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jae-canikeepyou · 4 years

Text

| kismet | j.jh | part one

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 10k+ welps

summary: his parents sends him for a month long vacation to the country side to meet his other half, which so happens to be you. and alternatively, your beloveds asks of you to be in your best behaviour while he’s around. disliking how things turn out, you both come up with a pact with each other before your two families gathers together for christmas eve dinner.

genre: arranged marriage + bad 1st impressions

a/n: happy new year ✨ and you know what that means? *wink wink* new layout for my oneshots hihi! ok you guys this took soooooo long to write ;-; i wasn’t satisfied with the first draft so i had to reboot everything! and i mean everything!! :3 so i had this specific genre in mind for a long time and i’m glad that someone requested at the same time while i was in the progress of writing it~ i should’ve posted this on christmas day but i was spending time with my family :D hope you understand hihihi anyway i’ll stop this here so you can enjoy reading! ~j

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| part two | part three (final) |

jaehyun never reacted so quickly in his entire life, simultaneously spitting out the drink he consumed and eyes growing at the news his parents suddenly brought up. his neck ache at sudden twist. “what did you say?” he wiped the drips of coffee at the corners of his lips. his breathing intensified the more the silence passed.

mr. and mrs. jeong playfully sighed & exchanged looks as their son shouldn’t be this surprised regarding the topic. they have discussed about this when he turned eighteen. now twenty-three, he shouldn’t be so surprised or over-reactive about it either.

“you heard your father,” mrs. jeong chewed her meal elegantly, yet giggles were still heard through closed lips. “you’re meeting her next week.”

he squinted with plenty of doubts filling his head, he was sure that there was still a year left. and to him that also meant he has exactly a year to convince his parents to call off the marriage he never asked for, let alone planned it. he still has a lot- correction, have yet to achieve in his mid-twenties and having a wife now would be slightly cutting his privacy short.

in other words, the path to leisure he wished for after years of academics would divert to spending a life planned out for him. he had a diary and planner, and

they were organised and well-thought out. but he had enough of his parents writing out his future for him, why couldn’t he write his own love story?

jaehyun was on his second last year of veterinary medicine, having some of the weight and pressure of academics lifted off his shoulders. of course he knew he still has to study, he just felt a little relaxed knowing that he would soon practice his dream career.

never had he expected that time flew and was going to meet his fiancé soon.

his phone blinked with along with a message from his friends— mark and johnny. he briefly looked at the wallpaper of his long-time girlfriend of four years; she was the one who was on his mind. “nononono, i can’t get married now.” jaehyun’s panicking voice echoed the dining area, shoving the phone into his pockets.

mr. jeong raised a brow, placing his cup of coffee on the glass table. “relax, you’re not putting a ring on her finger yet.”

“‘yet’?!” the dimples on his face deepened as his cheeks bubbled. “mom, dad, i haven’t even met her!”

“hm? that’s why you’re spending the whole month at the countryside!” mrs. jeong exclaimed excitingly, and to jaehyun it seemed she was enjoying herself as if she were the one going there too.

“a month?! what am i going to do over there?!”

“isn’t this great? we finally get to see you outdoors instead of a laptop and report papers! you need a break honey.” his mother clasped palms.

“ugh i can manage my time—”

“once you start working i’m pretty sure you won’t have the time to, jaehyun.”

since the love topic was brought up, his parents started to dig out their memories during their dating years. jaehyun groaned and massaged his temples, feeling uncomfortable with all the love stories he already heard or been told about. “did you forget that i have a girlfriend?” mumbling, he let out a deep, long sigh hoping they would hear him. and that failed miserably. his parents were in their own world.

he shook his leg underneath the table and grew impatient with the duration of their conversation. “please, i’m begging you. i’ll get married in my own time and pace. sue and i are pretty much going to settle once we graduate-”

a certain ringtone perked his ears and his hands quickly pat his pockets to search his phone. he let out a sigh of relief, that his girlfriend psychologically read his mind and knew how much he wanted to get out of the dinner table, not to mention his parents’ overly attachment to one another.

“sue you called! i was wondering if you want to hang out for a while.” his voice was high in spirits. but word has it when it reached its high, it would plummet to the ground shortly after. “hey, what’s wrong?”

on the other line, just a call away from his girlfriend, was her held-in sob and whimper. “where are you right now? i’m coming to get you.”

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jaehyun’s limbs shook in anger and slammed his fists onto the stirring wheel so hard that this time he promised himself he would move on. last week, she didn’t just break up with him— that was a call for farewell, something kept well hidden from him and all this time he didn’t know she felt the way she did for the years they’ve spent together.

for a minute he wished this was all a dream, that conscious world would wake his slumber mind. it wasn’t. the reality pretty much awoke him and kept him up all night. he blinked several times, her words still numbing his hearing, wishing it was a lie... but he heard her loud and clear that night.

“...you’ll always have a place in my heart.. but i’m really sorry..”

he grew speechless though his heart had millions of questions. the windows of his lips sealed closed no matter how much he wanted them to be answered. opposite from where he was at, he stared at the porch of her house, waiting for a silhouette to appear before him. instead a luxurious car pulled over and an unfamiliar man took his coat off to wrap around sue. that action didn’t hurt jaehyun, but it was sue’s smile of comfort that triggered his pain more. seemed like she knew this man given that she let him into her house, like nothing heartbreaking happened before this.

the door closed and jaehyun’s teary eyes never left her residence until loud slams of swinging car doors opened on both sides of the passenger’s seats. “tsk.” he hissed and quickly rubbed the tears meaning to fall. him being seen crying would really make him a target for his friends, for not moving on. couldn’t risk being the attention more than he already was.

“goodness mark it’s not like we’re on vacation that you have to pack almost everything,” johnny threw one of mark’s duffle bags at the boy, earning a so-what kind of look from him. “we’ll only bring jae to the y/l/n’s then leave afterwards—”

screw this, jaehyun thought. by now he shouldn’t look too swollen to his friends. but screw mark for renting and living across from his ex’s house.

“save your explanation john.” jaehyun growled and started the engine, fastening his while seatbelt the two continued their bickers. more of it was mark’s shallowness that pissed johnny.

“yeah, save your explanation john- ow!” mark gave the tall lad a death-gazing glare at the pain that stayed on his skin.

johnny leaned forwards, tapping the dimpled boy on the shoulder. “dude, you changed your mind?”

jaehyun scoffed, resting his left arm onto the window’s edge as he drove. “mom said i should be accompanied. i didn’t want you both to come but she’s so insisting it’s getting into my nerves.”

“actually mrs. jeong said you might need us after your sudden breakup,” mark pressed the button. the window rolled up and down whereas him and johnny exchanged looks to try to liven up the mood in the car. “what are friends for, hm?”

“o-oh yeah. you’ll need us.. as in.. ‘sue’pport.” he nodded with a fake sob. soon mark bursted out in giggles and joined the wagon.

“‘cause you lost your ‘sue’weetheart.” “she’s making you ‘sue’per emotional.” “we were ‘sue’prised she dumped you.” “but as your brothers, we ‘sue’wear we’ll be here—”

“ugh! i don’t know why mom suggested you to come but your side comments really aren’t helping at all—” jaehyun rolled his eyes regretting instantly at the pain afterwards.

his friends found him hilarious. they were laughing so hard that jaehyun couldn’t continue or interrupt their exploding voices. “since when did you need help, mr. leave-me-alone?” johnny took a huge leap from his seat to be beside the offended boy. “for all i know you’re the type who wants everything perfect, in control and planned.”

“nah dude, right now..” mark zipped his bag. “he needs help with love issues.”

“this has nothing to do with my love! and for the record, about the y/f/n’s? it’s arranged!” he lowered his cap and slid back slightly against the seat while the car was on idle. “do i need to spell it out for you?”

“that can change dude,” johnny slurped on his giant soda takeaway. jaehyun battered his eyes but was careful enough to not leave his sight off of the road. “who knows this fiancé of yours could meet your expectations. maybe more than sue could ever do.”

jaehyun’s mind clouded and still had the effects from the breakup. still so fresh. he didn’t want to believe it in fact happened; that it was all true. he was sure sue was the one for him. hearing his pals say it word per word only had it finally sunk in— she dumped him.

it terrified him in ways he couldn’t imagine, haunted him countless of nights because he failed her. he even bragged to his parents that he would marry her and slip a ring on her finger. thinking about it, how stupid was he to hold onto that hope?

he looked like an idiot, felt like one and his friends probably viewed the same. they said his fiancé could outstand sue? she was the perfect package! what more could he get?

he had her.

honks of the vehicles behind led jaehyun’s eyes trailing to the stoplight that emitted green. he pulled over and johnny knew he had to take his place.

“here, let me drive. you’re not fit for driving. now, just be comfy back there, okay?”

—

hours later violent jolts of the car hit jaehyun’s cheek, regaining consciousness from his slumber just to witness the beautiful sunrise peeking from the horizon. he sat up, his posture trying to straighten to denumb nerves that held long during his sleep.

his playlist blasted the speakers. johnny had his legs on the dashboard and hummed with the music. mark was still sleeping peacefully like he hadn’t had a care in the world other than his precious bag of unfinished chips in his hands.

he groaned at the discomfort of pulled muscles and the sudden break to the countryside. if johnny needed an hour intervals for the drive he could’ve said so, right? but now they were at the open road, greenery and fields merging together in one land.

“what time is it? where are we and are we there yet? i’ll drive if what you do delays the journey.” jaehyun gestured him to move aside. “johnny, stop eating.” it was quarter to two.

“wha-? i’m hungry. hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to come and yet you’re rushing to get to the y/l/n’s?” johnny unwrapped his second burrito. “besides, we’re only five minutes away—”

“tsk ‘cause i need to piss real bad.” jaehyun was fidgety and panned the view before setting eyes on his friend.

johnny felt a churn in his stomach as his cheeks bubbled. “oh gross! i’m eating dude! if you’re gonna piss then do it outside?!”

jaehyun shoved the burrito into johnny’s mouth to not speak anymore. “rather hold it in than for you to puke in my car!” he held his strength while johnny fought his way to breathe properly. “i won’t piss outside and there are cattles who feed on fields!”

“bruh stop lecturing me with your vet knowledge- ah!” johnny held his forehead from the sudden finger flicking.

“dude, it’s called common sense. now move aside!” he shooed the tall boy off the driver’s seat. jaehyun stepped on the gas, heading towards a small town entrance.

they finally reached a couple of stores & restaurants, surveying and asking its townsmen using your family name to locate your residence. maybe they would know which apartment or house you resided in. except that was the twist of their understanding.

jaehyun and his boys were shocked to know how your family name plastered in posters and brand products displayed at open stores, but were more shocked to see the gazes from the people.

a little over an hour, they managed to get hold of more information as they were told your house was ten minutes away from the town. jaehyun walked along the pavement to grab something to drink, only to be poked by a young man who was around the same age as they were.

“hi.” he greeted the unfamiliar man. “i take it you’re looking for the y/l/n’s?”

he took a squint as he observed jaehyun from head to toe, circling around him. “uh-huh, you look like m’lady’s husband-to-be in the pictures.”

“e-excuse me?” jaehyun cleared his throat, seemingly unwilling to have this conversation going.

mark held his laugh per usual, it would take time to get used to jaehyun stumbling his words.

because the engaged man really wasn’t ready at all.

“yeap he’s the guy.” johnny popped the ‘p’ with a lollipop in his mouth. jaehyun rolled his eyes, taking the candy stick and tossing it away. he didn’t care about johnny’s scoffs.

the new young lad wore his motorcycle helmet. “sweet.” he prolonged the word. and that was when both mark and johnny lost it. they recalled the pun they entertain themselves with prior to arriving here.

“oh, i work with the town’s famous family,” he showed his i.d. wrapped around his neck. “you can follow me since i’m heading there too.” the three quickly twitched at his quick paced movement. “i’m kunhang by the way, but i’d rather be called hendery. it’s my professional name, it just sounds cooler.”

jaehyun furrowed his brows at the praise. “okay hendery, uhm famous? they’re big time?” he pointed at the posters holding your family name. “how so?”

hendery swung his face shield downwards. “you’ll see.”

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gallops of horses were drumming the entire farm. dust and dirt swirled with the wind in the air and it took a while for the boys to adjust their sights at the distance. hendery dropped a couple of spare boots for them to wear. jaehyun was in awe. horses were majestic animals and though he got to study them, he never seen such a number of them on the fields.

“oh goodness me our guest is here!”

they turned around to voice of a jolly lady, an apron on and folded cuffs from her clothing. “hello there! welcome! you must be jaehyun! my soon to be son-in-law!” she shook his hands and later pulled him for a hug. “oh you look just like your mother!”

“hi mrs. y/l/n. y-yeah, i get that a lot these days,” jaehyun scratched his head. “thanks for having us.”

her eyes trailed at mark and johnny, and they too, were pulled in for a hug. “i see jaehyun brought along his handsome friends with him! do enjoy your stay here with us!” she caught a glimpse of a figure approaching the crowd. “c’mere baby and meet the boys!”

jaehyun looked over his shoulder, lips parting and exhaled a short breath. she seemed young, she has a pretty face but obviously still in high school. what the? oh g- i’m marrying you?

“pfft no ew. i’m not getting married to you. i’m only 17.” she let out a chuckle, almost sarcastic enough for jaehyun to explode.

crap i said it unconsciously.

your mother lightly slapped her arm. “marg, where’s your sister?” she asked. “i told her to specifically come at the barn 1600.”

“she took jet for a ride. ‘detour’ she said, but i guess she’s on her way here.” she replied and mark choked on his water bottle. marg rolled her eyes. “green minded ass-”

“language marg!” hendery flicked her forehead, the latter held the pain. “the rudeness. sorry, kiddo here is the family’s baby. you’ll see the eldest daughter soon- oh! right on time m’lady!” he waved his hands up high.

jaehyun didn’t know what pissed him off more; one was at himself for being starstruck and in awe at you after his breakup, and two?

the beautiful black horse you were riding on didn’t seem to be halting. it was trotting at first. you were on its saddle. he squinted his eyes, were you smirking? unbelievable. he thought you were doing this on purpose. no, you were really going to run him over.

he noticed a change in speed, trotting then galloping on dirt. the sounds of it matched with the beatings of his rising heart. jaehyun took a step back, then it became more than one, until he was worried that he would end up being chased. there were couple of gasps and reminders of voices. he fell on his bum with palms hitting the ground as he breathed heavily, eyes still on you.

the horse listened to your rein, it let out a loud neigh with its front legs heavenwards. your laugh merged with it. “whoa- hey, easy jet, easy.” you cooed the animal, soon removing your helmet and hair flowed like those in shampoo commercials. “i think he got the message.”

jaehyun sat there dumbfounded, his brows drew together. what message? you were centimetres from killing him- wait. he saw you turn cold and your smile disappearing.

bingo! he got it. he knew the reason why you did this.

you were against the arranged marriage too.

johnny leaned into mark’s ear, who had his hands cupping his lower face. “bro, jet’s a horse so stop giggling and clean your mind.”

“dude i’m not laughing at that. just look at jae. i’ve never seen him so helpless.” he cackled a laugh.

once your feet were on the ground, he finally got a better look on you. you were wearing a light wooled grey sweater with denim blue jeans. your hair now on one side and boots stained with dried mud. you took off your gloves to put your hand out for a handshake, one rested around your helmet. “hi, i’m y/n.” you greeted with a smile, ensuring it was fake enough for jaehyun to notice.

“quite of an entrance.” jaehyun dusted his jeans and groaned at the exerted strength as he stood. “jeong jaehyun. veterinary medicine student..” he was about to grab your hand until you shoved yours into the pockets of your jeans.

“y/n!” your mom exclaimed with warning. “your manners-” she clamped her lips when you put up a hand, eyes darting at her later at him.

“alright, okay. look mr. i didn’t ask for your field of study and i don’t need to know or do anything with you.”

jaehyun crossed his arms, a fake smile plastered on his face. what an attitude. “apparently you will? because i’m here for the next thirty days.”

“is that so?” you hummed and jaehyun didn’t like how you singsonged.

he knew something was coming and sometimes he thought it was best to keep quiet instead of letting his annoyance towards you spark up. “good, that means you’re helping me out with everything i do here.” he heard you say. “and do things i tell you to.”

“what?” his eyebrows snapped, and for you it was quite entertaining to see this reaction from him. following the trail of your footsteps, jaehyun stomped on wet soil as he stood before you. “hey you can’t just order me around like i’m your staff!”

“of course i can, you’re in my property-” you gestured the land.

“no, it belongs to your parents.” the tone of his voice irked you. he was grinning too.

“i can do whatever i want and choose whenever to help. i’ll only listen orders from mr. and mrs. y/l/n if they want me to do work..” he trailed off, your mother waving at him with admiration— typical as she saw him like an long lost son. “..but i guess not. my mom did say i needed a break from studying too much and she’s totally right. i must be pardoned from labour.”

it was your turn to cross arms and give him a lop-sided smile. the audacity of this man. you felt like ripping all your hair out. “you think staying here would prevent you from doing labour, your highness? sitting on your throne all dignified and at peace? well guess what, just because you’re a guest that doesn’t mean you get to be treated differently-”

you heard him bubble out a forced snicker. what was it this time? “of course it’s different! i am the guy you’re betrothed to-”

“i won’t allow it.” your jaw tightened with lips in a hard line. “a person like you is not worth my time and definitely not someone i’d want to marry.”

he pursed his lips. “wow do people ever tell you how bad of a host you are? you just don’t go shoving assumptions into people’s faces for your own entertainment. we’re humans.”

“i’m only rude to you. and yeah, people are humans. but you’re the devil’s incarnate.” you pulled jet’s reins and led him to the stables in which jaehyun observed how you gave that same smirk from earlier. “see if you’ll enjoy your stay here, hubby.”

jaehyun clenched his fists and was sure little crescent moons already indented his palms. he only wanted sue to call him that. yet that was useless, they broke up. your face remained in his head and anger filled him up, now boiling so much that he felt a little lightheaded arguing with someone like you.

he wanted to yell but johnny and mark sandwiched him between them with hendery walking in front. “tsk it’s only the first day and i want to go home.” he scrunched his nose.

hendery had his palms behind his head, lips jutting to hold his grin. “m’lady—” he corrected himself. “y/n’s not usually like that. it’s a first seeing her so cranky and hotheaded.”

“really? how is she usually like?” mark asked with curiosity. “she seems cool because she smiled at johnny and me before the tables.. y’know, turned.” he shrugged with implications towards jaehyun.

“not cranky and not hotheaded.” hendery opened the door to your house, showing them to the large living area. “a lil’ different today but i tell you, our y/n is a professional equestrian. she’s passionate with what she does and—”

“a horse rider?! passionate?!” jaehyun hissed as he took off his shoes and brown coat, kicking it slightly to the side and hung it on the wall respectively. “she almost killed me!”

johnny hit the back of jaehyun’s head and clicked his tongue. “snap out of it jae, you’re overreacting. we’re at your future in-law’s residence and i think it’s a bad idea to badmouth their daughter.”

only a low groan escaped out of jaehyun as he refused to listen. “look, first impressions don’t always hit off a good start. but thinking how you both don’t have a say to this arranged marriage, your feelings towards each other are totally understandable.”

jaehyun pressed the bridge of his nose as he took in his friend’s words. if what johnny said was true, was it right for him to begin holding grudge on you on the first day? you barely knew each other. clearly he knew you hated him, yet if his parents were here and saw the whole thing, they’d ask: why risk the chance of not trying? and again, he remembered he was told, people can change.

—

throughout dinner, he got to know what your family business was and why it was well-known. he didn’t ask questions, they were just told to him like they were comfortable with it. they weren’t bragging either. perhaps it was due to the fact jaehyun would soon be part of this family that they told him the entire story.

you didn’t show up during the hour and honestly it got jaehyun feeling so much relief since he wouldn’t have to deal with another useless argument. he disliked wasting time and preferred to do this schedule accordingly, so remembering it only made him rage inside. he was glad he wouldn’t have to deal with you tonight.

except that relief was shortlived. you had to appear right when he thought of you.

great.

he tried to fix himself in his seat on the sofa by the fireplace, averting his gaze upon you while your mother continuously slapped you light on the arms. you probably finished your bath, given that you still have a towel wrapped around your head and a.. robe.

“y/n! have some courtesy! we have guests!” your mother warned as she gestured in front to cover you, apologising to the new boys. hendery immediately stepped in as well, his eyes shutting to a close and pushing you back to the bottom of the staircase.

“but mom! i’m hungry and there might not have any cookies left if you keep giving it to them-” you were cut off with hendery’s pats.

he brushed his hair. sighing, he had to shoo you away because you were clearly attracting eyes, definitely not the decent kind. “i have a jar prepared for you m’lady so please.. get dressed!”

you quickly ran up as you were told, mumbling and complaining. jaehyun and his friends were definitely at a loss for words. because not only were you careless, you were oblivious too.

mark scrunched his nose to start a conversation with jaehyun. “looks like she called you ‘hubby’ too quickly.” he closed his lips to contain his laugh.

“pfft jae your ears really are honest huh?” johnny pointed at them as he held his chest, fistbumping mark for another win.

he wasn’t going to tell them that he in fact did find you pretty, and the thing was, he shouldn’t be giving a reaction too soon. “it’s the spicy chocolate cookie!” jaehyun defended.

“huh, i didn’t bake any cookie with those flavour-” hendery pondered, but he stopped since he spotted jaehyun begging to help him here.

“you know that we know if you’re lying right?” the two squinted eyes, putting more pressure to the boy to admit what he felt when he saw you earlier. “bet ya felt something.”

afraid that your family could hear them, jaehyun grabbed their shoulders to huddle them in close. he cleared his throat to catch their attention, yet his friends continued their giggles. “i swear if you both embarrass me in front of the y/f/n’s, consider the days with your precious.. phones.”

“ah c’mon dude. don’t do that. we bought our i12’s together-” mark whined.

“then at least help me out here guys. i have a reputation to hold-”

“oh for being her hubby?” johnny gave a playful grin and soon was replaced with a nervous smile. “okay i’ll zip it.”

he heard your mother facetiming his mom, voices loud enough for him to know that there would be a huge gathering at christmas eve dinner. great, another one i have to deal with.

jaehyun put down his beanie and crossed his arms to snooze for a bit. he had too much going on in his head the whole day that maybe sleeping it off would let him calm down from all feelings he felt tonight. on the sofa, the weight beside him lowered, the scent of freshly baked cookies along with lavender perfume got him peeking under his beanie.

it was you, who looked like a squirrel happily munching away with your jar of cookies whilst eyes glued to the television.

he smiled a little to himself. so you can have this cute side-

fragments of sue’s face appeared in his mind. right. he was supposed to be heartbroken. he still was. a week into the breakup had remains to his heart. bothered with sue’s ultimatum and your annoying munches, he grabbed your wrists and out at the veranda.

it pissed him because it seemed like he was the only one who cared about both of your futures or actually would do something to change your families’ minds, where as you were carefree with your cookies. “hey!” you held the jar tight in your arms as you quickly slid your feet into your slippers. “rude! i’m eating!”

the rest of the people in the dining and kitchen area grew voices of woohoo’s, jaehyun’s pupils flared at their cheers. “just come with me for a second!” he hissed, turning the knob and closing the door.

“seriously jaehyun you can’t just ruin my happy time! what do you want-”

he looked in between the curtains from the outside, where he could faintly hear his friends talking the embarrassing things about him— especially how he felt for this arrange marriage. “aren’t you pressured or angry at the situation our parents have put us into?” he leaned against a column. “even my friends are joining the wagon.”

you cackled whilst scrolling your phone. “here i thought you only cared about animals, dr. jeong.” hearing how jaehyun scoffed at your comment, you shoved your device in your pockets. “and yes of course i’m mad! what they decided is so against my will.”

jaehyun stared at you and surprised that he actually felt exactly the same. “really? then let’s make a pact. sounds good?” he offered with arms folded while you still were occupied with your phone. “well?”

“why would i listen to you? as far as i know, we already clashed and hate each other.” you rolled your eyes. “what makes you think i’ll agree?”

he sighed. “y/n, i know you don’t want this, i don’t too. at least there’s something we have in common. i’m just thinking that we have to show them we’re not meant to be together. we both have lives we want to live without the other.”

there was a change in his voice. you could tell he was serious and trying to suggest something he’d want you to agree on. “fine, what’s the pact?” you gave an uninterested tone. probably a bad idea, you thought.

“like you said, ‘clash and hate each other’. we have exactly twenty four days to convince them that you, me, us?” he pointed at his chest then yours. “is impossible. twenty four days, it’s until the night of christmas eve.”

actually that’s not bad at all. “hm, that’s easy since i can’t stand you.” you said, now standing up to face him. “even better if we can do this in less than 24.”

“cool, we have to make our fights as natural as possible. no signals or heads-up. full-on make me angry and i’ll do the same. the more we argue the more they’ll believe there’ll never be an ‘us’.” his voice a bit lively than before. “i want my buds to be fooled into this too. just be realistic and- nghf!”

you shoved a huge cookie into his mouth. “tsk, you’re noisy. i get you so shut up. i agreed with the pact, but i have conditions, okay?”

jaehyun nodded as he chewed angrily with his eyes closed, though the cookies’ taste might’ve simmered down his temper towards you. “ha, then i have conditions too-”

“see you in the morning.” he heard you say as the door slammed with the attached bell ringing his ears.

now that was one of his conditions; no interrupting while he talks. he sighed seeing you head up the stairs. he sighed. “ugh, i can never marry a girl like her.”

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stretching as high as you can, the muscles loosened in every part of your body from riding yesterday. the sun shone its brightest despite the cold weather. you remembered the pact and you knew you would not let a day pass without bothering him. somehow his existence annoyed you to the bone, not even words were enough to explain how you felt.

at the farthest point your peripheral could reach, you spotted jaehyun peacefully— and actually enjoying— the hammock whilst faintly you heard mark and johnny debating which pronunciation was the correct one. fixing your boots as you walked towards them, the two scurried off to the side, noticing the stomps of your feet getting closer.

“get up.” you wriggled the hammock, causing it to be lop-sided.

jaehyun managed to balance himself from the swings. “what the-” his voice hitched. “you’re ruining my relax time!”

you pretended to ponder as you looked up to the sky. “hm, sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?” referring to his sudden action towards you the night prior.

“seriously y/n what do you want? i’m in no mood to do work today and i clearly told you last night-” jaehyun fixed his eyes onto your finger that silenced his lips.

jaehyun raised a brow and rolled his eyes. what was your deal? he thought. “condition number one.” you started, bringing your voice down. “starting today you’ll do the work for me and with me. considering you’re taking veterinary science, i’m guessing you know your ways through equine husbandry. so in the coming days you can check the horses’ health while i practice my rounds.”

ah, so that’s what this was about. “uh-huh, but my condition number one is you shouldn’t make me do labour unless you really need it.” jaehyun got off the hammock, chugging his glass of water like it’s one-shot. “it’s the first light, y/n. my service starts in the afternoon.”

“i see. you’re not a morning person.” you checked your nails.

“i so am! but it’s my month long vacation. let me enjoy this before i experience exploitation from you.” he forced a smile that made you want to push him off the veranda.

you walked down the steps and straight to the barn opposite from your house. “it’s either exploitation today or exploitation for the whole month.” you singsonged while you twirled in your stance. hearing him growl meant your tactic worked. “i’ll let you experience the beauty of country side, city boy.”

jaehyun’s brows narrowed as he followed you anyway, later looking back at his friends who were stifling a laugh. “did you just compare me to feces first thing in the morning?”

“did you just boggle up my brain with scientific terms?” you hid a giggle when you heard his friends finally bursting out and losing it. because they too, experienced jaehyun’s sudden blabber of uncommon usage of words, especially conversational-wise. “i made a pun but it seems like you acknowledge the nickname.”

“i did not!” jaehyun pressed his temples. “i may have misheard you but i didn’t acknowledge it! you’re too assuming!”

“mhm sure.. but you are stepping on one though.” you whistled and gestured mark and johnny to the stables.

jaehyun grumbled as he checked the soles of his shoes. indeed he stepped on it and licked his lips in annoyance that it’d be hard to clean it off. the door opened and hendery’s morning face only turned sour at the unsightly view. he tossed another pair of spare boots for him to wear before they both headed to where you all were.

hendery introduced the things they do here; feed the horses, fix their saddles repair them if damaged. they were minor things since your family did hire people to do them. and since you and him were professionals in equine sports, he mentioned you both spend all days practicing.

good, if it was you who toured him around the area, he wouldn’t think lasting a day with your intentions of ruining his mood. though it was part of the pact, it seemed like you enjoyed this a lot more than he expected. hendery brought him to places your family owned, land properties that expanded until the mountains. it’s no wonder you were free to roam around and unafraid of getting lost.

you made him do a lot. and he was glad he was able to handle, thank heavens. however he didn’t feel much of a challenge from any of them, where you claimed they were ones he couldn’t do. jaehyun lost track of time, the sky was his only companion to tell the hours and probably lost count of the tasks too. all he could remember was the endless bickering, yells and frequent eye rolls.

in all those, he still let you off the hook— first day of work and all, he has to be patient. and he wasn’t bothered with what you tasked him to do, until his friends stood behind you as you showed them the rest of the horses.

after you told him to move the bundles of hay he thought was the last, you were currently trying to make mark pet the horses as they were bobbing their heads towards the young man while johnny recorded his reaction.

“isn’t she all well now.” jaehyun rolled his eyes as he helped hendery lift the infinite bundles. “my friends get the leisure and i have to work?”

hendery laughed as he unbuttoned his collar. “she was told by her mom that you’ll be in her care since you both will get married eventually. plus mrs. y/f/n said it’s a way to get to know y/n too.” he explained, seeing you walk towards them with a hay cart, hands signalling your childhood friend to get some bundles from you. the final bundles were finally fed to the horses, and you skipped your feet to fetch jaehyun.

jaehyun knew you had intentions to make fun of him because the way you walked really pissed him off. so he decided to have his fun too. ”are you that weak you’re unable to carry a small patch? guess my hourly pay needs an increase.” he low-key flexed his muscles. truthfully speaking it was a sight to look at, too bad his attitude didn’t match it.

you rested on one leg while you look at him. he was testing the waters with you, smile slowly resurfacing as you gave even the slightest reaction towards him. oh it’s on. he annoyed you yesterday and would be a lot more in the next coming days. jaehyun leaned forwards that he was towering over you. his body made you feel small but that didn’t stop you from getting back at him.

“the only thing increasing for you is workload.” you hummed, putting back the cart into its place.

he glared at you as if you were dead meat. you ignored him. “i’ve had enough for today. muscles are sore.” hands in his pockets, jaehyun kicked the remains of hay off his shoes before he was stopped by you. “ugh you’re so annoying.” he clicked his tongue.

“nope, you’re not done until i am. we have to find materials for christmas wreaths at my grandpa’s up north.” you pointed at the mountains as you took hendery’s hands and soon mounted on jet with him.

“oh and i’m supposed to walk there while you’re so relaxed miss bossy?” jaehyun shook his head in disbelief looking at the distance.

“uh yes?” you laughed to yourself. “i don’t think you’ve ever ridden a horse before, but if ever you did, it’s probably at a carnival.”

sudden outbursts of emotions evident on his face now. “was i born under a rock? of course i’ve ridden!” he took the reins given to him by hendery. “and it’s not a carousel!”

for a while he had a certain confidence, his soles stepping on the stirrup and dimples deepening with the strength he gave to put his right leg over. but once that was done and high up off the ground, his heart beat an army per second. cash, hendery’s horse gave loud neigh. jaehyun had done this before as a child and definitely felt like one now. he should be able to handle a 30-minute journey.

jaehyun heard you giggling, perhaps he knew how hideous he looked. despite hendery seated behind you, you led the way for the most part of the ride. you were surprised to see jaehyun have gotten the hang of it. it pissed you a lot because he was vlogging with his phone— sputtering out words to keep the diss battle going. johnny and mark hopped on the available bikes, cycling on your sides, and their laughter rather calmed you than annoy you.

it pissed you a lot more because you’ve practically ran out of ideas to tell him in return. keeping quiet wasn’t your forte, you were a young woman with plenty of things to say, even more so to jaehyun. going through the woods, you signalled hendery to halt the horse for you and the rest of the boys followed you to gather the materials needed.

“this shouldn’t be too long to take.” jaehyun looked at the trees towering meters above him, then straight to you who was shaking head in disbelief. “we’re just taking the materials at your grandfather’s and head back, right?”

“did i mention my granddad?” you balanced yourself on large wood log. the tone of your voice started to warm up with bickers you weren’t able to tell him.

“you did!” jaehyun anticipated this and somehow he didn’t. “now lead the way to his place and we can get the hell out of here.” his eyes grew squints of disgust at his surroundings, as if he hadn’t been into the forest before. his friends went on ahead with hendery around the woods to look for what’s needed.

“nah, we’re picking acorns, pine cones, berries and other leaves by hand. his cottage is just around here but that doesn’t mean the materials are from him. let’s go, whiney.”

“oh my g-” jaehyun pulled you on the arm and off you went towards him. “y/n i’ve had enough for today and i’m so tired of taking your orders- i’m physically tired of doing things your way and i can’t think straight-”

“pecans?” you said as his eyes crossed to see your palms full of the shelled nuts. “you’re hungry, aren’t you? that’s why you’re so cranky and agitate-y.” placing one but onto a flat rock, you smashed it strong enough for it to crack yet not totally destroying the inside. you popped one into your mouth and gave the most taunting grin jaehyun has seen from you all day.

he was about to grab the rest of the nuts until you swung your arm that he wasn’t able to reach them. “y/n! give me some!” he yelled and the rest of your friends look at you both after hearing you laugh in the most evil manner.

“never!” you scurried off deeper into the woods. jaehyun rolled his eyes not at how fast you were, but due to how slow he actually was because of the amount of disgust he had.

he knew this would take all day and he didn’t know how long his patience can take for another three weeks with you.

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jaehyun couldn’t describe in words with what he experienced since arriving. if he had to compare with school, it was similar to studying and cramming for hours non-stop. it gotten him mentally exhausted, physically too. but the only difference between being cooping up in his room and doing work outdoors was the continuous nagging from you.

it was far from quiet. he could handle his mom’s high pitched yells. but you? anything that came from you or done by you made him want to plaster a duck tape on your lips. you were as annoying as a five year old child who looked for someone vulnerable to bully. unfortunately he became your prey because he was in your lands. and though there were times he was able to banter back, he always felt you still had the upper hand.

it was all sunny and good days out in the countryside and jaehyun found that fact the only bright side. he enjoyed it every single morning. yet sometimes good sunny mornings meets its bad, that is, when grey clouds destroyed the beauty of the sky. in this case, it was you. you were far from his dream girl— sue. she was elegant, poised and had a heart of gold. you were the complete opposite who’d rather be rogue and do things your way. other than completing ten christmas wreaths and feeding the horses or more farm work, he couldn’t remember what he did for the past eight days because all that entered his mind was the dictator you.

but today he felt different, maybe things wouldn’t be as hard than last week. he felt good. he sat at the long dining table with all morning faces exposed. it was currently 7 a.m and your mom have already prepared breakfast. and per usual, you were the only one they waited for before they start the first meal.

“marg, is your sister still asleep?” your mother put down a large casserole to warm up everyone’s stomach in winter.

marg only shrugged because for one, she didn’t care, and two, she stated that it wouldn’t be her doing this since jaehyun was marrying you. “oh jaehyun. please do head upstairs to her room and awake y/n up.”

“and why do i have to do this?” jaehyun mumbled to himself and johnny nudged him on the arm. he groaned and got up, his stomps were heavy and unwilling.

once he was in front of your door, he knocked twice loudly so he wouldn’t have to spend so much time to get you. there was a small tune playing in your room, like it was from a music box. the door was already opened. he peeped through the thin gap, seeing you still sleeping soundly. goodness’ sake, he thought, and entered the room since your mother was asking if he woken you up.

your room was in fact, neat. all things were organised and arranged. if there was one thing he learned from you other than being an ass, was that you loved stuffed animals. not a hint of dolls or barbies or any toy displayed related to that spectrum. two lines of medals displayed and they all shone in gold. plaques had your names and young portraits of you with smiles of victory. hendery wasn’t lying when he said you were a professional. he wasn’t going to lie— you were impressive despite the little horns coming out of your head.

he stood next to your bed where you were all bundled in a huge blanket. he raised a brow, it was strange for you to have two thick blankets covering you. “hey y/n.”

no response.

“y/n. wake up, your mom is calling for breakfast and you’re usually the first one seated at the table.” he wriggled your body with the butt of the umbrella and you didn’t budge.

“she baked croissants and aren’t they your favourite? dipped in chocolate ganache and sprinkles?” he tried sounding happy. note that, he tried.

this girl.. he bit the insides of his lips, spotting the markers in a cylinder container and took one to begin drawing on your face. his soft giggles filled your room and the strong scent of markers met your nostrils, waking you from your slumber.

“what the he- jaehyun?!” you hissed at how close his face was to yours, failed to realising he was done drawing on your morning skin. “get away from me!”

everyone downstairs could hear the both of you, arguing like cats and dogs. each footstep might’ve covered the entire floor above them and the ceiling could give in.

“you ruined my morning with your ugly face!” “what?! you’re more ugly, ugly!” “you entered my room?! you have no rights!” “breakfast’s ready and your mom asked me to!” “well my nose could’ve smelled mom’s food but i smelled your stinky breath instead!”

“whatever, i finished your share of croissants!” jaehyun quickly head down the staircase.

“you dare eat my food?!” you still had a blanket from head to toe as you followed him down. “no one takes my food!”

“your loss since you’re still in bed you lazy ass!” jaehyun sat beside johnny and continued his meal. “and you were snoring loud too-”

“i did not- agh!” you grumpily sat and immediately eyed the last croissant sitting at the center of the table. all eyes were on you with black ink scribbled on your face.

there was an awkward silence then you felt jaehyun’s stare at the only food you wanted for breakfast. there was a back and forth battle of stares between you, him and the food. maybe it was the slow reflexes you have in mornings that jaehyun took the bread before you did. he stuck out a tongue as he deliciously ate half of it, chewing slowly just to let you imagine the flavours of sweet silky chocolate. you could feel yourself drooling and the cravings of your stomach rising up to your throat. every chew he did was a stab to your guilty-pleasure heart.

jaehyun stopped and gave a smug grin. “you wanted this y/n?” his question sounding a song rather than an honest one. “all you have to do is beg.”

you gulped, rolling your eyes. “shut up!” you kicked his knee out of jealousy and savoured the soup instead.

“ow!” he hissed through a laugh and looked at your mom. “mrs. y/f/n, i’d like to know the recipe for this. do you give lessons?” jaehyun licked the remains of chocolate around his lips, hopefully it was enough to cover up the violence you did under the table.

your mother giggled at his sweet talk. “why learn it from me when you have y/n to teach you?”

you choked on your soup and tear your gaze away from jaehyun to your mother, where she was already enjoying your shocked reaction. “oh give me a private lesson, bulldog terrier.” he propped his chin and mimicked clicks as if he was calling animal.

you quickly touched and rubbed your face to see the ink contaminate your fingers. the spoon reflected the dark circle around your right eye. “oh my g- you! this will be hard to remove!” the fork around your hand pointed directly at him.

“y/n!” hendery put down your wrists as jaehyun laughed loud. you took the wet wipes marg gave you and whined a little whilst you stood by the mirror behind jaehyun.

“don’t be so bummed out honey.” your mom assured, giving a wink to jaehyun. “it’s a small prank. marg did it to you before.”

checking yourself for the last time at the mirror, you rolled your eyes. “i have enough patience for marg,” with one hand you cupped jaehyun’s lower face from the chin spreading to the cheeks, soon pinching hard on his dimples with a pointer finger and thumb. “but none for the human bread.”

“ow don’t touch me!” jaehyun swifted his head to look at you and he saw you flashed a smile like you were satisfied.

“a human bread with molds. ew, i lost appetite so i’ll be out for a ride.” you stood up to grab your coat. “see ya ugly.”

“remember to you have to clean the barn house y/n!” your mom called out.

“yeah got that!”

johnny and mark bent their heads down and let their friends suffer from multiple dots on his faces. what made it funnier was that jaehyun munched happily on his meal, hadn’t gotten a single clue. he then eyed you when you passed the window and straight to the stables. “isn’t it too early for practice?” he drank his cup of hot chocolate.

“she can ride all day. sometimes she doesn’t arrive home and the next morning you see her sleeping in the barn house.” marg tied her hair into a high bun. “the amount of dedication is there, except the passion she used to have isn’t really there anymore- hey!” she glared at hendery who gave her a warning look.

what was that all about? jaehyun thought while his eyebrows met together and good thing it wasn’t obvious to your family. he was indeed curious, but he’d rather hear it from you than to look like a jerk who wanted to gossip about personal lives. the thing was, it’s you. though majority of the week was him suffering with workload, he liked to bicker with you until you gave up and had nothing to say.

so far he recorded as 5-11 in terms of owning the other. the latter was his score and he was proud of it.

hendery’s phone vibrated and slid it to jaehyun’s place. jaehyun blinked to adjust his sight to the brightness of the phone. a sigh came out of his lips and the rest of them could tell it was another order from you. “ooh that doesn’t sound good.” mark slurped his soup.

“it’s not.” jaehyun brushed his hair and hesitation slowly crept his body. “she asked me to clean the upper floor of the barn by the time she arrives.”

—

jaehyun massaged his wrists by twisting them. he looked at the barn house’ entrance because he noticed a figure approaching. you’ve had the best morning after jaehyun ruined it. as you rode, nothing beats the freshness of the cool wind. you love riding through the woods and grasslands. it sets you free from everything keeping you caged. your smile began to falter when you saw jaehyun who was not even halfway close to finishing. “you’re late. your mom had to apologise on your behalf because i’m doing the job for you.”

“ooh thanks! i’ll count on it!” you laid comfortably on a chair.

“hey!”

you leaned against the furniture, arms crossed where he was a floor above and standing at your 2 o’clock view. “dr. jeong it looks like you’re having a hard time. need help?” you stifled a laugh because he still has the ink marks you left on his face.

“on with the assumptions again, aren’t we?” he fixed his gloves and moved wooden planks from one place to another.

“yeah you make yourself too easy of a target, jaehyun. and i thought you’re the type to not take things seriously.” you tied jet’s reins to a pole.

“you’re forgetting my condition number two, you can only badmouth me if the others are around. now get your flat butt up here and move the tool box aside so i can continue what i’m doing.” he grunted whilst lifting.

dusting your pants, you were now standing a storey high. the sight of the height below you made you sick. jaehyun nudged your arm and you took the items blocking his way. you sighed and he noticed how fidgety you were. he put up a small smile. his entertainment from you didn’t end at the breakfast table.

he scooted closer to you, pretending to bump into you with the pile of tall wooden planks in his arms. he heard you hiss, and that was the signal to begin. “oops didn’t see you there shorty.” there was a change in his voice, a more aggressive type of approach.

“you’re doing that on purpose.” you checked the pained area of your forearm.

“what if i’m not? it could be an honest mistake.” he tilted his head away from the wood to see you.

a held-in soft disbelief laugh came out of your lips. “honesty doesn’t really blend in well with you.”

jaehyun gasped with arched brows. “wow i’m very offended— you think this face..” he largely gestured himself. “would ever lie?”

“if you want to hear me saying you’re handsome.. it’s not happening.“ you took the rope to hang on a nail.

“but you did say it.” he singsonged and you could push him off the loft but that could only happen in your head.

“then that’s an honest mistake.” you flashed a forced smile at him. you carried the boxes stacked upon one another. “if you have a huge ego like that i bet you never dated. no girl would ever date you.”

jaehyun fell silent, his mood to bash you suddenly changed. the shifts in his steps became heavier and as if he was putting his anger upon them. he didn’t like being reminded of sue, even if you unconsciously did so. “can’t you just keep quiet as you work? do you always have something to say? keep your damn mouth shut if you think all the fun you get is from belittling people.”

“okay sheesh sorry i didn’t know you have a heart for people too.” you removed your helmet to relieve the discomfort from it.

as time passed— two hours to be exact, the more your guilt begin to seep in you. jaehyun never spoke after that. silence was like death at this point. not a hint of sniffs and sighs from him. did you go too far that he actually chose not to talk anymore? all you thought about was the pact he suggested. what now? anyone could appear any moment.

this wasn’t like you at all. you hesitated to talk to him and to give the first move to bicker. you stood there staring at him piling boxes after boxes and sweeping the floor where dust accumulated like piles of sand. you bit your lips because screw this, you hated this atmosphere, you hated this silent treatment. “j-jaehyun?” you called out.

nothing.

“hey-”

“hm? guilt eating you up now?” you froze at his voice as he chuckled. “it has, hasn’t it? look at your face!” he was laughing, his hands holding his ballooning stomach. “y/n you should’ve seen yourself!”

your gaze followed his hands that quickly took his phone placed at one corner. he was recording and your obliviousness blinded you. “oh you have no idea how much i wanted to laugh! my cheeks hurt so bad! hahaha!”

“you’re not using that to blackmail me!” you strided towards him.

he put his arm high as you struggled to reach it. “i might as well do that thanks for the idea!” faintly you heard his friends coming to check as to why their friend had the laughter of the century, only to find you both bickering again like this morning.

“delete that video jaehyun! i mean it!” “not until you agree to clean the loft!” “that’s like telling me to do everything!” “then that’s exactly what i’m telling you to do!”

johnny put up his phone to recording the struggling you and jaehyun enjoying his time to take advantage of his height. “dude i’ve never seen jaehyun this happy since sue broke up with him.”

“yeah his dimples are legit showing it’s scary me.” mark squinted at the two of you.

jaehyun swung his arms to avoid your attempted catches. he scrunched his nose and although that was undeniably cute, you couldn’t afford to feel humiliated for another two weeks. “jaehyun please delete it!”

“it’s not convincing enough you know?” “stop joking around we could fall!” you hissed. “fall?! then stop trying to get my phone!” “then put down your ridiculously long arm!” “yours are just too short!” “i swear— delete the footage!”

“you have to sound like you beg for it—” he cackled and with a few stretches you managed to reach his wrists as you lunged forwards. “oi stop!” that one last reach only made jaehyun lose his balance and fell backwards.

and all you heard were yells of worry.

to say that you both gladly fell on soft pillows of hay was an understatement. at least that what it looked like to your friends. jaehyun was shocked, his arm felt numb. he took a good look at you and there you were laying on his arm with pale lips. “hey, you okay?” his hands were already out to help you. “y/n—”

“m’lady!” hendery rushed to you, causing jaehyun to flinch at the tone of his voice. he gently took your right arm, but you gritted your teeth and asked him to take the left. “painful?”

“not that serious.” you said, feeling the stares from jaehyun. “ew don’t look at me like that. i’m fine, really. let’s just call it a day.” you gave a small smile and he wasn’t buying it.

because jaehyun saw you clung onto hendery for dear life.

#jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #nct 127 #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun #jaehyun nct #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun au #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun writings #jaehyun imagines

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the-darklings · 4 years

Text

—𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞;

⤫ pairing: johnny silverhand x corp!v(ermillion)

⤫ summary: Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them.

⤫ word count: 2.3k+

⤫ warnings: spoilers for act i & side mission the ballad of buck ravers, third person but can be read as RI ig, swearing, written in one sitting so who knows what the final result is - certainly not me.

⤫ notes: let me leave my clown shoes outside.

It starts out the way it always does.

One ring leads to another and she suddenly finds herself running or driving around the Night City with little to no rest, pulling one job after another. The more jobs she closes the more she seems to be in demand.

Good for business. Good for making a name for herself, too, but not so good on her overall being.

She’s been running. Like a fucking coward. Filing her days with meaningless shit while trying desperately not to think about her ticking clock. About Jackie.

Guilt gnaws on her bones daily. She should have done more, been better, more careful. Jackie never should have died. It was stupid and blind ambition that drove them both to try and pull this near impossible heist in the first place. Her own reckless drive has blinded her, and now the person closest to her in this fucking city is nothing more than a cold corpse.

Fuck.

She should have sent him to his family instead. She only wanted to spare them from the grief of having to see Jackie in the state he was in but now Araska has his body and god knows what those assholes might be doing with it.

And now…

Well she has nothing to lose, does she? She’s already dying, already hunted, her only close friend is dead. She promised to make him proud. Make it to the big leagues or make a league all on her own if that’s what it takes. Bleed this city dry if that’s the price to pay for what she wants.

Back when she worked for Arasaka she wanted knowledge which led to power. Then she wanted guns and money and a roof over her head.

Now she wants something more. After coming face to face with her own fragile morality, she has begun to realise how meaningless things like money and power are. Now she wants to surpass that. To become something immortal—something that will outlive her body. Maybe even outlive this city.

Jackie should have been one of such people.

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself,” a voice drawls from beside her, a crackle filling the air as a too familiar silhouette of a man appears in her sight. “Or cry.”

“Fuck off.”

V turns away from one Johnny Silverhand because it’s hard to look at him and not be reminded of the fact that she’s slowly dying and the construct only she can see and hear is the one doing the deed.

“This self-pitying bullshit needs to stop,” he says, ignoring her vicious words. “We share a brain, remember? I feel what you feel. It’s downright depressing in your head right now.”

Her jaw clicks at the reminder. Everyday she wakes up and feels like they’re linked by a bridge—he stands on one side, and she on another. When they come closer, she can feel it—feel him. The overlap is near dizzying, overwhelming, even a little addictive. But it’s always followed by agony because she fights back, tries to shove him away. If not, he will consume her, but she will get him out of her head before that ever happens.

You share a brain now, Vik had told her only days prior, his eyebrows knitted tight and—albeit subdued—but clear worry in his low voice, senses and memories, even perception. Eventually it will become impossible to tell whose who anymore.

The worst thing is the fact that he’s right.

She can feel Silverhand rooted inside her; a constant, a presence that is persistent to a point she knows she’s not alone even if she wishes to be.

An echo of a being deep inside her.

“Then get the hell out,” she bites back, fighting to keep her temper leashed so she doesn’t burst out at him like she did at the diner. She can still remember the wary stares she received from the diners when she started shouting verbally at a figment only she could perceive in the first place. “I didn’t ask for a parasite to make himself home in my brain.”

Johnny scoffs under his breath, raising a cigarette to his mouth, and she’s nearly overcome with need to remind him that he’s fucking dead, and can’t smoke. That, and the fact that she would prefer him to leave her the fuck alone.

“You did the job, didn’t ya? You sure you didn’t have this comin’?”

Flipping him off, she storms past him, her jaw clenched to appoint it aches and eyes narrowed. Just her luck not only to get stuck with a human tumour but for the said tumour to be a bastard to boot.

So much for being buddies.

Sun has set over Westbrook hours ago yet Chinatown is as busting with life as always. Overflowing with conversations all spoken in different languages, smells, distant gunshots, and people from all walks of life just trying to survive. Even during her years with the Arasaka, she never quite got used to the vastness of the Night City—not even when she was sure she was at the top. The way this city seems to breathe and fester day in and out; a living beast full of dangers and potential is unique.

Lost in the crowd, it’s almost easy to forget who she is aside from another face in the said crowd. She’s not a merc, not an ex-corp working counterintelligence—she’s not anything.

Her optics catch sight of several Tiger Claws lingering around the market, and she makes sure to give them a wide berth, especially when she notes the impressive list of their stats. She’s not stupid enough to attack outright when they outclass her—for now—and there are several of them around. With the market this busy the only outcome to that fight would be a bloodbath with police on her ass when that’s the last thing she needs right now.

Despite that logical part inside her steering her well clear of the gang members the need to blow off some steam bubbles under her skin. An ache starts to form against her temple soon after, making her focus blur around the edges as she wanders from vendor to vendor aimlessly.

“Hey, V,” a rumble of a voice cuts through her thoughts—and she hates how she can’t quite ignore his voice unlike everyone else—and turns her head in the direction of the call. She had foolishly assumed he was going to give her some peace of mind for tonight at least. “Check this guy out.”

Walking up a dimly lit staircase, she had barely noticed a man sitting on a rickety chair and playing a guitar. Much like her, others walk right past him, ignoring the man altogether.

Johnny glimmers into sight, squatting in place and oddly intent on observing the old man while he plays.

She entertains the idea of walking away simply to piss him off. If something is of interest to him, then she wants to ignore it so hard it gets under his nonexistent skin. Petty, perhaps, but ever so satisfying.

Hearing no reply or receiving much reaction at all, Johnny slants his head her way, nodding once towards the man, “What do you think?”

Squinting, she drags her gaze towards the guitarist, crossing her arms over her chest while she listens. She’s not even sure why she’s bothering but…

The melody is slow, near drowned out by the bustling sounds of the nearby market and chatter of people walking past.

“He’s...fine?” she offers lamely. “I mean he’s pretty good.”

A slight smirk crosses over Johnny’s mouth—gone in a blink but the focus he places on the man who seems to be unaware of her or the silent second spectator surprises her.

“Loses tempo more than he keeps it,” he comments, almost absently, and she feels her eyebrows arch in another show of bewilderment. A quiet spells falls over their little nook, and Johnny listens more, thoughts rolling inside his head if his body language is any sign. “Sloppy on the technique but he has feeling in the way he plays. Can’t teach that.”

“If only you didn’t die,” she sighs softly, closing her eyes in mock sympathy. “This could have been you.”

He surprises her again by laughing at that. It’s a deep rumble of a sound, and she can almost feel it echo between them and their mental bridge. “You’re kinda of a bitch. Has anyone told you that before?”

Her teeth flash in the dim orange glow of the neon lights. “And you’re sort of a dick. Anyone tell you that before?” she wonders with a charming, practiced smile.

He flickers out of sight and she’s about to call it a mental victory but a tickle of electricity kisses across the bare curve of her shoulder and neck, and she shivers when he appears beside her. His arms are crossed as well, and he glances her way briefly.

“Seems to me like we’re two peas in a fuckin’ pot, then,” he points out easily, and shakes his head, seemingly amused by his own words. “I might have tried to kill you a few weeks ago but look at us being chummy, Ver.”

Her throat closes up at that, expression tightening. He notices of course. Or maybe it’s the unease that slices through her mind at the casual way he uses her nickname.

“What? Am I not allowed to call you that or somethin’?” he wonders curiously, seemingly entertained by her reaction. Asshole.

“Only my friends call me Ver.”

Jackie was the first.

That thought makes her swallow painfully, a dull ache clawing against her heart. One would think that years being a corpo would have wiped whatever humanity still lived in her but Jackie’s death had been a stark reminder that she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.

“Why?”

She gives him a flat look. “Because my full name is Vermillion, but people tend to find it a mouthful so…”

“Vermillion,” he repeats, his intonation dry, and she shoots him a quick glare, daring him to make an issue of it. Naturally, his next words don’t surprise her, “That’s a stupid fuckin’ name.”

“Oh, because Johnny Silverhand is so much better.”

She expects him to say something snarky in return, argue maybe, but he only snorts. His metal hand lifts, pushing his aviators down slightly as he glances at her over them.

“You got me there.”

Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them. Shadows and life of the Night City holding them both suspended in this moment. No arguments or biting comments. No guilt, either.

A slight smile tugs across her mouth as she continues listening to the man play his downbeat little tune. Her shoulders loosen, drooping slightly and she lets herself breathe for a moment. Just the one.

“Used to be just like him,” Johnny speaks up suddenly, his voice more subdued, lower, and taps his fingers against the cigarette he’s holding. “But better. Used to play everywhere we could. Garages, bars. Anywhere that would have us, and we always had an audience.”

She hums, offering him a brief glance. “You mean you were actually good?”

She can’t see his eyes in the darkness of the street or through his tinted shades. But despite that, she can still feel his glare and the mental bite of chagrin/irritation/why is she so annoying? and deeper than that a spark of amusement/little shit thinks she’s funny.

“What’s this?” he muses, his words sarcastic. “A corpo rat that actually has a sense of humour? Colour me surprised.”

“No can do,” she shoots back promptly, fighting back a wider grin. “You’re too dead for that.”

He tsks, throwing his cigarette to the ground and she almost rolls her eyes. “Can’t wait to be out of your damn head, princess.”

“Can’t wait to be rid of you, either, so the feeling is mutual.”

Their words might be stringent but she can almost taste the faint amusement trickling between them and under that bridge that connects them.

“There might still be some bootlegs of those old days,” he muses thoughtfully. “People used to record everything back in my day.”

She drags her gaze his way, lips thinning into a firm line, “I’m not becoming a fan, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Afraid you’ll hear real music and won’t be able to go back to this modern garbage I hear everywhere?”

There is challenge in his words and she bristles. Maybe this is what she needs. She may not be able to put holes in some Tiger Claws with her sniper rifle but she sure as hell can go on a scavenger hunt and see what she finds.

Besides, it might help her to understand the man nested inside her mind a little better.

So when an hour later the old, wrinkly vendor asks her why he should give her his oldest, most precious Samurai vinyl, she tells him the truth.

A twisted truth.

But truth all the same.

“He’s with me every step I take, every move I make,” she confesses softly, something deep down breathing awake at that admittance. “Johnny’s like my conscience. My eternal, infernal moral compass.”

She doesn’t miss how the man in question doesn’t appear, doesn’t say anything even after hearing that. She would have figured he would be the first in line to offer her some mocking, snarky comment but there is only silence.

In fact, she can barely feel him at all. The tether between them is still and quiet.

And his silence says a lot more than he probably realises.

an: hello. guess whose not dead and kinda back to writing. dunno how much of cp77 you should expect because coa is still my priority but maybe occasional fic for these dumbos is on the cards. oh, and takemura because cdpr are cowards for not giving us that enemies to friends/partners to lovers romance. also I know this isn’t strictly RI and I honestly considered writing it as such but saw...no point? since the premise still would have been the same, so something a little different today ig.

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x v #johnny silverhand x female v #keanu reeves #johnny silverhand imagine #johnny silverhand fic #cyberpunk 2077 imagine #cyberpunk 2077 fic #c: vermillion #s: get out of my head

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jaehyunspeachparty · 5 years

Text

daddy jaehyun

ii.xxviii. (a)

"In any case, the IUD sits perfectly inside and lasts for three years. But I can have it taken out at any time. But now we don't have to be afraid that I'm going to get pregnant too soon." You had the IUD inside for a week because you no longer want to experience a miscarriage again. Your gynecologist had advised you as this was not in conflict with breastfeeding. "Okay, that sounds good." Jaehyun smiled and the two of you got out of the car. You take Sunoh and Jaehyun took Miga and you go up to your apartment, but there was an unexpected visitor at your door. "Grandpa!" Miga ran happily into her grandfather's arms. You look at Jaehyun, who almost froze. You had broken off contact with his parents since the trial. He was so angry at his mother that she wanted to testify against you. "Mum doesn’t know that you're here, or?" Jaehyun sighed annoyed while his father took Miga in his arms. "No." His answer was short and everyone noticed the tension, even Miga. You go to the apartment, Jaehyun gave his daughter something to keep her busy and you put Sunoh in the cradle. "He grew up and he looks like you were that age." The man watches his grandson, who happily played with a colorful cloth. "Do you want coffee?" You look at your guest and he nodded. "How are you Y/N?" His voice was full of pity and you didn't know what to say. Your life is already going on, but you still freeze because you knew that he was referring to the miscarriage. "How is she going to be? We lost a child and you and Mum couldn't even call me." You were glad that Jaehyun had taken over the speaking because you didn't know how to react to it. "We ... I wanted to give you two times." Jaehyun's father sighed and sat down at the dining table. "One message would have been enough." Jaehyun was angry and you could see that he made his hands into a fist. "I'm so sorry, so much went wrong." The old man sighed again and he really seemed to feel remorse. "I know that you were never happy with the decision that I married Y/N. But she never did anything to you. Why does Mum do something to her? Why do you allow something like that? What about Miga? Sunoh? You risk the relationship with your grandchildren only because you are not satisfied with my partner's decision? " Jaehyun's chest rose and fell very quickly. He felt so much anger, so much disappointment. Miga also noticed the tension and she came to you. "Mummy, why is Daddy angry?" She looks up at you with her big eyes and you take her up in your arms. "Daddy and your grandfather just talk to each other. Let's go to the bedroom." You take your daughter by the hand and you also take Sunoh with you. It was briefly quiet between the two men until you were gone. "I like Y/N. I know that she educate the children the most. She's a good mother. I don't know why your mother hates her so much. I didn't even know she testified against Y/N. " Jaehyun put his father the coffee you had prepared before and sits down with him. "Suji destroyed our lives. Suji terrorized Y/N. She was so stressed and had a risky pregnancy. You have no idea what we had to go through. Even Miga suffered from her plans. Is that what you want? If Mum doesn't like Y/N, please just leave our children. " Jaehyun put his hand on his forehead and tried to calm down again. But suddenly his father put his hand on his knee and looked seriously at his son. "I know I've never been there for you so often. But I want to be there for you now. Y/N included too. I miss my grandchildren and I want to be a grandfather for them." Jaehyun looked into his father's eyes and nodded. He couldn't say more. "Give Miga and Sunoh a kiss from me." Then he got up and left. Jaehyun waited until the door was closed and then got up. He came into the bedroom and saw how you watch a children's series with Miga and how Sunoh, supported by the pillows, sat between you and his sister. He now managed to sit on his own for a long time when he had some support and he could hardly believe how quickly he grows. Jaehyun sat down by the bed with you and when Sunoh saw him, he started laughing and clapping. His little dimple appeared and his giggle was incredibly cute. "He is growing so fast." Jaehyun took his son and sat next to you, on his lap with Sunoh. "He'll be 6 months old soon. I start to stop breastfeeding him slowly." You stroke the cheeks of your son, who still giggled and felt very comfortable in his father's arms. "Y/N, the conversation with my father made one thing clear to me." The words didn't seem easy to Jaehyun. You look at him confused and wait for what will come. "I think I will withdraw a little from the music business. My solo album will be released this summer and then I would like to step besides from idol life." "Are you serious?" You were surprised at his change. "Johnny will soon have a baby girl, between Doyoung and Hayoung it seems to be serious too. I think it will be quiet anyway in NCT 127. And I want to see my children grow up and to be there for them. I will not completely avoid everything "Maybe just a comeback a year, working more on TV shows, I don't know either. But I'm sure I want to be here for our children." Jaehyun seemed determined. You look at him for a while, then you nod. "If that's your wish."

daddy jaehyun masterlist

#jaehyun #daddy jaehyun #jaehyun jung #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun blurbs #jaehyun angst #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct angst #nct 127 angst

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spn-safeandsound · 4 years

Text

16. The Yellow-Eyed Demon

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x22; Devil’s Trap

Word Count: 9,163

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, murder, blood

Author’s Note: Sorry for not updating for a while. This is the last chapter in season one. I hope you enjoy! Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Pinned Post!

Dean shakily snapped his phone shut. "They have Dad."

Even though Julia and Sam already knew that, having Dean confirm it made everything feel worse. If Dean was shaken that meant things were bad; he was their rock who was hardly scared of anything and to see him so upset made things so much worse.

"Dean..." Julia said hesitantly, wanting to comfort him in some way. Dean was focused, though, grabbing the Colt from the nightstand between their beds and tucking it into the back of his jeans. "What are we going to do?"

"We got to go," Dean said quickly, grabbing his duffle bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Why?" Sam asked as Julia went to make sure everything was in her bag; when she was satisfied that everything was in place, she zipped it close.

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, all right?" Dean slipped on his jacket. "It knows we have the Colt. It's got Dad—it's probably coming for us next."

"Good," Sam declared. "We've still got three bullets left. Let it come."

Dean whipped around to face Sam, his eyes wild. "Listen, tough guy, we're not ready, okay? We don't know how many of them are out there and we're no good to anybody dead. We're leaving now."

"Sam," Julia touched his arm for only a second. "Let's go."

An hour later, they were a hundred and some miles away from Salvation. Sam was still sulking about the fact they left Salvation but Dean wasn't worried about it and Julia ignored him in order to text Abby for help.

"I'm telling you, Dean, we could have taken him," Sam spoke up tensely.

"What we need is a plan," Dean changed the subject. "Now, they're probably keeping Dad alive so we just gotta figure out where."

"You think they're gonna trade him for the gun?" Julia asked him, briefly looking up from her cellphone.

Dean nodded in confirmation but Sam shook his head.

"What?"

"Dean, if that were true, why didn't Meg mention a trade?" Sam's voice trembled. "Dad, he might be—"

"Don't!" Dean cut him off.

Sam sighed, thinking that Dean was in denial. "Look, I don't want to believe it any more than you but if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job."

"Fuck the job, Sam!" Dean grunted.

"Dean, I'm just trying to do what he would want. He would want us to keep going."

"Quit talking about him like he's dead already," Dean scolded his brother. "Listen to me, everything stops until we get him back, you understand me? Everything."

Sam was quiet for a moment before speaking up again. "So, how do we find him?"

"Maybe we got Lincoln," Dean suggested. "Start at the warehouse where he was taken."

"I don't think the demons will leave a trail," Julia interjected.

Dean nodded. "You're right," he agreed. "We need help."

"Well, I reached out to Abby," Julia told the brothers, looking at the text that Abby sent her. "She can't leave her hunt but she told me that we should go to Uncle Bobby's house."

"Bobby Singer, huh?" Dean hummed. "If he actually wants to help us. He and Dad had a falling out a couple years ago. I haven't seen him since."

"He's probably over it. Besides, he's not gonna turn away the Winchester boys when they need help. He adores you two."

Dean sighed and pressed on the gas pedal. "Looks like we're heading to Sioux Falls, then."

Julia was right about Bobby; he let them right in, giving tight hugs to all three of them. Despite the fact that he was glad to see him, he had to make sure they were really them—especially since they called ahead and told him what was going on. He handed a flask of holy water to Julia and she took a sip—with no reaction, she quickly went to Bobby's desk, reading the large book on demons that he got out for him.

"Here you go," Bobby handed Dean the flask of holy water and the flask that he didn't offer Julia; she assumed it was alcohol.

"What is this, holy water?" Dean studied the flask.

"That one is. This—" he showed him the other flask and took a sip of it. "is whiskey."

Dean drank the holy water and passed it off to Sam before taking the whiskey Bobby offered him.

"Bobby, thanks," Dean said gratefully as Sam took a sip of holy water and whiskey. "Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come."

"Nonsense," Bobby waved him off. "Your daddy needs help."

"Well, yeah, but the last time we saw you—I mean—you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. You cocked the shotgun and everything," Dean reminded him; Julia smiled to herself and continued looking through the book, stopping on the page about devil's traps.

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" Bobby shrugged indifferently. "John just has that affect on people."

"Yeah, I guess he does," Dean chuckled lightly while Sam nodded in agreement.

"None of that matters now," Bobby clapped Sam and Dean's shoulders. "All that matters is that you get him back."

"Uncle Bobby," Julia called for him, reading the rest of the writing about devil's traps. "Where did you get this book? It has great info."

Bobby walked around the desk and stopped at her side. "Key of Solomon? Your daddy gave it to me," he told her. "It's the real deal, all right."

Sam drifted to Julia's other side, scanning the page. "And these protective circles, they really work?"

"They do," Julia confirmed before Bobby could say anything. "If a demon walks into one, they can't move and they're powerless. There a few under the floorboards at home."

"It's like a satanic roach motel," Bobby added.

Sam chuckled while Dean walked over to them. "You two know your stuff."

Bobby smiled slightly. "I'll tell you something else, too. This is some serious shit you three stepped in."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam looked at him curiously. "How's that?"

"A normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four," Bobby informed them. "This year, I hear of twenty-seven so far. You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us—a lot more."

Julia raised her eyebrows and wrinkled her nose, alarmed. "Do you know why?"

"No but I know it's something big," Bobby shook his head. "The storm's coming and you boys, your daddy—you are smack in the middle of it."

Before Sam and Dean—or Julia, for that matter—could say anything, Bobby's dog, Rumsfeld, started barking loudly. Bobby stiffened and headed over to the window to see what was going on.

"Rumsfeld, what is it?" the barking abruptly stopped; Bobby looked back at Julia, Sam, and Dean. "Something's wrong."

The door burst open and Meg appeared, easily stepping into the house. Julia and Sam backed up as Dean inconspicuously grabbed the flask of holy water.

"No more crap, okay?" Meg snarled at them.

Dean screwed open the flask and advanced on her. Meg waved her hand and he went flying, straight into one of the huge piles of books. He ended up knocking it over and falling unconscious.

Sam protectively stepped in front of Julia and Bobby while Meg laid her eyes on him.

"I want the Colt, Sam," she said sternly. "The real Colt—right now."

Julia grabbed Sam's arm and slowly backed away into the living room, Bobby right by her side. Their goal was to get Meg to follow them and get stuck under the devil's trap that Bobby had painted onto the ceiling. It was working so far; Meg was steadily approaching them.

"We don't have it on us," Sam lied to her. "We buried it."

"Did I say no more crap?" Meg called him out. "I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun and then he leaves the real gun with you chuckleheads," she entered the living room, standing right under the devil's trap; Julia had to hide her smirk. "I mean, did you really thing I wouldn't find you?"

"Actually," Julia spoke up, her eyes flicking from Meg to Dean, who was now standing behind her. "We were counting on it."

Meg turned around to look at Dean and, when his eyes went to the ceiling, she followed his gaze. The devil's trap loomed over her, making her unable to move a single toe.

Dean smirked at her, anger blazing in his green eyes. "Gotcha."

Julia, Sam, Dean, and Bobby quickly got to work. Julia grabbed her journal to make sure the exorcism she had memorized when she was a kid was correct and she had all the right words and pronunciations, Sam and Dean got a chair and tied Meg to it, and Bobby went to salt the doors and windows and grab a flask full of holy water.

"You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask," Meg drawled, staring over at Sam and Dean.

Dean nor Sam responded to her but Meg did earn herself an eyeroll from Julia.

Bobby came back into the living room. "I salted the doors and windows," he told the three of them. "If there are any demons out there, they ain't getting in."

Dean nodded at him and slowly walked over to Meg. "Where's our father, Meg?"

"You didn't ask very nice."

"Where's our father, bitch?" Dean casually corrected himself.

"Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" she scoffed before adding mockingly, "Oh wait, I forgot. You don't."

Julia could feel Dean's energy flip; his anger about his father and the whole demon situation had turned much darker—he was furious and he was going to do whatever it took to get information out of Meg. On the other hand, Meg's energy was pure black, swimming with evil and darkness. It was horrible to experience but her brief run-in with the yellow-eyed demon had been much, much worse.

Dean moved quickly, leaning over Meg with his hands clenched around both arms of her chair. "You think this is a fucking game?" he shouted at her. "Where is he? What did you do to him?"

"He died screaming," Meg answered calmly. "I killed him myself."

Dean glared at her, pure hate in his eyes, and harshly slapped her across the face. Julia flinched as Meg's head whipped to the side from the blow but she quickly looked back at him with a smirk.

"That's kind of a turn-on," she said slyly. "you hitting a girl."

"You're no girl," Dean sneered.

Julia exchanged a knowing look with Bobby; they both knew that Meg was possessing someone and the girl she was wearing was more than likely innocent. Bobby stood from his leaning position from the wall and beckoned Dean into the study. Dean followed him with Julia and Sam on his heels.

"You okay?" Sam asked his brother, concerned.

"She's lying," Dean declared. "He's not dead."

"Dean, you got to be careful with her," Bobby advised him. "Don't hurt her."

Dean gave him a bewildered look. "Why?"

"Because she really is a girl, that's why."

"What are you talking about?" Sam wondered.

"She's possessed," Julia told them. "Meg is possessing that poor girl's body."

Dean glanced back at Meg, who was glaring at him, before turning back to the others. "Are you trying to tell me that there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?"

Bobby and Julia nodded in unison; Dean briefly looked at Meg again.

"That's actually good news," he stated, turning to Julia. "Jules, you still have that exorcism memorized?"

"Yeah," she nodded in confirmation. "and I have it in my journal just in case."

"Good girl," he praised her; she flushed as he turned to Sam and Bobby. "Let's send this bitch back to Hell."

Julia grabbed her journal, opening it up to the pages she bookmarked, while Dean and Sam went to stand in front of Meg. Meg's eyes flashed from Julia to Sam and Dean.

"Are you gonna read me a story?"

Dean angrily gritted his teeth. "Something like that," he looked over to Julia. "Go on, shortcake."

Julia immediately started to recite the exorcism. "Regna terrae, cantate deo, pasallite domino..."

She kept going as Meg smirked at Sam and Dean. "An exorcism? Are you serious?"

"Oh, we're going for it, sweetheart—head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards."

"...Tribuite virtutem deo..."

Meg flinched as Julia ended the first phase of the exorcism, grunting in pain. Julia immediately looked to Dean and Sam, wondering if she should keep on going.

Meg looked over her shoulder at Julia and then back at Sam and Dean. "I'm going to kill you. I'm gonna rip the bones from your body."

"No, you're gonna burn in Hell," Dean shot back at her. "Unless you tell us where our dad is?"

Meg smiled smugly at him.

"Well, at least you're get a nice tan," he snarked and then nodded at Julia. "Jules."

"Exorcisamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversaii, omnis legio, omnis congregation et sectra diabolica—"

Meg jerked and cried out in pain, trying to fight off the effect that the exorcism had on her. "He begged for his life with tears in his eyes," she shouted at Sam and Dean. "He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat."

Julia continued. "Ergo...

"For your sake, I hope you're lying," Dean leaned over Meg again, pure rage covering his face. "Cause if it's true, I swear to God that I will march into Hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches. So help me, God!"

"...Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, santana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae..." the room started to cool, wind coming out of nowhere and blowing things around. "...Hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine. Quem inferi tremunt—"

As Meg made another noise of pain, Dean glared at her. "Where is he?"

Meg gave him a dirty look that was full of pain. "You won't just take dead for an answer, will you?"

"Where is he?"

"Dead!"

"No, he's not!" Dean screamed at her. "He is not dead! He can't be!"

Sam gave his brother a look of concern and Dean turned to him, sensing eyes on him.

"What are you looking at?" he asked Sam before turning to Julia. "Keep going."

"Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut eccelsiam tuam secura tibi facias litertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos."

Meg screamed but Julia kept going.

"Ut inimicos sanctae eccelesiae humiliare digneris..." Meg's chair started moving, forcing her around the devil's trap. "Ut inimicos sanctae, ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus audi—"

"He will be!" Meg shouted, cutting off Julia.

"Wait, what?" Sam looked down at her in shock.

"He's not dead but he will be after what we do to him."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Dean asked her harshly.

"You don't."

Dean nodded at Julia to keep going. "Julia!"

Meg spoke up before Julia could start up again. "A building, okay? A building in Jefferson City."

"Missouri?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "Where? Give us an address."

"I don't know," Meg was breathing harshly.

"And the demon—the one we're looking for—where is it?" he insisted.

"I don't know," Meg repeated. "I swear! That's everything. That's all I know."

Dean stared down at her for a long second, his jaw clenched angrily, and then looked back at Julia. "Finish it."

"What?" Meg protested. "I told you the truth."

"And I don't care."

"You son of a bitch, you promised!"

"I lied," Dean shouted back at her. "Julia!"

Julia wanted nothing more to send Meg back to Hell but the more she thought about it, she wondered if it was a good idea. The girl that Meg was possessing had dropped from seven-stories—if she exorcised Meg, the girl would die. She was sure of it.

"Julia?"

Sam looked as hesitant as Julia did. "Maybe we can still use her," he suggested to Dean. "Find out where the demon is."

"She doesn't know," Dean spoke lowly.

"She lied!"

"Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there," Dean reminded him. "We've got to help her."

"We're gonna kill her," Julia walked over to them at the same time as Bobby.

Dean gave her a strange look. "What?"

"You said she fell from a building," Bobby backed her up. "That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it and that girl is going to die."

Dean inhaled deeply before adopting a stern face. "Listen to me, all three of you. We are not gonna leave like that."

"She's a human being."

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery," Dean snapped at Bobby. "Julia, finish it."

Julia knew that Dean was right but that didn't make her feel any better about what she had to do. At the end of it all, though, she knew it was best to put the girl Meg was possessing out of her misery. She had never been possessed but she knew that it was terrible on the victim.

"Dominicos sanctae ecclesiae, terogamus audi nos. Terribilis deus de scantuario suo deus israhel. Ipse tribruite virtutem et fortitudinem plebe suae. Benedictus dues Gloria patri!"

The exorcism worked. Meg screamed as her head was thrown back and black smoke escaped from her mouth. Once the black smoke disappeared, the real Meg Masters' head fell forward, chin pressed against her collar bone.

Julia snapped her journal closed and rushed over to Meg, seeing the blood drip steadily out of her mouth. "She's still alive," she told Dean, Bobby, and Sam after feeling Meg's slow pulse. "Call 9-1-1 and get some water and blankets."

"Thank you," Meg managed to whisper as Julia untied her wrists and ankles from the chair.

"Shh, shh," Julia shushed her gently. "Just hold on, okay?"

"Here," Dean and Sam hovered behind the girls. "Let us get her down."

Julia nodded and stood up. "Be careful."

Meg's bones creaked as Dean and Sam gently picked her up, making Julia flinch and start tearing up. She couldn't stand the girl's cries and whimpers of pain; she felt such sorrow for her and all that she went through.

"Sorry, sorry," Sam apologized as they lowered her to the floor. "It's okay, it's okay."

Julia grabbed a throw pillow from Bobby's couch and gently laid it under her head before kneeling next to Sam.

"A year," Meg wheezed quietly. "It's been a year."

"Shh," Sam comforted her. "Just take it easy."

"I've been awake for some of it," Meg continued. "I couldn't move my own body. The things I did—it's a nightmare."

Tears fell down Julia's cheeks at Meg's admission. It was times like this that Julia questioned God. How could he let good, genuine people like Meg suffer at the hands of evil?

"Was it telling the truth about our dad?" Dean asked her.

Julia gave him a sharp look. "Dean."

"We need to know," he insisted.

"Yes," Meg confirmed breathlessly. "but it wants...you to know...that...they want you to come for him."

"If Dad's alive, none of that matters."

Bobby entered the living room, a glass of water and another blanket in his hand. He handed the water to Dean, who held up Meg's head and helped her drink. Once she was done, Sam gently laid her head back down on the floor.

"Where is the demon we're looking for?" he asked her.

"Not there," Meg's breathing was slower now. "Other ones. Awful ones."

"Where are they keeping our dad?"

"By the river...Sunrise..."

"Sunrise?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "What does that mean? What does that mean?"

"Stop, Dean," Julia sternly before looking down at Meg to comfort her. "It's gonna be okay, Meg. You're safe now."

Meg smiled weakly at her as her heart stopped beating her and breathing stopped. That smile was still on her face when Sam closed her eyes. Julia sighed and bowed her head, saying a prayer for Meg and hoping that she would be going to Heaven where she would be in paradise.

"You three better hurry up and beat it before the paramedics get here," Bobby told them only minutes later as they all walked into the office-dining room.

"What are you gonna tell them?" Dean wondered.

"You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I'll figure something out," Bobby took the Key of Solomon off his desk and handed it to Julia. "Here, take this. It belongs to you."

Julia took the book with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Uncle Bobby."

"Thanks for everything," Dean added. "Be careful, all right?"

"You just go find your dad," Bobby clapped his shoulder. "And, when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won't even try to shoot him this time."

Sam chuckled. "We will."

They arrived in Jefferson City six-and-a-half hours later, thanks to Dean's crazy-ass driving. They stopped just outside of town, in an empty field next to the train tracks, in order to make sure all their weapons were ready to go.

Sam and Julia occupied themselves as Dean checked the weapons, flipping through the Key of Solomon. Julia quietly answered any of Sam's questions—to the best of her abilities, anyway—but kept glancing over at Dean, who was quiet and melancholy.

She pointed out the devil's traps to Sam before she walked over to Dean's side. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Dean said shortly, adding more holy water to their weapon's duffle.

"You're not, Dean," she squeezed her hand through his arm to wrap hers around his waist. Dean easily gave in and relaxed in her hold, pressing his forehead to her hair; she rubbed her thumb against his back to comfort him. "Everything is going to be okay."

"You don't know that," Dean murmured.

"Well, I have faith and I have hope," she replied into his bicep, her lips brushing against the old leather of his jacket. "And you're Dean Winchester. You're invincible."

Dean scoffed slightly and pressed his lips to the crown of her head. "Jules..."

Julia lifted her head and happily received the quick peck he gave her on the lips. "I know."

She could feel what he couldn't say. He was grateful and loving and nervous and scared. He was glad she was here with him and Sam and he was glad that she was his and he was hers. She felt the same way. Julia loved him—she was in love with him.

It's funny how you don't notice something—or how you feel—until it comes down to a scary situation. Julia had already known that she liked Dean as more than a friend but she didn't realize she loved him until now. She would die for Dean and she would kill for Dean and she would comfort Dean and she would do anything for him—she was oblivious until this moment.

And she wanted to tell Dean that she was in love with him but she couldn't. Dean wanted to take their relationship slowly and she was pretty sure that she had never heard him say those three words before—not even to Sam. Plus, with the fact that Sam was within hearing distance made her hesitate as well. He didn't know about her and Dean.

Until now, anyway...

Sam appeared out of nowhere and it was Dean who noticed him first. He quickly pulled away from Julia, where they were pressing their foreheads together, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

Julia faced Sam, wrinkling her nose. "Oh, hi, Sam."

"Hi there," Sam smirked triumphantly at his best friend and his brother. "So, how long has this been going on?"

"None of your business," Dean said gruffly, unwrapping his arm from around Julia and getting back to work on the weapons. Julia gave Sam a pointed look, silently telling him that she give him details—non-sexual details, of course—later when they were alone.

"You're quiet," Sam changed the subject knowingly.

"Just getting ready."

Sam nodded. "He's gonna be fine, Dean."

Dean didn't answer but Sam nor Julia expected him to. Sam went back to the Key of Solomon and read the last of the page about Devil's traps. "Hey, J, come here."

Julia patted Dean on the lower back, earning herself a small smile, and made her way over to Sam. "What's up?"

"If we draw one of these on the trunk, could a demon get in?" he whispered quietly.

"No," Julia answered softly, shaking her head. "Unless the trap is broken, no demons will be able to get inside."

Sam nodded and pulled out two white wax pencil from his bag and handed one to her. Julia nodded, realizing what he wanted done, and went to the trunk where Dean concentrating on packing the weapons.

While Sam went to the other side of the trunk, she wiped off the dirt that had been coated on Baby from the stretch of driving more than thirty hours in two days. She started drawing a devil's trap on the space she cleared off.

"Dude," Dean huffed, walking over to Sam. "What are you drawing on my car?"

"It's a devil's trap," Sam answered casually. "Demons can't get through it or inside it."

"So?" Dean's eyes flickered over to Julia, where she was just finishing up. "You too, Junior?"

Julia gave him an apologetic smile and tossed the pencil back in Sam's seat. "They turn the trunk into a lockbox."

"So?"

"So, we now have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad," Sam explained patiently.

"What are you talking about? We're bring the Colt with us."

"We can't, Dean," Sam shook his head. "We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use them on any demon. We've got to use them on the demon."

"No, we have to save Dad, Sam," Dean argued. "We're gonna need all the help we can get."

Sam sighed, irritated, and finished his devil's trap. "Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? He wouldn't want us to bring the gun."

"I don't care, Sam. I don't care what Dad wants," Dean declared firmly. "And since when do you care about what Dad wants?"

"Dean, Sam, come on," Julia sighed. "Now, more than ever, is not a good time to fight."

The brothers either heard what she said but chose not to acknowledge it or they were just ignoring her.

"We want to kill this demon!" Sam exclaimed. "You used to want that, too. Hell, you're the one who came and got me at school!" Dean scoffed and shook his head. "You're the one who dragged me back into this. I'm just trying to finish it!"

"Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that?" Dean retorted. "You both can't wait to sacrifice yourselves for this thing but you know what? Me and Jules, we're the ones who are gonna have to bury you."

Julia pressed her lips together, already devastated at the mere thought of Sam being dead.

"You're selfish, you know that," Dean continued when Sam sighed. "You don't care about anything but revenge."

"That's not true, Dean," Sam argued; Dean scoffed. "I want Dad back but they are expecting us to bring this gun. It they get the gun, they will kill us all. The Colt is our only leverage and you know it. We cannot bring that gun. We can't."

Honestly, Julia didn't know what to think. Both Sam and Dean had good points but there really wasn't a right way to do this. She was more inclined to agree with Sam, though, but she didn't speak up. She was merely a bystander in this fight or back-up when they needed it. Sure, she'd fight like hell but she wouldn't call the shots.

Dean was quiet for a moment before he agreed, "Fine."

"I'm serious, Dean!"

"I said fine, Sam!" Dean raised his voice, very obviously annoyed. He took the Colt out of his pocket and put it close to Sam's face, obnoxiously shaking it, before throwing it into the trunk.

"There's an hour until sunset," Julia spoke up, opening her door. "We better get going."

Dean and Sam nodded, both of them getting into the Impala.

They parked the Impala in a free parking lot by the Mississippi River before they started to walk around to see if they could find anything that related to what Meg had told them before she succumbed to her injuries.

The weather was absolutely beautiful and being by the river during summertime reminded Julia of her summers at home. Lake Michigan was practically her home during her least favorite season. The heavenly breeze, the smell of the water, the crashing of waves, the cheerful cries of kids playing with their friends, siblings, and parents...it was one of the truest forms of nostalgia for her.

"Hey, check it out," Dean said suddenly, stopping Sam and Julia and pointing at the nearest apartment building. "I think I know what Meg meant by sunrise."

The apartment building had a large sign in front of it, declaring the name of the company who owned it. Sunrise Apartments.

"Wow."

"Son of a bitch, that's pretty smart," Dean looked reluctant to give the demons any kind of compliment. "I mean, if these demons can possess people, they can possess almost anybody inside."

"Yeah and make anybody attack us," Sam pointed out.

"So, we won't be able to exorcise them," Julia hummed. "It's a building full of their pick of humans."

"They probably know exactly what we look like, too," Sam added. "And they could look like anybody."

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "This fucking sucks."

"Tell me about it," Sam agreed with him while Julia nodded. "All right, so, how the fuck are we going to get in?"

Dean pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "We can pull the fire alarm," he suggested. "and get out all the civilians."

"But the city will respond in seven minutes," Julia wrinkled her nose.

Dean nodded. "Exactly."

Within five minutes, the alarm was pulled by Sam and was blaring loudly from almost every part of the building. In the seven minutes that it took the firemen to get to the building, Julia, Sam, and Dean planned out what they were going to do. Dean and Julia would distract one of the firemen while Sam broke into their truck and stole two firemen uniforms. They would go in and Julia would wait by the fire escape to wait for their call before climbing up the apartment.

Julia and Dean joined the group of civilians coming out of the apartment and waited a minute until they approached the fire chief.

"Hey, what's happening?" Dean asked him, acting nervous. "Is it a fire?"

"We're figuring that out right now, sir," the fire chief replied politely. "Just stay back."

"We've got a dachshund upstairs," Julia made her voice shaky and forced herself to tear up. "He pees when he's nervous."

"Sir, ma'am, you have to stay back," the fire chief repeated patiently and started escorting them back to the group of apartment owners.

Once the man left them, Dean turned to Julia with an excited look on his face. "I've always wanted to be a fireman."

Julia grinned at him, melting from how adorable he was. "That's cute."

"Well, I was thinking more sexy than cute," Dean smirked down at her. "Would you like that better?"

Julia flushed and shrugged. "I like you both ways, Dean Winchester, but..."

"But what?"

Julia flashed him a sly but sexy smile. "I think I would prefer the sexy version."

Dean's eyes darkened. "Oh, baby," he groaned quietly so he wasn't overheard by any of the people they were standing next to. "When this is all over, we're getting ourselves a hotel room and we're not leaving for a week."

Julia giggled. "Promise?"

Dean snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, letting her feel his semi-hard cock. "Does this feel like a promise?"

Julia shook her head in amusement and buried her face against his chest. She pressed a chaste kiss between his pecks, near where his heart would be.

"Dean, Julia!" Sam approached them, looking annoyed by their flirting in the middle of a very serious situation. "Let's go!"

Dean and Sam quickly changed into the firemen uniforms that Sam snatched and grabbed holy water, salt, and a EMF device. Dean made sure that he gave Julia a good-luck kiss—it was kind of freeing that Sam knew about them now—before he and Sam made their way into the apartment building.

Julia stood on the first level of the fire escaped, waiting until Sam and Dean called her with the location of the apartment the demons were holed up in. Her phone rang only six minutes after the brothers left, telling her that they were on the third floor and it was the third apartment.

Julia raced up the stairs, climbing as fast as she could to the third floor. She counted the windows, hoping that every apartment had two, and chose the one that was likely to be the third apartment. She was able to unlock the window with the knife that Dean got for her and, when she slid it open, she sighed in relief when she saw John passed out and tied to the bed.

She could hear a commotion going on outside of the bedroom but she ignored it for the moment, climbing into the apartment. Once she was securely inside, she rushed over to the bed, checked John's pulse—she was very relieved to know that he was still alive—and started untying the ropes around his wrists.

There was a lot of banging going on in what she assumed was the living room and kitchen but it died down within seconds.

"Julia?" she heard Dean call. "Jules, are you here?"

"In here!" she told him loudly, taking out her flask of holy water. "I found your dad!"

The door quickly opened and Sam and Dean walked in, staring at their father in shock.

"Dad?"

"He's still breathing," Julia informed them.

Sam sighed in relief while Dean went to her side. He started shaking his father, trying to get him to wake up. "Dad, wake up. Dad!"

"Hold on," Julia cautioned him, screwing the cap off her flask.

"What are you doing?"

"He could be possessed," she answered Dean. She poured some water on John's face, relieved when nothing happened and he started to wake up. "All good."

"Julia?" John groaned groggily. "Why are you pouring water on me?"

Julia laughed lightly as Dean gave John a worried look. "Dad, are you okay?"

"They've been drugging me," John gave a non-answer. "Where's the Colt?"

Of course that was what he was worried about.

"Don't worry, Dad, it's safe," Sam assured him.

"Good boys, good boys," John breathed.

Dean and Sam helped John off the bed, wrapping his arms around each of their shoulders, and started carrying him out of the bedroom, following Julia. Just as they were about to reach the kitchen, where the door was located, it was burst open by a fireman and a mail carrier.

Julia immediately turned around. "Go, go!" she urged the brothers. "The fire escape."

Sam shut the bedroom door behind them and, while the fireman demon was destroying the door with his ax, he sprinkled a line of salt in front of it. Meanwhile, Julia was helping Dean and John out onto the fire escape.

"Sam, let's go!" Dean called urgently.

Sam hurried over and climbed out of the apartment, handing the salt to Julia as he helped Dean with John. Julia poured salt on the window sill just as the demons broke into the room and quickly followed Sam, Dean, and John down the rusty escape.

When they reached the ground, Julia and Dean held onto John while Sam went for the Impala. As he was crossing the alleyway, he was tackled to the ground by a demon.

"Sam!" Julia shouted in shock as the demon started wailing on him. "Go," she told Dean. "I've got your dad."

Dean sprinted over to the demon, who was close to killing Sam, and kicked him in the face. The demon hardly reacted and turned his head to the right; Dean went flying through the air and landed on the windshield of the nearest car.

"DEAN!"

The demon continued to beat Sam up when, out of nowhere, there was the sound of a gun going off. The demon was shot in the head; he flickered with an orange light before falling to the ground, dead. Julia looked over at Dean in absolute shock and saw the Colt in his hand, aimed right where the demon had been.

She quickly pulled herself together. "Let's go!"

Dean shook himself out of the daze he seemed to be in, put the Colt back in his jeans, and ran toward Sam. "Sam!" he exclaimed. "Sam, come on!"

Sirens started to approach them. "Hurry!" Julia urged them, keeping her hold on John. "Dean, Sam, we have to get out of here!"

Dean finally got Sam to his feet and Julia helped John walk over to them. Once she got the first aid kit out of the trunk, she joined Sam in the backseat and Dean took off.

She made sure she stopped Sam's bleeding, pressing some gauze against the cuts on his face. Once the blood stopped, she made sure to disinfect the wounds, ignoring the winces and grunts of pain that Sam gave.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she chanted under her breath the whole time.

By the time she was finished putting butterfly bandages on the cuts that needed to stay closed, it was pitch black outside and they were arriving to a nearby safe house that the Petersen-Alexander family owned.

Once they entered the cabin, Julia demanded that John and Sam take a seat while she salted all the doors and windows. She took out one of the large containers of salt hidden under one of the kitchen cabinets and Dean volunteered to stay with John and Sam and salt the windows in the dining room-kitchen.

Julia took care of the rest of the cabin, including three bedrooms, the living room, and two bathrooms. It only took ten minutes to take care of the bedrooms and bathroom and she was in the living room when Dean joined her.

"How are they doing?" she asked him quietly as he saddled up to her side.

"They just need a little rest, that's all," Dean replied, wrapping an arm around her waist. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she deflected; and she really was fine, despite the fact that had been scared out of her wits only two hours earlier. "How are you?"

"I'll survive," he grumbled. "Hey, do you think that we were followed?"

"I have no idea but I doubt it," Julia sighed, finishing up the last window. She turned in his arms, wrapped her arms around him, and rested her head on his chest. "We got this place for a reason. It's secluded and so far away from civilization it might as well be in the middle of Russia."

Dean snickered slightly, resting his chin on the crown of her head. "I don't think that made any sense."

"Russia is barren, Dean," she told him matter-of-factly. "I'm pretty sure that the people who live in New York City outnumber the whole population of Russia by, like, two times."

"Hmm, okay, smarty-pants."

"Mmm," Julia hummed. "I'm glad you brought the Colt. If you hadn't..."

"I'm not going to say I-told-you-so but..."

"But?"

"But I told you so," Dean sighed, his amusement fading. "Jules..."

"Hmm?"

"You know that demon I shot? There was a person in there."

Julia's heart fell at the reminder. She wasn't mad at Dean and she certainly didn't blame him for anything. He had saved his brother's life—the person he loved most in the world—and there wasn't really another choice. They couldn't exorcise him and he was on the brink of killing Sam.

"Dean," she rubbed his back with her thumbs. "You didn't have a choice."

"Yeah, I know," Dean agreed quietly "but that's not what bothers me."

Julia moved her head so her chin rested on his chest, looking up at his beautiful freckled face. "Then what is bothering you?"

"Killing that guy, killing Meg..." he swallowed harshly. "I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch," he confessed. "For you or Sam and Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just, uh...it scares me sometimes."

Usually Julia would know what to say to Dean that would comfort him. But what was she supposed to say to his admission? Thank you? That was awkward and by the way Dean was talking about it, she didn't think he was appreciate that. That being said, she knew how he felt; she'd do anything for the Winchesters, Bobby, her dad, sisters, brother-in-law, niece, and aunt. She was in the same boat as him.

"It shouldn't," John declared as he and Sam walked into the living room. "You did good."

Dean pulled away from Julia and gave his father a look of surprise. "You're not mad?"

"For what?"

"For using a bullet."

"Mad?" John scoffed lightly. "I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you—you watch out for this family. You always have."

Instantly, Julia was suspicious. This wasn't like John—one time, when Dean sixteen and Sam was twelve, he got into huge trouble for stealing peanut butter and bread from a gas station so he could feed Sam. He was arrested and, when the police called John, he told them that Dean could rot in jail for stealing. At that time, he was looking out for Sam, too, but John sure didn't appreciate it.

And there were many times after that when Dean took care of Sam in John's absence. So, either he changed his attitude within the past few days, or something was wrong. Julia squeezed Dean's hand as a warning and he squeezed back right away, signaling to her that he was suspicious too.

It couldn't be a coincidence that the lights started flickering at that exact moment. The wind blowing around the trees suddenly harshened. John walked over to the nearest window and looked out at the woods around them.

"It found us," he told Sam, Dean, and Julia. "It's here?"

Sam bristled. "The demon?"

John nodded and ordered, "Sam, salt the doors and windows."

"Julia and Dean already did that."

"Well, check it, okay?"

"Okay," Sam agreed and left the room.

John turned to Dean now. "Dean, you got the gun?"

"Yeah."

"Give it to me."

Dean pulled the Colt out of his jeans but hesitated when John stuck out his hand for it. "Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation but it vanished."

"This is me," John insisted. "I won't miss. Give me the Colt, hurry. Son, please."

Dean grabbed Julia's hand again and pulled her with him as he backed away from his dad.

John shook his head angrily. "Give me the gun," he ordered firmly. "What are you doing, Dean?"

"He'd be furious that I wasted a bullet," Dean muttered. "He wouldn't be proud of me, he'd tear me a new one."

Obviously Dean had been thinking along the same lines as her.

John blinked as Dean raised the Colt, aiming it right at his chest. "You're not my dad."

"Dean, it's me," John insisted.

"I know my dad better than anyone and you ain't him."

"What the hell has gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Dean retorted. "Stay the fuck back."

Sam rushed back into the living room, eyes wide with shock at the scene he walked into. "Dean, what the hell is going on?"

"Your brother has lost his mind," John told him.

Julia rolled her eyes and looked over at Sam. "He's not your dad."

Sam blinked in shock. "What?"

"I think he's possessed," Dean stated, upset. "I think he's been possessed since we rescued him."

"Don't listen to them, Sammy," John pleaded to his youngest son. "

Sam immediately turned to Dean and Julia. "How do you know?"

"He's...he's different."

"You know, we don't have time for this," John pointed out. "Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you gotta trust me."

Sam looked back and forth between his father and Dean and Julia, trying to decide what he should do and who should he trust.

But the demon inside of John was right; they didn't have time for this. "Oh, for crying out loud," she muttered before raising her voice. "Christo."

John blinked, his eyes changing from his usual chocolate brown to a hazy yellow. The same yellow eyes that the demon at the Holden's house had. He chuckled lowly. "I almost had you."

None of them could even take a single step before each of them were thrown to separate walls, hovering a foot or so into the air. Julia grunted in pain, pressure building in her abdomen and lungs. Dean and Sam weren't fairing any better, both of them struggling against the force the demon had them in.

The demon picked up the Colt and examined it, shaking his head. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been."

"It's you, isn't it?" Sam spat through gritted teeth; the demon nodded. "We've been looking for you for a long time."

"Well, you found me," the demon shrugged.

"Why didn't the holy water work on you?" Julia asked with some difficulty, tilting her head upwards to try to ease the pressure on her lungs.

The demon looked over at her and laughed. "You think something like that works on something like me, Julia?"

Sam clenched his jaw and struggled against the demon's force. Unfortunately, he was unable to move. "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Oh, that would be a neat trick," the demon drawled mockingly. "In fact, here—" he put the Colt on the coffee table. "Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy."

Sam locked his gaze on the Colt but after a few seconds, nothing happened.

"Well, this is fun," the demon sighed wistfully as he walked over to Julia, studying her with curious eyes. "I could've have killed you a hundred times today, but this...well, this is worth the wait."

Julia flinched as he reached for her, cupping her cheek roughly. "Get your hands off of me!"

"Aw, so precious," the demon clicked his tongue. "You're as threatening as a fruit fly...And they say you're the Chosen one? Please."

"Get away from her!" Dean shouted, trying to get out of the demon's hold.

The demon laughed and left Julia, wandering over to Dean. "Your dad—he's in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says hi, by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

Dean clenched his jaw. "Let him go or I swear to God—"

"What?" the demon cut him off. "What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice," he stepped closer to Dean. "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who, Meg?"

"The one in the alley?" the demon continued on. "That was my boy. You understand?"

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"What? You're the only one that can have a family?" the demon narrowed his eyes. "You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" he smirked. "Oh, that's right. I forgot; I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

"You son of a bitch!" Dean growled at him.

"I wanna know why?" Sam spoke up. "Why'd you do it?"

The demon looked over at Sam. "You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?"

"Yeah."

The demon scoffed and turned back to Dean. "You know, I never told you this but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. He'd been shopping for rings and everything."

Julia pressed her lips together sadly; Sam and Jess were so close to a happy ending, so close. It destroyed her to know that Jess was dead and Sam was never going to have a normal life again.

"You wanna know why?" the demon backed away from Dean, making his way toward Sam. "Because they got in the way."

"In the way of what?" Sam asked, voice hard.

"My plans for you, Sammy," the demon said simply. "You and all the children like you."

"Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh?" Dean interrupted, hoping to get the demon's attention off of Sam. "Cause I really can't stand the monologuing."

The demon scoffed. "Funny," he walked back over to Dean. "But that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain, mask the truth."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family but the truth is, they don't need you," the demon lied. "Not like you need them. Sam? He's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you. And your girl over there?" he nodded at Julia. "She'll get over you soon. It'll be like you never existed."

"Shut up!" Julia shouted at him. "God, you talk more than my sister."

The demon rolled his eyes at her and Dean shook his head, silently telling to keep her mouth shut.

"I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh?" he got the demon's attention again, smiling sarcastically. "Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted them."

The demon took a couple steps away from Dean and bowed his head. And then Dean was screaming in pain and the demon was looking back up at him.

"DEAN!" Julia and Sam shouted in unison before Julia continued, "Stop! Stop it!"

Dean's chest started bleeding heavily; it looked like he had a waterfall of blood falling over him, dripping down his chest and staining his gray t-shirt.

"Stop!"

"Dad! Dad," Dean grunted desperately, trying to get through to his father. "don't you let it kill me!"

The demon continued to attack Dean.

"Dean!" Sam shouted as Julia cried in fear. "No!"

"Dad, please," Dean whispered before his head drooped and he fell unconscious.

"DEAN!"

Suddenly, the demon paused and, when he spoke, there was pain and sadness in his voice. "Stop. Stop it."

Julia saw the change in his energy as John took control of his body. The three of them dropped to the ground, the demon's force no longer holding them; once she steadied herself, Julia rushed over to Dean's side, putting pressure on his wounded chest, and Sam reached for the gun, aiming it at his father.

Julia patted Dean's cheeks, trying to wake him up, all the while looking between him and Sam and John. His energy changed again and the yellow eyes appeared; the demon was back in control of John's body.

"You kill me, you kill Daddy," he taunted Sam.

"I know," Sam said harshly and lowered the Colt, aiming at John's right leg and pulling the trigger.

The bullet shot strait into John's left thigh; his body flashed with a white light but it didn't kill him like they had expected it to. John's body still fell to the floor, though, and as soon as he was down, Dean woke up, wheezing.

"Dean," Julia sighed in relief. "Thank God."

"What's happening?" he breathed.

"You lost a lot of blood, so stay still, okay?" she advised him. "Sam's checking on your dad right now."

"Is he okay?"

"Sam, how's John looking?" she called over to him.

Sam didn't get to answer; John suddenly gasped loudly, his back arching severely.

"Sammy!" he shouted desperately. "It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it! You shoot me, you shoot me in the heart, son!"

Sam shakily raised the Colt, aiming at John's chest.

"Sam, don't!" Dean protested as loudly at he could. He tried to sit up but Julia had to take most of his weight. "Don't you do this. Don't you do this."

"You do this, Sammy!" John ordered his youngest son. "Shoot me, son! I can't hold onto it much longer! I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!"

"Sam, no," Julia shook her head at Sam.

"Sam..."

Sam lowered the gun and a half-second later, John's mouth opened and black smoke erupted from it. It quickly left the cabin through the floorboards, leaving John to stare at Sam in disappointment.

They didn't have time to just sit around and accuse each other of what they did wrong. Dean was severely wounded and John wasn't much better. Julia and Sam quickly scooped them up and helped them out of the cabin and into the Impala.

Julia slid into the backseat behind Sam, who was going to drive, and opened the first aid kit that she, thankfully, didn't put away when they arrived. She ripped open a few packages of gauze as Sam started to drive and passed one patch up to John to press against his bullet wound.

"Hold on, Dean," she breathed, pressing the gauze to his bloody chest. "Just hold on for me, okay? You're gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

The closest town with a hospital was an hour away; Sam drove as fast as he could and, within less than a half-hour, they were only ten minutes away.

"Just hold on, all right," Sam spoke up as John groaned in pain, having put on a new patch of gauze on his wound. "The hospital's only ten minutes away."

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy," John grunted. "Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eyes on this? Killing this demon comes first—before me, before everything."

Sam looked in the rearview mirror, checking on his brother and best friend. Julia was still putting pressure on Dean's wound, stroking his hair every few seconds, and Dean was halfway unconscious, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to stay awake.

"No, sir," he finally replied to John. "Not before everything."

John shook his head in disagreement.

"Look, we've still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left," Sam said optimistically. "We just have to start over, all right? I mean, we already found the demon—"

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

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not-a-perfect-metaphor · 5 years

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Alright, everyone *cracks knuckles*, let’s get into....something more comfortable?

Wait, no. Force of habit, sorry about that!

Let’s get into....Jaxcon 2019! 😏

As usual, there is much to cover.

Starting with Jared being back! *happy dance* Back and wearing-

-this amazing, too-small (women’s medium) mugshot shirt! Don’t worry. I’m already writing up the petition for Jared to wear only women’s medium shirts from now on.

I’ll tell you that I’ve been majorly feeling for him, for Jared, and I’m sure that outward confidence aside, it’s been an incredibly nerve wracking stretch of time for him from his arrest to his public reappearance at Jax. Despite all the support that’s been pouring in, there’s also been some ignorant negativity, and we know he internalizes that kind of thing. But I’m sure his time at Jax surrounded by love and appreciation helped him immensely.

Plus I’ll use that thought as a segway into this beautiful Jaxcon embrace while the Js were talking about Jensen being an important source of emotional support for Jared ❤️-

Reminds me a lot of this Vancon embrace!

And we can’t forget-

Jensen: “I know him better than pretty much anyone.”

*cries* we know you do. We know.

And of course....of course, the boys were being dirty as well, because an eternal J2 constant we can always count on is the fact that they just can’t seem to resist comments like this one:

Jared: “He just informed me that it was a pity rim shot.”

Jensen: “Better than a pity rim job...”

Jared (smirkety-smirk): “Is it, though?”

Jensen: “Is it? Maybe not.” 😏

Reminds me of-

Jensen (about the bar Roosters): “That’s better than Cocks!”

Jared: “But...is it?”

*cue dirty dirty J2 giggles*

Ahhh, you two. Loving your cocks and rim jobs. So wonderful to have you publicly together again.

We got the ‘putting Jared in handcuffs’ statement last time from Jensen, and this time we got the marvelous tale of Jared getting lost at Disney and finding that there was a harness for him the next day, which Jensen apparently still uses on him!

Mmhm! Well then! I am definitely okay with that visual.

We also got to briefly glimpse one of our favorite things; jealous-Jensen! And in the same breath, we learned that the Js had spent the previous day together (yes, we do know that they spend a great deal of their time together, but hearing them say it is always nice), AND there was even a bit more dirtiness sprinkled into the interaction too-

Jared (talking about how Matt Cohen had been shirtless on Saturday while promoting Jensen’s album): “I hear Johnny Handsome was running around shirtless?”

But wait! Johnny Handsome is what Jared calls Jensen-

Jared: “Johnny Handsome walks in...”

So Jensen had to respond with a reminder that HE’S Johnny Handsome-

Jensen: “What are you talking about? I was with you!”

To which Jared jumps right on board with-

Jared: “Yeah, and you were shirtless!”

Jensen: “I mean, I was, but they don’t know that.”

Tehe. Don’t worry. We assumed it.

Okay, and did you catch this second little bit of jealousy from Jensen? Watch his expression, especially toward the end-

Jared (discussion had shifted back to Cohen): “If I had a 45-pack, I wouldn’t even own shirts, let alone wear them.”

I’m convinced Jared says little things like that knowing that jealous-Jensen will make an appearance, because we all know how much it turns him on when Jensen gets possessive, and what we see of that is obviously nothing compared to what goes on afterwards when it’s just the two of them. 😏

Darn. I wanted to post some ‘that reminds me of...’ things, but I am far too low on space. So, moving on...to one of my favorite, FAVORITE little tidbits!

Question: what do Sam and Dean do to escape each other’s musk/sweat?

Jared (smirkety-smirk): “Why would we want to?”

Mmhm! *breaks out my proud Wincest-shipper hoodie* (no one ships it harder than the Js).

I’m sure you’ve already guessed (or seen for yourself) that there was much touchy touchy and many stares of love. And also a whole lot more general husbands-husbanding. Really...you guys...I am just so pleased with the year 2019. I truly am. And you can bet I’ll be posting each and every stare and touch and lovey word and moment in a part two and possibly even a part three (because image space...booo).

Until then, though, hopefully this gave you at least a satisfying enough taste of the Js at Jax!

More soon, friends!

#j2 #j2 tinhat #jaxcon #2019 #husbands husbanding

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traincat · 5 years

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I know you've already sort of discussed this but could you please explain the marvel 2 in 1 ending... what I'm getting is that the gist of it is that Reed and Sue are just like 'lol whoops I guess we sorta forgot about u'... which is really kinda anticlimactic and abrupt. Did I read it wrong or something? All that build up and angst just for it to go down the drain... is there something more to it that I'm missing that you know of?

I can explain it, but the answer’s not going to satisfy you, because it doesn’t satisfy me. Long story short: there were implications there was something more to the story than Marvel Two-In-One’s final two issues said, but Fantastic Four hasn’t followed up on that like, at all, and shows no signs that they’re going to anytime soon.

In the interests of putting all of the pieces together, I’m going to lay out everything that happened between the cancellation of the Fantastic Four title and now, because there are a lot of fuzzy periods. The Fantastic Four disappeared from the Marvel universe and from the shelves back in 2015, following Jonathan Hickman’s Secret Wars event. In Secret Wars, the multiverse has been destroyed and cobbled back together into Battleworld, a realm where Doctor Doom rules as god king, with Sue as his wife, Ben transformed into a huge wall, and Johnny as Battleworld’s artificial sun. It’s a real fractured fairy tale. At the end of Secret Wars, Reed defeats Doom and reunites his family. Using Franklin’s mutant ability to create entire universes and the Molecule Man’s powers, Reed, Sue, and the children of the Future Foundation set out to recreate the multiverse. Ben and Johnny are sent back to their own Earth with comment that “their stories aren’t done yet.” Doom is also sent back with his scarred face restored.

The cancellation of the Fantastic Four at this point heralds the first time Marvel had been without a Fantastic Four book on the shelves since 1961. We know – partially because it was painfully obvious, and partially because Jonathan Hickman spilled the beans – that the Fantastic Four comics were cancelled because of a film rights dispute; aka, Marvel Studios and Disney didn’t have the film rights, and Ike Perlmutter threw a fit about it. Instead of doing their best to put out a good book that would draw in comics audiences, Marvel instead cancelled Fantastic Four, citing low readership. Marvel has denied this, but the truth is pretty obvious, especially with how the Fantastic Four’s return to comics just so happened to coincide exactly with when it became extremely clear that the Disney-Fox merger was going through. So right from the start we had this very inorganic reason as to why the Fantastic Four were hung up. Reed, Sue, and the kids were retired out of universe under the excuse that they were rebuilding the multiverse – which, to be fair, does work as a pretty good excuse. Johnny and Ben, on the hand, were kept in-universe and distributed to other properties, probably because of Ben – who, let’s be honest, is the most popular of the Fantastic Four and the moneymaker here – and because it made more sense to keep Johnny and Ben than just Ben.

Immediately post-Secret Wars, there was an eight month (iirc) timeskip in the main Marvel universe, meaning that books that picked up after the events of Secret Wars picked up significantly after it; we see very little of the Secret Wars fallout. Here’s what we do know concerning the Fantastic Four: Reed, Sue, and the kids were largely believed to be dead, although Johnny in particular initially refused to believe that. Sometime during this timeskip, Johnny and Ben had some kind of fight. We don’t know what it was about. Honestly, at this point, we’re unlikely to ever know what it was about. Whatever it was, it was bad enough that Ben and Johnny severed all communication and Ben left the planet to join the Guardians of the Galaxy. What followed was the longest separation between Ben and Johnny that we’ve ever seen in canon. Johnny and Ben are famous for squabbling, but their fights rarely last longer than a few days at most; they’re extremely close, to the point that when Ben was presumed dead, Johnny’s coping mechanism mirrored Ben’s long time love and current wife Alicia’s. This post-Secret Wars separation between them lasted longer than when Ben thought Johnny had gotten together with said longtime love Alicia (it was a Skrull in disguise, but nobody would know that for like 80 issues). This separation between them is completely unprecedented, and like I said, we have no idea what caused it.

This scene from Infamous Iron Man #9 is the closest I’ve gotten to determining a root of the fight – note Johnny says “my family”, all handily bolded for emphasis. Not “our family”, “my family.” Ben is the only member of the Fantastic Four not related by either marriage or blood to any of the others, which has been a very occasional sore spot in the past. But even this scene doesn’t quite make sense – it’s hard to imagine Ben and Johnny having a months long separation over this alone, and to make matters more confusing, before Infamous Iron Man #9, Johnny had tried to get in contact with Ben only to be rebuffed. In Infamous Iron Man #9, Ben gets in contact with Johnny only for Johnny to practically run away from him. Already the new dynamic here feels like it needed more attention in the narrative than it actually got.

I think part of the problem with this whole return of the Fantastic Four storyline – the actual return especially, but even the lead-up – is that it was never established what was keeping Reed and Sue from coming back. On top of that, if they had the power to send Johnny and Ben back, why weren’t they able to send them back with some sort of memory or guarantee that Reed, Sue, and the kids were okay? It would have been very easy to say “well, a supervillain did it!” You know, the easiest comic book plot excuse of all time. But they didn’t do that. And that creates a problem when it’s a well-established fact that Johnny in particular tends to fall into a deep depression and displays signs of self-harm when the team isn’t together. (Fantastic Four #191-193, Robinson’s Fantastic Four run, Ben’s death in Waid’s run.) Which is exactly what happened this time, too, both during the timeskip and in the lead-up to Marvel Two-In-One (2017).

Marvel Two-In-One (2017) was essentially the test run for the return of the Fantastic Four. The original Two-In-One was to Ben Grimm what Marvel Team Up was to Peter Parker: essentially a team up book that revolved around one character. So it made sense to relaunch it starring Ben and Johnny. In Two-In-One, Ben discovers Johnny at the end of his rope, pulling life-threatening stunts in his grief and depression, and, willed a multidimensional travel device by Reed, decides to – to the best of his knowledge at the time – lie to Johnny and say that Reed and Sue might still be alive. Learning that they’re both losing their powers and will continue to do so unless they’re reunited with Reed and Sue, as their powers depend on the four of them being in the same universe (an interesting concept, though not one we’ve seen before), Ben and Johnny set off, with a worryingly helpful Doctor Doom on their heels, on a multiversal roadtrip to find their family – one Ben thinks will fail from the start because, as far as he knows, Reed and Sue are dead. It’s a really good concept, and a great concept that starts to fall apart as soon as the notion that Reed and Sue aren’t dead starts to float to the surface. In Two-In-One #9, stranded powerless with Ben in the desert in another universe and facing death, Sue appears to Johnny.

(Marvel Two-In-One #10) This brief contact is apparently enough to reignite Ben and Johnny’s powers to full strength. Sue says that her and Reed’s powers were gone, which does seem to track with the plot – except Johnny and Ben lost their powers over a prolonged period of time, not all at once. If Reed had realized he and Sue were losing their powers, he should have come to that conclusion far before this point in time. You can say the times don’t add up because different universes (which the “you haven’t met the Zaklons yet” line would seem to imply), but with no explanation about how Sue was able to contact Johnny – however briefly – at this point, it does make it seem like Reed and Sue could’ve made contact with Ben and Johnny at any point… and simply chose, for whatever reason, not to. Which is, ultimately, the story Two-In-One goes with.

(Marvel Two-In-One #11) In the very next issue, Reed’s reasoning for why they didn’t take Ben and Johnny with them is that… they would’ve been bored by the science aspect of it all. Which is, I’m going to go ahead say, very out of character and not in the spirit of the Fantastic Four. They’re explorers, and they explore together. This seems like a weirdly brusque excuse to write off the absence so they can get back to the status quo as quickly as possible, using Reed’s science-obsessed image to make him the fall guy. Additionally, in this issue (which I have to say, I overall like – I wrote a whole Doom/Reed fic based off of it), Reed also offers another reason why the world had to believe he and Sue were dead:

In Marvel Two-In-One #11, Reed and Ben visit an alternate universe Doom who exists in a universe where his own Reed is dead. This Doom is a pretty okay dude at the moment – in fact, he and Reed had become, through Reed’s private multiversal travel, close friends. Using this (pretty flawed) logic of “Reed dead = Doom good??”, Reed deduced that if his own Doom thought Reed was dead, he… too would be good? Look, I don’t hate this. I’m a big Doom/Reed fan and the whole thing is pretty shippy and it also depends on Reed having an enormous attachment to Doom and an enormous desire for his own Doom to be like this other Doom, who is his friend. But as far as “why did Reed and Sue stay away as long as they did” explanations go, “Reed was kind of bonkers in love with Doom” is not the direction I expected things to go. Besides, it doesn’t really work, and it doesn’t really work for one big reason: Fantastic Four (2018) #1, the actual return of the Fantastic Four, was published before this, and Fantastic Four (2018) #1 implies a hugely different story.

Fantastic Four (2018) #1 sees Johnny and Ben returned to their home universe after the events of Marvel Two-In-One #10. The reader has no idea how they got there or what they’ve been doing since they got back, or even how long it’s been since they’ve been back. Despite the Sue sighting, at the very end of the issue, Johnny becomes convinced all over again that Reed and Sue are dead, up until…

(Fantastic Four v6 #1) The staging here is important – Reed and Sue’s battle-ripped uniforms, and the cryptic lines between them, like Sue’s “what you plan to do… seems impossible.” This is compounded by dialogue between Franklin and Val in the next Fantastic Four issue:

“You think you can boost that signal enough… to reach Earth?” “Home? I’m good, but there’s no way I’m that good.” This would definitely seem to imply that, for some reason, Reed, Sue, and the kids can’t contact their home universe, or Ben and Johnny at all. I’m admittedly biased in favor of this version: the more time went by without Reed and Sue contacting Johnny and Ben and leaving them on their own, the more obvious it became that this was the best solution, to create some comic book reason why Reed and Sue simply couldn’t return home. But Fantastic Four (2018) #3 and #4 never really explore this more, and the subject gets dropped altogether, which makes for a very unsatisfying read. The Fantastic Four simply return home together and, some frankly too quickly brushed off anger and resentment from Johnny in Marvel Two-in-One’s closing issue aside, this gets swept under the rug in favor of the Fantastic Four just being back now! Hurrah! Pay no attention to the film rights hungry Mouse behind the curtain!

If I wanted to, I could make the explanations presented in Fantastic Four (2018) and Marvel Two-in-One (2017) mesh – Reed has massive guilt issues stemming back to the accident that granted the Fantastic Four his powers. He has a bad habit of taking responsibility that isn’t necessarily his, and of not being 100% truthful in situations because he feels it’s for the best for everyone. (The massive amount of time he takes to reveal his powers are failing during Fraction’s Fantastic Four run, or in the two instances during Waid’s run where Reed uses cruel words to distract both Ben and Sue from his plans to sacrifice himself for them.) Reed might have chosen to take the blame on himself – come up with a story he knows will anger Ben, say that he thought he and Johnny would have been bored, because he felt it was somehow easier than admitting that he and Sue found themselves in some kind of situation where they simply couldn’t get back, and couldn’t contact Ben or Johnny. It’s a way of taking 100% of the blame on himself, which would be a very Reed thing to do. But that would be me doing the book’s work for it; this is absolutely not established within the actual canon as of the time of my writing this.

Honestly, I don’t think we’re likely to see this explored more any time imminently – the Fantastic Four were banished from the stands because of film rights. They came back because for three years dedicated fans asked where the Fantastic Four were, yes, but also because of those same film rights. Now that they’re back, there seems to be this huge rush to pretend it never happened: the Four are back together, and that’s that. It’s very unsatisfying, but it’s clear Marvel cared more about pushing the Fantastic Four back together as quickly as possible than writing a coherent, satisfying story that put together all the pieces of their in-universe disappearance.

#foil-in-a-thunderstorm #*replies #traincat talks comics #long post/

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amoralto · 6 years

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MOJO: Paul McCartney – the MOJO interview. (May, 2003)

(Note: Finally, finally finished typing this up after @sweating-cobwebs requested the full interview what seems like ages ago. Quotes from this and the Yoko interview from the same issue - which I’ll probably type up in full later as well - can be found under the #2003 tag.)

In troubled times, Paul McCartney and Yoko Ono remained undaunted and have found peace – with themselves and each other. Johnny Black met Macca in London.

by Johnny Black

When Sir Paul McCartney’s dark blue Mercedes drives into Docklands Arena and pulls up at the side of the stage, the 60-year-old man who climbs out looks sprightly, even jaunty. He throws his elegant grey jacket over one shoulder, as he proffers a broad smile to everyone he greets. There’s a ripple effect as he moves away from the vehicle, a small knot of his employees drifting along with him. Press officer, catering manager, sound man, security personnel… and they each have a little something they need him to do if and when he has a moment.

He appears to be taking it all on board, seems to placate them all, and by the time he pauses about 30 feet in front of the stage, the knot has dissolved and they’re all heading back to their appointed posts.

The figure briefly watches his mainly American band as they jam cheerfully around the distinctive chord progression of Walk Don’t Run by The Ventures, then joins them on the stage, immediately changing the mood as he leads them into Shakin’ All Over, the first truly great pre-Beatles British rock track. Given how much we seem to love speculating about McCartney’s motives, it would be easy to interpret this as a statement of intent – the British boss asserting his personality over his yankee staff – but it’s also undeniably a great track to warm-up on, and he seems to relish playing it. Up there on that stage, bashing away in front of an audience of less than 20 onlookers, he seems just as happy as he would be if he were basking in the approval of 20,000.

It’s March 14, 2003, and for the next few days the 12,000-capacity Arena – a far cry from the Liverpudlian sitting rooms where The Beatles first knocked their live sets together – is serving as McCartney’s rehearsal hall in the run up to a major European tour.

McCartney’s personal fortune was recently estimated at £620 million by People magazine. In the last year alone, he raked in £120m, of which £65m came from US tour receipts and album sales. But money, as he once famously pointed out, can’t buy love. And love, in the words of another Beatles’ classic, is all you need. In the enduringly poignant country music standard A Satisfied Mind, written in 1955 by Red Hayes and Jack Rhodes, such sentiments are explored more fully in the lines, “Money can’t buy back your youth when you’re old, or a friend when you’re lonely, or a heart that’s grown cold.”

Looked at in that light, just how wealthy is Paul McCartney? Here’s a man, adored by millions, disliked by millions, whose young life was shattered on October 31, 1956 when his mother, Mary, died of cancer in the Northern Hospital, Liverpool. The following year, he befriended John Lennon, only to re-live his own grief over again when Lennon’s mother, Julia, died in 1958.

With George Harrison and Ringo Starr, he and Lennon formed the most successful band the world has ever seen, then watched helplessly as it was destroyed by drugs and greed, turning their friendship to dust along the way. After years of acrimony, he and Lennon had just begun healing their wounds and rebuilding their friendship when Lennon was stolen away from him again by the bullets from Mark Chapman’s gun.

The other major relationship that had brought stability into McCartney’s life was his lasting marriage to Linda Eastman, but that was also taken from him too soon when she died from cancer in April 1998, aged just 56. And it was cancer again that claimed the life of George Harrison on November 29, 2001.

To what extent can £620m heal the scars left by those assaults on McCartney’s famously cheery – and oft derided – bonhomie? The answer, as any fule kno, is that it can’t. So what is it that keeps those legendary thumbs aloft? It has to be more than just the buzz of playing Shakin’ All Over with a band half your age.

When, after an hour and a half, the first rehearsal is over, MOJO is pulled into Macca’s wake by press officer Geoff Baker. At the end of a walk through bare and stark backstage corridors, we arrive at the inner sanctum, a dressing room converted into something not unlike a Persian boudoir, complete with velvet cushions, exotic drapes, dishes groaning with fresh fruit and the smell of incense perfuming the air.

Sitting opposite him across a low table, there’s very little feeling of being in the presence of greatness. He wears his celebrity comfortably – like a favourite old shirt. He is perfectly polite, knows how to put a stranger at ease with an amusing aside but, above all, the passage of the years has made him even more gentlemanly. In the flesh, his boyish demeanour compensates for the lines and wrinkles that have come with age. Look into his face at close quarters and what you see are his eyes, still twinkling. Somewhere behind that twinkle, however, there’s a mind like a steel trap. You don’t get to where McCartney has got without one.

What would be a typical day in your life, like when you’re not working?

I tend to be the one who gets up to make breakfast. You’d die for my breakfast. It’s my Zen thing. I cut up all these lovely exotic things, normally in this order: I cut up a melon, a papaya, some kiwis, bananas, peach, and I make a fruit plate and it looks a bit like a mandala when I’ve done it – there’s all sorts of reasons why but it just have developed into this. We’ll also have tea, bagels, humous – quite a big, fancy breakfast. Then it’s a walk in the park with the dog, or if I’m in the country it might be a horse ride.

Later in the day, I like going to the pictures. We’ve got a great local cinema… Normally I’ll go with Heather, but I went to see Lord Of The Rings on my own. Loved it, whacking great film.

You can go to the cinema without being hassled?

Yeah. I do everything without being hassled. It’s actually been one of my pleasures. I actually like getting on the Tube, getting on the bus. I’ll do it if I’m walking and I see a bus going my way, I’ll just jump on. I did it in the 60s. George’s dad was a bus driver and he could never believe I’d do that. People can’t believe it. I had a guy in the street the other day, he was really worried that I was out on my own with no security. I said, “Gerraway.” I’ve always done that. I used to sometimes walk to Beatles concerts, and you’d get a screaming mass of girls and I’d say, “Come on, girls, calm down.” I’d do the big brother thing. I’m very comfortable with that. If not a movie, we’ll watch TV or a DVD in the evening – I usually try to see Who Wants To Be A Millionaire and Blind Date.

Most of us watch Millionaire because we’d like to be one, but that can’t be the appeal for you…

I want them to be millionaires. Actually Heather wants us to go on as a couple. It was funny because we met Chris Tarrant (the show’s presenter) the other night and Heather, in her keenness, said, “We should come on the Celebrity Millionaire show,” … which is for charity, so it’s a good thing… she said, “I know all the answers Paul doesn’t know and he knows all the ones I don’t know.” Chris said, “No, you shouldn’t come on. You’d be terrible.” He just completely took the piss, which was hilarious, because you’d expect him to be really keen.

Somewhere in the evening I’ll have a drink, and get to bed maybe about 11. Is that early? And then I’ll go to sleep and snore. Apparently I snore, but not a lot.

A brace of young women arrive bearing a tray laden with Paul’s lunch – chunky raisin scones, toast and a major pot of tea. Immediately he’s on his feet, exchanging pecks on the cheek, addressing them both by name, inquiring after their well-being. He points at the various delights on the tray to indicate that MOJO is welcome to partake.

Your band on this tour is noticeably young and energetic. How did you find them?

My keyboard player Wix has been with me for years, but I was going to make a record (Driving Rain) in America with David Kahne. He rang me about 10 days before the first session and said, “Do you think you might want to play live in the studio?” So I said, “Yeah, maybe.” So he said, “Should I get a couple of musicians in case you do?” I said, “OK, if you like.” I just left it very sort of casual.

So he thought about some people he admired. He’d never worked with Abe (Laboriel Jr, drummer) but he admired his work. He’d worked with Rusty (Anderson, guitarist). So he told me he’d got these people with great attitudes and who were great players and who could sing.

So I came in on the Monday morning, met the guys, and immediately started making the album, basically live. And that was it. Then, when we did the Superbowl, we needed one more guitarist for that so I asked David, “Do you know anybody?” And he said, “Yeah, this guy Brian Ray.” And he seemed to fit in great.

What do you think people expect from you when they come to a show?

I’m trying to keep a balance, proportionate, between Beatles stuff, Wings stuff and solo stuff. I don’t want it to just be a Beatles show, but I don’t mind giving an audience my most popular stuff. If I go to see David Gray, I’d like to hear him do Babylon because I like that song. And I’d be pretty disappointed if Coldplay didn’t do Yellow, you know?

We still have to rehearse to stay fresh, we’re making some changes to the screens and the lights (at these rehearsals), and I am adding a couple of songs to the set, so it’ll be a slightly longer show.

You were always the one in The Beatles who would turn up at a pub and sing songs. You did it during Magical Mystery Tour and you did it in 1968 on the way back from recording Thingumybob with the Black Dyke Mills Band.

I’d been up in Bradford with (Apple press officer) Derek Taylor, and we were just driving back to London, and we all got bored, someone wanted a pee, so we stopped in a little town called Harrold. And I think when we got to the pub it was shut but we got it to open up and we had a drink and there was a piano there so I sat down and played Let It Be.

Is that as much fun for you as playing in Earl’s Court or wherever?

Yeah. It is. It’s just a different kind of fun. I really do like it. If there’s a piano around it would be very difficult for me to just sit and watch it. It seems to me, in my naivety, that it’s something you approach and tinkle, to see if it’s in tune. It’s not a great desire to perform, I don’t think. I think it’s more that I like music, I like piano… but guitar is best.

Your first instrument was a trumpet. Was that something you wanted, or was it foisted on you by a well-meaning parent?

At the time, I think I must have sort of coveted a trumpet. My dad was a trumpet player and I did like it but when I realised I couldn’t sing and play the trumpet at the same time, I asked him and he said he didn’t mind me trading it in for a guitar. I thought he might be a bit insulted, but he didn’t mind.

The head of another aide pops round the door. It seems the BBC has arrived to show Paul a DVD of a commercial he’s done for the Corporation. Then there’s more rehearsal to be done but maybe we can reconvene later. Not for the first time, McCartney is ushered politely out of reach.

Docklands Arena, soon to be ripped down and replaced with more commercially viable properties, is virtually devoid of character. Fortunately, the stage show devised for this tour offers no end of distraction for the senses. As well as serried ranks of lights of very sort known to man, and some ear-splitting pyrotechnics in Live And Let Die, there are over 30 giant video screens forming a semi-circle around one humongous mother-screen which can be raised up and down as required on worryingly noisy pulleys.

“All our fuckin’ technology and it sounds like a building site,” wails the sound man. He’s consoled by a crew member who’s seen it all before – Gerry Stickells, the legendary Hendrix roadie tempted out of retirement for this tour at McCartney’s personal request.

When he returns to the Arena floor after watching the BBC DVD, he notices that the text on the mother-screen – via which audience members can text each other from their mobiles – is smaller than it used to be. He calls over the lighting director and suggest that “maybe… it might be better if… don’t you think?” Moments later, with the text size already increased, Macca is onstage running the band through the entire show – not that they seem to need it. The set runs almost faultlessly, synchronised with the lights and screens to such an extent that even the ‘Na Na Na’ audience participation section of Hey Jude is rehearsed in real time, with Paul exhorting the imaginary throng – “OK, just the ladies now… fantastic… now just the guys…”

He’s on-stage, performing with more energy than at any time since the heyday of The Beatles, for almost three hours in all, but he comes off at the end barely out breath, and we repair once more to the inner sanctum.

It’s interesting that you use the on-stage screens during Lady Madonna as a gallery of feminist icons…

They actually had Madonna among the visuals, but I thought that was too obvious. So they asked what I’d like to replace Madonna with and I said, “The Queen Mother.” This was two weeks before she died, so when we started touring ti looked like we’d put her in as a tribute.

I didn’t notice Yoko Ono either. Are you two still feuding?

I know that’s the public perception of it, but I do not have a bad relationship with her. We’re not enemies, me and Yoko. We send each other Christmas cards and everything. She’s more like a distant relative.

But you are tussling over the credits to the Lennon-McCartney songs…

There’s no tussle at all, but if, on my songs, like Hey Jude or Yesterday, which John openly acknowledged, particularly in the Playboy interview, that he had nothing whatsoever to do with… John actually made a list for the Playboy thing showing which songs were his and which were mine. I would be quite happy if, on one of the songs, it would be allowed, for my name to just come first. But I’m really not fussed. It’s not anywhere near as big an issue as it looks. It gets played up in the press. It’s a hot little story. And it makes me look stupid. “Why the fuck does he want that?” It’s actually just a very little request.

More importantly for me, it’s Trades Descriptions. It’s so complex and I hate to go on about it but, for example, I was reading a book, an anthology of poetry, and one of the poems in it was Blackbird, which is my lyric. And it said by John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Now John had nothing to do with those words, especially once they’ve been extracted from the music and put into a poetry book. I think it’s fair enough to put Blackbird in a poetry book by Paul McCartney. Give Peace A Chance… take my name off it. It was a great, great anthem of John’s.

It’s sort of a mild request I made to Yoko and it’s sort of been turned down. If she’d have said yeah, the publishing company could probably have sorted it out.

Do you think it matters more to other people than it does to you?

I don’t think anyone gives a shit.

But Alistair Taylor, who worked for you at NEMS and Apple for many years, told me he was very upset that you would want to change the credits. He says it was agreed at an early meeting that it should be Lennon-McCartney, and you agreed to that…

Well, number one, Alistair was not in the meeting where I agreed it. It’s all very nice these guys having these opinions, but here’s what I say and this is the truth. There was a meeting with me, John and Brian, in Hilly House, above a carpet shop in Albemarle Street. We went in and they said, “We’re going to call it Lennon-McCartney.” I said, “Well, OK, fair enough, but it would be good to have it occasionally McCartney-Lennon, wouldn’t it, just for fairness for me?”

And they said, swear to God, hand on heart, but there was nobody else in the room and they’re both dead, so there’s no way of me proving this, except I believe it, I was there, and nobody else who talks about it was there, and they said, “We can change it as we go along. And we can change it any time we want out of fairness.”

This was why, many years later, when the Anthology came about, I and Linda, who had just been diagnosed with cancer, rang Yoko, and said, “Could we just, on Yesterday, could we just switch that one track?” That was the original request. It was just for that one song. And Linda, God bless her, spent quite a bit of time ringing Yoko and that was the start of it all.

And now, I must just be resigned, because it doesn’t really matter, except from the point of view of this Blackbird credit. There is an unfairness there, I think. But it’s an unfairness I’m willing to live with. I don’t mind, and I do think it has rebounded on me a bit because people want to know, “What the fuck does he think he’s doing?” I’ve had letters from people saying, “Paul, you’re doing yourself no favours. I was a big fan of yours but this terrible thing of trying to ruin John’s reputation…” I’m not trying to ruin John’s reputation.

When Yoko was interviewed by MOJO, she said it wasn’t all black during the making of the White Album. There was some lighter moments. Is that how you recall it?

That’s absolutely true, yeah. We’d never have got an album made if it was as black as it was painted. It’s a good album. I remember we presented John and Yoko with an inscribed teapot, and that was a fun time. Unfortunately, because The Beatles were splitting up, the only thing anybody wanted to know about was the split.

It wasn’t all black, even then. We were all pretty friendly, and the times when we weren’t friendly was quite a small proportion of the overall thing. Unfortunately, that’s what gets remembered because it was the most significant proportion because it ended up in a divorce, as it were. In a divorce court, you don’t say, “Oh, she was really great. She’s actually fabulous, and I’m sorry we’re getting a divorce.” That’s what happened to us. Because of the circumstances we had to talk about all the shit.

I think because the Beatles had been by and large a happy, successful thing… four lads getting out of Liverpool, getting out of the working class money trap and doing well… that had all been an up vibe and then with drugs and stuff towards the end of the ’60s it was all taking a bit of a dip. The drugs weren’t working, nobody was giggling anyore, and the word ‘heavy’ came into the vocabulary.

Because all of that was going on it did get nasty. The thing with me having to sue the other guys. I wanted to sue Allen Klein but I couldn’t, so the only way to get out of everything for me and them was for me to sue them, and that was unconscionable, that was something I would never have thought of doing.

It was unfortunate because, in suing the other guys, not only did I get their backs up for a number of years, but the public perception was of me being the guy who sued The Beatles. I held off doing it for months, but it was pointed out to me that the only other option was to go with Klein. So I did it but, luckily, all things must pass, and it did pass. In the end, the others were glad I’d done it. There wouldn’t be Apple now. But it was a very ugly period, and ugly things I had to do to make it work.

You still seem very interested in politics, supporting the campaign to get ride of landmines. But the Wings single, Give Ireland Back To The Irish, was a very direct political statement.

See, I thought we were Irish. So it was a home problem for me… McCartney… Liverpool being the capital of Ireland… it was like a very personal take on it. What if there were Irish soldiers on the streets of Hendon or Speke? Would you like it? That was my take on it.

As evening falls over Docklands, McCartney is whisked off home to dinner with Heather, leaving a promise that if MOJO returns on Monday, a little more interview time will somehow be squeezed into a hectic day. Over the intervening weekend, his Radio 2 commercial, a radically reworked version of Band On The Run, begins airing, along with a short TV film about its making.

When we reconvene at the Arena on Monday morning, the ambience has changed. A troupe of dancers – including a young woman bent on squeezing herself into a tiny Perspex box – is rehearsing backstage; two insurance brokers have arrived to check out the pyrotechnics; the MOJO photography crew, rpomised first access to Macca, is anxious; and there’s an entirely new set to be rehearsed.

As before, Macca opts to take to the stage first. A guitar tech hands him a jumbo acoustic and they lanunch into For No One, followed by Things We Said Today, C-Moon, Honey Don’t… this is the Coliseum set. The band is still unfamiliar with several of the tracks so Macca strums through I’ve Just Seen A Face yelling out the chords as he proceeds. As Geoff Baker strolls past, MOJO inquires whether McCartney will perform Mull of Kintyre when the tour hits Glasgow. “Absoutely not,” says Baker. “We’re frantically seaching for a pipe band at this very moment for an entirely different reason.”

Up on the stage, McCartney says, “OK lads, let’s try Cor Blimey Luv!” and they thunder into Can’t Buy Me Love. Come lunchtime, he is unexpectedly taken off for a meeting in central London, but promises MOJO a swift return.

Two hours later, precisely as predicted, McCartney reappears.

A couple of the post-Beatles songs like Coming Up and Let Me Roll It seems to me to be much more powerful than the originals. Is this how you really intended them to be in the first place?

No. It’s an evolution caused by playing with this band. The parts are already there. What I like about this band is that I don’t really have to tell them. What I’ve done on this whole tour, this band, this new thing, is I’ve let everyone be, let them do their thing, and then if I don’t like it, I’ve reined it in a bit.

Rather than me dictating how to play it, I figure my dictatorial moments have happened – I wrote those songs and I did the original records, so now I don’t feel the band has to stick note-for-note to the original arrangements. It’s also a bit of a louder band than I’ve had before, a bigger sound, so that adds to it.

I know that Rusty is working on his own CD at the moment, but there’s presumably no chance in this band of the other members being allowed to contribute their own songs on the set?

I’ve had to take on the role of boss ever since Wings. It wasn’t like The Beatles any more. Denny Laine, for example, had the reputation of having done Go Now, so you might want to do that, but really the promoters and the audience tended to want to hear my stuff.

At your level of success, you’re effectively the head of a small company. How do you know whether the people are saying that what you do is great because it is great, or just because you’re the boss?

It’s almost impossible, but I think I’ve been at it long enough now to suss… I actually see people telling me, “That’s a great idea!” but I prefer people to speak their minds. So in this kind of team, they’re not just sycophants. They’re more likely to be people who’ll say, “Yeah, that’s a good idea but what if we did this?” And I’ll go, “Wow! Shit! That’s a great idea.”

Do you take to the role of boss easily?

I used to be frightened of it when I was younger because I thought, “We all hate bosses, don’t we?” But I had to get over it because with Apple, we suddenly had this company losing a lot of money we’d earned so I then had to actually tell people what to do – I’m talking about secretaries and staff, The Beatles was still a democratic thing, but we all became bosses then.

That was a strange moment for you, when you had to take over the business side as well as the creative…

We all had to do it, and that had all its famous problems associated with it. After that I had to decide how I would do it in my solo career, which is when I put MPL together. Very small beginnings, one little room in some film production offices, and at that point I really did become the boss. I had a secretary and everything, and then that thing grew, so yeah, I’ve got more and more comfortable with it. I don’t think I’m a very hard boss, but I kick ass when things go wrong.

Do you think your continued success over 40 years – which seems to include a fair number of younger fans – is a bit odd? It’s as if, in the ’60s, Al Jolson or Rudy Vallée had still been pulling in huge crowds.

I think our thing was stuff that goes for all generations. I’m singing things now that I wrote years ago and thinking, “Shit, that’s still appropriate.” Doing Calico Skies, for example, talking about “crazy soldiers, weapons of war”… and look at what’s going on around us right now.

I certainly don’t think it’s any reflection of the state of contemporary music. I think music right now is really great. I’m not an expert, because I’m not a kid buying it, but I always check out people who are said to be good. I’ll see somebody getting a Grammy and I don’t know them, so I’ll check that out.

For instance, I’d heard Eminem on the radio and I thought, “Clever. Good lyrics, good ideas.” So I just went to see 8 Mile and it’s a great little rock ’n’ roll film, like an Elvis film. I enjoyed it and I came out like when I was a kid, that feelgood thing coming out of a movie like you’re walking a bit taller.

What are the eternal verities of a great song?

It’s an indefinable magic chemistry which can come many, many ways. Starting at the top… it’s often a great title. It’s often great words, or great melodies, or great chords or a great sound… but the best ones have got them all.

And there’s always a magic moment. Send In The Clowns, for example, has that line about, “Isn’t it queer… oh, they’re here.” Or in The Drugs Don’t Work. I remember hearing that record, the acoustic coming on, but when he hits that line, it’s like, “Fucking hell, that has to be said.” It hadn’t been said before.

If I had to plump for one single element, it would be melody, because not all songs have got words. I can be moved by a great melody on its own.

Many artists adopt personas. Is that what happened with The Beatles?

We didn’t think that was what we were about. We felt more like a little group of students. It was more an art thing we thought we were doing. We were just (adopts exaggerated Liverpool accent) John, Paul, George and Ringo, you know? I think one of the great things about The Beatles, apart from the fact that we were damn good, was that we were very honest – that could be one of the things that has lasted. Also, we were artists. Our artistic development found a home in people’s hearts and they were able to follow it. Yellow Submarine is a kid’s thing; A Day In The Life is more grown up, so it was an interesting body of work.

It’s also a body of work that has haunted him ever since. Despite multi-platinum hits and a wealth of superlative tracks in his post-Beatles output, Lennon-McCartney remains the standard by which all contemporary songwriters, including him, are judged. John’s untimely death put him on a pedestal, moving him effectively beyond criticism, while McCartney got on with the job of living in the shadow of their unwieldy legacy. It must have been galling, for example, to release his acclaimed solo album Flaming Pie in 1997, while knowing full well that it would never match the sales of, or reap the critical plaudits heaped on The Beatles’ Anthology, a compilation of outtakes, backing tracks and rarities, which had been released two years earlier.

Nor did his renaissance man dabblings in classical composition, poetry and painting do much to revive public interest. But then, on June 11, 2002, Sir Paul McCartney married his ex-model girlfriend Heather Mills, in St Salvator’s Church, Castle Leslie, Glaslough, Ireland. Since then, although things haven’t gone exactly smoothly, it seems as if his life is more firmly back on track.

This is a man who obviously likes to be married, enjoys stability and finds pleasure in domesticity’s little routines, presumably to balance the whirlwind of activity that follows every move he makes outside of his front door. Watching him deliever the line, “Oh that magic feeling, nowhere to go” on the stage at Docklands, it suddenly seemed to rank among his most heartfelt.

Following the muted response from critics and public alike to his Driving Rain album of 2001, he makes no attempt to hide the fact that he’s revelling in the acclaim for and success of this tour in America, which has outstripped all expectations. For this 60-year-old knight of the realm to be the biggest-grossing US live act of 2002 – seeing off not just arch-rivals The Rolling Stones but also the young bucks – is clearly a source of immense personal satisfaction.

But who is he really? Bastion of the establishment? Rock idol? Contented hubby? Multi-talented renaissance man? Avant-garde pop genius? All of the aforementioned and more? Or just an old dopehead with a good head for a nice tune?

Over the years, you’ve been busted for marijuana in Scotland, England, Barbados, Japan, Scandinavia… you could probably get in the Guinness Book Of Records for being busted in most countries. Did anybody mention this in the process of making you a Sir?

No, nobody comes and says anything like that. You can be a terrible person and still be a Sir. It must be that way, because they gave it to me. The worst thing about being busted is that you go on computer records. So every time I go to America, they see my name on the database and they know I’ve been busted a lot, but I think they’ve sort of forgiven me. It’s like, “That was his wild youth but he’s all right now.” So they always let me through, but the drug busts, I have had to go and sit with the aliens in Customs, once or twice. It’s a bit embarrasing. That stuff never comes off your records.

What’s the most useful thing about being a Sir?

I can’t think of many useful things about it. George Martin says it gets you a good table in a restaurant, but I get a good table anyway. I ring up and ask for a table for 8.30 and if they say, “Sorry, there’s no tables left,” I will say, “This is Paul McCartney here.” Then you hear a bit of scuffling and suddenly a table becomes free. I don’t actually like doing that, but I will if I’m desperate. But I never say, “This is Sir Paul McCartney.” I never call myself that. I see it as being like a school prize. You don’t really go for it, but get it because of what you are. Like the art prize or the maths prize. It’s nice to get it because it’s an honour, a recognition of what you’ve done, but it doesn’t do you much good. For me, the best thing about getting it was that it was popular. A lot of people said, “Oh yes, he deserved that.” That was important to me.

How about Sir Mick Jagger?

Who cares? I think it’s cool. I don’t think it makes you anything. I think you are ‘it’ already and it’s a prize for being that thing. And Mick is Mick so that’s fine. I can think of people who should get them… like Eric Clapton. He’s a prime candidate. Sir Eric Clapton has a ring to it.

At your level of success, you’re effectively a company. How many people do you employ all told?

Normally, we carry about 140. When you’re in school or college, you’re a scruffy little bastard writing essays all the time, hoping one day that you’ll be a lawyer, a judge, a journalist, rocker, head of a company, your dreams are all there and I’ve actually got my visualisation. I feel very lucjy. I’m really aware that it’s not just me… I’ve had a phenomenal amount of luck.

Heather said, a few months back, that marrying you had brought her a lot of unhappiness. How do you, as a couple, cope with that?

I’d like to help her with it, and I hate to say this, but it’s more how does she deal with it, you know? I think the shock for Heather was that she’d been “Great model who overcomes accident and now she does a lot of work for charity and disabled people.” The minute she married me, it was, “Who does she think she is?” It’s really quite unfair, but she’s a sitting target. I think it did give her a lot of grief. The most grief, the worst thing about it, was that it actually affected the charities she was working for. People actually stopped donating because of what they read in the newspapers, which was largely untrue. They did a lot of silly things. There was a photo of Heather and I at Stella’s fashion show, and it looked like Heather was doing two peace signs with her fingers and some journalist said, “Oh, she’s copying Linda.” And actually, on closer inspection, it was my hands. But who cares? They’re just having a go. I mean, who gives a shit who gives a V sign?

They also claimed she was doing a cookbook when she wasn’t. We get asked to give a recipe to an Amnesty cookbook or a vegetarian society cookbook, so you do that and it comes out as she’s doing a cookbook. It’s changed a bit since the Parky show. A lot of people like that show, and she changed a lot of people’s minds. In fact, we were walking the dog in Regent’s Park this morning and somebody came up and said, “That was really good on the Parky show!” The main point she made that people appreciated was that with this sort of arbitrary press sniping, it doesn’t affect her so much as it affects the charity, and the disabled people who might have got a leg if there’d been the money raised.

Somebody in one of the papers even said she was under investigation for her charity work, and that completely undermines what she’s trying to achieve. It turned out not to be true but, as you know, the apology appears on page 10 where no one sees it three weeks after all the damage has been done. The same thing happened in the early days with Linda but, as Parky said on the show, it comes with the territory – marrying this guy. It’s not so much me, though, it’s just fame. The same thing happens if you marry Tom Cruise, or Michael Douglas. You get a load of shit. You may have married him because you love him, but now you’re a sitting target.

I noticed that George’s death elicited a very different reaction among my friends than John’s did. John’s was horrible because it was sudden and unexpected and he was young. But I think George’s death reminded my entire generation of our own mortality. It’s as if we measure our own lives alongside the lives of artists we loved. Did you get any sense of that?

To me, of course, it was more of a personal thing. Privately, I felt the same way about both of them. I had lost a dear friend who I would never see again. But when John died, because of the shock, during that day I was asked what I felt about John’s death and all I could stumble across was, “It’s a drag.” I couldn’t gather my thoughts. We were just in shock. I was just shouting stuff about the guy who’d shot John.

I was very lucky that my relationship with John had been healed. It had been vicious, but were phoning each other, talking about kids, baking bread, cats, being a husband – all the simple shit that really means a lot to me. That was the consolation before the terrible shock.

With George’s death, because we knew it was happening, I was able to be more considered in my reaction. I was able to go and hold his hand… but the bottom line is that I will see that man no more, and that’s a little bit horrific for me. When you lose someone dear you just wish someone could magic it all back again. And maybe there is some way, who knows, in the great beyond.

After all he’s been through, McCartney seems more at peace with himself than at any time since John’s death. He is keenly aware that, in the public perception, such actions as seeking to change the credits on Lennon-McCartney songs have tarnished his image, but he also knows that one of the greatest tricks of surviving immense fame is learning to recognise that you have an image, realising that your image isn’t you, and stepping away from it in order to get on with real life.

The punchline of that old song, A Satisfied Mind, is that, “It’s so hard to find one rich man in 10 with a satisfied mind.” There’s no telling how long it might last but it would seem that, for the moment, Paul McCartney is that one rich man.

Coming Up

While suffering a near-nervous breakdown during the Fabs’ prolonged disintegration, McCartney quietly worked on an ill-fated side-project that many now agree ranks among his best solo work. Chris Ingham basks in the understated glory of 1970’s McCartney.

Autumn of 1969, Paul McCartney was in a strange place. Feeling redundant following John Lennon’s announcement in an August meeting at Apple that he was leaving The Beatles, McCartney retreated to his farm in Scotland to drink, stay up, lie in and suffer what he would call “almost a nervous breakdown”.

At the same time, in the company of Linda, his bride of six months, step-daughter Heather and brand new baby daughter Mary, he also began to enjoy the ‘glow’ of being in a new family. By the time they returned to his St John’s Wood house for the winter, McCartney was sufficiently energised to do a little work from home. Plugging one microphone directly into a Studer multitrack with no VU monitoring or mixing desk, he overdubbed himself on drums, guitar, bass and keyboards, polishing his DIY recordings at Abbey Road (where he booked in as Billy Martin) and Morgan Studios, Willesden.

The resulting album McCartney – released in April 1970 simultaneously as The Beatles’ split became public knowledge – was almost universally received as a bit of a non-event. Modest, rough-hewn, semi-improvised, it was the unshaven opposite of The Beatles’ pristine work on Abbey Road which had appeared only eight months before.

Yet, over 30 years on, it holds up as a funky home-brew of a record, groovily lo-fi in a way that wouldn’t be fashionable for a couple of decades. The primitive experimentalism and bluesy jams that were for years dismissed as semi-distracted indulgence now sound, well, rather cool. The drumming is rudimentary but deep, the guitar playing bluesy and distinctive (and much admired by Paul Weller for one), the sound is warm and present, “very analogue” as McCartney recognises now.

And as an expression of where he was at – ‘home, family, love’ – it is as vivid as anything he ever did. The informal paeans to his new wife – The Lovely Linda, Oo You – are respectively radiant with natural affection and earthy passion while the majestic Maybe I’m Amazed confirmed that, when he felt like it, his ability to shape inspiration with unmatched pop craft was secure.

Elsewhere, if lovers of McCartney’s straightforward pop are short-changed – the delightful Every Night and Junk notwithstanding – it’s because he just felt like recording other things; the ethereal sound made by wine glasses (Glasses), a dusted-off Silver Beatles instrumental (Hot As Sun), or a rather compelling chant-and-percussion sound painting of an African tribe (Kreen-Akrore). It’s the very wilfulness of McCartney – the organic sound of an artist learning how to express himself in whatever way he pleases – that gives the album a “realness” that somehow appeals more with the passage of time.

As Paul wrote in 1970 to journalist Penny Valentine, who had spoken for many by expressing her disappointment with the record, “even at this moment it is growing on you.” It still is.

Timeless melody

A purveyor of silly songs? No, a compositional genius…

Peter Buck, R.E.M.: Ram is an amazing record. Ram On? That’s like something off Pet Sounds. The Back Seat Of My Car is amazing. Wings’ Wild Life is really cool. It just sounds like he was in the biggest band of all time, he goes, “Hey we just got a drummer, let’s make a record this week, without any songs!” Dear Friend is one of my favourite songs he ever wrote, which is probably about John. I love that song. I actually recorded it with the Minus 5. Needless to say, the stuff he did with The Beatles was pretty decent too. The thing that boggles my mind is that when they broke up, nobody was 30, and George was 26. He was 26?! Jeez.

Brendan Benson: It’s his genuine fascination for music and music theory, him as a composer, explorer and experimenter, especially his post-Beatles work. He’s a great arranger, the way he puts his songs together. Band On The Run is his masterpiece. It works on so many different level: it’s a simple pop record, yet the way he ties in the melodies throughout makes it something more. It’s a work of genius, so huge and epic yet never outstaying its welcome. He tears at the heartstrings with his mix of mellow, dark and pleasing sounds. There’s never anything harsh or abrasive, just super moody songs, full of melancholic nostalgia.

Andy Partridge, XTC: He’s so fab because he’s so ludicrously melodic and he’s not afraid to be soppy. It takes a lot of guts to do that. My favourite song? It’s Getting Better is so fantastically optimistic, with this great convoluted construction, twisting around. And that bass playing –it’s actually just like his singing, piping and flute-like. And Hello/Goodbye, those opening chords reach in like a ray of sunshine. Again, it’s ferociously optimistic. You know you’re going to have a good experience. It’s not this fake seriousness you get now. He’s never had a problem restricting himself to one thing – he can rock out, be avant-garde, do children’s music, pop for the teens… it’s preposterous that he’s seen as the second-best Beatle – I think the whole thing was an equally jewelled tug of love between them. Although I do wonder why you never see McCartney and Angela Lansbury in the same room.

Gladys Knight: For me it was when Paul took control of the group that The Beatles were at their best. He’s so gifted at writing words and I always choose songs for their lyrical content. I must have worn the grooves off Let It Be. I’d get up in the morning playing it, go to bed playing it, cook to it, clean up to it. The title track was just a song that touched my spirit and that’s why I decided to cover it, because it touched my soul.

Tom McRae: The man is a genius for melody. The second side of Abbey Road – particularly Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight is one of the greatest Beatles’ moments and Paul’s shining moment. It goes from this brilliant beautiful ballad, his voice so lush and romantic, to turning, in a split second, into a raucous rock number; the best of both sides of his art all in the space of one song. It’s so emotive and there’s a challenging simplicity in his melody and lyrics.

Ben Kweller: The first album I ever fell in love with was Let It Be. I was eight and listened to it non-stop. Paul’s lyrics are so focused on the subject matter and the emotion he brings to the songs is so sincere and honest. Those massive piano ballads like The Long And Winding Road just make me swell up inside. His voice is so pure and beautiful and his musicianship is often overlooked. He reinvented bass playing and excelled at the guitar, piano and drums.

#2003 #interviewed: paul #interviewer: johnny black #paul mccartney #full article placeholder tag

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nogods--nomasters · 7 years

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Imagine...

Being a Shelby sister while constantly trying to prove yourself and constantly fighting with John.

“Y/N!” You heard a gruff voice bellow as the doors to The Garrison clanged open. All eyes immediately shifted to the source of the noise, all eyes except yours. You stared straight ahead, sipping on the tumbler of rum you had been nursing for the past half hour. You were already drunk; much more alcohol and you were sure someone would have to carry you out. You took your time turning to face the source of the noise. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Brother,” you greeted, your voice level and cool, “Fancy seeing you ‘ere, ey?” John Shelby looked angry. This was not unfamiliar, but it certainly was amusing.

“Wha- ‘fancy seein’ you ‘ere’!? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” John stormed forward and grabbed you firmly by the hair, yanking you out of the bar stool. “You made an absolute fool out of me, Y/N. A fool.”

You gasped in pain briefly before smirking, contorting your body so you could spit in his face. “I made a fool of you? Johnny, how could I have possibly known that Tommy would ask me to do this job? I just explained how badly you fucked up the last time.” John tightened his grasp on your hair, “And besides, you do an excellent job of making yourself look like a fool without me, you fuckin’ bastard.”

John took the grip he had on your hair and used it to push you to the floor. You were up before he could kick you, and you directed a quick kick to his most sensitive area. “You fuckin’ bitch!” He hollowed as he doubled over in pain. You walked out of the Garrison, not wanting people to see you running. You didn’t want to appear weak. It was hard enough being the only Shelby sister who gave a single shit about the business, on top of being a female in the power hungry games your brother played. Adding the rivalry between you and John only made it that much more difficult. You were smart and could always be counted on to think on your toes, but you lacked the sheer muscle and brute strength that John had. It was the classic case of brain vs brawn, and tonight you had brought up John’s latest failure during the family meeting.

Clearly he hadn’t liked that. You and John were always fighting, and this was just another spat. He’d cool off in a few hours, and you’d probably be trying to kill each other again tomorrow. Once you were far enough away from the bar, you began to run, hoping the head start would be enough to keep you from having to stab your brother. You couldn’t fight him well using your bare fists, and you weren’t stupid enough not to bring a knife to a fist fight.

“Get back here!” You heard his footsteps before you heard his voice, and you hoped that you were fast enough to keep this going. You were drunk, though, and your limbs felt much heavier than normal. You knew he was closing in. Stopping short and turning, you caught him off guard as you brought your fist into contact with his nose. The satisfying crunch was nothing compared to the triumph you felt as the blood dripped down his face.

“John, go home. We can talk about this tomorrow.” Your knuckles were bleeding, and you grimaced as you moved them.

“’John, go home.’ You don’t have power over me, darling. You just got a few good hits in. If I wanted to kill you-”

“Right, right. You would. But you haven’t, so I don’t think you want to.” You walked closer to him and you watched him tense, “Brother, there will be other times for you to lead. Just not this time, yeah? Tommy thinks-” You felt the cold, hard sting of his open palm before you saw it coming.

“Tommy isn’t here, y/n. It’s just you and me.” Your hand was pressed against your face, “Come on. You don’t really think I’d just let you have it, did you?” You braced for impact as he raised his fist, but watched him crumble to the ground moments later. There, standing behind him, was Arthur, and you had never been more embarrassed. Your big brother having to come save you was not a great way to gain the respect you so desperately craved, but you were so relieved he was here.

“Let’s get our brother home, yeah?” He looked at you briefly, checking for injuries, “I know you would have stabbed him before he could best you, and I didn’t want a dead brother. Grab an arm and we’ll drag him.” Arthur pocketed the gun he had used to pistol whip John, before grabbing one of his arms.

You sighed. You felt like you were always needing to be rescued, but there Arthur was- doing his best to make you feel better and also saving you from the bruises your brother was sure to inflict. “Thanks, Arthur.”

“Shut up, grab his arm, and we’ll go talk to Tommy.” You nodded and did as he asked. It was going to be a long night.

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #john shelby imagine #shelby sister imagine #arthur shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine

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yourkeeperoftherunners · 7 years

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You Sound so Good on Radio (RapMon AU)

Plot: AU You’re a DJ at your university’s student-run radio club and were called in to do a sample show last minute for a tour group of potential students. You caught his attention and he knew that he couldn’t go anywhere else. Especially if it meant he could share the airwaves with you at some point.

Rating: PG-13 (Language, implied cheating)

Characters: University Student!Kim Namjoon/Rap Monster x female Reader, University Student/Radio Club President!Kris (EXO-M), University Student/Fellow DJ!Johnny (NCT-127), and mentions of Seokjin and Yoongi (BTS)

Notes: This is an AU setting – all characters, background content, and storyline are fictional! This was an idea I’ve had kicking around in my head inspired by the writer’s personal experience of working in student-run radio shows at school. (It sat on the back burner until I realized it would be a good fit for music lover and brainy student Kim Namjoon.) Y/S/N stands for “your screen name”, Y/E/N is “your ex’s name”, and Y/DJ/N is “your DJ name.”

Happy Birthday Namjoon!

“Can I ask you to do a last minute show?”

“Uhhh maybe,” you drawled as you pressed your phone to your ear, “when?”

He sucked in a sharp breath and forced a smile as he revealed that he needed you to get over to the student radio booth in 40 minutes. Your eyes widened and you changed direction.

“Damn you Kris,” you hissed as you dug around in your bag, briefly checking that you had the essentials. “You’re lucky my next class was canceled – what’s this all about?”

“Potential students tour,” Kris explained. “Sorry Y/N – they threw this on me last minute too. Admissions wanted to show off the student radio program and they wanted a show playing live when the tour came through. I sort of panicked and didn’t know who to ask.”

“You owe me,” you warned him as you made a beeline for the studio, unlocking the door with your ID card. “Are there any rules Admissions set?”

“No profanity because it’s a daytime show, don’t run over into the next scheduled show’s slot…” Kris trailed off, biting his lip. “Um maybe pick some happy tunes or something? I don’t know – just make it seem cool to join radio, okay?”

“I’ll try. Wonder why they care all of sudden,” you droned as you pulled out your laptop and began pulling songs into a playlist.

“How do you take your coffee?” he asked.

“Make it the largest size available and you’re a godsend,” you said before hanging up. You plugged in the cords from the dashboard and began adding in bumpers that would play in between every 3 songs to promote the studio radio station. Complaints aside, radio was a welcome escape for you whenever you wanted a break from the stress of college. Anyone could apply to have a radio program, as long as they showed up for their time slot, followed the radio airwave rules, and attended the radio meetings that took place every other week.

“You’re listening to a special broadcast of Nocturnal Beats, coming to you live and in stereo from the radio station,” you announced into the microphone. “You just heard music from Halsey, a beautiful cover of Adele’s “Hello” by Alice Olivia, and “Skool Luv” by BTS. Speaking of school love, why not show your support for our talented lacrosse team at this Saturday’s game? Game starts at 7 PM, tickets are $7 at the gate…” You tore a glance at the bulletin board nearby to make sure you were covering all of the announcements posted during your talking break. From the corner of your left eye, you spotted a large group of families coming into the building, led by a student tour guide. Satisfied that you covered everything posted, you wrapped up your talking segment as you teased the next few songs coming up in the hour.

“Over here is the student radio booth – all of the programs broadcast are put on by students for students,” the guide said as she gestured to the booth. “Parents and friends are welcome to download the app or live stream it from your computer or WI-fi enabled devices to listen in as well. We have programs running 7 days a week from 7 AM to midnight, ranging from music, talk shows, and we’ve even had a few radio dramas played during the airwaves.”

You avoided the crowd’s gaze as you slotted in a bumper that announced that they were tuned into the student radio site, before blending it out to the next song – a mellow R&B tune from BIGBANG called “Blue”. You pulled the headphones off and switched the mic to off before checking the volume controls and scrolling through the radio instant chat function to answer messages.

js_giraffe: U cheating on me for daytime?

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you typed back to Johnny, AKA your friend who hosted a late night rant/talk show on Wednesdays. Occasionally you put in a guest appearance if he needed someone to banter with on the topics of choice for the shows – most people found your dynamic with him hilarious, especially if he tried to switch accents while you called him out for being a loser.

Y/S/N: ha try Kris needed someone to show off for the tour groups.

js_giraffe: O.o The model DJ…

js_giraffe: I’m not worthy! I’m not worthy!

Y/S/N: STFU

Y/S/N: It’s a one-time deal – get over your damn self!

“Now if you follow me, I’ll show you the mailroom,” the tour guide announced as she gestured to a hallway. Most of the families began to follow her to the next room while one young man lingered behind, tilting his head as he watched you switch between answering Johnny’s IMs and queuing more music for the remaining 15 minutes. He glanced over his shoulder at the group and quickly made up his mind to walk over to the glass separating you from him, tapping lightly on it.

You jerked your head up from looking at your laptop screen and held up a finger as you got up, making your way over to the entrance to the booth.

“Hi, may I help you?” you asked as you stuck your head out.

“Oh um ye-yeah!” the young man said. “How is the radio program here? Do you like it?” he asked with a faint accent.

“It’s a lot of fun,” you said slowly with a smile. “I really like it – this is my second year doing it. I started last spring and I’ve been doing it ever since. You can focus on any topic/style of show you want for the most part.” You frowned when you noticed the tour group was long gone.

“Oh I think you um-”

“I’ll find them – no worries,” he replied. He asked you more questions about the studio equipment, scheduling, requirements, etc. before you realized you were at the final 2 minutes of your program.

“Hang on, I need to close out the hour,” you apologized before running back into the station. You slipped the headphones on and turned the mic on, fading out the last song that was playing. “Looks like it’s last call gang – thanks for tuning into this special edition. I’ll catch you at my usual slot Friday night from 10-11 PM. Until then.” You turned off the mic and carefully unplugged your laptop, turning on instrumentals recorded in the station’s dashboard’s memory to fill the void while you packed up. Once you secured your bag on your shoulder, you headed to the door and frowned when you saw the young man was gone.

“So are you crossing this school off your list Joonie?” Yoongi asked his friend over the phone. “I mean, it’s kind of far and you don’t know a lot of English –“

“Actually I think I’m going to apply,” Namjoon replied with a grin as he leaned against the wall. “Campus is nice, professors seem decent, and I like their student life.”

“Wae?! But you can’t leave meeeeeeee!!!” the other male whined. “You’ll be too far away!”

“I think you can survive without me,” Namjoon chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair. “Besides, we can always call or Skype. Plus I’ll be home for the holidays.”

“But you have to apply first,” Seokjin interrupted, taking the phone from Yoongi. “There’s no guarantee this school will take you. Make sure you have back-ups in case.”

Namjoon snorted as he changed his phone to his other ear. He reassured Seokjin that he’d apply to a few local schools back home, just to be safe before hanging up and heading back to the area where the tour started. It was clear in his mind – he was getting in here no matter what.

“Welcome back,” Johnny greeted you as you took a seat in the auditorium beside him.

“Right back at you,” you replied, dropping your bag on the ground. “How was your summer?”

He shrugged and muttered that he split his time between Chicago and South Korea, thanks to his parents’ divorce. You listened as he described the tension during each stay, as both single parents had expressed their true feelings about one another to Johnny.

“Sorry Johnny,” you said with a sympathetic smile, “hey so, are you doing late night again?”

Johnny nodded and you confirmed that you were in again for another late night slot, as it was your favorite time to broadcast. You weren’t forced to be as strict with the profanity during timeslots closer to midnight and it was a fun way to get hyped for the weekend. Because this would be your third year of radio, you’d get first dibs on timeslots. A few days prior to the start of the new semester, you had gotten an e-mail from Kris asking if you wanted your old timeslot back, which you replied you did.

“All right guys! Can I have your attention please?” Kris called out, trying to regain control of the large group of students chattering away. He waited a few minutes before speaking again.

“Welcome to University Radio Club,” he began, “if you’re here because you’re taking radio as an elective or just because you want to, you’re in the right place. We meet every other week here at 9 PM – attendance is mandatory for those taking this as an elective. If you are brand new to radio, we’ll start taking sign ups for timeslots via e-mail. Please send us your top three choices and we’ll let you know if any are available. Past DJs will get first choice. Any questions so far?”

“The D-bag’s not doing radio anymore, right?” Johnny whispered as he leaned closer to you.

You shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. The “D-bag” in question was your ex, who cheated on you for two sorority chicks during a Greek life party. You swore he purposely chose the timeslot after you so he could saunter in and ruin your good mood with his presence, as his show was after yours for 3 semesters.

“I’ll deal with it like usual,” you muttered as you watched Kris start discussing the history of radio to the students taking this for credit.

“Welcome back to your place for top hits, fresh sounds, and jams to get you in the mood for your weekend – this is Nocturnal Beats!” you said into the mic with a smile. “Hope everyone stayed cool this summer. The bell may have rung but the fun’s never ending – I’ve got some new sounds to share from EXO and Twenty One Pilots so keep it here for this hour.”

Once you switched off the microphone, your phone buzzed with a text from Kris.

Galaxy

I’ll buy you a drink this weekend if you can do a last minute training for the rookie coming in after you.

Sent 10:07 PM

You

Fine.

Sent 10:08 PM

Hang on – rookie? Not Y/E/N?

Sent 10:08 PM

Galaxy

Nah he never answered my e-mail about radio this semester. This guy’s a first year – asked specifically for this slot.

Sent 10:09 PM

Tall, blonde hair in an undercut, name’s Namjoon Kim. He’s doing a rap show.

Sent 10:10 PM

You frowned as you re-read the texts and typed back a simple OK to Kris. Well, you could breathe easy – no asshole ex to deal with this semester. But you were surprised this kid got a prime spot – most first timers weren’t so lucky and would get an afternoon slot or an early morning time. Albeit his radio show content was probably better suited for nighttime versus editing out every curse word and innuendo possible. You’d meet him soon enough.

You shuttled a few IMs to Johnny and tore your gaze away from your laptop to see a tall Asian guy approaching the station, eerily fitting the description Kris texted you. He was busy typing something on his phone as he approached the radio station, walking into the door with a thud.

You blinked as you scrambled to your feet, eyes wide as he staggered back a few steps, wincing and cursing in Korean as he touched his forehead. Without wasting more time, you queued up a few more songs and a bumper before opening the door and checking on him.

“Hey you okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he said as he pushed his dark framed glasses up on his nose. He shot you a sheepish smile and put his phone away in his pocket.

You studied him thoughtfully, examining his features. He looked awfully familiar…

“Hey so Y/N right? I don’t know you if you remember me, well I had dark hair last time we met, but um…” he trailed off, a shy smile on his face.

“Hang on, were you the guy who got left behind by the tour group to ask me questions about the radio station?” you recalled as you stepped out of the doorway. “Last semester in mid-March, right?”

He nodded as his smile spread across his face, resulting in the cutest dimples on his cheeks. You blinked as you silently compared the previous image you had of him in your mind to the guy standing before you now. He was cute then but with the blonde color and new haircut, he looked hot. It also sounded like his English had improved and the lingering trace of his accent was barely noticeable. Summer sure was kind to him…

“Wow I didn’t know you got in – congrats!” you replied as you nudged the door open wider, letting him into the station waiting room. “Welcome to university! I can’t believe you decided to take up radio too.”

Namjoon stepped through the doorway and watched as you closed the door to the station. “Well, it’s a funny story,” he began as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “A really chill DJ was doing a special show during my tour visit and she had a really hot voice. I was kind of a loser just staring at her and asking her dumb questions about radio, but she was so patient and really nice. So I felt encouraged to apply – I mean, I liked the classes and the professors too, but hearing this DJ was like the icing on the cake. I wanted to come here and do radio too. Maybe run into her again.”

You ducked your head and smiled, crossing your arms over your chest. “You found me Namjoon,” you replied.

He squared his shoulders and allowed a slightly cocky smile to cross his lips. “Rap Monster. No DJ, just Rap Monster around here.”

You contemplated his moniker and nodded in approval.

“It suits you,” you said. “Well you’ll go live for your first show in 10 minutes – think you’re ready?”

He removed his glasses from his nose and swapped them for a pair of dark wayfarers, pushing them up on his nose.

“Bring it on Y/DJ/N.”

#Kim Namjoon #Happy Birthday Namjoon #Rap Monster #Rap Monster imagine #Kim Namjoon imagine #BTS Rap Monster #BTS AU #BTS imagine #KNJ #yourkeeperoftherunners original #number 2118

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