stood up with his hands in his pockets, “Because I barely drank at all last night, and I also sure as hell didn’t shag Steve in someone else’s bed!” “How do you mean- I didn’t- wait- and Steve- what?” you rubbed your head, getting dizzy, causing Phil to guide you to the couch. “I didn’t- I didn’t shag Steve last night,” you insisted. “Mm hmm,” the guitarist hummed disapprovingly, “Alright.” “What the hell are you on about?” Phil smirked evilly and laughed, “He carried you upstairs, we heard the door close, and then some rather happy noises were heard, so we all just assumed-!” “That’s not-” you swallowed and lay your head back on the couch, “-a valid assumption.” “Oh, you poor thing,” came the sarcastic remark, “You really don’t remember, do you?” “Well I figured if I ever fucked any one of you I would- you know- remember it!” you raised your voice at him, then rubbed your temples. “I’m touched, really. But I’ll fill you in a bit,” Phil yanked up his guitar he’d put down, placed himself next to you, and played the into to “Ballroom Blitz”. Then a bit of the night came back to you. “Oh... that’s what started it all, didn’t it?”

~The night before~ Rick began banging out a tune on his drum kit in the house with you, Sav, and Steve sitting close by, them being at the ready with their guitars. “You ready, Steve?” you mimicked the original lyrics. “Uh-huh,” he replied exactly like Steve Priest in the original song. “Savy?” you said next. “Yeah,” Sav bopped his head to the beat. “Rick?” “Okay.” “Alright, fellas,” you called out, “Let’s go!” The two guitarists let their instruments ring out around the house, playing the all-too-familar tune. As soon as they started this, the front door opened, and none other than Phil and Joe walked in. Joe was holding a bag that was weighed down by the mass inside it (a painfully obvious sign that there were a few bottles of booze). Although the two of them weren’t talking, they were physically hushed upon hearing the situation you and the others had created. “Oh life’s been getting so hard, living with the things you do to me…” you sang lowly and quietly along with the music being made, just to make sure the musicians knew their places. You noticed Phil run out of the room in excitement, and into the one where he keeps his guitars. Joe, on the other hand, stayed put and watched the rest of you from afar, fighting a smile. “My dreams are getting so strange, I’d like to tell you everything I see…” You stood up, and Joe began walking towards you when you called out the next line of the song, “Oh- I see a man in the back, as a matter of fact, his eyes are as red as a sun!” Joe chimed in without warning at the next line, putting an arm on your shoulder and pointing at you, “And the girl in the corner, let no one ignore her, ‘cos she thinks she’s the passionate one!” *** “It’s, it’s a ballroom blitz, it's, it's a ballroom blitz,” Phil sang the ending teasingly to you when he put his guitar back. It felt like he was rubbing his energy in your face (since you lacked it). Before Phil could continue, Joe suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Yeah! It’s a ballroom blitz!” he announced, throwing his arms into the air and taking a bow. He sounded a bit tipsy still. Joe was wearing his Union Jack shorts, but no shirt. Instead of a shirt, though, he had the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” sloppily painted across his chest in blue and green paint. Right over his nipples there were also two handprints, almost exactly matching the ones on your face. Joe stumbled in the doorway, falling to his knees and groaning in discomfort, “Ohh... probably should’ve stayed in bed.” Phil sluggishly trekked over to the singer and pulled him partially to his feet, yanking him towards the couch, “Oh yeah? And by ‘bed’, you mean-?” “Definitely not the bathtub.” Joe assured him, but winked at you. “No matter where you slept, it’s still not as bad as where she slept,” Phil pointed at you, “And what she did there.” “Why? What’d you do?” Joe’s tipsiness wore away in his sentence, making him sound genuinely concerned and curious. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what Phil was going to say, “Phil, I-” “It’s not what she did, it’s who she did- she shagged Steve in my bed!” the guitarist accused you again while pointing a finger. Immediately Joe exclaimed, “Nice!” and held up a hand to high-five you. “Joe!” you scolded him, surprised that he took this as good news. “Oh-uh, not… nice?” he took away the offer of a high-five and scratched the back of his head awkwardly instead, “Also, is that my shirt?” You took a look down at the Union Jack tank top you were wearing and back at Joe’s torso. Then something clicked in your head. “Ohh…” you continued staring at Joe’s chest, feeling yourself blush as old memories unraveled in your head, “I think... I think I remember something else that happened last night.” *** You were all drunk; it was no lie. After your quick jam session, there was a booze-filled music fest going on in the house. Joe had even put on his Union Jack outfit, pretending he was getting ready for a show. At one particular point of this “festival” you'd all created, records were being played, and you ended up dancing in front of Joe to REO Speedwagon’s “Take It On the Run”. “You’re bringing up your white lines, you’re pullin’ on a bedroom eyes, you say you’re going home, but I won’t say when,” you sang the wrong lyrics as you swayed and drunkingly made flirty faces at Joe on the couch. Sav, meanwhile, was playing with some old craft paint off in the corner. The blue and green substances were all over his hands (but somehow, one color managed to stay on each hand). “Yeah, you dance for him, Y/N!” Rick cheered you on from the kitchen as Steve and Phil sat on the couch. Phil was perfectly sober, and Steve was giggling and laying with his head on Phil’s lap. You, on the other hand, were now moving closer to the singer, almost like you were giving him a lap dance. “You take it on the run, baby,” you sang along, slowly taking Joe’s Union Jack tank top off of him (with no objections from below), “If that’s the way you wanna, baby...” In return to Joe being shirtless, you slowly took off your own shirt (triggering wolf-whistles and cheers from the guys) to replace it with Joe’s tank. “Sav, mark him up!” you ordered the painted bassist in the corner as you tried to dress yourself. He happily made his way over to you and questioned, “What should I mark him with?” A single hazy idea came to you, and you eagerly whispered it into Sav’s ear. He giggled in response, and proceeded to move over to Joe, drawing something on his chest in the paint. To keep Joe from looking at what it was, you went behind the chair and covered his eyes, ordering coyly, “No peeking!” “All done!” Sav announced and retreated back to whatever he was doing in the corner. “Now, wait, Sav!” you sped over to him, lifted his hands up, and double high-fived him, getting the paint on your hands as well. To finish off what Sav had started, you ran back over to Joe on the chair, and slapped your hands on his chest, right over his nipples. Laughter erupted from everyone in the room (including Joe) and you repeated Sav’s words. “All done!” Joe gazed down at the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” on his chest as you continued to dance to the song playing. “You’re mine, now! You take it on the run, baby... if that’s the way you want it, baby...” Joe tried to tell you in a sexy voice, “Am I your baby now?” “If that’s the way you want it baby,” you repeated the words from the song to him, “Now I’m done dancing for you! Somebody dance for me!” Steve began pointing at everyone individually, childishly suggesting, “It should be, eenie, meenie, miney, Phil!” “Why me?” Phil laughed in objection as you took a seat across the room. “Because you’re not wasted,” his terror twin argued, poking him on the nose. The sober guitarist looked over at you with happy anticipation, awaiting a comment, while all you did was wiggle your fingers at him with a goofy grin. After that, you returned the gesture to the man on his lap, giving Steve a sexy wink. *** “Oh my god...” you put your head in your hands shamefully as Phil and Joe giggled at the memory of the previous night, “I can’t believe I did all that...” “That was a treat!” Phil laughed, hugging you from the side and pulling you closer to him in consolation, “It was funny! We never get to see that side of you!” “There’s a certain reason why you don’t...” you moaned with embarrassment, then asked out of guilty curiosity, “How many times did I grab your ass during that lap dance...?" Phil thought for a bit before telling you, “Four. Well- four and a half...” You gave a loud groan of protest as Joe laughed and slumped back into the couch. “Oh, you only did those things because you weren’t thinking!” Phil consoled you, swayed back and forth with you in his arms. Joe chimed in, “Yeah, and see what happens when you don’t think? You do! Most importantly, you do Steve!” “I didn't do Steve!” you shot your head up and yelled at Joe. You received only laughs and snorts from both men in reply. Suddenly, Sav appeared on the staircase and began singing “Squeeze Box” by The Who with a tired yet cheeky smirk, “Mama’s got a squeeze box she wears on her chest, and when Stephen comes home, he never gets no rest-” Joe and Phil joined into his song with, “Cos' she’s playin’ all night, and the music’s alright! Mama’s got a squeeze box, Stephen never sleeps at night!” You just put your head back in your hands, trying not to accept your fate of being teased. You didn’t want to think that you possibly shagged Steve. He always seemed so innocent to you in a way, and you feared that this would kill your friendship. If everything the boys said was true, you would never hear the end of it, and you don’t even know what Steve would think of you from now on. Was it possible that he remembered anything about the night before? “It didn’t happen, it didn’t happen...” you repeated to yourself in a whisper as Phil unwrapped his arms from you. Sav came all the way down the stairs; his body language making him look grumpy with the world, but his tired grin signaling that he was pleased with seeing you. “Oh, it happened, sunshine!” the frizzy-haired bassist laughed, but quickly regretted it and rubbed his head with his still-painted hands, “Ah- yep, it happened. You could probably hear you two up the whole damn street.” As Sav wearily joined you all on the couch, Joe complained, “Sounds like that was a treat; I wish I remembered it!” Phil was caught off guard at the comment. His head turned to Joe in the blink of an eye and gasped, “Wait, you don’t remember hearing them?!” “I wish I could say I do, but there’s nothing there,” Joe stood up after he spoke, and quickly held onto the wall nearby. His hand went over his stomach as he whined, “Oh... fuck, Y/N, why did you make me race you last night?" “'Race me'?” you squinted as you inquired, “Race you with what?” Joe didn’t answer, but slowly took steps into the kitchen, using the wall as his guide. His answer came when you, Sav, and Phil all heard him throw up into the sink. You sighed, resting your hands over your eyes, trying to remember the cause of Joe’s sickness, “Oh no, was that really my idea?” *** “Look what I found!” you trotted into the room tipsily, holding two bottles; one of scotch, one of vodka, “Only half full! Who wants em?” While you weren’t full-on drunk, it was no secret that the title wasn’t that far away. After your little Ballroom Blitz, it was one beer after the next, then it was digging into the fancy liquors that Phil and Joe had just brought home. Your judgment was impaired, no doubt about it, and so was the judgment of all the guys. Joe even changed into his normal live-show-only Union Jack tank top, claiming that he was gonna "put on a show." The only one who was still sane and sober was Phil, who seemed to be staying away from your poison. Upon registering your sacred offer of alcohol, Rick ran forward, chanting, “Me! Me!” You lifted the bottles away from him, commanding, “Uh-uh! I get the scotch.” “Oh, bollocks, then you can keep the vodka,” the young drummer grumbled and turned away from you. Just as Rick rejected your offering, Joe sprung up and eagerly trotted over while shouting happily, “I’ll take it!” “Sold!” you handed the bottle over to him, “Betcha can’t finish before me!” “Betcha I can!” he sneered back before taking the cap off his bottle. There was no official “ready, set, go” for the race; you both just kind of went for it without any saying. While your throat and stomach were already protesting your actions (and you could almost sense that Joe’s were doing the same), you didn’t stop once; neither of you did. You held up your bottle and announced, “Done!” Looking over, you saw Joe was also finished. “I finished first!” “Nuh-uh!” you insisted, “It had to be me! Tell him, guys!” The four others hadn’t been paying attention to you and Joe’s little competition; they were instead focused on a box that Sav had pulled out from a cupboard. From the box they pulled out bottles of paint and various types of used makeup.

Joe scolded them all in a more sober manner, “Oh come on, you lot weren’t even watching!” “Yeah, yeah, it was probably a tie, anyways,” Rick chuckled, pulling out more items from the box. “This box is much more interesting, too," Phil protested, holding up a stick of lipstick as Sav held up two bottles of paint, "This is a box of makeup that I had for me and the lads in Girl! Just look at it all! Think we can have some fun with this?" "Oh, piss off," you threw the empty bottle onto the couch, "We need some music." Joe had slumped down onto a chair, and you stumbled your way over to the shelf with all the records on it, flipping through and eyeing them all as carefully as your body would let you. After only a few seconds of searching, your eyes lit up at a discovery. "Here's a good one!" you exclaimed as you pulled out a copy of Hi Infidelityby REO Speedwagon, "Let's give it a spin!" ***

Joe wandered back into the room and fell onto the empty couch with a grumble. “Sorry, Joe...” you muttered over to him, realizing that you pressured him into more consumption of the booze. “It was probably gonna happen anyway...” he admitted, wiping his hands over his face, “It’s was my stupid choice to go through with it.” “Woah,” Phil pointed out out of nowhere, looking at you with great surprise, “What’s that on your neck?” You felt your heart drop into your stomach. “What!?” you shot up from where you sat (bringing on more dizziness), and rushed over to a mirror. Once your dizziness subsided, and you could finally see your reflection, the pink shape of a hickey on the side of your neck was now clearly conspicuous. You wondered how you hadn't noticed it before. Joe exclaimed with a smug and proud grin, “Is that from Steve!?” You groaned angrily, feeling yourself become more and more defeated. “I can’t believe it,” you gasped, slapping a hand over the mark, “Something did happen between us-!” “Y/N,” Phil pointed out again, “There’s lipstick on your thigh...” Looking down at your legs, you saw that he was right. There was a single red symbol on your right thigh that marked a kiss from the night before. Upon seeing this, what you saw when you woke up popped into your head. “Looks like Steve went to town down there,” Sav smirked at you, only wanting to rub it in more. “Guys,” you softly noted, “That wasn’t Steve... he has lipstick marks all over his face from someone else...” The three men all exchanged confused looks with each other. There was a dead end to the story of the previous night. None of them knew how to solve the mystery of the lipstick. Not even Phil, who was as good as sober 12 hours ago, didn’t have any input. Sav suddenly blurted out, “Wait a minute, I know what happened- I think...” No one said anything, but eagerly leaned forward, ready to hear the tale the bassist had to tell. “You lot remember how we found that box of old makeup last night?” he began, “Well, I walked into the bathroom with you afterwards, Y/N...” *** Rick looked at himself in the mirror in the bathroom, carefully applying the makeup to his lips, and being extra careful to not get it on the blazer he was wearing. The drummer put on his best suit just to see how it would look with the makeup he was putting on. He thought he was doing a good job for the most part; he didn’t look half bad at all! It was far easier than he expected it to be, and wondered if he was good enough to help you with your makeup at times. Thinking of you seemed to have made you appear in the doorway next to him. Both of your hands were still covered in paint. “Sink,” was all you commanded of the drummer. He moved without a word and you began to wash your hands. At the same instant, Sav appeared nearby. He grabbed the doorframe and began to swing from it, leaving conspicuous handprints afterwards. “Aren’t you gonna wash up, too?” Rick crossed his arms to sass him. “Nah, I want the colors, they’re makin’ me feel- colorful...” Sav grinned, walking over to you at the sink, requesting, “C’mere.” You looked up, only to have your face taken in Sav’s paint-covered hands. He softly giggled as you squared your vision in on him with a sneer. “Rude,” you teased, then went back to washing your hands; paint now all over your face. “What’s really rude,” Rick pulled back the shower curtain and taking a step into the tub, “Is you two interrupting my makeup time! Good night!” He sat himself down in the tub and laid himself down as if he was going to sleep.

Before he had the chance to catch some shut-eye, you marched over to the tub and objected, “Rick, if you’re gonna sleep, I want a goodnight kiss first.” Without another word, Rick sat up and planted a kiss on your thigh (since it was closest to him). There was now a bright red imprint of his lips on your leg. “Thank you.” you smiled down at him, “Now goodnight.” “Don’t leave the water on, you hear?” Sav nagged him, pointing a colored finger, “You’ll drown." Rick chuckled with his eyes closed, “I’ll drink myself out. I'm in a drinkin mood, anyways." “Oh yeah? You haven’t got a straw or anything,” the intoxicated bassist continued to argue with him. “Then don’t let me drown! Get one!" “I’ll get you one later. I’ll just-“ Sav burped, and continued, “I’ll write a note or something.” “Sounds good, mate,” Rick slumped further into the tub and pulled the curtain closed, “Now you gonna stay here all night?” “Actually,” you noted out loud to yourself, different alcoholic emotions boiling up inside you, “I wanna go downstairs- I just need to see Steve- like right now...!" You turned on your heels, speeding past Sav and flying back down the stairs. *** “So that explains the paint on my face, and the paper in the hallway, and the lipstick, but what happened after that?” you asked Sav, as you were now slumped on top of Phil’s arm again. “Beats me,” Sav ran his still-painted hands through his hair, “That’s all I’ve got.” “But wait, if you said that Rick fell asleep in the bathtub...” Phil began his sentence, only for you and the other two men to exchange knowing looks with each other. All four of you immediately sprung up and rushed (as much as you could) up the stairs and into the bathroom. Upon getting there, Phil flung back the shower curtain to reveal a partially awake Rick, dressed in a suit, and still wearing the lipstick from the night before. “Mornin’,” he groaned as he stretched, then winced, “Ah, fuck- sleeping in here wasn’t the best idea for me neck.” Sav looked back at the paint on the doorframe and asked the drummer, “So then why did you sleep in here?” “Oh,” Rick looked around the tub, stating as-a-matter-of-factly, “The porcelain keeps the suit from wrinkling. I guess drunk me was very careful last night.” “I’ll say,” Joe complemented, “The lipstick’s still holding up pretty well.” Phil halted the conversation, “Wait, so you were in here when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night?” Rick chuckled, “Yeah, and let me tell you, for a smaller guy, you’ve got a big bladder.” “Wait,” you slowly turned and pointed at Joe, “I thought you said you slept in the bathtub-?” He gave you a cocky smirk in return, “I told you, ‘definitely not the bathtub’...” Rick sleepily laughed and pointed at you, “Ha- Y/N, you look like Joe!” “Why, just because of the shirt?” you inquired, pointing at Joe’s tank top on you. “And the paint!” Rick corrected you, “I can’t believe you guys didn’t wash it off yet!” In a second, you felt a rush of worry upon realizing that Rick hadn’t said anything about you and Steve yet. It made you suddenly come to the possible conclusion that he may not know about it all. “Wait,” Phil snapped his fingers, “So you do remember some stuff from last night?” “Yeah, a bit, I think. Why?” “Philip Kenneth Collen, don’t you fucking dare....” you growled at him in an almost pleading manner, rubbing your temples and grinding your teeth. “What do you remember?” Phil asked him, not giving any sort of reaction to your begging. Rick thought for a few seconds, clearly as hungover as the rest of you. It didn’t take him long to list off some brief happenings he recalled. “Well, I remember us singing Sweet, there was a lap dance, I remember- uh, being denied a bottle of scotch, there was, uh... there was lipstick... and did I try to ice-skate on pieces of cardboard down the hall...?” “Is that why there’s cardboard all down the hallway?” you motioned towards the door. Rick gave you a big proud smile and a nod in response. “So...” Joe looked around, definitely looking eager, “What’s the last thing you remember before falling asleep?” Rick rested his head back on the tub again, thinking as hard as his hungover mind would let him. You hoped to every god there was that he didn’t say anything about Steve. “Just Phil comin’ in here and having a long piss, that’s all.” came the verdict. “You sure you didn’t hear-“ Phil anxiously began to ask him, but got a hand slapped over his mouth by you. “No!” you yelled on impulse, sending more daggers through your burned-out head. All eyes were now on you, and silence fell. For a few tense seconds, you stared into Phil’s eyes, sending him visual messages of both threats and desperate requests. “...what the hell happened last night?” Rick broke the silence in a tone of utter confusion, knowing that something more serious than what he remembered had taken place. You pulled your hand back from Phil’s face, “Yuck, Phil, come on!” “You licked her hand, didn’t you?” asked Sav. “Yes,” Phil confirmed, and continued without missing a beat, “And I’m glad you asked that, Rick, cos' I know what happened after Y/N and Sav paid you a visit last night.” “Phil, if you love me in any way, shape, or form, you will not tell Rick what happened,” you begged to him as you began to walk out the bathroom door, heading back downstairs to wallow in more of your shameful hangover, “I refuse to believe it happened until there’s hard proof.” “Well what more proof do you want? A positive pregnancy test?” Phil shrugged, but suddenly slapped his own hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just said. You shot him an angry look. You were too tired to have it out with him, so you stumbled away. Right about now, you were ready to give up and accept the fact that you probably did shag Steve. Phil turned to Rick, gaping, and slowly began to speak again, "Right... so last night, after those two were in here, I think that’s when they came back downstairs..." *** "So why are you tying up my hair again?" a drunk Steve asked Phil, who was happily putting his hair into pigtails. "Because I knew you’d look pretty, and I knew you wouldn't object, either," the other guitarist laughed evilly as he finished tying the second bundle of golden locks together, "There, you're all done now." "Cool... I think," Steve tilted his head, staring at himself in the mirror on the wall as footsteps began pounding their way down the stairs. "I think you look pretty, Steve. Pretty, pretty, pretty," Joe giggled as he was flipped off by the pig-tailed guitarist. As this happened, you trampled the stairs in your descent, calling out, “Steve- Steve! Come here!” More than happy to be ripped away from Phil’s pigtailed plans, he let you run up to him as you belted out, “I’ve got an idea...!” He didn’t say anything, but he did let you whisper something in his ear. The second he heard your idea, his eyes lit up and an evil smirk crossed his face. Steve was always in the mood for causing terror. You pulled back and exchanged the same look of understanding with the guitarist. He stared at you with a sort of appreciation, and without another word, swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal style now. With a quick smooch to your lips, he began carrying you up the stairs as you giggled with some sort of glee. Phil’s jaw dropped, looking at Joe with astonishment in the process. The singer’s face mirrored the exact same expression. “I should’ve bloody known...” Phil gasped in astonishment, “She’s been eyeing him up real funny all night... I can’t fucking believe it!” Sav came down the stairs slowly, his life depending on the railing as he dragged his hand on it. He left a long streak of blue paint as he did so. “What’s gotten into their pants?” “Each other, apparently,” Joe scoffed, taking a sip of a beer he found, “Lord knows how the hell that happened.” *** You were all sitting back on the couches in the living room, all seemingly regretting the night before (you knew you most certainly were). Everyone knew that the end of Phil’s story was the true ending of the night. Now there was really a dead end to the whole tale. “I can’t believe it,” you whispered with sorrowful acceptance, “Me and Steve...? What happened next?” Joe scoffed, “Well that’s kind of a stupid question.” “That’s where it ends, Y/N. I went up to bed afterwards, only to hear-“ Phil cleared his throat to impersonate you and Steve, “‘Oh, Steve! Yes!’ coming from my room! So after an immense helping of disapproval, I slept in Rick’s room.” “No, no, that can’t be it!” you insisted, “Guys, what really happened next?” “Can’t say,” Joe mumbled, holding his head. “Sorry, mate,” Rick apologized. Sav remained silent, but looked apologetic. “That can’t be where it ends...!” you persisted, “Sav? Tell me I’m right!” Sav rolled in his lips, and darted his eyes away from you. You continued to stare at him suspiciously, but no one else thought anything of it. Phil tried to finalize your fate sympathetically, “Give it up, Y/N, at least it’s all over now.” “But it still happened! What am I gonna say to Steve when he wakes up? You know what- no. It didn’t happen, I refuse to believe that it did.” “How much more proof do you want?” Rick shrugged, pointing at Phil and Sav, trying to make you face the terrible truth, “They both heard ya, and Steve even gave you a hickey.” You hung your head, thinking you might just decide to cry out of shame. Yes, you loved Steve, just as you loved anyone else in the band, but you never had (or planned to have) any sort of sexual relationship with them. Even if you ever did, you were afraid it would ruin everything your friendship had stood for. “Sav, what’s wrong, mate?” Joe asked out of the blue. The bassist in question was still avoiding the conversation, staying eerily silent and weaving his hands together. At this point, you noticed that he was also blushing. “That wasn’t Steve.” he stated bluntly, still not looking at you. “What wasn’t Steve?” you asked as you stared at him dead on, your heart now pounding. “That hickey... that wasn’t Steve,” he paused, “That was me.” Immediately you gasped and slapped a hand over the mark on your neck. “What?!” the other three exclaimed. Joe and Rick immediately hissed at the searing pain their outbursts caused. “Sav, what the hell?!” you scolded him, finally happy that you weren’t the only one being called out for their mistakes. “Now before you say anything else,” he finally looked at you and held up a hand, “It was your idea.” Your face fell, softly asking him, “What do you mean?” “Well, after you and Steve-you know- and only Joe and I were downstairs, you actually came back down, too- wipe that smug look off your face, Joe. You’re not entirely innocent here, either.” *** You stumbled down the stairs, giggling to yourself. Your mission was now accomplished, and Steve was asleep upstairs. In a word, you were pleased. In two words, you were still drunk. Records were still being played when you returned to the living room, and Joe currently had his copy of Sheer Heart Attack on the turntable. “She Makes Me (Stormtrooper In Stilettos)”flowed softly from its speakers. “There’s our killer queen!” Joe cooed to you happily. He was now sprawled out on the couch, two empty beer bottles on the floor beside him. Sav wasn’t too far off. The paints on his hands were now dry, and he was reclined in a chair across the room, twiddling a bottle in his hand. They both looked ready for bed, and it made you wonder how they held out for this long. The singer slurred on with an interested smirk, “You two have fun?" Sav spoke up with a scoff-like laugh, “Sure sounded like it!" “Oh, you know it,” you gave them a wink, setting yourself down on the couch next to Joe, “Guess Phil finally ditched, huh?” “Yeah, the wanker went to bed- but you’ve lost your pants!” he gestured to your black underwear, made room for you to lay down with him, and took you in his arms like a teddy bear with a sigh of appeasement. You reached back and playfully poked at Joe’s dimple, “Steve's fault." “Well, that’s no good,” Sav objected, pushing the footrest of the chair in and returning to a sitting position. “What isn’t?” Joe asked him, "Steve gettin' into it with her?" “No, that cuddlin' you're doing- it’s boring. You stay like that, you’ll fall asleep on me!” He was certainly right about this. With you in Joe’s arms and his face nuzzling into your hair like some sort of animal, he was already falling asleep. “What do you want us to do?” you chuckled, thinking that Sav was only jealous of his friend. Joe mumbled happily into your hair, “How 'bout you just do me like Steve, and we’ll be good.” At this point, you noticed the feeling of something pressing lightly against the bottom of your back; a certain weight where Joe’s hips were, and a weight that wasn’t there at first. “Joe,” you whined at him, “You’re fucking gross.” He chuckled, then slowly moved his hips to lightly rub himself against you, a low quiet moan rising in his throat from the temporary pleasure it provided. “Ah- Joe!” you protested again, reaching back and hitting him as best as you could. You wiggled out of his embrace as he burst into giggles like he had just accomplished something. Sav, on the other hand, cringed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re even hornier than when you’re sober!” you grabbed a pillow and whacked Joe with it. “You’re one to talk! You just shagged Steve!” he smirked evilly, "Why not me?" “Ha! The only way I’ll do you is by some miracle, or at least a dare,” you threw yourself onto the other couch, picking up a nearly empty beer bottle and pouring whatever was left into your mouth. Sav’s eyes finally lit up, “That’s what we oughta do- truth or dare!” “Ooh, sounds like terrible fun,” you turned yourself so you were sitting upside-down on the couch, “Sav, truth or dare?” “How come he gets to go first?” asked Joe, “I wanna get down to business!” “Dare,” Sav declared, ignoring the singer’s objections. Immediately, your intoxicated mind thought of a scheme. Despite the plan you and Steve had executed ever so perfectly, you were still a child seeking more terror. You knew Joe wanted you, and it was no secret either, so how exactly would you use Sav to reign terror over him? You wanted something to rub in Joe’s face- something that would leave a mark on him. “I dare you to-" you clumsily pointed to your neck, "Gimme a hickey.” Joe's jaw dropped with offense and jealousy; exactly as you had expected. Sav began to laugh rather loudly at the request, and stood up, now understanding your true intention of making Joe jealous. “C’mere,” he motioned with his hand. More than happy to obey the command, you strutted over to him and paused, waiting for him to make the first move. He took a step so your bodies were practically pressing together, moved your hair out of the way on your neck, and dove right in. You smiled with glee, taking in the feeling of Sav’s mouth and tongue moving over your skin (as well as Joe’s groans of protest coming from a few feet away). As the bassist sucked on your neck without hesitation, it only made you think of one thing: “Wow, there’s definitely gonna be a mark after this.” *** Rick and Phil were staring at Sav with their mouths open in shock. You kept a hand over the mark he left on your neck to prevent everyone from looking any more than they already had. “So, wait, if it was you who gave me this, why didn’t you say anything before when we said it was Steve?” you asked Sav, more suspicious than outraged now. “I- ah, didn’t... wanna say anything...” he looked away, beginning to blush again, “I guess I was too embarrassed." “I think the only person who should be embarrassed is you, Joe,” Rick turned his attention back to the singer, “You fuckin dry humped her!” Joe exclaimed in his own defense, “Yeah, and I don’t even remember it! It’s not my fault- I was drunk and horny!” “See! Just like me and Steve! I don’t remember shagging him, either! So I guess we’re even.” “Even Stephen,” Phil scoffed. You slumped into the couch more, staring blankly ahead and realizing, “So I pretty much got to second base with all of you last night...?” “I think you made it all the way home with Steve,” Rick pointed out. “Thanks, Rick,” you kept your head hung, “I feel like a slut.” “You mean you’re not?” Phil joked, only to be hit in the arm by Sav.

Just then, you all heard the sound of movement upstairs. Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold; Steve was awake now. Everyone's jaws hit the floor, and for a second, you thought they were all afraid of what you were fearing. "He's awake..." Rick announced in a sing-song voice, teasing you. “Oh no...” you gasped quietly, “Oh no, oh no! Oh god, what am I gonna do? What am I gonna say to him?!” “Hate to break it to ya, but this isn’t necessarily our problem!” Joe shrugged in a panic, hearing Steve’s footsteps get closer. “But guys! You’ve gotta help me! You’re his best friends! What should I say to him?!” “Just act like it didn’t happen! Maybe he doesn’t remember-?” Sav proposed. Rick suggested, “Just straight up ask him if he remembers anything!” “Just get out of here!” Phil made a swatting motion towards the other room. “None of those are gonna do me any good! It still happened!” you yelled at them in a whisper, “I have to live that with that fact, even if neither of us have any memory of it to live with!” It was too late for any salvation; Steve was already at the top of the stairs. The band members held their breath, and- without words or warning- all scrambled out of the living room. “No!” you whispered, “Guys- wait!” You caught Rick by the wrist when he stood up. “Rick, c’mon, please don’t leave me here!” you begged. He yanked out of your grip and apologetically condemned you, “Sorry, Y/N, but this is your business.” As the four of them retreated, you tried to bolt after them. As soon as you hit the doorway, however, Phil turned around and pushed you back on the couch nearby as slowly as he could. It was so sudden that you were on your back before you knew it, and they were all gone. “Hey!” you called out after them, “Assholes!” Steve’s voice suddenly came to your ears (rather closely, too), “What’s their problem?” You jumped, “Ah- Steve!” He had a silent step, and made it down the stairs and across the room without making a sound. He also looked just as he did a little while ago when you first woke up; scraggly hair, lipstick stains all over his face, but no visible evidence of a hangover. “Hey, wow,” you forced an awkward chuckle at him, “Nice- uh, nice- lipstick...” Steve slumped down onto a chair and grumbled, “Thanks. Who even did this to me? Doesn’t look like it was you.” “That was, that was Rick- I’m assuming... I don’t remember that happening and I don’t think he does, either. He’s still got the lipstick on, too.” He played off the remark with a tired smile, “Oh, nice... last night really was something, wasn’t it?” Heat rushed to your face, and you tried to look away without being conspicuous. “Ha ha... yeah... really something!” you faked your amusement for him, now wondering if he was implying anything about the previous night. Steve leaned forward and asked, “Do you remember Sav and the paint? That was pretty funny, wasn’t it?” Still blushing, you darted your eyes around the room and nodded in agreement, “Mm hmm, yeah... he was like a toddler or something.” He sunk back into the chair again and closed his eyes, reminiscing about the events of the previous night. For a second you thought you were in the clear, and that maybe he didn’t remember the specific event that Phil and Sav did.

That illusion was shattered when his eyes snapped open, whispering “Wait a minute”, and sitting back up. Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach.

“How did our plan go?” he questioned quietly, figuring that the others were still somewhere nearby and listening. “P-plan?” you stuttered, partially afraid of what he meant, but partially caught off guard, “What plan?” “You know-” he whispered again, thinking you remembered, “It was your idea. Did they believe it? We were convincing enough?" You darted your eyes down to the floor, confused, but also embarrassed. 'Convincing'? What did that mean? "Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t remember!” he smiled playfully. As you stared at him with fearful confusion in your eyes and redness on your cheeks, his smile was suddenly wiped away. He muttered under his breath as his face fell, "Oh... you don't remember... bloody hell, okay, this is gonna be hard to explain..." "Then explain it, because I'm really fucking confused..." your voice wavered with a sarcastic chuckle. Steve sighed and leaned forward, slowly weaving his hands together. He didn't know where to begin. "This is one of the few things I remember from last night..." he started off, "And there's no way to make this sound... good... in any way, but you came up with the idea of us pretending to shag- like making noises and shit like that- to trick the others into thinking we really did. For some reason I thought it was a great idea, and I'm pretty sure I carried you upstairs, too.” Instantly, a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. It wasn't real; you didn't shag Steve, and he could even tell the guys himself! You blew out a big sigh of relief, and slumped back into the couch, closing your eyes. "Oh, god," you slowly panted, "What a huge relief- I suppose we were really convincing, then." "Why d'you say that?" You laughed tiredly, now feeling rather thankful for your raging hangover, "The guys are all convinced that we fucked last night. Only Phil and Sav seem to remember it, though. They've been hounding me about it all morning. I kept telling them it couldn't be true- and I was right!" "What, would it be so bad if we actually did?" he teased you in a hushed voice. "Well, I've had to live my day so far under the impression it did happen. I was teased, ridiculed, embarrassed, and felt guilty about it. I was afraid it'd ruin our friendship if it was true... I was kinda hoping you didn't remember so we could just forget..." The red in your face returned all over again. Steve, however, didn't seem bothered. "If you really want to, we can keep pretending it happened and steer into the act; give em' what they want." "What? No!" you laughed out loud, standing up, "You're crazy, Clark! I think I better go tell the others the bad news. They'll be disappointed-ha!" You walked across the room to go find the others and disclose unto them the "bad news", giving Steve a pat on the shoulder when you passed him. Once you were gone and out of sight, Steve also blew out a big sigh of relief. "She didn't remember anything," he thought to himself, "That was a close one." While he knew you two didn't go all the way the previous night, he figured if you didn't remember it, then it was for the best you didn't find out. It was nothing serious; just a bit of fooling around, really. Just a bit of drunked-up teasing, and nothing more. The guys had no proof that anything actually happened between you two, and you were about to tell them the partial truth anyway, so why say something to reignite the suspicion? After all, they were all hungover to begin with, so there wasn't much memory of the whole affair, either. "Thank god for these hangovers,"Steve thought, "Thank god. I couldnt've asked for anything more." ~Epilogue~ When you got to the top of the stairs, Steve put you on your feet and spun you around. "You ready?" he whispered, childish excitement in his voice. You nodded with equal excitement, "Take me away, Clark." The two of you began eagerly walking hand-in-hand to whatever room you pleased, but before either of you had the chance to pick one, the bathroom door opened, Rick popped his head out and commanded, "Stop right there!" Both you and Steve froze and looked at him. He still had his lipstick and his suit on, and a kind of serious look overtaking his face. A finger was kept in a pointing position at you, a few large pieces of cardboard were underneath his other arm, and he slowly took steps down the hall to meet you. Neither of you moved, but both of you waited. When Rick got to you, he didn't say a word, but did take Steve's face in his hands (dropping the cardboard in the process), and proceeded to the kiss the man all over his face.

Steve remained silent, and let Rick have his way until he decided to stop. When he did, there were several lipstick stains on various parts of the blonde's face.

"Thanks, mate," Steve muttered sarcastically as Rick kicked some of the cardboard pieces in different directions. He then stepped on two of them, trying to slide down the hall on them as if they were ice skates. When he got back to the bathroom, he went back inside and shut the door again.

Without another word, you turned Steve's face toward you, gave him a peck on the cheek as Rick had done, and kicked open the door behind you (which just so happened to be Phil's bedroom). You both fell back into the room, giggling with makeshift lust in your eyes.

After all, you had to make this authentic, right?

RM: “I hope I’m on my way somewhere”

There are two gears in his life that RM shifts between: when he has to pick up speed as the leader of a worldwide hit-making group, and when he makes his way back home and slowly cracks open some artist’s catalogue. Let’s take a look at the time in between, at the young artist’s journey to seek out his own canvas.

Do you still work out? Your stature looks very different. RM: It’s been around one year? Since I started doing it four times a week without fail. It’s like my lifeline. (laughs) Since, if you exercise, your body gradually improves. I like to feel like I’m doing something and getting better. If you look at other people posting their progress, you can see their bodies change dramatically, but I’m not very strict about my diet, so it’s not like that for me. (laughs) Still, I can feel my frame changing bit by bit.

I saw in the “ARMY Corner Store” video uploaded to YouTube for the 2021 FESTA celebration of your eighth anniversary that your life is focused on doing work and making appearances these days. Has following that repetitive routine led to any changes in your life? RM: My daily routine has become very clear-cut. Now that it’s been exactly a year since I started doing this mid-last year, I kind of think, So is this how people live? I have to go to work and come home, then there’s things I need to do there, and things I have to keep up with like exercise. And same for checking out exhibits. And so I thought my nature itself has changed a lot over the course of a year, but I don’t know whether it’s good for me as a creator.

Why’s that? RM: There was so much that happened with BTS, but with the current situation, sometimes it felt like those things were just things happening on my phone. When I’m listening to other music or watching something I’ll sometimes think about how I would do it, but my life is what it is right now, so I can only draw on things from my own life.

In that case, how did it feel to keep up the energy for your Grammys performance and for everything related to “Butter”? RM: I was really happy that we added one more thing to our list of accomplishments. I think our team really needed the work itself. It made me realize we still have things left to achieve. And I want to thank ARMY above all others for making all of this possible. I’m Korean, so I’m no stranger to finding joy in accomplishment. (laughs) It was really satisfying and nice. It would’ve been better if we got a Grammy, but so what if we didn’t? In the end, getting it means you have one more trophy at home, and after that your daily routine repeats.

How was writing the lyrics for “Butter”? Your performance with SUGA works to kick the energy of the second half of the song up a notch, but I also think, strikes a balance to improve the song as a whole. Your short rap feels like a fusion of American pop and BTS’s distinctive style. RM: That’s the part I spent the most time on. Even though the song’s in English, I thought we should make it feel like our own, so we kept the original but put a little of our own flavor in at the end.

I felt that fine-tuning turned out well. It’s short, but I think it would’ve been a very different song without that part. RM: It’d feel like something’s missing if it weren’t there, right? (laughs) I felt like we absolutely had to have it in there. There’s something different about us from American pop stars. Our DNA is different.

How was making “Permission to Dance”? You can count on one hand how many BTS songs have a message as positive as in that song. RM: Right. They talked about putting some rap in “Permission to Dance” while we were working on it, but we said it would never work. I have more fun when I’m singing and dancing than anything else. I think this song was one of the few times that I felt like I was just having fun while singing and dancing on it. It feels amazing to give into the song with your whole body and just laugh instead of thinking about it too much. I think that’s the power of the song. I wasn’t stressed preparing for it like I was with “Butter.” When it came to “Butter,” I had to think about what we should show off and how I could do that. I’m always careful not to be a problem within the group dynamic. But I didn’t really have to worry about that with “Permission to Dance.” Honestly, I felt like I only needed to add just a dash of the enjoyment I felt.

After the unimaginable continued success of “Dynamite” and “Butter,” this song feels a little more laid back. RM: Oh, this is really fun. Just like that. And there’s a line in the lyrics that says, “We don’t need to worry / ’Cause when we fall we know how to land.” The message is universal, but you could say it’s also something BTS has been saying all along.

You talked about “2! 3!” on “ARMY’s Corner Store,” saying, “2015 to 2017 was a tough time for us and our fans.” Were you able to say that because you ended up knowing how to “land”? RM: What I do can be thought of as a sort of business—a person-to-person kind of business. That’s why I want to be as honest with ARMY as I can be, almost obsessively so. They say it can’t happen in the world of K-pop, and there’s an aspect of good faith to that because I don’t want to worry the fans, but I want to tell them about the things we’ve been through as much as I can. Another reason I talked about those times was that I wanted to pay off my debts to a lot of people. To pass over this story like it never happened would be like saying “that’s not us.” And because it’s in the past. I think that, since it’s in the past, and since we’re doing all right now, and since those days were clearly necessary, I think we have to be able to talk about just how difficult a time that was.

It feels like that was something you wanted to convey to your fans, too. RM: Sometimes we’re artists whose souls are full to our very cores, sometimes we’re meticulous office workers, and sometimes we’re part of the hyper-patriotic “do-you-know club.” We’re many things all at once—that’s why we talked about persona and ego. It’s sort of painful and lonely to want to talk about these things to this extent, but I guess that’s who I am. I want to express myself in full.

Would you say that the song “Bicycle,” released during 2021 FESTA, shows who you are as a person? You talked about your everyday emotions using a bicycle as a metaphor. RM: I’ve faced a lot of pressure while making music throughout my life to move ahead a little more or make music that stands out better, from minor things like my rap technique to bigger things like trends. I wanted to be good at rapping and I wanted some recognition. In that sense, you could say “Bicycle” is somewhat defiant. I wanted to release a song to celebrate FESTA, but the subject matter is really important to me specifically. Bicycles hold an important place in my heart, so that’s just what I ended up writing about. The song’s something like a compass, telling me where I’m at right now, I feel like. My present-day life is the input, so that was going to end up being the output one way or another.

There’s a part in the lyrics where you say, “When you’re happy, it makes you sad.” I imagined you riding your bike and contemplating your life. RM: My feelings kind of go to extremes whenever I ride my bike. My personality used to run to both extremes sometimes, but it also comes back to me again on its own when I ride a bike. When I ride my bike, I’m free from the pressure of the things I’m supposed to feel and think about. I don’t care if people recognize me, and that’s the closest I get to feeling free, mentally and physically—when I’m riding fast and feeling like I’m up on a cloud.

In my case, there’s a big bookstore in my neighborhood, and there’s times when I’ll walk all the way there by myself and think over what kind of person I am while choosing which books to buy. Somehow it makes me think of that. RM: I read a book by Lee Seok Won from Sister’s Barbershop recently. He was contemplating why he likes bookstores. He remembered how not only is it noisy, but everybody’s staring at their books and not looking at anyone else, and there’s a kind of freedom in that. I really sympathize with that. So I make time to go to the bookstore and spend a little more time reading.

I end up talking to myself just by looking at all the book covers at the store. In a way, it’s contemplation on contemplation, but it seems to be an especially necessary time for you. RM: I think I’d be pretty bored without it, since I’ve been too sheltered lately. Read! Work out! Go to galleries! Ride my bike! (laughs)

So writing “Bicycle” was an experience that you had to go through anyways, even though we’re not sure where you’ve come from, where you’re at now, or where you’re headed to. RM: Exactly. It was exactly that kind of milestone of a song for me, and I think I kept that in mind to some degree when I released it for FESTA. I agreed to do something at first, but then I asked myself what I should do and that came to mind immediately: Let’s just do something about bikes.

Even the music has deep connections to all the music you’ve ever listened to, from folk to the hip hop and Korean indie scenes. RM: You’re right. I drew on music from the people who’ve had an impact on my life—artists I’ve been listening to lately, like Elliott Smith and Jeff Buckley, and groups like KIRINJI.

It’s interesting how the end result is a song whose style is difficult to attribute to any one era. Neither the sentiment nor the sound is retro, nor do they reflect current trends. RM: I, and our team, are, you could say, at the forefront of pop, so after I made “Bicycle” we wondered whether we should go with it. But that’s actually why I ended up doing it this way instead. Because that’s what my life looks like right now. It’s good for me just to get to know myself this way, but I don’t want to trap myself, either. On the other hand, I’m interested in artists from all around the world who are totally different from me. There’s even people who make music on a whim and who don’t care about the genre whose music I’m interested in now. It’s—how should I say this? Anyway, I’m at some place in my life, I guess. (laughs)

Last year, in an interview with Weverse Magazine, you said, “I’m just 27 in Korean age.” I think “Bicycle” might be your own response to that statement—the song of someone who grew up listening to Drake in Korea. RM: You got it. Exactly. Drake’s the one who made me think I could sing, too, back in 2009 (laughs) and that’s what brought me all the way here. In the past I wanted to do something just like Drake—he influences Western music as the musical style he’s after changes. But because I don’t live my life the way they do, I can’t make the exact same music as them.

And for that reason, I figured it’s the kind of song that would end up on the playlists of people like you, as it has a style that can express that sort of person’s overall feelings more than any specific genre can. RM: That’s how it usually turns out eventually. I sometimes think this way: Can’t I put “Bicycle” on the same mixtape as some songs that are made totally off the cuff, like I just talked about? I wish I had that kind of flare or image when I made songs, but nowadays I’m really slow at making them. I can’t think of lyrics as well as I used to, either. I have more avenues to absorb new things, and yet the output coming from inside of me is ridiculously limited, and extremely slow. They say there’s plenty of stories of artists from the past going up to their canvas and being unable to pick up their brush and screaming, “Who am I?” That’s sort of how I’m feeling. I’ve been working on a mixtape since 2019, but I haven’t finished that many songs.

Well, maybe it’s because the direction you want to take with your lyrics has changed. That is, that you’re trying to express the ideas you’ve built up inside yourself, instead of your experiences or social commentary. RM: That’s why I can’t write lyrics as fast as I used to. I don’t know what I’m doing, so I have no choice but to just write first. And that’s why I think Yoongi is such an amazing person. I mean, how does he make that many songs, and so well? Maybe it’s because he takes a producer’s point of view, but I can’t do that. Not only am I jealous, but I also think the starting point when I’m making music has to be the lyrics. I just—I hope I’m on my way somewhere. But that’s how I always feel (laughs) so when I listen to my stuff from two years ago now, it already sounds old.

You’re featured on eAeon’s “Don’t,” which boasts impressive lyrics as well—lyrics that start with the color of waves and end with an image of pebbles. It seem like it’s your interest in art that allows you to keep developing such visual images. RM: I can’t say for sure, but it’s likely a strong reflection. I had seen an article where an artist said that pebbles are the perfect form: a rock worn down over and over in a series of incidents and coincidences, made into some round shape in the end. It said the artist collected pebbles for a long time, saying pebbles are so perfectly smooth without any edges, although they’re neither perfect circles nor ovals. Also, I absolutely love Lee Qoede. I saw a quote in a book about his art: “Let’s become entangled. Let us stand united. Let’s not argue. And let’s become pebbles in the new leadership narrative of my country.” He wrote it in a letter while he was working during the country’s liberation period. I thought it was, what, a very modern way to express things, for someone who lived through the chaotic political circumstances of 1948 to want to become a pebble. I felt like his words still have meaning—like they live on. I guess those two artists’ use of the word “pebble” made a very lasting impression on me.

I was impressed how the relatively large waves give way to the image of small pebbles, and then you end the flow with lyrics like, “Don’t take that name away, the one only you know,” and “I hate being just any wildflower,” about a small presence that is defined by others. RM: Yes, it was fun. I once thought how people’s relationships are like crashing waves, and I think that mixed together with my thoughts about pebbles and it came out all at once. There’s a sentence I wrote down a long time ago while I was thinking by the sea. I thought, Is there any color in the waves? When people talk about waves crashing in, what waves are they talking about? The blue waves, or the white waves? I went completely overboard with emotion when I was thinking that (laughs) but again, that’s just me. So I wrote this one sentence—“I wonder what color the waves are”—and listened to the music eAeon gave me, and it sounded to me like fog rolling over the ocean. It was really easy to start writing the lyrics since the sensory perception of that sentence overlapped with what he gave me. It was a so-called “aha moment” (laughs) and whenever that happens, the lyrics come out of me all at once. It only took about an hour and a half to write the lyrics. I thought of more lyrics later on, but I ended up sticking with the first ones.

What are you looking for that you’re thinking that much? RM: In the end, it’s really important for me to ask about who I am, and I want to express who I found myself out to be, but I’m having a really difficult time because I don’t know if what I found is right. So for now, “Bicycle” is also the result of collecting the selves I found who I think represent the best of me. Even while making a song like “Bicycle,” I have to convey—how do I put this? It’s just about me, this kid from outside the big city—an essence that I can’t get rid of, I guess. I can’t let go of the kid who used to perform in Hongdae. It’s not really something I want to express or hold onto; it’s my essence, so I don’t really have a choice. (laughs)

You’ll just ride your bike, anyhow. RM: Exactly. Exactly that. (laughs)

© source

Ok, so I have seen almost every English version of Cinderella made since 1950 and it is my favorite fairy tale. So I saw the new Amazon version and I have a LOT OF THOUGHTS: (Spoilers)

I am here for Cinderella remakes, and I really hoped this one would enchant me. But...it didn't. I've read several reviews to help me specify just what didn't work for me, and I think it ultimately comes down to discord in nearly every element. Discord: too many notes at the same time; no unity, no connection. I'm all for pulling popular tunes, but they have to fit the character's emotion. I'm all for powerful female choreography, but having a chorus of women violently pelvic thrusting in ball gowns was...just weird. The artistic choices have to fit the narrative. 

All the women in the story are trying to assert some authority and agency in a world we are consistently told is exclusively patriarchal "because tradition." But it feels like that tone clashed with the producers' desire to include all the fairytale elements they felt audiences would expect. I think they could've done it, but they didn't get it right. It would be a fine line to tread, bc on the one hand you are talking about female disenfranchisement and lack of agency/rights, and on the other you’re trying to do fairytale love--the subject matter is really quite a heavy burden for that storyline.

 I've also seen comments that the cinematography and pacing were a mess, but I didn't get past my "do I like this?" vibe enough to notice. 

A few other assorted critiques: There was no chemistry between the prince and Ella, there was a lot of tell and not show (you can have a chorus sing it multiple times but I'm not gonna buy it unless you back it up with acting), and also the prince was not appealing in the least. Like, maybe that was the point, but if so, forget the romance plot altogether bc if I'm not falling for the guy, why would our heroine? There was more chemistry between the prince and his manservant (braid guy) than between Ella and him. There was nearly more depth of character in the manservant than in the prince as well, which is saying something.

One of the most annoying instances of tell and not show was Ella’s appearance. They kept talking about how dirty she was, and the stepmother even says “you would be so pretty if…” but the only real difference in Ella’s appearance is that she has a darker complexion… So what are we saying here, that she is unappealing bc she isn’t white enough? Admittedly that is reading into it a bit much, but just put some damn ash on her face and it’s a non-issue!

Moments of magic included the original songs (why did they not do the whole score this way???), and the performances from the sterling cast members as you'd expect. Also, I loved the building they chose for Ella's family estate/basement. (Oh, and also if you are going to turn the stepmother into Mrs. Bennett, then you have to show the financial difficulties in some wayyyy...) 

Overall, I could see what could've been a homerun concept in the script. I wanted to love it. I really did. But the execution fell woefully short for me.

**If I could, like Fab G, wave my wand and fix some things:**

-All original songs, not poorly fitting pop covers. The worst offenders in my eyes were “Material Girl,” “What A Man,” and “Find Me Somebody to Love.” The ball song should be about the princesses/stepsisters’

/Gwen/Ella’s aspirations, and maybe the prince’s too, if this fix version means he gets character development, like, say, a superobjective. 

-We open as before, with the narrator telling us how tradition has ruled everyone’s lives for years. As the townsfolk sing, we get the feeling that Ella isn’t the only one who is not so happy with the status quo. Ultimately everyone will learn through Ella that they don’t have to be struck in the same old ways. 

-As she works in the house we see Ella using her flair for fashion, her gift for making women feel beautiful to act a modiste/lady's maid to her stepmother and stepsisters. We see her transform an outfit/hairdo with a clever and fresh idea noone would have thought of. We get that speech about “it doesn’t matter if I think you’re beautiful. What matters is how you feel...etc.” Insert song about fashion and how amazing women are just in general, with makeover magic. (She didn’t feel like a fashion designer to me, I didn’t feel that creative spark/passion. I needed them to amp this up.)

-Ella’s personal appearance reflects her gift for inventive style as well.  (I really struggled with her being on one hand a fashion designer and on the other hand having no color in her dress, AND having everyone talk about how untidy her appearance was (which again, it wasn’t. Also, were she really covered in cinders and ash, she wouldn’t be able to handle fabric without making it dirty….)

-Ella’s dresses are made of found and reused materials, cleverly crafted. Like a set of old drapes a la Sound of Music, or forgotten antique dresses harvested for their fabric. After the prince buys her dress she can afford to buy new fabric and make her pink dress (that then gets ruined by Vivian.)

-If we *are* going to keep the idea of borrowed pop songs, then at some point all of the women sing No Doubt’s “I’m Just A Girl,” illustrating how their gender in this society makes them second class citizens: the stepsisters, Vivian, and princesses have to marry to gain opportunity/privilege, Gwen can’t get a word in on state matters, the queen is constantly shut down by her husband, etc. However, better for them to sing an original song that reflects this--maybe have “Dream Girl” come in earlier and get expanded/reprised.

-We needed to see the hardship that Vivian spoke of, bc I never saw it. Why remarry when you are clearly a wealthy widow?

-I still haven’t figured out how to give the prince a character that Ella could fall in love with. Show his kindness separate from supporting Ella? Give him an “I want” song that isn’t about his father wanting him to get married? Give him some kind of point? We’ve seen the “I don’t want to be king and am lost until this amazing girl inspired me” trope work before, but your boy has to have more to him than this guy did. 

-I also would like to find some way to extend the insta-love a bit. I’m a huge fan of meeting as commoners, as in the 1997 Cinderella, and there, they make a connection that properly works. Maybe it all boils down to a lack of chemistry between the actors? And/or give me better lyrics? Hmm. 

Anywho, I'm just rambling. So sad to see this fall so short of its potential.

‘Tis The Damn Season | Hamish Duke

Warnings; includes angst, implications of smut (not too detailed), breakup, heart ache, sacrifice, pain, and angst again

Based of ‘tis the damn season by Taylor Swift

If I wanted to know who you were hanging with 

Whilst I was gone, I would’ve asked you

Belgrave, home. For a while, you had thought that Hamish had served as that shelter, but the brick road broke, splitting the pair of you apart. It was as though the pair of you were ice, thawing over the time that the independent plan had been brewing.

This place, it was to be missed. It was a great step of a risk that you were to be taking, and so was the weighing of your heart. It felt as though it would be difficult to carry, it would remain with you, surely even after you crossed and exited the borders of the town.

Leaving overall, let alone him was to be exceedingly difficult, any attachment had to be released, like a bird from a cage. But birds in cages had routines, they’d be fed, and get affection, but this one wouldn’t. He’d just be abandoned, left to fend for himself.

The man that had been the only dream that had rendered your brain at night placed the guitar into the back of your car. He knew that it, what you had, was ending.

This was the end, and alternately not the one that Hamish had been expecting. If you were leaving university behind you, in the reflection of your rear view mirror, he would be left standing, alone and broken hearted.

It’s the kind of cold, fogs up the windshield glass

But I felt it when I passed you

“Goodbye Hamish.” It felt like a cruel lyric that would be used in a song, a line you’d harmonise on stage.

Getting into the drivers seat, you allowed yourself a first and last glance through the chilled glass, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill.

He was a good man, there were great things ahead of Hamish Duke. But none of that included you, this was his journey now, you had already made the choice of yours.

And this was the price of it, the freezing of your heart; the truest and purest love that you had ever felt. No matter, you had already paid it, and caused pain for both Hamish and yourself.

There’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me

But if it’s all the same to you

It’s the same to me

Turning the ignition on, you proceeded to drive past everything that you had ever known, all that you had love for.

The smallest distance seared a wrenching ache within your chest. It felt like a punishment for putting yourself first for once, it made you concerned, surely it shouldn’t have.

The car’s slow pace had Hamish biting his lip, containing any of his avid disagreements to this. He understood your priority, respected it even, but none of that made watching you leave any easier.

If anything, it gave him an urge to turn and head to a bar or something of the sort. But he remained, his heart sinking lower as you got further from his line of sight.

It shouldn’t have heart him as much as it did. It was common knowledge that first loves weren’t eternal. Time would only help him accept that cruel fact, or so he thought.

So we could call it even

You could call me “babe” for the weekend

Hamish’s body was under bliss, he had found his solace once more. He fit perfectly upon your nude form, it felt like his soul was rebuilding itself.

But he had to remember that you were only here for the weekend, you’d soon be gone again. And he would fall apart all over, just like the first time.

“Babe.” The blonde moaned, his hands intertwining with yours, he had missed more than just pleasure from your entanglements. He had beyond missed the entirety of your being.

The name that you were keen to lap from the tip of his theoretical tongue was a misplaced comfort. It shouldn’t however have the effect of such comfort, not when the pair of you were claiming to have been trying your hardest to move past what you had once been.

It was an old and tiring routine, that you were prone to returning to. The sinful actions were bad for each of your mental health, but it felt right to argue against it.

 The wisest decision would be to forget Hamish, and every notion he inclined you to feel, but it was too difficult, especially when he had you seeing orgasmic stars.

‘Tis the damn season, write this down

I’m staying at my parents’ house

“Aren’t you seeing any old friends from university this Christmas?” The question was poised by your mother, she was far too concerned by the fact that since your arrival you had hardly left the house.

It was even blurred by snow outside, not too much to the point where you’d have to be shovelling it from the porch, but it was enough. It was beautiful, perfect for this time in the season.

In fact, you loved the snow. But the memories that bombarded your mind from the wonderful weather had your mind rolling back to Hamish, specifically how blue his eyes appeared amongst the frosted surroundings.

The thought had you sniffling, holding in a post breakup breakdown from your mother’s eyes. She thought you were sick, demanding that you get something for ‘that runny nose of yours, it could be contagious’.

And the road looks real good now

And it always leads to you and my hometown

The exact second that you entered your car, your hands sternly hit the steering world. Were you not allowed to follow your career through the workings of the world without punishment?

Because it sure felt that way, as though you were being a rebel in a war, however the battlefield was that of your heart. It was tearing slowly, and had been over the entirety of your hopeful escapade.

It cried regularly to be united back with Hamish, to its rightful home. It was suffering from separation anxiety from him, clouding the gaps in your brain and making them think about the tall, handsome man alone.

And the road taken looks real good now

And it always leads to you and my hometown

Every time that you were in your car, it felt like you were leaving home all over again, and Hamish would be standing by, with his upset aura, trying his hardest to keep himself together.

It was the worst feeling, knowing that exiting town was essentially the same as stabbing him in the heart. There was no feeling worse than knowing that you had hurt Hamish, you still felt more than something for him.

Whenever you’d come by of a weekend, which was every couple of months, occasionally each few, you’d take the pill of seeing him. But not too long ago, you’d realised how cruel the self invitation really was.

He had been growing used to life without you, and then you’d reappear, lounging in his bed, only to rip away from him and cause a terrible ache in his heart when you’d return to your performing duties. It was unfair, so you refused this month to allow him to know that you were back, otherwise the painful pattern would only continue, and there’d never be an end to it.

I parked my car between the Methodist

And the school used to be ours

Belgrave university was right beside the pharmacy, it only made you feel actually sick. The memories from the school were returning, there were so many of them, it was as though they were trying to anchor you in the snow as you stepped out of your car.

Almost all of them included Hamish, he was the main attraction of the university anyways. But perhaps you had stood there reminiscing longer than you should have, because it seemed that you had drawn some unwanted attention.

Hamish. He was walking from the entrance, a sombre expression had been held upon his face until he saw you. And then his face was rivalled with hope and confusion, you hadn’t informed him that you were back yet.

He’d already expected you to be returning for the holidays, mostly for your family, however, you hadn’t told him, and from the wideness of your eyes, the realisation kicked into his instinct. You had had no intention to.

But he continued to walk towards you anyways, trying his best not to smile and coo at the adorableness of your red nose.

The holidays linger like bad perfume

You can run, but only so far

The thought of making a leg for it, sprinting as far away as possible, or getting back into your car and steering away certainly crossed your mind.

This interaction was certainly not a miracle of the season, it felt like a curse, ascending from hell itself. You hadn’t wanted to see him, but the universe had interfered and made a collaboration.

I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave

But if it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me

However every time you came and left, this building confrontation had been avoided, with you packing your suitcase for the umpteenth time, zipping each of your mouths shut and hearing nothing but the sound of the wheels rolling across the concrete of your family’s driveway.

Now, to contradict it all, the pair of you were stood upon even ground, it wasn’t outside of either of your homes, it was strangely the perfect place for this. And you found your dread slightly dissipating, aware that this was always going to happen, the road had just ended.

We could call it even

You could call me “babe” for the weekend

He was confused as to what to say or do. This was the first instance that he had seen you again in a place other than in his sheets, it was overwhelming.

“You haven’t been answering my messages.” His tone was calm, but in it, pain was presented, his sad blue eyes also justified that aspect of his aura. “Here for another weekend?”

It came across as less pleasant than he had anticipated, he was stressed to say the least. Something happened to him, it was out of the ordinary, he had wanted to speak to someone, and the first person that had came to his mind was you.

‘Tis the damn season, write this down

I’m staying at my parents’ house

Wringing your hands at the sound of his voice, it was visible that his presence made you nervous. That wasn’t what he wanted at all, he already scared himself after that sheathing of wolf fur wrapped itself around him and chose him as its vessel. His intent wasn’t to make you mirror his discomfort.

And so he uncrossed his arms, putting them into his trouser pockets and tried to look as relaxed as his exterior could fathom.

“I’m staying with my parents, it’s the holidays and all. Had to come home somewhen.”

And the road not taken looks real good now

Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

But you knew, that it was all to return to him. That was the universe’s plan for you, if you ever tried to get away, it’d only force you to reconnect once again. There was no escape, and a part of you was not complaining about that.

The other however was outrageous, nothing could ever be easy, it all drifted down shore from the plan, the ultimate dream. Using your voice to sing was the goal, however here you were instead, mentally cursing and dragging the name of the planet through the darkness inhabited in your neurons.

Now I’m missing your smile, hear me out

And the road not taken looks real good now

Right now, all you wished was to stay. His smile was inviting you to do, and so you stepped cautiously towards Hamish, hands going to his face and pressing the pads of your fingers to his cold cheeks.

Snow began to fall, but you could care less. It already felt like there was a blizzard forcing to search for shelter, and here it was, in the body of this one man. He was different from the rest, he was your road, the one you wanted to continue on, rather than drive away from.

And it always leads to you and my hometown

Sleep in half the day just for old times’ sake

His eyes shut at the contact, it was far more passionate than the times you had seen him during your occasional visits. Don’t get it mistaken, the sex was great, however it was a coping mechanism, rather than a true example of love.

There had been something missing, at first you assumed that it was the lack of labels between the two of you, however you proved yourself wrong after realising that it was the proximity that the pair of you had once had.

The loyalty, the trust, the knowledge that the two of you had traded. It had always been mutual, and so was this heartache, it wasn’t fair for the pair of you to be apart, yet still suffering from more than the distance.

I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay

So I’ll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends

There was one singular thing that Hamish desired to ask. However it’d be a two way street of cruelness if he allowed it to slip. But if he gave it permission to leave his mouth, then perhaps it would be a different story.

Everything could go back to normal, the way things had been. Except from him of course, he was forever changed, he was the house to a creature so unbelievable, yet proven real, that he could not just dispose of it. That would end in his death if he were to split from this monster within him.

But he would also die if he had to be distanced mentally from you any longer. He took one long stride of his leg, cupping the edges of your face, and clashed the two of your lips against his own. The contact was hungry, needing to swallow any last breaths that could possibly be breathed in each other’s presence.

If he had it his way, he wouldn’t break the unison against you, however he had to, otherwise he would surely have to catch your tired body, not that that would be the worst thing in the world.

“Stay, don’t go again.” It fell, permitting a moment of silence in the air. This required thought, but the answer could be sudden, if it were, then that would be the true response that he was seeking. It would be an instinct to remain here, with him, at your home.

Who’ll write books about me if I ever make it

And wonder about the only soul

It made a sigh tumble from the hollow of your throat, as though you were shocked by his defiance and desire. However you were not, the grand query was to come to pass sometime, it had been eventual, until now.

He had finally ripped the band aid from the soreness upon his beating chest, and done so to your own. He had opened the wound, allowing it to breathe in the surrounding air, making your own hitch as you thought of an appropriate reply.

It wasn’t professional to be so swayed by his proposition, however, what about all that you wanted to accomplish? The career you were pursuing, the town of Belgrave wouldn’t be so kind to permit you the reputation you were seeking. 

“I don’t know what to say.” The truth left your lips, the mind that was being stalled by all the possibilities, the two paths that were duelling for your footsteps, was suffering from total confliction. There was no easy answer, either way, you were to be giving something you loved up.

Who can tell which smiles I’m fakin’

And the heart I know I’m breakin’ is my own

“How about yes?” He was desperate to hear it, the confirmation that you would remain with him through the tough time that he was painfully living through. Your absence, albeit how it was completely your choice, did not help the situation. 

Hamish needed someone that not only he could rely on and trust, but would help him. Somebody whom could keep him in touch with his human side, and away from the likening to alcohol that he had picked up upon now that he was legal to purchase it himself.

“Okay. I’ll stay for a little, but no promises to it being permanent.” You had been swayed by not only his engorging blue eyes, but also the pain, the pleading that echoed behind them. He was desperate for you to remain with him, and you feared for his mental health if you didn’t compromise.

To leave the warmest bed I’ve ever know

We could call it even

Even though I’m leaving

The pin had dropped, the choice had been made. The sacrifice bled out from your heart, the same red as the sheets that were currently around you. Hamish stared up at the ceiling, his hand softly stroking the skin of your shoulder.

“It’s funny, every time that we spend the weekend together like this, I tell my mum that I’m seeing an old friend from school.” The sound of your voice pursed a smile to Hamish’s face, he huffed a small, almost wolfish laugh.

“That’s kind of the truth, if you think about it.” He pulled you closer, placing a slow yet short kiss upon your lips, to which you reciprocated. This had been the best choice that you could have made, for not only the man nestled in the bed beside you, but also yourself.

And I’ll be yours for the weekend

‘Tis the damn season

We could call it even

It was both a selfish and selfless call that you had taken. One that perhaps one day, you would kick yourself for making, but right now, you held no regret to it. Hamish had been your first love, and fate had it so that he would also be your last.

“My mum would be over the moon to know that I was with you rather than one of the girls that I took bio with.” She had forever been fond of Hamish, even before the two of you had became an item. Even your father had a likening to the young man. The pair would pleased that the two of you were still in communications.

“What are we now?” He asked seriously, he had reeled enough answers from you for one day, however it was another thing that he would have liked to know. He didn’t merely want you to be his only over the weekend, he wanted it to return to the way it all was, before your first departure, he’d ensure that you had already taken your last ticket out of town.

You could call me “babe” for the weekend

‘Tis the damn season, write this down

“Us, I suppose. The equals to one another, as we always were.” His dimples showed at the clarity that you provided. Until he felt a pain in his back, it cracked up through his spine as he felt it begin again.

The dreaded transition, the curse was sparking to life in the worst possible moment. He needed you to be away from him, if he harmed you, then that would surely kill him. He couldn’t have a mark from his own hand upon you, it would be against his will, but the blood would have still been drawn by himself.

I’m staying at my parents’ house

And the road not taken looks real good now

Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

Hamish’s sudden seating in bed had you frowning, your hand caressed his his shoulder, however he snarled at your touch, harshly shrugging you off from him. To say you were worried was an understatement, in the light of the afterglow, he had always been quiet and calm, but this was something you had never witnessed. 

If you believed in anything beyond this world, perhaps you’d have suspected he was possessed by something greatly evil and controlling. But they were all tales, fiction and fairy tales that were drawn into illusions and dreams.

“Are you okay?” He wasn’t, and if he didn’t get space from you, then you too would be suffering. And so he spat the only thing that he could think of to get you to spook, to run far away from him.

Now I’m missing your smile, hear me out

We could just ride around

And the road not taken looks real good now

“I’ve changed my mind. Leave!” It was as though he roared the words at you, and he had you in a haste to scramble for your clothes and leave his room. This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of it. But he knew that he had been too greedy, he couldn’t be alive with this horrible circumstance that was inside of him and have you. 

It may not have been fair, but it was the safest route. In the end, he had figured it out, you couldn’t help him with this. He didn’t want to tell you, he didn’t want you to know that he was a monster. 

You never believed in the supernatural anyways, and that was now for the best. It would make you safer, and more importantly, have faith that he was just a jerk, not some killer that hunted under the full moon.

And it always leads to you and my hometown

It always leads to you and my hometown

You had escaped from your hometown. But Hamish would always draw you back, one way or another...

Alpha! Izuku Midoriya x Omega! Reader (Ft.Omega! Ochako)

ANd I saId AhHaHHAHHA AHHHAHHA 

I SaID HeY WhaT’s GOiNg On~~~~

I’m as useless as the G in lasagna on this page I swear.

 I also swear I’m super sorry for the inactivity but I’ve been going on hardcore isolation for four weeks (FUcK TruDEaU HaS A CaCTUs DILdO In My AsS) and I’m losing motivation fast, but I’ll try to get some asks done as soon as possible!

Anyway-

I now present my first attempt at a fic on this page-

Warning! Cheating and alpha heart break. Poor IzUwU.

Heartbreak kid

He knew deep down that she wasn’t the omega for him. He knew it, his inner alpha knew it, hell, he was sure deep down, even she knew it. But something in them kept them together. Neither were sure as to what is was, but it raged like an angry forest fire in both of them, keeping them at each others side even if they knew that something- no, someone- was out there, just aching to be a better match. 

Izuku knew he didn’t want to keep this relationship going, but the girl -He’d say omega, but that would imply his alpha viewed her as such, when in reality,it barely saw her as a person- was adamant on keeping him within arms reach. But lately, it’s taken such a turn, not even the alpha was sure he could keep up. 

Her nest was no longer an acceptable zone, the male not even allowed within a fifteen feet radius of the nest of bed sheets and pillows, her purrs no longer rang throughout the room whenever he cuddled with her, hell, cuddling alone- something both alphas and omegas needed- was so rare, Izuku was shocked beyond words. 

“Are you okay?”

 The words broke his train of though as the sudden coldness of ink disappeared from his bicep. Bright (E/C) orbs peaked up at him, bangs of (H/C) intruding every so often before she brushed them away. Her scent was vanilla sweet and surrounded him so nicely, making purrs erupt from deep within his chest. Her own purrs echoed around him reciprocation, making his alpha yip in joy. 

“I guess. Just thinking...”

The (H/C)ette hummed, resuming her work on his bicep. Somehow the omega below him convinced him to allow her to draw and doodle all over his arm, using skin safe markers of course, acting therapeutic in a way to both of them. 

“About Uraraka?”

He nodded as his purrs immediately softened, nearly disappearing completely. The click of the marker cap shutting tightly rung through his ears but, he remained stoic, eyes tracing over line after line etching onto his arm. Beautiful orchids and leaves trailed up and down his upper arm, highlighting the muscles he worked so hard to get. She even went as far as incorporating the scars into part of the piece of work, making them look like veins trailing up and down the petals of a primrose- the centerpiece of the artwork. The peice was beautiful in every way, and if he could, he’d get it tattoo’d permanently. Hell, his inner alpha was debating buying a tattoo machine just so he could have it done permanently. 

The soft hand on his un-inked arm brought his attention full circle once more, his emerald orbs snapping forward to meet (E/C) ones. Her facial features were lax and calm, and made him smile.  Her mouth moved but he couldn’t hear the words coming out of her mouth. He was too busy watching her facial features, how her eyes shined with whatever she was saying, brows raising in the cutest way, he barely even saw her stop talking. 

“-Zuku? Izuku? Izuku!” 

The alpha shook his head at the sound of his name, quickly flushing red as she giggled, waving him off as he furiously apologized. When he shyly asked her to repeat himself she did so with little hesitation. Thinking back, if he had done the same to his now girlfriend, she’d snap at him.

“I was saying that maybe you and Uraraka should have a movie night tonight. Maybe some time alone would do you both some good. I could help you set up!” Your smile was bright and it made Izuku’s inner alpha whimper at the thought of him and Uraraka alone. He wanted to have movie night with you. Laughing with you as you flawlessly recited lyric after lyric, holding you when the climax of the movie would hit and you would inevitably feel sympathetic for the main character, carrying you to bed after you fell asleep during the credits, cuddling with you until day break. All of these things were things he wanted to do with you. Not her. 

Nodding, he followed you into the dorms (Both of you sitting on the outside porch for some fresh air), thinking back onto his relationship with the brunette. She had asked him to scent something for her about two months back, and he was overjoyed. His inner alpha couldn’t care less, as he had already seen you as his omega, but Izuku knew deep down he wouldn’t get that chance. You were gorgeous in every way and he adored you for your kind hearted attitude. He adored you. But that was a far away fantasy in his mind so he settled for Uraraka. 

In the first few days, his alpha completely ignored the omega, only recently coming around to even think about her as a suitable omega; and then it was if a flip was switched and they were all back at square one. But this wasn’t his alpha’s fault. Uraraka changed completely, making even Izuku question if he wanted to keep the relationship going. And he was going to break things with her, but he didn’t have a reasonable excuse. 

No matter, maybe he could rekindle this dying light with your help. 

Or so he thought. Watching as your skipping form abruptly stopped at the kitchen entrance. His brows furrowed as his alpha pushed to the surface, immediately rushing to your side. His heart dropped at the sight. 

Iida and Uraraka were hurriedly trying to clean themselves up, the appearance of you obviously disrupting their previous activities (Izuku shuddering at  thought of what that could be. But between their disheveled hair and clothes, he could make a pretty good guess). His alpha was snarling wildly and growling, begging to be let out and put that damned omega in her place. Playing with an alpha like that was shameful that in olden days, it was punishable by death. 

But Izuku knew that would nothing but scare you, and he didn’t want that. So sucking up his tears and clearing his throat, he merely let the alpha relish in the look of horror that crossed their faces.  Clutching his hands into fists, he growled lowly before opening his mouth to speak. Yet the words he heard weren’t his. 

They were yours.

“You pitiful excuse of an omega! How in the world could you even think about cheating on an alpha, let alone one as sweet as Izuku?!” You spat the words, snarling as you stepped forward, anger apparent in your words, actions and scent. “Your pathetic doing so! I’m so ashamed of your actions, you almost make me ashamed to be an omega. God, there aren’t enough words in any language to describe how inexcusable your actions have been, much less disgraceful.”

You snapped viciously before turning to face Iida. “And you! How could you do this to one of your best friends?! This is deplorable and surely is enough to tarnish the Iida family name don’t you think?!”

The shocked look the two gave you was enough for you to deem this a triumphant victory before pulling Izuku, who looked seconds away from breaking down to his room. You watched as he let the rivers upon rivers of tears escape the corners of his eyes, eventually leaving him to his own devices, as an angry and upset alpha was also an unpredictable one.

<>~<>~<>~<>

Five days. It had been five days since anyone had seen Izuku. You left him food by his door everyday for every meal, praying he was eating it. Since the stench of death wasn’t constantly wafting from his room, you would say he was. 

You had been in his room once within those five days, hoping to collect the dishes he was obviously compiling. He let you in, but holy shit did he look like death hit him with an iron mallet. His hair was greasy and his shirt had stains all over it; eyes puffy from days of crying. It made your omega whine in agony. You ended up making him a makeshift nest that day before leaving with the dishes. 

Right now, you were wishing you had stayed with him though. Recovery girl and Aizawa stood in front of you, each looking incredibly disappointed.

Uraraka had challenged you to a fight in the middle of the night, and with your omega still being incredibly angry at her, you didn’t get the chance to decline. It had been a long and tedious battle- mainly because she just wouldn’t give up- but you won in the end; with a price however. 

Your eye was swollen and turning darker by the second and the bottom right of your lower jaw was bandaged, and you had numerous other bandages covering cuts all over your body (She had thrown you through a window). 

“I’m sure you both realize how incredibly foolish this was-”

“Y/N!” 

Your head snapped up at the sound of your name, green hair quickly entering your line of vision as a body collided with yours. Pain seared through your side but you pushed through it, just happy to see the alpha out of his room. Your omega purred loudly before you could stop it, Izuku holding you close to his chest, almost in fear of letting you go. A small cough from the male teacher behind you quickly made him let go, but he still kept a hand on your shoulder. 

He sat silently as Aizawa dealt out reprimendments and  punishments, turning to you once more after he left.

If you thought he looked bad before, he looked much worse now. Bags set under his eyes, heavy and deep, and his eyes were much more bloodshot. Tear tracks reflected off of the light above you and you could see the nearly gone remnants of the drawing on his arm. 

You didn’t get to ponder more on it before he laid his head on top of yours, hiccuping as his breaths came in short gulps of air. It didn’t seem as if he were crying, but you’ve been wrong before. 

“Please. Never do that again. When I heard you got into a fight, I- I thought I had failed you again and you were seriously hurt.” His voice cracked, but his arms remained firm, keeping you tightly against him. 

“What about me, Deku?” That very voice. The one that started this mess seemed to make Izuku grip you even tighter.

“What about you?” For a normally docile alpha, the growl that escaped him would send shivers down even Bakugo’s spine. You arms instinctively wrapped around the alpha’s ribs as you nuzzled into his chest. You know he’d never hurt you, but your omega would be damned if he wasn’t surrounding by his scent right this minute. 

He purred lowly before turning his head to face the brunette beside you two, “I trusted you, Uraraka. And you broke that trust. As far as I’m concerned your nothing but a classmate right now. Maybe one day, we could rebuild a friendship, but I don’t see that day happening anytime soon. I may be partially to blame for trusting you so easily, but even then, cheating on me in downright implorable, even for a villain. You destroyed our friendship, destroyed our relationship and tried fighting Y/N. If you knew what was good for you, you’d shut up and leave me and my omega alone right now.”

Without another word, Izuku picked you up bridal style, quickly carrying you out of Recovery girl’s office. 

Deep down, you both knew he wasn’t ready for a relationship just yet- it would take a while for him to get over the harsh reality of a heartbreak. But now, Izuku could look forward knowing you were there to help him on his journey, and when he was ready...

You’d be waiting with open arms and a smile on your face.

New York High Rise {2}

Chapter summary; The time of the parley is finally here. You arrive at the club you and Steve decided the conference would be held. During your time there you don’t only get a face for the new mob boss, you also get a taste of his personality. 

Pairing: Steve x reader (mafia!au)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 2/5

Word; 8k

Warnings; mentions of drugs, alcohol and nicotine use, mentions of canon-type violence

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: So, like... this chapter wasn’t meant to become so long but it did anyways. hehe, sorry for that one. And also, I decided that this, now after starting to write it, that it will be (at least) five chapters rather than the four I planned it to be. PSA: If you want to be tagged in the series, jus send me an ask!

SERIES MASTERLIST

"We're here, Miss", you looked up at your chauffeur, who already was looking back at you in the rearview mirror.

You'd been so in your own headspace the whole drive here, to where you and Steven would meet, that you hadn't noticed you arrived. There was definitely a reason, which was that you'd done everything from flicking through the complete portfolio, now including the newest document as well, that T'Challa and Shuri had put together for you about the latest Canine boss. Even your contract you'd looked over once more. Perhaps you could call it a compulsive habit of yours rather than simple caution, seeing how it always was something you felt you needed to do, even though neither of the current documents would reveal any new fact or fault.

Seemingly it was something Mr Davon, which your chauffeur's name was, had noticed regarding how he hadn't engaged in the usual conversation the two of you commonly partook in. And by how he now looked knowingly at you, confirmed it.

"Thank you, Davon", you nodded to the grey-haired man in the front seat for notifying you that you'd arrived at the club. The man in question simply smiled before opening his door and stepped out.

Despite that you insisted on doing it yourself, you knew the usual custom of him walking around the car to open the door for you would follow his exit from the vehicle. And the moment you finished gathering the files you'd read and put them into your handbag, the sound of someone unlocking your door came.

As the door swung open, you instantly heard the sound and low thumping of music, and as soon as your eyes pulled from the car's interior to instead look outside, you were met by the lazy radiance of neon. Unconsciously, you felt your nose scrunch at the scene.

Just because this property laid in one of the few neutral territories in New York didn't mean you hadn't already scouted the site. It may be no dingy and low life hood club, the pay to enter price that was quite expensive taking care of that problem. Thus, most of those coming here weren't ordinary people. It was those for which money wasn't a problem or had enough connections to be let inside. Consequently, there was no line of people outside the entrance. Still, you loathed the idea of meeting Brooklyn's Golden boy here.

Nevertheless, you needed to admit it was better than the place Steven originally had suggested, which for a fact had been in the heart of Brooklyn. It had been a hard no to enter his grounds for a conference. The same the opposite way. That was you now found yourself in the Northern part of Queens.

"Everything alright, Miss?" Your eyes snapped to Davon, who expectantly looked over the top of the door. Patiently waiting for you to get out of the car.

"Always", you flaunted a lighthearted smile, able to do so because of the adrenaline that slowly started to settle in. It always happened before each crucial business meeting. Nothing new. Hence, you did nothing but take a deep breath to contain yourself slightly as you stepped out of the car.

There hadn't been a need for a jacket when you left your office. And though the evening air was slightly colder and served a gentle breeze, the late June wheater could still be deemed warm. Therefore, your skin didn't prickle, nor did you feel chilly, while watching one of your trusted guards, which just now had talked with the bouncer, walk towards you.

"What did he say?" You asked the big man stopping in front of you. Joshua, your most entrusted bodyguard since day one, looked dapper in the darker clothes he wore. Most of the time, he wore opaque colours. Goes with the job, the brunette always says. But, the attire itself was usually laid-back, now though he didn't wear a t-shirt or jeans. Instead, the suit you'd gifted him.

"Said that the Canines been here for the last hour", your eyebrows raised at that. You may regard punctuality as one of the keys to success. As well as to get people to view you as prepared rather than tardy. But one hour ahead of the scheduled time? That wasn't punctuality. It was impatience. Steven thought this, or rather his, deal would be done and over with swiftly, it seemed.

"Very well", you opted to say, hearing the car door close behind you when you took a few steps forward.

"I wish you good luck, Miss", you looked over your shoulder, finding Mr Davon having retaken his position by the driver's door, a kind smile on his lips. The man always was polite and wished you a favourable outcome for each meeting you went to.

"I assure you when we see each other next time, that good luck will certainly have been what ensured me my deal", you responded, earning an amused chuckle from Davon.

"I sure hope so. I'll be waiting with bated breath until you come back and tell me the good news", your smile turned a little more genuine towards the man as you nodded at him a final time before following Joshua towards the club's entrance.

Your heels clicked as you moved forwards over the pavement. Even when you stepped into the marbled and luxuriously decorated foyer, did the sound echo.

There was no question that this club wasn't for everyone. If not noticeable from the entrance hall you walked through - the personnel working there simply throwing glances your way before quickly looking away - it was apparent by the nature of the club. The clean, near shining from how polished it was, environment, along with the absence of the pungent and soured smell of alcohol, served as a constant reminder.

And though the marbled floor didn't turn into a sticky carpet when Joshua lead you further in, preferably a dark tiled floor, it became clear you closed in on the actual club part of the building. The sound of your heels faded as the music increased. Quite promptly, you started to feel the bass vibrate through the floor. Likewise, could you make out the lyrics of the songs.

Past your bodyguard, you saw how the dimmed lighting you walked through were replaced by those of neons. They reflected off the floor, the polished metal features on counters and the leatherlike seatings you spotted further ahead.

Your eyes, however, were pulled from trying to observe the area ahead to Joshua when he glanced over his shoulder. It was his silent way, regarding how the music neared the louder decibel, of asking you if everything still felt fine. Regardless that you often went with his gut-feeling if a situation was safe or not, Joshua always checked with you. Chiefly, because he knew your instinct was as good as his. You'd kept yourself alive as much as he had, to be honest.

And regarding how you didn't felt anything was off at the moment, you curtly nodded to ensure him to continue. This was a parley, after all. And, on top of that, it was pure commons sense to not draw weapons on neutral grounds. Hence, no need to worry. Yet.

When once more walking forwards, you now entered the main space.

Immidetly you regarded the multiple bar counters, the dancefloor and the tables, including the people located at those places. Albeit the light was dim and the pink, blue and purple neons contorted the colours of clothes, you spotted no dress under the price tag of a couple of thousand dollars nor any suit. You even guessed the multiple glasses filled with drinks scored as ridiculously high.

Although, it wasn't to discern those things you surveyed the room. It was to find allies and foes. The former was easier. Regarding how you not only knew who your own women along the panthers were, but also because they were the sole ones meeting your gaze as your eyes roamed the space. The latter, though, was trickier. Not only because men, already surrounded by one or multiple women, lingered their eyes over you. Even a few ladies did the same thing. More so due to the fact foes were meant to blend in.

"One in the right corner, standing with the blonde. Another two, respectively sitting with the pal in a white shirt and lounging at the bar".

You'd noticed Joshua had fallen into your step, so he preferably walked alongside you then a step ahead. Although, you hadn't felt how he dipped his head, for others rather insignificantly, but which for you enabled to hear his voice as he spoke. It was an efficient way to let him communicate with you without others noticing. And though he hadn't explained what he informed you about, it was enough for you to know.

One more time, you dragged your eyes across the room, albeit not stopping significantly longer on the people the man beside you'd pointed out. Merely to hide the fact you knew, notwithstanding the conversations they were having with their company, most of their attention was on you.

"The rest?" You looked away from the scene you'd lingered by to instead look to your side. The brunette beside you had still his head tipped slightly towards you to hear if you said anything, even if his gaze was set straight forward.

"I believe they're ahead, somewhat of an equal amount watching the corridor and him", the swift action of indicating forwards made your eyes trail from Joshua's profile to look forth.

The two of you had almost wandered half the length of the circular room and up a couple of stairs, but it seemed you wouldn't need to do a whole lap to reach the end, only climb up the last fleet of steps to the uppermost part of the room. Thus now, not more than ten or so feet before you, there was an opening in the wall.

It looked like the beginning of a corridor, one which had two men stationed by it. Even though you instantly saw they must belong to Steven's troupe, the way they lounged at the hallway entrance made them look more like fellows wanting to distance themselves from the main room of the party than bodyguards. However, the way their conversation died and eyes instantly snapped to watch you when you came closer gave them away for anyone who may have looked.

Joshua now stepped in front of you, seemingly holding a brief and tense dialogue with the two men. The three of them were all the same build, tall and sturdy. Although, you didn't feel small among them. Nor did you when Joshua motioned for you to follow him in between the two chaps.

You held your head high, knowing how much these guys ever stared at you with a burning rivalry that you never would fight them. You would fight their boss.

When you headed down the corridor, with no doors adorning the walls, you could hear multiple voices, possibly one which belonged to Steven, resound lowly from the open entrance at the end.

You supposed something adorned the walls, or they'd simply been built in such a way that the further you progressed, the more they blocked the sound of music. Otherwise, you wouldn't have heard the merry laughs or chatter, nor the return of the click of your heels, when you neared the door standing ajar.

You began to smell a sweet scent as Joshua stopped in the doorway to the room. Thus, you nearly concentrated more on the smell than the way the room fell quiet. Lucky for you, you'd already encountered the aroma. Otherwise, you would've been bothered by not being able to place it.

It wasn't the aroma of a women's perfume nor food. You knew what it was. The godfathers always offered you one of the rolled tobacco's when visiting. And, the moment your dark-haired bodyguard stepped to the side to let you step over the threshold of the room, you immediately found a golden casket, opened and displaying the finest of cigars, standing on the edge of the table inside. However, your eyes didn't linger there for long. Instead, they trailed to the man you were about to meet, who was one of many already watching you, yet the sole one sitting down and smoking a cigar.

Steven Grant Rogers.

You almost slipped and showed how taken aback you were, not because of the dominating aura exuding from the man in the leather armchair, such things you were plenty used to. But no, it was as of a fact his looks.

He was young, much younger than you'd thought. If to decide by his appearance, Steven must've been born close after his father's death. You would never have guessed when knowing of the age his father passed and concerning how he operated his empire and the rivalry against you. From this, the man definitely fitted the older generation. But no, it seemed he apparently didn't belong there.

"Nice to finally have a face for the man that's been testing my patience lately", you broke the silence that had covered the room like a lid. Though you awaited the same reaction you would've had to such a comment - which would've been nothing more than a smile regarding how you couldn't bother to display any prominent reply - Steven did the complete opposite.

He chuckled, the sound a deep rumble of amusement. You almost wondered if his voice would be equally as low or if it all was a consequence of smoking the cigar he for the moment held limply between his finger. Apparently, you would get an answer to that quicker than you imagined. And the answer was his voice was like that of molasses, deep and rich.

"I took the liberty to prepare a drink for you", the Canine boss motioned, with a nod, towards the identical leather armchair on the opposite side of the table and the small stand beside it. You spotted the same crystal glass you had at home resting upon it, with a deep amber liquid in it. Whiskey. "Would you have preferred on the rocks?"

Your eyes tracked back to Steven, who currently reached for his own glass. Which similar to yours stood on the small table beside his seat. He made the small move without averting his gaze from you.

"I actually prefer it neat", he cocked his head as you said this.

His hair was not cut short or trimmed neatly like all those men before him. Instead, it reached the nape of his neck. No pomade or other product kept it out of his face. It simply looked like he'd ran his hands through it once and for some magical reason, it had stayed like that without looking greasy. But it was because he seemingly hadn't put any product in that one of the strands, shifting from brown to dark blonde, had fallen slightly out of order when he'd moved his head. Nevertheless, seeing as it had done nothing but come to rest against his cheekbone, Steven paid it no attention.

"What suggests it's neat?" This time, you cocked your head.

"I simply presumed you didn't take yours any other way", as you stated this, a smile began to ghost the man's lip.

"Be my guest, then", Steven replied, raising a hand to gesture towards the empty armchair opposite him.

You simply smiled at the invitation, walking forwards with back straight and head held high, no matter you were the sole one making a sound in the room and all the eyes were on you. Even as you sat down in the leather chair, you didn't wince at how the material groaned when finally being forced to change its state of unoccupied.

To be sitting opposite the man that you for days had prepared to meet was totally different than what you'd expected. Not only because you awaited an older, a much older heir of the Canine Empire, also because the man now watching you with blue eyes that pierced your stare back evoked a challenge.

You understood why Shuri thought this would be interesting now, even though you still found this whole matter nothing but bothersome. Steven could possibly be the sole person to actually put up a hurdle for you.

"What do you say, should we let our fellow companions leave so we can start?" Even though the man had stated it as a question, he waved his fingers directly afterwards, dismissing his guards as if it had been a command for you to follow. And therefore, you simply leaned further into the back of the leather seat, one leg hooking over the other. Making your heeled shoe relaxed in the air.

You would not follow his command that easy.

"Not that clever to send out your guards before the opposing part agrees", you regarded how your words made one of Steven's bodyguards stop on the threshold out of the room. The brunette with shoulder-length hair didn't stay there for long, though, concerning how his boss's minimal nod served as enough of command to continue out.

"Concerning this is a parley, I doubt you would dare kill me", there was a mockery in his voice that you disliked, despite your reasoning earlier had been the same.

"Doubt it", his eyes narrowed when you said this. Moreover, he also deposited both his glass of whiskey and his cigar in its hold. The smoke from the rolled tobacco whirled up in a thin line from the table. Instead, then a cloud from his lips as previously.

"I know you don't like to get your hands dirty", Steven said, the hand which had rested on the armrest coming to stroke his bearded jaw. Despite the facial hair, you knew there laid a sharp edge underneath it, separating his throat and face. Hence, his beard followed that line with an undeceiving definition. "So why do I own the pleasure?"

"I never said I would be the one pulling the trigger", even if I dreamt to, you thought to yourself as you looked back at Joshua. Ever the guard he was, his eyes only momentarily shifted from the mob boss facing you to meet your glance before he vigilantly went back to observing Steven. You looked back at the Canine whose eyes seemingly had trailed to watch your bodyguard the same instance you had but by now snapped back to you. "And not even you, as the parasite that you are, deserves a bullet coming from my gun".

Instantly you saw the tick enter Steven's jaw when he clenched it. You very well knew that your choice of word for him would push his buttons. Like every last godfather, he was a prideful man. And like you'd played them like strings ever since reaching the top, so you would do to the man in front of you. That was why you raised your hand from tapping on the armrest of your seat.

You heard the move Joshua did at your action, even hinted at it in your peripheral. Although, instead of concentrating on the gun that he'd unholstered and pointed Steven's way, your eyes stayed on the later mentioned man.

Presumably, the mob boss was staring down the barrel of the gun. But there was no frown etched upon his forehead, displaying a worry. Nor were there any tenseness in his body as he languidly sank further back in the armchair, legs splayed wide and arms resting on top of the armrest.

Steven slowly turned then, from watching the gun aimed at him, to meet your gaze.

"Do it. You'll just get all my allies over you".

"Let them come. I'll win. After all, you requested this meeting when you knew you were about to lose", another jab at Steven's pride, one he took personally this time, you saw it by the glint entering his eyes. But, rather than putting him out of his misery and ridding yourself of a thorn in your side. You dropped your hand completely rather than flick your index and long finger down, which was the signal to shoot.

"But, seeing as I'm already humble enough to give you the chance to meet me rather than grinding you to dust, I'll continue on that track for the moment", you hummed while you heard Joshua sheath his gun again.

"How grateful I am", the stinge of terseness was evident in Steven's voice as he spoke, but you paid it no mind, just gave him the slight raise of your eyebrows as if to convey a silent 'as you should'. "And now the guard, so we can start".

You'd gotten your point across to him. Therefore, you didn't hesitate to order Joshua to wait outside during the negotiation this time.

"Are you...", you didn't let the brunette finish his sentence before you shot him a look, which was enough for Joshua to understand you were indeed sure. You followed the back of your trusted guard, who trailed the same path as Steven's had a few minutes prior. And not until he disappeared and instead gave the view of a now-closed door did you redirect your eyes back to the Canine boss.

For some reason, it felt like it got lighter in the room, not simply as in the heavy silence of multiple added presences. More so that the lamps, not the same as the neon ones outside, shone brighter. Perhaps, it was because only you and Steven were left, giving it a vaster opportunity to spread.

It made you remark and notice even further details about the mob boss. Not only did it lighten his eyes, but it also made the shifting of brown and dark blonde locks contrast considerably with what he wore.

You didn't talk about a slightly too large suit, which you often refrained from remarking how ill-fitted they were to the godfathers, seeing as they were the sole ones wearing them. No, Steven... you knew he'd chosen to wear what he did to make an impression. Why else was there any need for a three-piece suit, all in black on top of that? Maybe the same reason as you'd chosen your attire, power. He wanted to show he was the top dog. Only, he was forgetting that if he were no bear, the felines were amongst the apex predators, no canine in sight.

For the passing moments, neither of you said anything, simply sat there watching each other. Observing each other.

He was a man fit for the role of a mob boss. Thus Steven had that aura one simply possessed or not. He evokes the need to be respected, to be feared. Therefore, you guessed leading came naturally for him. And that his physics -which you discerned to be great, by the how he almost dwarfed the armchair he sat in- only was a measurement to further establish his status as alpha.

In other words, he was the one who your eyes would draw to first when stepping into a room and also the last when bidding goodbye.

"Are you impatient?" Your jaws clenched when the canine boss broke the silence saying this. As well did your nails, which had been rapping against the leathered armrest, stop when he tipped his head in such way he told you he noticed the movement.

"I am not you, Steven", you retorted, which simply made the corner of his mouth quirk upwards. You raised a brow at his reaction. The amount of amusement and overall cockiness he returned your comments with steadily made you, despite what you said, rather impatient to get this over with. Yet, it seemed Steven had no hurry whatsoever now when you were waiting for him to begin.

He looked away from you, the smirk tugging in the corner of his lips remaining there as he reached for the whiskey glass he previously had put down. Your gaze, however, didn't stray from the man opposite you. Consequently, making your eyes trail his profile while he took a sip of the alcohol, savouring the taste by the looks of it.

When he lowered the glass, swirling its contents gently, his gaze found yours. He didn't remark how your eyes never ventured from him and around the room to inspect it further, not really that it was much to see.

"Call me Steve", he said, which made your eyebrows lift. Either he offered you a nickname, or it was just what most called him. Still, both were unusual seeing the setting the two of you were in. "And to sate your wonder why I ain't starting this meeting, we'll begin as soon as one last member joins us", you felt a tenseness stiffen your body when Steven, Steve, so nonchalantly had told you this. You may have underestimated the canine boss somewhat. Because seemingly, he was blatantly good at reading people. Perhaps that was why you compelled your voice to sound even more indifferent than before when responding.

"Thought you said this was a private affair".

"Oh, it is, our entertainment won't hear a thing", not even before you could think that you feared the worst from his statement did the sound of a door opening catch your attention.

You noticed in your peripheral how this time it was your turn to be the single one averting your eyes, concerning how you felt Steve continued observing you when you looked away from him. Though you despised the equal amount of curiosity and caution that had made you look towards the entrance at the moment, it was done and you couldn't more than proceed to look at the person now entering the room.

It was not any sort of guard, concerning how the man entering wasn't of the same build as either Joshua, or any of Steve's men. On top of that, he seemed incredibly timid, not only by how silently he tried closing the door behind him but also by the hurried steps he approached the end of your table with.

"Mr Rogers", the man nodded at the mob boss when close enough. "Miss Y/L/N", he quickly repeated the greeting your way while completely stopping at the end of the table. "I'll just prepare the set-up for you and..."

"Good", Steve answered before the man finished, effectively cutting him off. You felt the side of your nose twitch by the dark blonde man's blunt way of stopping the club worker from talking. Steve certainly lived up to his reputation of doing as he pleased with no regard for others.

You probably would've huffed if you didn't already know the Canine boss would understand why. And, to be honest, you tried reducing the number of remarks leaving him, concerning how the meeting hadn't even started and you were fed up with his persona already.

So, instead of commenting on Steve's attitude, you watched the man who had entered the room put up a metal case on the table.

You hadn't noticed it earlier, even though the crate, made of aluminium, was quite eye-catching. But now, when you had, you knew before it was opened and revealed rows and rows of tokens as well as a set of cards that it had been a poker set.

This time, you couldn't help but cock an eyebrow, unimpressed by Steve's attempt of entertainment. Maybe you were more old school than you thought, seeing how the Canine boss kept surprising you with his way of handling a conference.

"Poker?" You questioned out loud when swiftly glancing up at Steve, who, while you looked away, had reached for his cigar, puffing on it slightly.

"Hope you know how to play", he said amusedly, blowing out the lungful of smoke he inhaled right before answering you. It travelled across the table but evaporated before reaching you, albeit the sweet scent still did.

You refrained from answering him. Simply settled on switching which leg crossed which, while grasping the whiskey glass.

The russet liquid was almost soothing in its taste, despite the burning sensation in the back of your throat after swallowing it. It was sweet at the same time that it was spicy, giving your tastebuds the imagination that caramel and cinnamon dwelled on them. You relished in the taste while following the man setting up the oncoming poker game.

He'd placed the dealer chip before himself and was currently shuffling the cards. It was clear it was his profession by how smoothly he did it.

Hence, not until he seemed satisfied did he put them down beside the box and redirected his eyes to flicker between you and Steve.

"How many chips do you desire?" The dealers gaze had locked with yours as he asked the question, yet before you could answer him, you were cut off short.

"We'll take ten thousand worth of chips each", you glanced at Steve as he said this.

"Deciding to become a gentleman all of a sudden?" You remarked while the dealer started to stack the number of tokens the man opposite you had requested. A tug tilted the dark-blonde mob boss mouth upwards into a smirk.

"I'm always a gentleman".

"A gentleman would've offered a higher amount", his smile dropped. "This was a forced act of charity".

"This is nothing more than entertainment to pass our time during our meeting", he got defensive. You heard it by how sharply he worded the sentence.

"Who said passing time should be done cheaply?" It was clear you didn't want Steve to answer, by how you neglected him of any further attention by looking elsewhere.

While your and Steve's short conversation had taken place, you'd missed how efficiently the dark-haired man had dealt out not only each of your chips but also your individual pair of cars. Even the aluminium case was off the table.

"Are you ready to begin?" You only met the dealer's eyes momentarily before looking at Steve.

"If the gentleman is, so am I".

"You heard the lady", as much mockery that you'd accentuated the title aimed at him, as much did he put on the one he returned to you. You didn't take ill, simply peeked at your cards, a two and eight, both spades, before starting the first round of betting by chucking two hundred worth of chips into the pot.

The dealer nodded, understanding the first game had begun. Thus, looking expectantly at the Canine boss for his move. Steve looked at his cards before calling as well. Meaning the dealer could show the first three cards you would play after.

The flop was turned up quickly despite the awkward placing the man had at the end of the table. Seven of hearts, two of clubs and eight of spades was the first batch of cards. So far, you only sat on a pair of eights. Not great.

"So, Steve, tell me now when our entertainment has started, why have I bothered to come here?" You shortly diverted your eyes from the game to grab your glass of whiskey. Once you looked upon the table again, the fourth street card was presented, queen of diamonds. You called.

"I'm here to offer you a deal", as expected, you thought to yourself and withstood the urge to roll your eyes, not solely because of what he'd said but also that he raised the bet. He was sure he would win.

"Speak up then", you spoke after sipping your drink.

You knew the slight twitch in the corner of his mouth wasn't from what one could read as impatience from you -which it wasn't, just a command- but rather that the last card turned for this round much have matched what he desired. And the card had been the queen of spades. Thus, instead of following his raised bet with a call or even a further raise, you checked. Steve called.

When the dealer confirmed the round was over and it was time for showdown, you and the mob boss opposite you both flipped your cards visible for the other. As you guessed, he'd won and it was on queens, three of a kind.

While the dealer pushed the pot of this game towards Steve and quickly went on with collecting the cards and reshuffling them, the Canine finally looked at you.

"Concerning how you ventured into my territory the last few months, I want you to pull back all your dealings with everyone on my side of New York, no matter how big or small", you cocked a brow at Steve's demand.

"You were the one overstepping the border to my area first. I only answered", you reminded the mob boss while the next poker-round began. You had better cards this time, a jack and a nine.

"And that's my deal, sweetheart", he began once he'd followed your call and once more, the flop was turned. You didn't even pay attention to the cards, as your eyes snapped up to him and nose scrunched at the nickname he used for you. "If you don't pull back your advances in Brooklyn, I'll continue painting your streets red".

It was how brazenly he stated that he wouldn't stop the killing that made your jaws clench. If this hadn't been a conversation eye to eye, preferably over the phone where you could mute yourself if needed, you would've put down your whiskey glass a lot less gently. But now, only the awaited echo of crystalline glass settling on the marble side-table sounded.

"So you want me to pull back my offence? Solely for you to stop the killing? Not pull back your forces from Manhattan, just stop picking off my allies?" You questioned him, instinctively checking to not bother with the game.

"You heard it", was all Steve said as he followed your act of checking, consequently making the last card become turned without any further bet placed than the initial one.

You continued observing the dark-blonde man. His eyes, albeit the light blue could trick you, conveyed no humour. So he was serious.

You didn't know if that made things better or simply made you lose all and any hope in a man that tried running an empire this way. You'd expected a poor deal to come from him. But this, this wasn't just bad. It was ridiculous.

You definitely hadn't been playing to win this round. Which, when you absentmindedly called before the showdown, became apparent. You got two pair on your jack and nine. Commonly, you would've bet a little more on that. Although seeing how Steve got four of a kind with his ten's, whatever you didn't do wouldn't have mattered. Your hand wasn't enough to win.

"Do you think that's how you run an empire?" You broke the silence quite harshly. At least it was enough for the man distributing the pot and collecting the cards to jerk slightly. But you didn't care about him. Closer to the truth was that you all but ignored his shuffling in your peripheral. What you concentrated on was the rise of Steve's eyebrow at your remark.

"It works, doesn't it. Or do you have any pointers on how you think I should run it, sweetheart?" The dog had really crawled under your skin, as Shuri had said.

"You shouldn't run it as your father", you wanted to snap at him. Instead, you levelled your voice, forced it to not turn shrill with agitation. And it struck a nerve, not his pride but a nerve. It was clear by how Steve remained leaned forward after having inspected his new set of cards. "Your visionary is old-school. To remain in control and run an empire, you need to be able to read the future. At the moment, all you have is just a dirty business".

"Dirty? You ain't really the cleanest angel in this world when picking of my men", you definitely had struck a nerve, seeing how his voice had become thicker but more powerful.

However, despite Steve's try to show his authority, you waved of his clap-back dismissively while leaning forwards and not more than tipping the edge of your own cards to see the suit and symbol. A queen and an Ace, both decorated with the sigil of a spade. You withheld showing the amusement towards both the Canine boss and his outburst and the feeling of finally having a game that would be yours to win.

"I've never said I was. But, even those killing on my order is smooth and precise. No tracks. Which is quite contrasting to your manslaughter", thanks to Steve already resting his forearms on his knees, the mob boss swift move of following your raised bet even before the first three cards was presented went fast.

You couldn't help but glance up at him for a short second before looking down again to the new card the dealer turned. A smirk now threateningly close to spreading. Because what you'd seen was a pair of blue eyes growing darker than any brown eyes ever been. And those eyes were set on you rather than the first poker game you had any genuine interest in.

"You've got your point across. You ain't ready to put a bullet between someone's eyes to clear a hurdle..."

"Clearly, I haven't gotten my point across if you misunderstood it", you cut Steve off halfway through his sentence, one you knew would've ended in a demand for a yes or no answer on the deal he oh so kindly offered.

Before looking up at him, you made your move in the poker game, a call. Steve, who still had his eyes trained on you, chucked a random amount of chips into the pot, resulting in not only a three doubled raise than what the original call had been but also for the round to continue to the last card.

"What I meant, Steve, is that I'm ready to fight for what I've created. Though, compared to you, I know people are resources, not constant hurdles", you said, eyes tracking down to the last card now resting upon the table. "Together with this, the cogs upholding your empire are getting rusty and soon won't be able to be changed at all because the model is too old. You invest in nightclubs and any other category of clubs where one can drink themselves stupid, along with other businesses that even I, who run a syndicate, frown upon. It ain't sustainable, so why would I ever seal a deal with you, knowing your empire will crumble in a few years? Give me one good reason".

You didn't need to look up and away from the table to see how the Canine boss fisted his hands, that you saw anyways.

"You've just pointed out why you should seal the deal while you can", this, however, made your gaze turn upwards to meet his. "You may be ready to fight, but how dirty? I invest in things that make money. I pave my own way instead of hesitantly following an already existing one. I'll be the one surviving because if something ever malfunctions in my empire, I won't be put in a situation unfamiliar to me, unlike you. If your perfectly built skyscraper suddenly gets hits by an earthquake, it ain't built to withstand it".

"As I said, give me one good reason and I'll even entertain the thought of considering your deal", you let yourself remain unfazed by Steve's previous threat. Because even though he hit his head on some points, what he'd said wasn't reason, just intimidation.

"It's the best decision for your little empire, sweetheart". The condescending manner he said it this in made you, even though your blood steadily began to boil by the audacity of yet another wealthy and power-hungry mob boss to speak down to you, simply glance down at the two cards laying face down before you.

There was no need to look at them once more. You wouldn't forget a queen of spades and ace of spades existed there. You would especially not forget it when ten of spades, jack of spades and the king of spades rested among the five upturned community cards.

"If you're brave enough to call me sweetheart, are you brave enough to go all-in?" You pushed all your chips into the pot as you said this. When looking up at Steve after that, the first thing you were met by was the cocky look on his face. It was all created by that quirk of his brow, the proud look in his eyes telling you how wrong your decision had been. And that he, without hesitation, mimicked your move.

However, you knew the Canine boss lost all the money he'd put into the game the moment he did. When he put his hand down, showing the straight flush of hearts, numbered from king to nine, it was simply a fact.

"Show me your cards, sweetheart", you only tipped your head, flipping your cards to lay flat on the table, open for the man opposite you to see.

There was no need for you to watch your royal flush. Thus, you simply watched the change on Steve's face. His smirk shifted into a thin line. His arrogant appearance trickled away in a ripple, initiated from the twitch by the side of his nose. Your victory didn't only irk him. He loathed it.

"You're rash and impatient and forgets to think when your temper takes over. You see, Steve, that's why you may win the first few matches, but not the league. So, should I really listen to you speaking about what's best for me when you can't even win a little game of poker?" You caught how his eyes snapped up to glare at you but paid it no mind as you turned towards the dealer.

"Could you collect the chips and transfer them to cash?" You asked the dark-haired men, who, with a swift nod, answered your question.

"What's your name?" The man glanced at Steve, obviously noting that the one who'd hired him for the evening wasn't in the best mood.

You had heard the rumour of Steve being a charmer, which settled deals easy most of the time. However, you also heard that the Canine boss was quick, if not quicker, to take out the gun if his charm didn't do the job. Regarding how cautious this man was, whatever the dark-blonde man still glaring daggers at you had done to rent either his service or this whole club hadn't contained faith, simply fear.

That was why you didn't push any further for a name.

"Very well, keep the money as a tip", the dealer swiftly snapped his head to look at you, eyes wide.

"B-but..."

"I have no use for it and seeing as you did a good job, you earned it", your voice, albeit softer and not as foul as when directed at Steve, didn't leave any room for discussion. This the dark-haired man also understood, as he gave you a small smile as thanks and hastily collected the tokens.

Within a minute, the former dealer had arranged all the chips that he would trade for the hefty amount they were worth, along with the rest of the poker material he'd had with him. And once done, he only left with an appreciative nod towards you, rather than both you and Steve as he'd done when first entering.

It was in the echo of the door shutting that you finally looked at Steve again. His eyes were heated, but you couldn't but smile at him instead of answering with a similar scowl.

"Steven, like this poker game shown, not only was my hand valued higher than yours but so is my empire. I do not hear any bargain coming from you about how you should've won this game or how we should meet in a middle that favoured you more than me, despite that your hand was a straight flush while mine was a royal flush. So, why are you doing it with my empire?" You uncrossed your legs, leaning forward similarly as he had done for the past minutes. "Rules are rules, are they not? And if we follow the rules of poker, that means the highest rank of hands is set to win. Therefore, I'm the one who should go winning out of this deal you try to settle with me too", he was grinding his jaws and you guessed his mind was grinding equally as hard.

"You seem to forget that luck is a big part of the game". Steve's voice was more a gruff sound than anything else.

"Oh, but I haven't", you hummed, leaning backwards until your back leaned into the spine of your leathered stool.

Reaching for your whiskey glass, you simply held it for a minute, an index finger tapping against the side, while letting your eyes glide over the Canine boss.

"You see, your success is all about luck. You're an only child, your father's golden boy. Of course, you get to inherit the empire he established before you because he believes you'll be able to rule it with the same grace as he. Why you took so long to step into the role, though, is a mystery. But I didn't mind, seeing as you left room for more suitable individuals to take The Canines former position", he leaned backwards again when you said this and you knew it was a reaction connected solely to your words. Once again, you'd struck a weak spot because he remained silent as his features became pinched and hands gripped the armrests.

"Compared to you, though, my route has been tough, self-learnt and mastered. Upon that, I have a cover, I got money from working and through business choices those sums only raised. You may be the luck of the game, but I am the one with the skill".

"Only because the rest of the world thinks your fortune is a lucky investment, everyone in this world knows the truth, no matter how much you try to hide it. Your money is as dirty as mine", the octave Steve's voice had dropped into to display whatever threat or resentment he held for you at the moment, made you chuckle rather than shy away from him.

"But I try to wipe the dirt off of them at least".

"What? With your charity galas to raise money for those who need it? It's the biggest joke I ever heard".

It was always amusing to hear someone resent your charity galas because you believed anyone could and would hold them if they simply wanted to. But to take up a gun, shoot someone and then hide was more manageable than to execute a double-sided play.

"It may be a joke to you, Rogers, but I keep my facade up to ensure my and my empires survival. You have already crumbled by not caring how much blood that drips in the wake of your name", you stated. When continuing, you cocked your head to the side as if you spoke to a child. "So you know what, the best thing you can do for your empire is to sign my deal", while you'd talked, you also reached for the folder containing the contract. And, it was with a blasé edge you threw it before him on the table.

"If you don't sign it and have it delivered to me, I know you've declined my offer and this war will be ended in another way", you took a last sip of th whiskey before putting it down on the table separating you rather then the side table it was meant to stand on. "Great doing business with you, Steven".

You didn't wait for a reply nor refusal before you rose from the leather armchair with your handbag in your grasp. Walking towards the door and the impending sound of the clubs blaring music, you left the mob boss that had dared to challenge you behind.

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For Women's History Month 2021, GRAMMY.com is celebrating some of the women artists nominated at the 2021 GRAMMY Awards show. Today, we honor Taylor Swift, who's currently nominated for six GRAMMYs.

When we met Taylor Swift in 2006, it was immediately apparent that her songwriting approach was like ripping a page out of her diary.

"Just a boy in a Chevy truck/ That had a tendency of gettin' stuck/ On backroads at night/ And I was right there beside him all summer long/ And then the time we woke up to find that summer gone," she lamented in the first verse of her debut single, "Tim McGraw(opens in a new tab)." The way the then-16-year-old Swift could turn personal anecdotes into instantly memorable hooks mirrored the prowess of an industry veteran, appealing to more than just the teenage girls that could relate to a short-lived high school romance.

Now, nearly 15 years later, Swift has introduced another layer of intrigue with a foray into indie folk, unveiling a pair of albums, folklore and evermore, last year. Recorded entirely in isolation after the COVID-19 pandemic hit in March 2020, folklore has been widely acclaimed(opens in a new tab) as Swift's best album, touted for its intimate songwriting and cinematic dynamics; evermore has received similarly glowing reviews(opens in a new tab).

folklore was 2020's best-selling album(opens in a new tab) and earned Swift five GRAMMY nominations at the 2021 GRAMMY Awards show, including her fourth Album Of The Year nod. (evermore will be eligible for the 64th GRAMMY Awards in 2022.) As her 10 previous GRAMMY wins suggest, though, this new chapter isn't an abrupt departure for the star—it's a masterful continuation of her evolution as a singer/songwriter.

If there's one thing that Swift has proven throughout her career, it's that she refuses to be put in a box. Her ever-evolving sound took her from country darling to pop phenom to folk's newest raconteur—a transition that, on paper, seems arduous. But for Swift, it was seamless and resulted in perhaps her most defining work yet. And folklore’s radiance relies on three of Swift’s songwriting tools: heartfelt balladeering, autobiographical writing, and character-driven storytelling.

While there was always a crossover element to Swift's pop-leaning country tunes, her transition from country starlet to pop queen began with Red. The album’s lead single, the feisty breakup anthem "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together(opens in a new tab)," was Swift's first release to reach No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 (and, ironically, scoffed "indie records much cooler than mine"). She declared a full pop makeover with 2014's 1989, but the response proved that her bold move was the right one: Along with spawning three more No. 1 hits, the project won Swift her second GRAMMY for Album of the Year.

From there, 2017’s Reputation, a response to media scrutiny, and 2019’s Lover, an often bubbly exploration of all facets of affection, followed. Although they shared similarly grandiose production, Lover featured a handful of poetic ballads, including "The Archer(opens in a new tab)," a self-reflective love song that teased Swift's folk sensibilities through storybook lyrics and ambient textures.

Swift’s ballads are key in understanding the full essence of folklore. They’ve regularly marked standout moments on each of her albums, both thanks to her poignant vulnerability and rich tone. Fearless standout "White Horse" earned Swift two GRAMMYs in 2009; Red's painstaking "All Too Well" was an instant fan favorite; 1989's "This Love" and Reputation's "New Years Day" provided tenderness amid otherwise synth-heavy sounds.

The raw emotion she puts into her downtempo songs comes alive on folklore, introducing a new wave of neo-classical sonics that elevate her fanciful penmanship to an ethereal level. Whether or not Swifties saw a full indie-pop record coming—at least not yet—the shift isn't all that surprising. Folklore’s romanticized lyrics and relatively lo-fi production are arguably what many fans have been patiently waiting on.

Lyrically, the super-personal nature of Swift’s music has always captivated fans and naysayers alike; diehards and critics dissected each of her albums for its real-life subjects and hidden meanings. While she played into those conspiracies at the time—whether she was revealing names in titles like "Hey Stephen(opens in a new tab)" and "Dear John(opens in a new tab)" or scathing the other girl on "Better Than Revenge(opens in a new tab)"—even Swift herself admits that her teenage method had an expiration date.

"There was a point that I got to as a writer who only wrote very diaristic songs that [it] felt unsustainable for my future moving forward," she told Apple Music's(opens in a new tab) Zane Lowe in December of 2020. "It felt like too hot of a microscope ... On my bad days, I would feel like I was loading a cannon of clickbait when that's not what I want for my life."

That realization is what helped make folklore so memorable: Swift stripped away the drama to let her artful storytelling shine. Sure, there are occasional callbacks to personal happenings ("invisible string(opens in a new tab)" references sending her exes baby gifts and "mad woman(opens in a new tab)" alludes to her legal battle with Scott Borchetta and Scooter Braun). Still, she largely shies away from her autobiographical narratives to make way for her imagination.

"I found myself not only writing my own stories, but also writing about or from the perspective of people I've never met, people I've known, or those I wish I hadn't," Swift wrote in a letter to fans(opens in a new tab) on social media the day folklore arrived. "The lines between fantasy and reality blur and the boundaries between truth and fiction become almost indiscernible."

folklore might be her first full project dedicated to creating characters and projecting storylines, but Swift has shown a knack for fantasy from the start. Tracks like "Mary's Song (Oh My My)(opens in a new tab)" on her self-titled debut and "Starlight(opens in a new tab)" on Red saw Swift craft stories for real-life muses ("Mary's Song" was inspired by an old couple who lived next door to Swift in her childhood; "Starlight" was sparked from seeing a picture of Ethel and Bobby Kennedy as teens). Even when songs did pertain to her real life, Swift often had a way of flipping memories into whimsical metaphors, like the clever clap-back to a critic on Speak Now's "Mean(opens in a new tab)" or the rebound relationship in Reputation's "Getaway Car(opens in a new tab)."

To think that we wouldn't have folklore without a pandemic is almost surreal; it's already become such a fundamental piece of Swift’s artistic puzzle. There was no telling what may have come after the glittering "love letter to love itself” that was Lover, but it seems isolation made the singer rethink any plans she may have had.

"I just thought there are no rules anymore because I used to put all these parameters on myself, like, 'How will this song sound in a stadium? How will this song sound on radio?' If you take away all the parameters, what do you make?" she told Paul McCartney in a November (opens in a new tab)Rolling Stone(opens in a new tab) interview(opens in a new tab). "And I guess the answer is folklore."

Even if she hasn’t been making indie music herself, Swift has shown an affinity for the genre over the years through curated digital playlists(opens in a new tab). Those included four songs by The National including "Dark Side of the Gym," which she references on folklore single "betty(opens in a new tab)," and "8 (Circle)" by Bon Iver, Swift's collaborator on folklore's gut-wrenching "exile(opens in a new tab)" as well as evermore’s title track. (“Exile” is one of folklore’s GRAMMY-nominated cuts, up for Best Pop Duo/Group Performance.)

The National’s guitarist Aaron Dessner co-wrote nine and produced 11 of folklore's 16 tracks, soundtracking Swift's imaginative tales with sweeping orchestration and delicate piano. Their partnership started with "cardigan(opens in a new tab)," a melancholy take on teenage love(opens in a new tab) that's up for Best Pop Solo Performance and the coveted Song of the Year. The team-up was a dream come true for Swift, a self-proclaimed National superfan and a career highlight for Dessner, who shared in an Instagram post(opens in a new tab) about folklore that he's "rarely been so inspired by someone." He sees the album as a pivotal moment for both Swift's career and pop music.

"Taylor has opened the door for artists to not feel pressure to have 'the bop,'" Dessner shared with (opens in a new tab)Billboard(opens in a new tab) in September. "To make the record that she made, while running against what is programmed in radio at the highest levels of pop music—she has kind of made an anti-pop record. And to have it be one of the most, if not the most, successful commercial releases of the year that throws the playbook out.

"I hope it gives other artists, especially lesser-known or more independent artists, a chance at the mainstream," he continued. "Maybe radio will realize that music doesn't have to sound as pushed as it has. Nobody was trying to design anything to be a hit. Obviously, Taylor has the privilege of already having a very large and dedicated audience, but I do feel like it's having a resonance beyond that."

Swift's other primary folklore collaborator was Jack Antonoff. He has been her right-hand man since they first paired up on 2013's promotional single "Sweeter Than Fiction(opens in a new tab)" (Swift referred to him as "musical family" in her folklore announcement(opens in a new tab)). Even after years of creating stadium-ready pop smashes, Antonoff said in his own folklore Instagram post(opens in a new tab), "I've never heard Taylor sing better in my life / write better."

As Swift recognizes herself, folklore ushered in a new way of thinking for the superstar that not only brings out her best, but sets a promising precedent for what's to come. "What I felt after we put out folklore was, 'Oh wow, people are into this too, this thing that feels really good for my life and my creativity,'" Swift added in her interview with Lowe. "I saw a lane for my future that was a real breakthrough moment of excitement and happiness."

Her enthusiasm is tangible on both folklore and evermore. Dubbed folklore’s sister record, evermore further expands Swift’s newfound mystical atmosphere. Much to the delight of many Swifties, the follow-up also calls back to her country beginnings on tracks like the HAIM-assisted “no body, no crime(opens in a new tab),” as well as her pop expertise on more uptempo cuts like “long story short(opens in a new tab).”

Together, the albums are a momentous reminder that Swift is a singer/songwriter first. Her wordcraft is some of the most alluring of her generation, and that’s never been lost on her music, regardless of the genre she’s exploring. But now that Swift also feels she's at her best, it’s evident folklore was just the beginning of Taylor Swift in her finest form.