#this song was my jam a few years ago

[hella1975]

my sister is currently doing her nightly *douse myself in water for 5 mins despite it leaving PUDDLES EVERYWHERE BTW and then spend 20 mins applying imported skincare i spent all my money on* in SILENCE sans any form of music meanwhile she walked in on me having a party of one (1) at myself in the bathroom mirror to set it off of all things. it's a bit funny that we are related by blood

[socialtomcat]

i know im 350 episodes deep into magtav rn but well. i fear a punch up the jam relisten is brewing within meme

[kedsandtubesocks]

dance away your cowboy blues

Country Singer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: who knew the man with the voice of an angel could break your heart this bad?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern/no outbreak AU & Joel has both his daughters, exes to lovers with eventual husband!Joel, angst followed up by good sweet fluff, concert venue, light drinking mention, Joel being stubborn & bad at feelings, hints of spice, fools in love, reader is addressed as ‘honey, darlin,’ use of song lyrics in fic, Pearl Jam & Taylor Swift song mentions, soft & heartbroken!Joel, lovesick!Joel

word count: 6k

a/n: here we are - the last installment in our ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series & I’m so incredibly grateful to finally make it here, also this is my mini tribute to our boy and his SAG award! The main song Joel sings is this one and I highly recommend! Thank you to my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you for letting me scream about plot holes & aiding my Joel brainrot, @tightjeansjavi for always being down to chat about Joel, and to @lowlights & @ahauntedcowboy for being my ever guiding forces for this series, thank you all… And finally to you reading this, thank you so much ♡

A year ago, Joel broke up with you on a warm early spring morning.

He arrived at your apartment, sat you down and shattered your world. You felt every range of emotion as he simply stood there like a man of steel.

So upset and angry, you wanted to rip your heart out and throw it at him.

Then later that week you found out his record was officially getting picked up and you crumbled.

Ending your relationship simply because he was about to step into true proper fame - you never took Joel to be a man so somberly callous. However, you began wondering if that’s what fame sometimes did to people.

When curiosity gnawed too hard, you’d Google him or even check Spotify. Simply catching glimpses of how big he’s gotten sent you spiraling. Last Thanksgiving, your favorite aunt threatened to lock your phone away when she found you upset in the bathroom after discovering Joel was performing at the Dallas Cowboys holiday game.

From that point on you refused to even check any amount of social media or update on him.

A few clunky first dates and a couple of ghosting experiences later, you’ve now decided to simply work on yourself and embrace the selfcare of being single.

It’s why when your best friend called you earlier today eagerly explaining how her parents had extra tickets to the Rodeo tonight, she playfully teased how she knew you didn’t have anything planned for this Saturday night.

You almost hung up on her, but you excitedly scrambled to get ready.

Now the smell of fried foods, popcorn, and beer cloud the air. The fairgrounds hold a chaotic but controlled lively energy. You never knew so many cowboy hats could exist in one space.

Once you meet up with your best friends' parents, you’re transported to a whole new area you never believed could exist during a rodeo. Lux and cozy, the VIP lounge gleams with its elevated experience. You knew your best friend’s mom worked for the construction company managing the arena. You just didn’t realize how big of a hookup it was. The VIP tickets allowed for full premium dining along with a couple of free drinks.

More importantly - it came with the best concert seats.

“In the dirt” is how they’re described because the tickets are literally stationed on the floor, in the dirt of the rodeo stadium, right by the stage.

Ecstatic and bubby energy now fills you. The food being served is divine and you gladly enjoy the free various drinks.

“So wait, did we figure out who’s performing?” You ask curiously while you lounge taking advantage of the nice seating area.

“Uh, I think my dad said it’s that band named Midland is performing today.” Your friend answers but then is quickly pulled away to meet more of her mom’s coworkers.

You’ve never heard of the band, but for a free concert you’re open to enjoy some live music.

It’s a trait you gained from Joel.

Because of him you grew to love music performances, the energy that comes with hearing the band, being among the hum of the crowd. The trips around Austin seeing not just him perform, but enjoying other concerts with him, let you appreciate and admire live shows.

Waiting for the concert allows you to enjoy some of the actual rodeo event. But the main performance of the evening soon arrives.

“You kids go enjoy! We’re getting a little too old and are just gonna stay back and enjoy the free food.” Your best friend’s mom grins with a wink.

The ticket advertisement wasn’t joking when it said close to the stage. The ground level truly sits on the dirt floor. The arena swallows you whole surrounding you like a strange fishbowl. A small crowd already lines the front railing closest to the stage. However sneakily you find a nice open spot by the side that gives a clear sight to the stage.

Even if you don’t know the band, giddiness bubbles in you electric.

You take in the massive general admission floor section already packed full. The band must be popular. So you take plenty of pictures and happily enjoy the time with your dear friend.

The lights dim and excitement crackles in the air. The stage lights up. The large backdrop screens on the stage flutter to life beginning to showcase different picturesque black and white shots of Texas.

Midland, you remember, is a city in Texas so the images make sense. A low strum of a guitar begins playing. The melody dances soft but in a quick beat, a hypnotic tune trying to rev up the crowd.

The tune brews up its intended magic that you even get swept up in the anticipation. The sound gets faster and the strumming is rather simple but so striking.

Then the music stops. Suddenly the lights of the entire stadium shut off. Wild galvanized screams erupt.

The lights brilliantly dance forth back to light. They all focus now on the performer who, like magic, now appears on the stage with the rest of the band.

And the lead singer is Joel.

Your knees almost give out.

Dressed in the most dangerous plaid green button up, it so simple yet beautifully compliments him. More grays pepper his beard and highlight his tousled curls. The brilliant stage lights bask him in a heavenly glow.

Your soul momentarily leaves your body the minute his voice sings his first note.

Instantly your best friend whips towards you panicked. She rapidly screams asking if you’re okay as she apologizes over and over.

“My dad must have gotten the dates wrong! God I should’ve fucking doubled checked or some shit!” She cries deeply apologetic and hurt.

You earnestly tell her it’s not her fault and it’s alright. It was just an unfortunate mixup.

“Do you wanna leave?” Your friend leans closer to you. Her eyes shine understanding and considerate. “We didn’t pay for these tickets and I promise you my parents will completely understand. We can say fuck it and bounce.”

You haven’t even completely processed it’s Joel. It’s like your brain went cloudy and now blinking out of the fog, your eyes return to the stage.

Joel isn’t an extroverted man. He’s reserved, quietly charming, even holds a gruff but poised grace. But right now, he’s an absolute sun on the stage. He’s radiant, naturally swaying to the music while singing his soul soul.

Maybe it’s the piece of you still horribly in love with him, or just the curiosity to see how this goes, whatever it is - you shake your head no.

“We can stay.”

Your best friend’s eyes go wide as saucers hearing your answer.

“Are you sure?” She presses and you nod your head.

“Yeah, let’s stay. Afterwards we can laugh about how old he’s gotten.” You laugh bitterly about him looking more aged even after a year.

When truthfully the stronger wrinkles around his face, the vibrant grays, all of his aging only intensifies his striking looks.

A canyon wide sized hole rips through your heart.

The song flutters to an end and the crowd claps with a thunderous roar. With a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder your dear friend nods then turns back to the concert.

You pray this isn’t the worst decision you’ve ever made.

Then Joel speaks.

“Howdy everyone,” his voice is still so devilishly thick and smooth as a shot of moonshine. His accent does his home state proud. The crowd absolutely adores him, screaming loud just hearing him speak.

“Thank y'all for comin’ out tonight. I’m Joel Miller and m’here to sing y’all a few songs.” So simple, casually eased, and it’s so Joel.

His gruff southern charm made you fall in love with him so fast and now it’s a unique brand of magic charming everyone under his spell.

Joel strums a few notes, rapidly shifting the tune and transitions into the next song.

You now fully soak in Joel.

He seems otherworldly, a god of music reincarnated as a Texan cowboy. You think back to the days sitting in his living room and listening to him play. You were honored to see that side of him, to hear him strum to life so much magic.

During the holiday’s Joel’s daughters, Ellie and Sarah, would often pester him to sing silly songs. He’d grumpily obliged but you knew he basked in their attention and love.

He loved to sing. You always knew he was destined for the stage like it was woven into his veins.

You still remember the day one of Joel’s acoustic performances blew up online gaining so much attention. The excitement and absolute joy you felt then still lingers in the corners of your heart. Although, those feelings have been gathering cobwebs.

There’s of course a bitterness seeing him, but also, an unbearably small twinkling pride knowing he’s here living his dream. The song finishes and again the stadium rumbles in applause.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” Joel asks and your heart jumps hearing his voice again.

The crowd cheers back at him.

“Good good, let’s keep it goin’.” He yells back and then strums the guitar sharp.

That’s when the stage slowly starts moving.

It’s slow but with the surprise purpose to look out to the entire crowd. For some reason you almost laugh thinking of that man, who couldn’t even remember how to FaceTime on his ipad, on a full rotating platform.

However, the lyrics start and you realize he’s singing a heartbreak ballad.

If you’re going out with someone new, I’m going out with someone too…I won’t feel sorry for me, I’m getting drunk but I’d much rather be somewhere with you…

It’s hard hearing him now with how exhilarated the crowd screams at the stage moving. But you try to hear how the rest of the song unfolds.

At the chorus, your throat tightens.

I can go out every night of the week, can go home with anybody I meet, but it’s just a temporary high… ‘cause when I close my eyes, I’m somewhere with you

The words sting every inch of you, but you believe it has to be just a simple heartbreak story and isn’t about you, isn’t directed at you. Yet the words feel like sharpened edges of a broken mirror that seem to reflect every moment of your time with him.

Then the stage rotates to your side of the floor.

There’s no way he can see you or will even spot you. There’s a whole crowd stretching before him. You’re just a fish in a sea of fans.

Joel continues strumming, allowing his voice to so beautifully carry the emotion.

The stage, in its slow movement, is now front and center to your line of sight. Some girls at the very direct front of the railing scream and wave frantically at him.

A small smile tugs at Joel’s lips as he waves back. Joel’s eyes scan the rest of the crowd -

And that’s when he spots you.

Quickly, you rationalize he could be staring out behind you at someone else alongside the side railing.

But Joel’s eyes even narrow trying to focus more. Your gaze stays on him, like something inside of you refuses to waiver.

His eyes flicker with realization then turn into full moons.

He knows it’s you.

Joel continues singing the chorus but emotions cloud his face. His brows are furrowed hard, almost confused like he’s trying to really comprehend what’s going on.

You understand. You’d be so confused too if you were in his position. You’re still even baffled as to why you stayed in the first place.

The stage starts shifting back to the main center direction

But Joel cranes his face to the side, refusing to have his eyes leave.

His focus stays on you.

It’s obvious enough that your best friend now shakes your body.

“Is he staring at you?!” She tries to whisper but she ends up partly screaming.

You think maybe it’s a hallucination.

Yet Joel’s deep inky eyes stubbornly stay locked on you as he sings now.

If you see out on the town and it looks like I’m burning it down, you won’t ask and I won’t say… but in my heart I’m always somewhere with you…

Your world twists warped, melting into a sea of so many emotions you can’t stay afloat.

Joel finishes his song and the crowd enthusiastically cheers. Yet, it sounds muffled as a numbness crawls over you like a thick soupy fog.

You should leave. You need to. But you’re here now. And decide to see the end of this. If he’s singing about someone lingering within him, then you might as well make true to those lyrics.

Joel lowers his face for a moment and shakes his head. The mic faintly picks up his cough of a disbelieving laugh and your heart sinks.

“Alright folks, let’s jam.” He announces composed and brings his guitar to life.

He’s beautiful walking around with it. Strums effortlessly until he shifts from one guitar, his classic, to a more sleek all black styled one.

Joel lets the music and band take over while he makes the switch. He also leans in to whisper something to the stage hand.

Then as if nothing, Joel steps back into the limelight and illuminates the stage.

He walks around freely now that the stage stopped rotating. The current song is lively with a great beat and you hate how badly you want to bounce around to its infectious sound and the way Joel’s voice elevates the tune.

Caught up in the melody, you don’t notice until it’s too late. Joel walks over to the side of the stage directly facing you.

The guitar carries a large piece of this song’s bridge allowing his eyes to flicker across the crowd.

Until they return to your gaze. Stuck in his stare, Joel suddenly cocks his chin towards you.

Most of the crowd around you screams at his simple action. Even your best friend yells out a loud ‘holy shit’ but you stay quiet.

Not knowing how to react, all you do is stupidly shrug.

It’s awful, not even the best reaction you can give.

But Joel barks a laugh, a true laugh that thankfully happens at the tail end of the song, but your knees go weak.

You made him laugh.

On stage.

Heartache finds its way back into your system fiercer than ever and it poisonously tastes of adoration as well.

Joel transitions into another song. This time moving around the stage more towards the other side.

Yet, either his eyes flicker back to you, or he ends up walking to your section.

A part of you wonders if he’s doing this now to mock you, almost showing off how good he is knowing you’re here. You don’t believe Joel would be that heartless, but you hate how that option still lingers.

“He’s been walking over here a lot.” Someone even behind you even notices.

“Well he is old.” Someone yells back. “Maybe he’s just trying to keep his joints in shape.”

You almost want to snap back that he’s looking damn good for his age and in good enough shape that he kept you bent like a pretzel for practically a whole weekend, but you swallow back the protective bite.

You simply go back to enjoying the show, and it’s fantastic. You can’t deny that. Joel is a performer, keeps the crowd focused and engaged. He isn’t showy or dramatic but takes control of his presence on stage.

You think of the days seeing him at small bars around town, sitting on a stool playing till his heart's content.

Then he booked Stubb’s in Austin and when you watched him own that stage - you knew this was meant for him.

You’re reminded of that so vividly tonight.

“Alright, gettin’ to the end here.” He announces and the crowd sounds heartbroken.

“I know, i know,” he coos back soft and low. “But just wanted to say y’all have been lovely.”

So many shrill shrieks crack in the room and you almost roll your eyes.

Your best friend snickers beside you. “Gotta give it to him, man can work a room.”

She’s right of course. Though it’s still so surprising for a man grumpily reserved and introverted at times.

“This next one I hope maybe some of y’all will know.”

He strums the cords to Pearl Jam’s ‘Alive.’

What gained Joel traction online was his renditions and covers of various songs. He added his own country twang and twist to all the songs he covered.

Pearl Jam happened to be one of Ellie’s favorite bands. A hollow nostalgia rip through you, thinking of the two girls you miss.

The crowd ignites recognizing the familiar rock ballad now turned into the tune of a country song by Joel’s touch. He owns the solo and his husky voice melts into the lyrics beautifully.

Under your breath you sing along. You used to sing along when you cooked breakfast at his place or during drives with him and the girls.

It’s a beautiful fondness, yet one still barbed and so aching.

The song ends with the intense but small burst of fireworks that has the stadium cheering. You even clap.

“Appreciate y’all.” He addresses the crowd. “That’s a one of my daughter’s favorites so always means a lot when I get to play it.”

A smile you can’t fight tugs at your lips at the mention of Ellie.

“Now my daughters, they’re like night ‘n day.” Joel continues and your heart fills up so overwhelming fast for those girls.

“One of them, like I said, loves some Pearl Jam. Now my other daughter…” Joel pauses.

“She’s a big fan of someone by the name of Taylor Swift.”

The crowd absolutely explodes and you think you even feel the arena shake. Sarah honestly was a big fan and Ellie loved to tease her about it so much.

“Normally for this next and final song, I’d play ‘‘shake it off.’” Joel had a few songs of hers that he covered. That one was a fan favorite.

“But tonight, I'm itchin’ to play somethin’ else.” He continues.

You even perk up curious.

“So let’s end this on a high note, yeah? Sing along if you know this one.” Joel concludes.

Then the drums begin and the song bursts to life.

The stadium swims in a dizzying frantic energy.

The way Joel sings, he’s pouring his heart out. He’s memorizing. Utterly heart wrenching.

This is the finale, the end of this strange unreal dream you’ve wandered into. You wonder if he feels it too.

The song’s chilling bridge comes and Joel walks to stare directly at you.

I thought I had you figured out, can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…

His eyes never leave yours.

The lyrics sear through your heart. You think about screaming the song to back him. He’s the one who left, the one who’s ghost lives among your ribs.

Then Joel hits the final high note, lets his voice carry the powerful finale, and the crowd roars in earth shaking excitement.

It’s magical, magnetic and utterly devastating in both the best and worst ways. Another few sets of indoor fireworks go off and the show ends.

Joel wishes the crowd a beautiful night and you’re left in a tangled web of emotions.

Your best friend immediately turns to see if you’re okay. While the crowd starts leaving, you and her take a moment. Out of the edge of your focus, you notice a crew member of the arena approaching the side of the rail. You don’t think anything of it.

“Excuse me,” until that crew member stands in front of you on the other side of the barrier.

Blinking absolutely confused you turn towards the man.

“I’ve been asked to escort you backstage.” He explains and your best friend gasps.

You wonder if the ground opened below and dropped you into a free fall.

Quickly you stammer out that you couldn’t. There's no way. Maybe the man must’ve mistaken you for someone else.

“Mr. Miller said you’d say something like that.” The crew member says reaching into his pocket to hand you something.

It’s a keychain.

Not just any keychain, but the one you gave Joel.

It’s a cartoon armadillo, dressed up as a cowboy, holding a guitar. When you first saw it you immediately thought of Joel. His daughters got a kick over it, giggled at how cute it was, and your heart had bursted when you saw it constantly among his keys.

Now the worn little cowboy creature sits waiting for you. It’s sweet marble like eyes stare up at you like a day hasn’t gone by since you gave Joel this.

Your best friend gasps, maybe not fully recognizing the keychain but understanding the significance.

You ask the crew member if your friend can maybe accompany you backstage, but he shakes his head a sad no.

“Then I…I can’t.” You shakily breathe out.

“Yes you can!” She interjects. “You gotta at least hear him out!”

You turn to her and find determination fiercely burning in her eyes as she nods.

“But what about you? I don’t want you or your parents waiting around for me.” You urge.

“Don’t worry about me or especially about them!” She reassures, even offering to wait for as long as you need.

You’re grateful, unbearably so and embrace her tight.

“You call me if he gets stupid. I don’t care backstage or not, I’ll go get you.”

You laugh watery at her well meaning threat and thank her. With a quick sweet goodbye, you follow the crew member along the rails until exiting.

The walk out to the backstage area fills you with a hurricane of emotions. What else could Joel say to you? A part of you wonders if he’s going to be cruel about this, having you simply show up to his dressing room just to laugh so arrogant and smug about how wonderfully famous he is now.

No, Joel isn’t that type of man.

Or you hope fame hasn't warped him into that type of man. Arriving at the green room door, your heart races loud in your ears.

The crew member knocks and before you can compose yourself, Joel opens the door.

He’s bathed in the golden amber light of the backstage room. It highlights all those grays again but also illuminates more of the time passed on his face. More winkles line against his eyes and when he fully stares at you, you wonder how different you might look in his eyes.

A jackrabbit like urge rushes over you to maybe flee, call your best friend to come get you.

“Thanks for comin’,” he mutters out. “Was worried ya wouldn’t show.”

You want to bitterly joke that you didn’t want to, but the armadillo keychain you hang onto holds the truth.

The door closes leaving you and Joel alone. Awkward stale air chokes the space.

You simply keep your attention on examining the room. His classic weathered jacket rests thrown over the couch. The rider is stacked with so many classic Joel snacks like his favorite jerky, popcorn, and even a few familiar favorite treats his daughters love.

Then your eyes catch the mug on the counter and you grin softly.

It must be filled with Joel’s classic drink - chamomile and ginger tea with honey for his throat.

“It’s…yeah. That’s it.”

You didn’t even realize you said anything out loud until Joel replies casuing your heart to jump. Finally your eyes find his.

It's a curse that your greatest heartbreak is this handsome. Exhaustion weighs in you and feels ancient, like if you carry the sum of so many lifetimes before.

“So…You wanted to talk to me?” You speak first, trying to keep yourself strong.

“I…uh yeah.” Answering so cryptically, his shoulders deflate. “How ya been?”

“Good.” You answer simple, curt almost.

There’s too many things that could’ve slipped out if you said anything more. Like how you selfishly kept one of his shirts and hate that the smell of him on it has faded like a wistful memory. Or how you can barely listen to Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash anymore because you’re reminded of Joel singing along to their songs.

So you turn the conversation back to him.

You ask how the girls are and Joel perks up, eyes shimmering with fatherly pride.

“Good, yeah they’re good. Uh, Ellie’s playing softball for the school again ‘n Sarah’s busy with student council. They’re still just bossin’ me all around.”

“As usual.”

You both say the same line at the same time and it chokes you up.

Joel inhales and his lips press tight, a hard line. The air tightens. No one says anything and now annoyance, frustration and maybe even a bit of panic claw at you.

“Joel, why am I here?” You ask him again.

Sighing, so weary and tired, he looks down.

Feels like ages pass between you and him. The faint noise of the stadium leaks into the room muffled.

You think of your best friend waiting and of your own heart waiting to end this.

“Look, it was good to see you,” you half lie. “You did great, hope you and the girls take care”

You turn to walk out.

That’s when he blurts out your name and you stop.

“I miss you.” He exhales.

“Miss ya so g’damn much. Every fuckin’ day.” He mutters.

When you turn back around, he stares at you unwavering. You don’t know what to say.

“Seein’ ya out in the crowd…thought m’heart was gonna give out.” He barks a weak laugh.

“Almost stoppin’ the fuckin’ show just to make sure it was you… y’look beautiful as ever.” His eyes haze over slightly, almost nostalgic.

Suddenly a heated spark rips into your chest, jagged edged and angered.

“You broke up with me.” You snap, voice already raw.

“I know,” Joel nods. “Worst damn decision of m’life.”

Your lips tremble. Everything hurts like a live wire is burning up your veins.

“Then why? Why did you do it?” You croak. You want to scream, maybe even storm out and not even give him the chance to speak.

“What? Did Mr. Big Country Star hate having a partner that wasn’t famous too?” Venom leaks bitter and poisonous in your mouth, choking your throat.

“Y’know god damn well that ain’t it.” He snarls back hard.

“No actually I fucking don’t know Joel.” You reply with a fierce bite. “You so conveniently left out any real damn reason why you were breaking up with me.”

“I said our paths were going in separate directions.” He glares hard at you now.

“And that’s about it!” Your voice raises and you hate it.

The tears come quicker than you hoped for and you hate that more.

“No real explanation,” you exhale, wanting to stay as calm as you can. “You couldn’t even give me that…what else am I supposed to think?”

Even dabbing away your tears, your composure is slowly slipping.

“I couldn’t do this to you,” he breathes out and it’s broken. His eyes are shimmering obsidian pools.

“This life, all the fuckin’ mess that comes with dating someone in the limelight, I couldn’t just throw that on ya.” He explains and the truth rings out a quiet hum.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?” You whisper out now hurt. “Joel, I thought we were a team.”

“We are- were.” He slips and corrects himself fast. “I just knew if we fuckin’ talked about it you wouldn’t have understood.”

“Understood what?” You’re frustrated and it leaks into your voice.

“That I didn’t want ya fuckin’ hatin’ me!” He finally screams the weighted truth.

Stunned quiet but still slightly confused, you ask Joel what he means.

Pain travels across Joel’s handsome face as his jaw clenches hard.

“This shit…it takes away a lot.” He croaks out. “Hell I’ve even missed things with the girls. Didn’t want ya sacrificin’ your life or wakin’ up one day and realizin’ how much you’ve lost ‘cause of me…couldn’t let myself do that to you.”

Your chest aches like a rocket got shot into you. You’re angry he took that chance for you to decide, but you understand.

Joel never wants to be the cause of pain to others, especially those he loves.

He agonizes so much over his decisions and how corrupting he believes he is. When in reality every action he takes you know simply stems from his endless deep devotion to keep those he loves safe.

His decision to end your relationship was him, in his own frustrating Joel way, trying to keep you safe. Even if it was from himself.

Your lips tremble and you cuss bitterly hard under your breath.

“You damn stupid man.” You hiccup. “I didn’t…I don’t care what life fame would’ve given me with you. I would never resent you. For better or worse I just wanted a life with you, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Through a few sobs, you wipe the tears fogging up your sight.

Before you can see it happening, strong sturdy arms suddenly wrap around you and shock you breathless. Curled in Joel’s arms, it’s like a sad coming home party and you cry even more.

“M’so sorry, my darlin’.” Joel whispers against your forehead.

“I hate you.” You don’t. Even on your hardest days, you never could.

“I know, hate my fuckin’ ass too.” Joel replies.

His arms squeeze you tighter.

“Never stopped lovin’ you. Never will.” His voice wavers and now your arms wrap around him.

“You left.” You whisper back so small while tears continue to prickle in your eyes.

“I know honeydew, ‘n I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He replies fiercely like a strike of lightning with its bright force. “Been a fuckin’ mess without ya. Tommy would be the first to agree and the girls too.”

You absorb his words, basking in the safe haven that is Joel. Hours, maybe days pass just in his arms.

“Please forgive me, baby.” He whispers hoarse against your head.

You nod a soft yes.

Because even the part of you that wants to yell and stubbornly say no knows the ultimate answer is, and always will be, him.

“Of course…I love you.” You mutter half dazed against his strong chest. “Love of my life.”

Pressed so close to him, you feel how hard he swallows and his arms squeeze you impossibly tighter against you.

He says your name and you hum out a soft noise.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes, which have sort of glazed over, snap open wide.

“What?” You mutter out, maybe think you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Joel repeats himself.

You practically squawk like a confused bird and scramble in his arms.

“Joel Miller, you can’t be serious?!” You shriek through the tears still lingering in your voice.

Your face snaps up to him. His face is composed, almost serene in a way as he look at you with molten eyes.

“Serious as that g’damn ring I bought ya.”

His words are a mumble but so soft and unwavering. Your soul leaves your body like you were thrown into a cold lake.

“You what?” You stammer out.

“Y’heard me.” He nudges his chin to you. “A ring. Bought it after you dropped everything to go take care of the girls when they got sick.”

Too many emotions overwhelm you and the tears return with a vengeance.

Joel, like a steady man in the storm, places his warm hand on your face to gather you back into his embrace. He places the softest kiss to the side of your head.

“We gotta have a chat about discussing your feelings with me more, Miller.” You manage to chide him through your tears.

“I know.” He mutters against your skin while he continues softly kissing you with utter tenderness. “‘N I’m not lettin’ ya go again.”

You squeeze him hard, trying to burn his memory into your arms worried you’re going to wake up and find this is just a heartbroken hallucination.

“Baby,” he begins.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me for the night.” He urges. “The bus got plenty of room-”

“Ooo, is this what you say to all your groupies, Mr. Miller?” You tease with a snort.

“Behave.” His hand playfully squeezes your hip but his underlying somber tone even with his chuckle ignites a familiar heat brewing in you of the times he’s reprimanded you like that before.

“No groupies.” Joel reassures you. “Only you sweetheart, only ever gonna be you.”

His words flutter into your heart and make a nest there.

Gently you draw back to stare at Joel. Your hand moves to his face, aching to just touch him. Even in his arms you’re waiting for him to vanish from your touch as if he’s a figment of your wrecked heart, a ghost of lovers past haunting you now.

But his stubble tickles against your palm. Running warm as usual, his face feels like a soft morning sun. Your thumb strokes his cheek and his eyes close, melting into your hold.

Gently you place a soft kiss against the corner of his lips.

Joel now tilts his head so he can deepen the kiss before you can even draw away.

It’s not a consuming passion that you expected. No frantic fierce clash of lips or an overflow from a year passed between you two.

Instead it’s a soft welcome home. It’s a kiss you’ve given him when he’s come home late or when you leave for work.

Because his blood, his soul, you believe are simply stitched into the very fabric of you. It’s like a piece of you is returning back to you, or maybe back to your other home with him.

“So you gonna stay with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“I don’t know Miller, you haven’t even offered to sign anything for me. What kind of famous country singer are you?” You smirk against his lips.

He laughs, hearty, a true wild deep one sweeping you into its joy.

“Hell yeah I’ll fuckin’ sign something for ya, our marriage certificate.” He snaps in classic grumpy Joel fashion and you almost think about dragging him to a courthouse.

You text your friend a million apologies and even take pictures of all the signed merch you’re bringing back to her.

Now in the cocoon of Joel’s cozy bed on his tour bus, among the warmth sheets, you hold the ring up in the dim light inspecting it. Because of course your secretly romantic man kept the ring with him.

“You sure you weren’t keeping this around for someone else?” You ask.

“Fuck no.” He growls low. “S’yours…only yours.”

From behind his arms slide around you and you’re encompassed by his swallowing presence. His beard scrapes against your shoulder.

“If ya don’t like it, can get ya another one.” He mutters casually but hesitant softness peeks out from under his gruff tone.

“It’s perfect.” You reassure him.

It’s the ring Joel got you then and it’s the ring you want now and always will. You even tell him that.

The kisses places on your bare shoulder whispers of his devotion.

“Honey.” However, his voice now is hesitant and makes you pause on your ring inspecting.

“I gotta ask…but do ya have my armadillo keychain?” Joel asks with an utter somberness.

You burst out laughing and it shakes your body.

“Honeydew, I’m being serious!” He growls out. “Want that lil’ fella back!”

Wheezing with giggles you lean back against Joel, floating so blissfully floating in renewed adoration.

Twisting in his arms your lips find his.

“Tryin’ to distract me ‘cause you lost him, huh?” He mutters.

You snort, shaking your head.

“No I just love you so much, you dumb cowboy.” You tell him.

“Your dumb cowboy. For better or worse.” He vows, kissing you back firmer now.

“For better or worse,” you nod breathing into him.

In this carved out slightly cramped space it feels holy, sacred, chapel like. You’re even afraid it might be gone tomorrow morning. However, the ring on your finger is the steeled reassurance it isn’t going anywhere.

But, just in case, you gather this glory and Joel into your arms with the promise of never letting go.

[eatommo]

Kisses of Fire [j.m.]

Summary: You and Joel get caught up in a champagne-filled domestic dream, and your impulses are too strong to resist. Aka, you and Joel sing and dance in the kitchen until you can't deny your feelings any longer.

C.w: slight dub con because of alcohol consumption, mentions of parental loss, age gap (reader is in her 20s), unprotected pinv, lots of praise, pet names, Joel is a sweet talker, fluffy dancing and cooking with Joel, size kink?, creampie, squirting, oral sex (f receive), mentions of oral sex (m receive), breeding kink if you squint, mutual pining?, idk I probably missed some let me know!

A/n: Hello! I am alive! I started a new job and it's been pretty crazy but I am pleased to bring you my first Joel Miller fic and my first contribution to the Dbf!joel subgenre that has been one my favorites lately. enjoy!

~3.5k

“Joel, the sauce is going to burn.” you stumble through a laugh, trying to focus the little clarity of your mind on the chicken browning in your ceramic pan. He had insisted on opening a glass of champagne to congratulate you on your new job. It was sweet and dry, exactly what you liked, and it went down easy.

You were sitting around the coffee table gushing and hardly letting the man get a word out, and then he asked if you were hungry, and well you hadn't yet eaten and with your stomach growling at his words, he was very insistent.

In truth, you'd always looked out for each other, you'd help pick up Sarah from school, on occasion try new recipes in his much larger kitchen, and in turn, he'd fix your sink leak, install a new shower head, or even build you a new coffee table.

Here standing in his kitchen you felt so comfortable, stirring the pasta with one hand and rummaging through his cabinets for oregano with the other. It could've been the alcohol or the decade-long crush on the older man that was driving you wild.

With a rush of melody, you realized where he disappeared as the fun rhythmic beat of Be My Baby echoes through the living room and into the kitchen. Joel's words barely call above the song, “Oldies okay?”

You turn to answer him, only to catch him jamming out to the song behind you as he strides cool as a cucumber back into the kitchen. “More than okay.” You’re beaming, enjoying the music and the laid-back demeanor of his slight dance and groove.

You've cherished the few moments of joy since your father passed away a few years ago, singing with him and Sarah in the car, bullying Joel onto a rollercoaster, and summertime BBQs complete with movie marathons.

This felt different. Not only was Sarah noticeably absent, but there was an electric hum of something between you, it was almost palpable. Chalking it up to the alcohol, you settle back into your rhythm of taking care of the food in front of you with extra sway to your hips and occasionally singing into the wooden spoon like a microphone.

Joel returns to your side, stirring the thick sauce before grabbing a spoon from a drawer and tasting it. He moans around the cheap metal, throwing his head back in exaggerated ecstasy.

Hoping the heat from the stove disguises your blush, you carefully accept a spoonful he offers you after he cools with a few quick purses of his lips, humming in agreement.

“What did you say this recipe was called?” When he's been drinking, his Texan drawl lengthens, and you swallow around the lump in your throat, lord have mercy.

“Marry me chicken? It's said to get a man to marry you on its own…” you try and let your voice trail off as he grabs a colander and begins to strain the noodles for you, and before you can think you add, “I thought it would be good practice.”

You catch something in his face as he looks toward you, now mouthing the words to a song by Simon and Garfunkel, but your brain is a little too fuzzy to dissect it completely. Turning off the heat, you quickly add bacon and parmesan before tossing the chicken and sauce mixture on top of Joel's freshly strained pasta.

He hovers over you like he hasn't eaten for days, grumbling something about sweet torture as you garnish his bowl with freshly grated cheese. Turning your attention to the table you see a second bottle of champagne adorning a small dining set, and your flukes full and awaiting your attention, and your blush returns, what is happening to you?

Dismissing himself to turn the music lower, you set his plate down and settle into your chair beside his. Briefly, you consider refusing another glass, you were supposed to drive home, but his slightly tousled curls and the nonplussed smirk on his face as he walks into your field of vision wash over your body like a cool shower on a hot Austin evening, refreshing, revitalizing, and rewarding you with his simplistic beauty.

The way his eyes fell to yours with each silly verse, speaking to each moment you’ve swooned over him in private and cementing the swell of your heart. He sits and you both immediately dive into the food, moaning in unison at the salty and creamy flavor. “I get it.”

“For sure.” You confirm, shoveling more into your mouth as delicately as you can in your haste. “I’ll keep it in my back pocket for sure.” You both laugh and reach for your champagne for a toast.

“To the luckiest man in the world.” This time, he does a piss poor job of covering his shock, and you don’t dare let the moment slip from your grasp, setting your fork down, and reaching to settle your hand on his forearm, tenderly running your fingers over the rough-tanned skin.

The affection seems to coach a weight from his shoulders, as the tension in them drops and he meets your eyes with a deep and wicked sense of playfulness. Holding his gaze, and touching the lips of the flukes together you smile innocently, and hum as the cool bubbles coat your tongue and lift your confidence higher with every passing moment.

In a flash you feel the energy in the room shift, as silence flirtatious eye contact is shared between smaller sips of champagne and groans of delight, you find your eyes lingering longer on the base of his throat and the purse of his lips around the tip of the glass.

In your stupor you miss his devilish grin, he’s chasing the feeling of your gaze on his skin, drinking in the slip of your guard, and suddenly the incredible food you prepared for him is not nearly enough to sate him.

It’s his turn to stare, watching as your lips part in a soft pant as he takes a lingering swig from his glass, imagining how delicious this could pair with the taste of your pussy. Fuck, he’s so hopeless, you could talk him into anything, yet you sit and torture yourself undressing him with your eyes and practically projecting your dirty thoughts onto his chest.

When your eyes meet again your breath catches in your throat, some snarky comment you bury beneath the burning fire on your cheeks. “Joel…” it’s an invitation, a plea, and your heart stands still in its cage in the breath between your words and his mouth on yours.

His beard and moustache are rough against your lips, but the kiss is hungry, and not nearly as vulnerable as you feel. It's a clash of tongues and teeth, your bodies are drawn together like the world is stitching them together with desperate rough movements.

You can taste the rich sweet champagne on his tongue as it drags over yours, tilting your head back with a soft hand on your throat. Standing to his feet, he breaks the kiss with a reluctance you feel, but he’s ushering the plates off the table in a single trip, setting them on the counter to be dealt with later. The complaint dies in your throat, as you let your brain devour him in a primal sense. The broad expanse of his chest rising and falling in heavy needy breath, the veins in his neck as he tilts his head to return the same hungry stare, you don’t make it past his biceps before his hands are on your sides, directing you to stand but only for a mere second as your practically lifted onto the kitchen table.

His mouth is on yours again, hot and determined, your mind is made up, and he can feel it in each little whine he swallows. Confidence surges through him, bolstered by the hum of alcohol in his system, and he leans over you guiding you to your back, while he slots himself between your legs.

You part them quickly, wanting to feel him pressed against you more than you want to breathe, and rather than following you he kisses down the smooth skin of your calves and begins working on the button of your shorts, yanking them up and off with a dexterity that would surprise you had it been anyone else.

The thin cotton panties are not your first choice of sexy intimates, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as his gaze holds at the growing wet spot pooling in the fabric. His index fingers ghost over the seam of your pussy. “Are you sure?” He kisses the words across your skin, moving along the inside of your thighs as his stubble draws the nerves in your skin taught.

You blink your eyes a few times, almost not believing and basking in the warmth of his breath. Your mouth falls open in a pant as you throw your head back onto the table, in any other circumstance it would've hurt. “Yes…Joel…please.” Each word takes a lungful of air worth of effort.

There's a dark chuckle as if taunting you for being so pathetic, as he nibbles on the skin of your inner thigh, you feel goosebumps spread across all your skin, unaware if it's from shame or the heat of his mouth muttering sweet nothings into your skin.

“So pretty,” he coos letting two fingers trace over your slick panties, “Spread out on my table for me,” he presses harder but slows his movements to a beautifully slow taunt, “A fucking meal.”

The chair moves sharply back with his movement, as he pulls your underwear to the side and licks at your hole for his first taste. His mouth is feverish in appetite, licking and sucking and caressing each part of your sex, the assault is overwhelming at first, the movements so erratic you’re unable to focus on anything but trying to breathe. Cantering your hips against his mouth his rough palm stalls one of your thighs from closing, the hand is firm and warm commanding you to obey in just its presence. “More,” you beg, again the pleasure dulled as he slowed to listen.

His free hand goes to the waistband of your underwear running along its length and tickling the skin, before you feel a rough tug at the fabric and hear the tearing sound before you can even comprehend what’s happened. The fabric disappears and the soft table mat you are perched on protects you from the cool wood of the table. He mumbles more things into the flesh of your mound, and he kisses at the exposed skin of your hips, “Sweet little thing.”

You throw a hand over your eyes, losing yourself to the embraces and brushes of pleasure he showers you in. He settles back between your legs, pinning them to your chest with his arm and working two fingers slowly into your tight heat. The stretch is pleasant, and he lets his tongue lave over the top of your sex. “Joel.” You whimper feeling his knuckles curl inwards brushing against a bundle of nerves that has your vision lulling white. Each stroke feels like it's pulling your soul from your body, and an unfamiliar pressure builds as he coaxes the orgasm to the surface with his tongue swirling over your clit.

You explode, soaking the table and his hungry waiting mouth feeling the clear gush of liquid pool beneath you and coat your thighs. “Oh god, I’m sorry I-” you stammer, not having experienced this yourself before.

Joel’s attention snaps to your eyes, “Don’t.” It's a warning, his eyes dark and muddled with something animalistic you’ve only seen when he’s angry. “You’re going to do it again.” he sits straight, and you realize he’s still fully dressed as he stands on his feet, dwarfing you against the table, undoing the length of his belt.

Unsure if your breathing is coming fast or if he is moving slowly, undoing the buttons of his flannel, and exposing skin that you’ve seen countless times before, but as each button is freed and his shirt spills open, you struggle to keep your breath even. Thick tanned skin, soft to the touch but cords of practical muscle run through his pecks, and down his well-defined biceps hold your eyes still, as your heart clips away steadily. You mumble something about his muscles, fawning over him like you’ve done so many times before, but unafraid to get caught this time.

He peers down at you, maintaining eye contact through your spread thighs as you lay waiting gawking at him like you always have, the loose leather of his belt is tugging the jeans down his hips slightly exposing the soft flesh of his stomach and the feather-light trail of hair disappearing below his jeans. He longed to reduce you to a babbling drooling mess, he wanted to mark your skin his and fill you so full his traces would linger on your cunt for days. Days, he knew it wouldn’t be easy to stop, he felt like he was running downhill and his legs were jelly beneath him, hurtling towards some sort of self-destructive meltdown. But the sweet tang of you lingering in his mouth, splashed across his chest, on his dining room table.

You were perfect, even more so than he thought possible. He ached, the jeans strangling his thick cock, he longed to free himself and sink into you. “Come here.” he stepped closer, back between the welcome squeeze of your thighs, and he wondered if he would need a new table.

You sat up barely even with his chest and when you're close enough he brings you in for a deep and filthy kiss, giving you a chance to taste your slick from his tongue and to groan as your hand settles over the hard length of his cock in his pants. You allow a finger to trace over the outline surprised when your hand keeps finding more of him to play with, fighting the urge to squeak in delight as each kiss grows in fervor.

If Joel hadn't suggested otherwise, you would've happily been fucked to bliss on the table, but as one of his hands falls to cup the supple flesh of your ass you're lifted into his sturdy arms. Now even this isn't a first, but your cunt is pressed flat to the ripped muscles of his abdomen and you can't help but trail feather-like kisses and nips across the thin skin covering his Adam's apple, half tempted to suck a bruise into his skin as he whines lowly into hair.

He traverses the stairs with ease, fingers squeezing and playing with your ass as he does so. As you enter his room, he leans in for another searing desperate kiss, nipping and tugging on your bottom lip almost painfully slow.

The bed is plush, more so than you expect, the sheets feel cool and inviting as you settle into them, not daring to turn your attention away from Joel for a second. The moon is the only light in the room, but it's bright enough for you to drool over the large bulge he reveals as he shucks his jeans.

“Something you want darlin?” that all-knowing chuckle, call your attention to his face, always handsome but there's a depravity and a hunger in his eyes that is a little bit intimidating.

“I-” You struggle to decide what exactly it is you want to do, part of you wants to let him lay down and have you suck his cock dry, and the other part wants to see you bent in half stuffed full of his cum.

Your stumble only brings another dry chastising chuckle, “Don’t worry honey, I'll take care of you.” His dark boxers leave little to the imagination, the fabric pulled tight across him as the curve of his cock is pinned to the curve of his hip. He’s huge, bigger than you could’ve dreamed, and by the looks of it nice and thick, you would be happily limping around in the morning.

He plants his hands next to your legs, crawling up your body until he’s even with your mouth, his skin radiating heat and his mouth meets yours once more. The taste of you is still lingering in his mouth, spurring you on.

The clothed hardness of him presses against you, insistent and delightfully relieving the tortuous pressure building at your core. You run your hands against the muscles of his back, at first gently caressing but as his teeth skim your pulse you dig into the flesh with your nails. “Joel…” you whimper, knowing if he wanted to drag this any further you'd have no choice but to beg, there's something so addictive to his power and the way he looks at you. He knows what he's doing to you, he knows the way you shift your hips to grind against him is a silent plea, he wishes he could withhold longer, but each hitch in your breath coaxes more precome spilling into his boxers, he hasn't been this hard since he was a teenager.

He hushes you, soothing you with a hand running over your hair, and shoves his boxers down to free himself. He lets the weight of his cock slide over your sex, the thick head catching deliciously on your clit and allowing it to get coated in what's left of your cum. You both groan into another kiss, “Condom?” The question shocks you into reality briefly, but you quickly shake your head no, not bothering an attempt to form any words.

You swear you hear a whimper in his half-lidded chuckle, but you try to focus on the feeling of his body pressing against yours, the heat of him and the rich smell of his skin the taste of his mouth as he kisses you through a few more lazy strokes.

He runs a calloused hand over the soft skin of your throat before sliding it around and into the hair at the back of your neck, tilting your eyes to his As he lines up and slides in a single brutal thrust. Your body tenses at the stretch, but the pleasure is immense and Joel's mouth parts in a pant so beautifully you crack a wickedly seductive smile.

As he begins to canter his hips, his grip on your hair gets tighter, holding your eyes to his, his pelvis grinds delectably against your clit, as the ridges of his cock and the angle of his hips drag along your walls. You wonder if you'd been able to take it if it hadn't been Joel, you don't think you've ever been this fucked out in your life. He presses your legs slightly further apart nudging at your cervix, and grounding down.

The orgasm rips through you before you know it, the shake in your legs and your panted obscenities only encourage him further. “Fuck, good girl,” your hips love on their own grinding up fucking yourself through the climax as a second wave of white-hot pleasure soaks his abdomen and your thighs, “So good baby.”

Your head drops, body limp and wrecked he kisses along your cheeks and forehead, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

He moves quicker than you can register what's happening, his boxers are on the floor and suddenly you are straddled over his lap dropping down onto his cock as he buries his face in your tits. Tongue drags deliciously over your nipples as he lets you adjust to the new angle, you rest your head on top of his, kissing his sweat-damp hair and rocking your hips slowly. You didn't think he could feel any bigger, each slight rock nudges almost painfully against your cervix, words no longer forming in your brain and breath escaping in squeaks.

You let yourself get caught up in the moans and praise failing out of Joel nonsensically, the drag of his stubble on your skin overstimulating, you bear down on him and shiver as you hear the hitches in his breathing. “Where?” you almost miss it, his voice is hoarse, desperate, strained even.

“Cum inside me.” you can't suppress the smirk, “I want it.” It's your turn to pull his head back, looking deep into the rich dark brown eyes as they admire you, he chews on his lip. His shoulders hunch as you feel him twitch, his grip tightening on your hips as he uses the last bit of his strength to bounce you on his lap and fuck up into you as he cums deep and hard into your wrecked swollen pussy.

You suppress a shutter, you feel like you're made of gelatin and you slump against his body, going completely slack.

He waits a few moments to collect his wits and allows you both to catch your breath. “Should I start a shower?” You laugh, hoping to skirt over any sort of rebuff.

“Sure,” he massages the flesh of your ass, “I'll take care of the leftovers.” You're overwhelmed with a sense of relief, both letting out a massive sigh at the same time, and laughing once you make eye contact again. You feel his heartbeat against your chest and lean in for another kiss, the complicated stuff can come later, but the smile he gives you as he tilts his chin up slightly for the kiss, makes you feel like it's all going to be more than you could've dreamed of.

Part 2

[one-piece-aus]

Hii I hope your day is going well ! I was looking through your masterlist and saw your music hcs from a few years ago for the straw hats and I don't think you did the followup for supernova trio? I was wondering if i could request that myself or even music hcs for all supernovas if possible? Thank you :)

Ahoy! I sorta haven't been getting around to it like many of my other hcs and requests, but I am in the mood to do music related stuff! Also I've broaden my music tastes a lot since last time so I might need to update the Strawhats' later, but for now we're here for-

Music Genres/Artists the Supernovas Listen to (Headcanons)

Law

If your first thought is that he listens to the most edgiest emo music there is, you're absolutely right!/hj

Okay, but being real here, he's gonna be picky about the edgy music, I'd say it leans more to moody rather than depressed

Songs like that would be Something in the Way and Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana, Paint it Black by Rolling Stones, Natural, Bones and (maybe) Enemy by Imagine Dragons, Heathens and Stresssd Out by Twenty One Pilots, Losing My Religion by R.E.M. , Crying Lightning by Artic Monkeys, Duvet by Bòa

Crazy by Gnarls Barkley was 1000% played a repeat nurmous times

Can be found at 1 am - 3 am listening and sometimes singing Wake Me Up Inside/hj

Oblivion by Dirty Palm on the other hand is played here and there but he's not too much a fan of bass songs unless he is at the club drunk and dancing all that stress & trauma off (love that one rave Law fanart )

Viva La Vida by Coldplay is a classic favorite for him

You know, he probably listens to Maneater by Daryl Hall because Dr. Heart Stealer gives those vibes

Enjoys the SIAMÉS album Bounce Into The Music but would also find comfort in their album Home

His go to genres would be soft rock or alternative rock but isn't opposed when it comes to certain pop songs like Don't You Worry Child (catch him at the right time and he will get emotional over that song)

Enjoys the older stuff & independent artists (I remember reading Law is German so many he'd like German music?)

Artists he listens to: Nirvana, Coldplay, Three Doors Down, Franz Ferinard, Artic Monkeys, The Score, Imagine Dragons, and Fall Out Boy

Kid

Metal Music

Was that not obvious?

Loves the classics

Metallica, Guns & Roses, Thrasher, Black Sabbath, Rob Zombie, Three Days Grace, Smashing Pumpkins

He enjoys rock

The Offspring, Foo Fighters, Skid Row, Rolling Stones, Finger Eleven, Ozzy Osborne, AC/DC

He enjoys some new bands like Yungbund, Blacklite District, and Goku Luck

I know there's pirate metal but he gives more viking metal vibes (does listen to both)

You know he's jamming out to the second Death Note opening & Kaiju No. 8's opening

Traitor by Daughtry and Unstable by Chaotica

He might like phonk

Says rap is crap (who's gonna tell him Goku Luck is hiphop)

Allergic to Country/serious

Is the kind of Metalhead that says Nu Metal is not Metal

Psst, can I let you in on a little secret? He secretly listens to Lady Gaga, don't tell anyone or he'll kill you

Killer

Listens to most of the stuff Kid does but also has his own tastes

Nickel Back, Coldplay, Valley of Wolves, Unsecret, Skillet, One OK Rock, Meatloaf, Opal in Sky, Okamoto, The Cranberries, and Man With a Mission

Killer is more familiar with sea shanties than Kid

He enjoys listening to Uta (Ado), his favorite song of hers would be Gira Gira because he does relate to the lyrics (he really wanted to go to her concert but the crew probably got caught up doing business on another island and missed it)

Secretly would go to a 90s pop rave, waving glowsticks as artists like 2 Unlimited blast through the speakers/silly

Is the kind of Metalhead that says Nu Metal is Metal (not in front of Kid though)

Also allergic to country/serious

Hawkins

Dark Academia and Goth Ambience

He enjoys the somber pianos, it's peaceful and helps him study

Organ pianos are pleasing to him as well, if played right

He might be able to play piano but the violin (which is another instrument he enjoys listening to) is tricky to find the rhythm he prefers

Does love classic violin yet finds the epic violin music videos on YouTube to be appealing

And if he’s not listening to that, meditation/ambiance music is playing

Unironically listens to background music from video games such as Minecraft or Genshin Impact

Moonlit Night from the Death Parade OST is one of his favorites

If you can't tell, he enjoys soothing instrumentals

Is a big fan of Tchaikovsky

Enjoys music from 90s Disney (Cinderella especially)

Absolutely listens to Phantom of the Opera! Look at this man! You can't tell me he doesn't!

Probably enjoys French love songs

Apoo

DJ Apoo is in the house and you know he's all about the funky music!

80s, 90s, 00s, 10s, and even 20s, he loves all the rave & bass boost songs

Eurodancer, Daft Punk, 2 Unlimited, it's all a bop

Hip-hop & Rap are his jam (his taste for that would not be mine so you may list them here)

Apoo is pretty organized with his playlists, being a DJ and all, has most of them separated by genre

He thinks listening to music from Anime, Movies, and Video Games is stupid (*hands you your baseball bat*)

Drake

His ass is boring

He listens to whatever is playing on the radio

Not much of a music guy so he doesn't have any custom playlists

He might be fond of a few songs that come on the radio

Music to Drake is mainly just background noise when driving

While he doesn't mind someone playing their music, he prefers if he can understand the lyrics

Drake will easily get flustered if he hears spicy songs being played, especially if someone else is there, if he’s alone he’s instantly changes the station

Bonney

Popstars by KDA

I think her taste leans to rebellious as in "Fuck you, I do what I want"

So her taste can go from Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time by Panic At The Disco, to Seven Nation Army by White Stripes

Artists she listens to on the regular would be The Offspring, Panic At The Disco, BTS(?), P!nk, Fallout Boy, Cozmez, Fake Type, UNSECRET, and Eminem

Maybe a few Kelly Clarkson songs like Stronger and Since You've Been Gone

She does not like others putting on music, you can expect her to make a fuss if you try putting on something

Auxcord hog

Bege

The Godfather OST/hj

But for real he does like Italian instrumentals

Has a taste for soft love ballets

A few French and Spanish songs are appealing to him

He doesn't like pop, hip hop, rock, metal, or rap, and doesn't understand why the youth enjoy it so much

Except for 80s J-pop, he can see the appeal for songs such as Airport Lady by Toshiki Kadomatsu or Telephone Number by Junko Ohashi

And soft rock, specially the love songs like Just The Way You Are by Billy Joel or Can't Help Falling in Love With You by Elves (he just loves his wife, guys)

Urouge

So basing this off one of his hobbies Oda has confirmed

He loves seductive music, whether it’s playing in the background or he looking for something to listen to

Most played songs is Careless Whispers

Jazz and spicy pop are his top genres

Prime examples are: Mirrors by Natalia Kills, Sway by Michael Bublé, Pause by Pitbull, One More Night by Maroon 5, Stalker's Tango by Autoheart Lent

I could make playlists for them if y'all want but for now, do what you will with these headcanons, make your own playlists ✨️

[kai-anderson-whore]

His protégé (James Patrick march x fem reader smut) (kinktober fic 3)

Summary: you met James like his other “students” but after years off him taken you under his wing you couldn’t handle the pressures.

Warnings: smut, mentions of killing, becoming a serial killer, p in v sex, slight edging, knife kink, oral (reader receiving), tiny bit of spanking (like one spank), feeling like being watched, fear of abandonment(James not wanting reader to leave like the countess sort of did), James being possessive.

Word count: 3k

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•.

You met him over three years ago, the same way as all his "students". Coincidentally waltzing into the Cortez when the world felt like it could swallow you whole, well at least that's what you felt like you wanted the world to do. To say this was the worst week you ever had was the understatement of the century.

You sat by the bar toying with the glass of alcohol in front of you. 'Was drowning your sorrows even worth it?', 'is getting so wasted that you'd might get kicked out the the hotel even worth it?' You wondered something that became routine over the past few days residing at this hotel. The bar was practically empty considering it was late on in the night.

The bartender who you soon known as liz shooting you a sympathetic smile every now and then. You observed the lavish historical hotel, full of art deco some antiques from the 1920s. You had heard all the rumours and stories of this hotel's history to say that it intrigued you would be the best way to put it. You heard near enough everything about the hotel Cortez and the "ghosts" residents here thanks to billie dean Howard.

You felt preying eyes on you, furrowed brows you turned and saw nothing... weird you thought. Maybe it was your imagination after all your in an infamous "haunted" hotel. But that was impossible ghosts aren't true, right?. Decided on calling it a night you thanked liz and went to your room 64, famous for being the room of two serial killers John Lowe and the former office of the owner james Patrick march coincidentally.

You still like you were being watched but tried to shrug it off 'relax no one is watching me it's in my head' you thought. Oh how you were wrong, several of ghosts who resisted here had their eye on you. Some curious on why you would come here, others wanted you as their next victim but one specific ghost wanted you as their protege, their next successor.

You finally made it to your room, fumbling around in your Jean pocket for your room key, you jammed the key into the door unlocking the door not before looking around to see if someone was near you. You couldn't shake that feeling that somebody was watching you, no matter how much you tried to shake it off.

Locking your room door you let out a breath out didn't know you were holding in. Making your way over to your suitcase you picked out your night attire. You still felt that eerie feeling going into the bathroom to clean your makeup off.

You exited the bathroom now in your pyjamas, the little clock on the nightstand played it's little song like usual "that thing freaks me out" you said out loud. "Don't let that frighten you dear" a voice chimed in making you let out a yelp in fright. Seeing a man sat on the chair a glass of whiskey or bourbon in hand you didn't know.

"Who the fuck are you" you hissed feeling mixed emotions shock, anger, fear of this intruder. "My names James Patrick march I'm the owner of this hotel and I'm afraid I don't like your tone dear" he introduced in a velvety accent getting up from the chair. He was dressed sharp in a pinstripe suit, crisp white shirt with a neck scarf.

"The owner of this hotel died like almost a hundred years ago" you scoffed at the man, which didn't faze him. "Yes that is true but you see in this hotel the dead doesn't exactly die" he stated stepping closer to you as you took steps back. You could see him more clearly now dark hair, pale skin with a pencil moustache that decorated his upper lip and beautiful chocolatey brown eyes that held something sinister in them.

"What do you want from me?" You asked. Even though his eyes held something evil within them you felt drawn to him like he wouldn't hurt you. "I've been watching you my dear, and I couldn't help but see the rage you secure within you" he said. A confused look on your face 'was I that noticeably angry?' You thought. "Right so?" You shrugged not quite catching on to what the ghost was saying.

"I want to help you set that rage free"

...

You didn't really remember what happened after that night all you remember was James teaching you everything there is to know about being a killer. For those three years he had taken you under his wing, taught you his ways, showed you his little contraptions within the hotel. And you were nothing if not willing to go through with it all.

You listened to every word that rolled off his tongue about his little plan. There were only three rules he had when it came to his little hobby 1: don't have a method. 2: don't be sloppy about it. 3: don't get caught.

You had just came back from another kill entering James's room on the 7th floor. "Ah your back dear how was it? Tell me the details" James's voice chimed the old fashioned record player playing an old time song. "It was the same as any other time James quick and easy" you sighed finding an old rag to clean yourself up.

"Quick you say, how so?" He asked confused at your lack of creativity unlike it usually was. "Because James I don't want to get caught I have a funny feeling that I'm going to be caught soon so I'm done" you sighed placing your knife on the little table by the bed. James watched your every move deep in thought. He wondered if your proposal was a good move "your going to stop killing?" He asked removing his blazer placing it on a chair, rolling his sleeves up.

"Yes James I'm sorry, I'm grateful you showed me your ways and I really did enjoy my time with you but it's best if i stop now before the heat on my ass gets me burnt" you held your hands up in defence making your way to the door.

James didn't know if he was sad or angry at the fact you've given up on your little spree or was it because you were essentially leaving him. Just as you turned the handle ready to exit till that sophisticated accent stopped you. "Don't go... please" he begged.

James didn't want to admit it to himself but these three years he spent with you were the best years he had in this hotel after he died. He didn't spend his time chasing after his ex-wife the countess, he spent every moment near enough with you enjoying the sick bond you both formed. He grew very fond of you more than his other students you had potential the same characteristics as himself.

"What?" You didn't quite believe what you were hearing, it wasn't the words it was the tone complete desperation. Only time you heard that tone of voice was around the first time you met him when he was desperately trying to get the countess back.

"Please don't leave me I couldn't bare it" he pleaded once again with a meek voice. The door still ajar, your hand on the handle. "James it's for the best anyway we had fun but it's time to get out before it's too late but I need to leave before I get caught" you stated. "I DONT CARE ABOUT THE KILLING Y/N" James yelled taken you aback. He never raised his voice at you once even when he was frustrated with you for some reason he never ever raised his voice.

James walked closer to you his face now red with anger. He wasn't going to let you leave he let one woman slip away he doesn't intend to let it happen again. You were a little nervous at the sudden shift in the room.

"I will not let you leave this hotel not after everything" his voice was calm but his expression said otherwise. You didn't know what was going to happen "what do you mean not letting me leave this hotel?" You asked. "I've grown rather fond of you my dear, I look forward to our little meetings and I guess I can't let that go" his cold breath fanned against your neck sending shivers down your spine.

You almost crumbled as his cold hands rested on your biceps, your breathing quickening with the small touch. Looking into his dark eyes held anger and lust. "I've never felt this way for anyone since the countess but with you dearest, it doesn't compare to the feelings I have for you" his lips in a smirk, seeing you melt from just his words.

It all made sense to you now, you couldn't lie to yourself and say you didn't grow to have strong feelings for the ghost (because that was far from the truth). The truth was you were infatuated with James Patrick march, you spent every moment with him for the past three years it felt impossible not to. People would call you a stupid girl for it.

"James-" you were cut off by his ice cold lips on yours. The kiss was rough but you responded nonetheless. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip demanding entrance. Parting your lips moaning into his mouth, he showed dominance with just his mouth, giving into him, kicking the door shut with your foot.

James guided you to the bed effortlessly, the backs of your knees meeting the foot of the bed. His tongue explored your mouth before he pulled away. James then unbuttoned his dress shirt, your hands roamed his bare chest biting your lip. Your fingers hooking around his suspenders pulling James close to you crashing your lips back on his.

A delighted hum left him as he pushed your body down on the bed. Your legs parted automatically allowing James to slot himself between them. His lips moved to your neck slightly biting the flesh there making you feel dizzy. His hands roamed your sides feeling, caressing every curve that came in contact with his hand.

You sat up as James began to remove your slip dress leaving you in just your underwear. "Your beauty doesn't compare to anything in this world" James's voice was more deep, thick with lust making you grow wetter by the second. "Your mine now dear, I'll never let you go" James snarls, his fingers hooking into your underwear peeling the fabric off your body.

Now just kneeling on the foot of the bed James got a perfect view of your dripping core. "Your all mine" James hummed against your thigh trailing his rough lips upwards till he met where you needed him the most. He was like a possessive animal and you were loving every moment of it.

James licked a strip between your folds bringing you arousal to your clit. You gasped at the shot of pleasure of his mouth on your clit, sucking, swirling his tongue on the sensitive bundle of nerves. His hands held your thighs apart as wide as he could getting all access to you.

A moan escaped you as he continued his assault on your pussy. Your hand's gripped into the bedsheets underneath you for leverage. It was already too much but you never wanted it to stop. You already felt dangerously close to the edge. James darted his tongue in your entrance, his nose brushing against your clit adding to the pleasure.

"I'm so close" you warned feeling that knot tightening in the pit of your core. James hummed against you devouring you like his last meal. He never stopped his movements bringing his attention back to your clit more rougher than before coaxing you to let go over his tongue.

Your orgasm ripped through you, back arching, toes curling practically screaming his name. "That's it dear let everyone hear who's making you feel this euphoric" he chimed against your glistening heat. He licked up all your juices before pulling away from your heat.

"Oh god" you sighed regaining your breath. Moving your body to sit up by the pillows. James peeled his suspenders off his shoulders, removing his shirt in the process. His hair now disheveled, a beautiful sight to see. You removed your bra leaving yourself fully naked in front of him.

James glanced at the silver knife on the nightstand, he still felt rage for you ready to leave him. He picked the knife up making up gulp, you didn't know his intentions now a look of slight fear yet excitement in your eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you dearest" as if he read your mind with his free hand he undid his slacks and removed his underwear freeing his rock hard cock.

You were drooling at the sight, he was long and thick but not to thick were you'd think he'd slit you in two. His cock slight curved it was probably the most prettiest cock you'd ever seen.

James then got on top of your body slotting himself between your legs. Crashing his lips back on yours, the blade still in hand. Feeling the flat surface of the cold metal on your thigh, sending a shiver through you. He began dragging the metal down your outer thigh, his cock grinding on your inner side.

James pulled away from your lips taking the sharp edge of the knife to your cheek. "You will never leave me dear, I wouldn't allow it" his eyes dark, lustrous and sinister. It all was too addicting, "I'll never leave you James" you whimpered pathetically, the blade dragging from your cheek to under your chin, not to cut you but feel the harshness.

You grew more wetter than you were before. James lined himself up with your entrance before pushing himself into your sopping cunt without warning. You cried out as his thrusts were rough as merciless. Your hands gripped his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin coaxing his thrusts to become more harsher and expeditious.

James dragged the blade to the valley of your breasts. You moaned out feeling the cold metal under your breast. A grunt leaving James's lips "you feel like heaven" he grunted "you will never leave me, you belong to me from now on" he said in between his thrusts. Your walls clenched around him the desire burning like fire.

"Oh fuck" you cried out, chest heaving, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You could barely hear what he was saying. You could see that veins popping out of his neck the blade soon discarded and replaced with his hand on your breast fondling the lump of tissue.

A sigh of pleasure left your lips, feeling close to the edge once again. James didn’t let it go unnoticed, feeling you clenching around him. Much to your dismay James pulled out of you leaving you feeling empty and whimpering. You shot the ghost a confused look “don’t worry dear just turn around for me” James ordered.

Nodding your head you got on your hands and knees, feeling your wetness dripping down your legs in the process. “Your so wet, who for dear?” James cooed in his velvety voice. “You James all for you” your voice was scratchy from the high pitched moans. You felt that blade once again on your lower back.

“Yes dear all for me, no one else” James was possessive over what was his, you were no exception. From his student to now bent over for him as he drags the knife lower over your ass to your core. You moaned in pleasure you didn’t think this would be your type of thing but with James you’d do anything.

A sting on your ass making you jolt forward, James hand colliding with the skin there. You moaned at the sudden feeling, James’s hand soothing the red mark. Lining himself back up with your entrance effortlessly. Your greedy cunt taking him with one thrust.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets once again, your body jolted with each harsh thrust he delivered. All that could be heard in the room was a mixture of you and James’s pleasures, skin slapping off each other and the bed rocking beneath you.

You could have sworn you could feel him in your stomach, one hand on your hip the other toying with the knife along your lower back again. The thrill of what he was going to do next wasn’t like anything before, the anticipation eating you up.

James couldn’t get enough of you, you were like a drug he never wanted rehab for. The way your walls would clench and flutter around him was enough for him to come undone then and there. The way your loud moans filled the room, like music to his ears. You were just perfect to him, his perfect little protégé.

“Who do you belong you?” James grunted thrusting rapidly into your poor little pussy. You tried to get the words out but you couldn’t comprehend amongst all the overwhelming pleasure. Only a strangled moan leaving your lips instead.

Feeling the knife against your neck and an arm pulling you up flush against James’s chest, his cold breath fanning against your ear. “I asked you a question dear, very impolite not to answer” his thrusts harder hitting your cervix granted to make you see stars. You throw your head back to rest in James’s shoulder as you managed to answer.

“I belong to you james, I’m so close” you warned.

James discarded the knife once again, replaced it with his own hand chasing your orgasm. You reached out for his hair tugging on it, your other hand gripped onto his arm around your waist. “Let go for me, darling” he whispered, that was enough for you cumming for a second time. Your grip on his arm tightened releasing all your juices over his cock.

Triggering his own orgasm, James hips snapped upwards spilling his seed deep inside you. A low moan left James as you came with his name on your lips like your only prayer riding out your highs.

Once you both calmed down you leaned onto James skin glistening with sweat, breathing shallow. Gaining the energy to lift yourself off of James you threw yourself onto the pillows feeling knackered. James got off the bed to grab a rag to clean up.

After getting you both clean James threw his undergarments back on climbing into bed beside you. “I won’t leave you James” you said with a weak, tried voice. James wrapped his arm around you, bringing yourself closer to him resting your head on his chest. “I know darling” he hummed deep in thought.

[live-love-be-unique]

But It’s Home To Me

Summary: Eddie was meant to be the next metal god but things didn’t work out and he ended up a mechanic stuck in Hawkins, but with you by his side, that might not be such a bad thing.

This was inspired by a line from one of my favourite songs, Tomorrow by Shakey Graves, that just screamed Older Eddie to me:

Well, you love this heart and this six string, girl, oh

But they've been outta tune yeah for some time.

Parings: Older Eddie Munson x f reader

Warnings: none.

The dull ache that had started in his left shoulder as he drank his morning coffee had steadily traveled its way down into his lower back throughout the day and then, by the time he headed home it had reached his knees. I’m not old enough to have shitty knees, he thought, running a hand over his tired eyes, I’m only in my thirties.

As he drove home he remembers Wayne working the same long hours at the same garage, returning every night to the same trailer park the same ache in his bones and the bitterness returned as it always seemed to do lately, it was a sharp buzzing sound that filled his brain with a familiar doubt.

Eddie reached over and turned the radio up as Metallica filled the cabin of his old van, he could feel his grease covered fingers tapping out the familiar guitar chords. He still played of course as a way to keep connected to his dreams, and to make a little extra money on the side. Tutoring some of the kids in Hawkins was fun but not as fun as being on stage.

Corroded Coffin, his old band had traveled to Chicago to submit their demo tapes to a big music exec, who took their tapes and gave their music to another band without even giving them a chance. The band had broken up a few years later, he still kept in touch with the guys of course, getting together for regular jam sessions, they all had families of their own so those jam sessions were few and far between.

We could have been up there with the greats, the bitter thought invading his brain as the final notes of Enter Sandman die out. I should have put this shithole town in my rear view mirror years ago and never looked back.

He hadn’t though, he needed the money so Wayne had pulled some strings and gotten him some shifts at the garage and he never left. His shoulders felt heavy and the buzzing in his brain got louder as he pulled into the trailer park. Can’t even afford a proper house.

He’d met you on his first day, the world's prettiest receptionist he’d thought, he couldn’t even get the words out when you smiled at him at the end of his first day and asked how everything had gone.

He was smitten, so he went to Steve the next day for advice about how to ask you on a date. He tried to be smooth, he had a whole speech planned out, but when he saw you, he’d shyly stumbled out the words “would you want the movies…with me?” He cringes to this day at the memory. But you just smiled and accepted and that Friday night you were sharing popcorn as you watched Michael Myers disembowel teenagers, and later, when he dropped you off at your house he kissed you and asked you to be his.

You were his for two years, you were his own personal sunshine, he’d pick you up every morning and drive you home every night just to spend more time with you, you were never apart. Things were perfect, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty, like he was holding you back from something or someone better, someone like you deserved so much more than what he could offer, so he did what his father had done, he ran.

Fuck, Eddie thought, I was a fucking idiot, letting the best thing that ever happened to me slip through my fingers. He pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition, he slumped down and leaned his head against the steering wheel, hands still tightly gripping the wheel.

His friends had told him that he was an idiot, he’d agreed of course, told him to get you back and somehow after six long months you had cautiously let him into your life again under the condition that he wouldn’t break your heart again. That was four years ago.

He looked up and glanced towards the kitchen window of his trailer and there you were, cooking dinner and swaying to some music. A soft smile graced his worn out features as he watched you sway along to the music playing.

Dropping his bag by the door as he entered your small trailer, chuckling a little at the familiar strains of your current favourite song playing softly. Eddie made his way to the kitchen. He watched you for a while as you cut up vegetables for dinner, you were wearing that little sundress he loved so much, god, he thought, you’re so gorgeous, he moved forward, wrapping his arms around your waist, he smiled as you jumped in surprise. Eddie pulled you tighter against his chest as his head dropped down to rest in the crook of your neck.

“Missed you baby” Eddie mumbled against your skin. He ran his hands over your swollen belly, your son would be here in a few short months.

You ran your nails along his arms eliciting goose bumps, the shine from the small diamond on your left hand catching his eye. He’d felt bad about not being able to afford anything more, but you didn’t care about that, he remembered fondly that you had squealed with joy when he proposed. You never complained about not having more, you always said you were happy with your life, with him.

Eddie stayed like that while you cooked, needing to feel your comfort. Whatever shitty things happened at work always evaporated whenever you were around.

“Daddy!” A tiny voice came from behind the two of you as your daughter padded into the kitchen in her little Snow White princess dress. Eddie turned and scooped up the tiny little girl with the same unruly dark curls and dark eyes as his.

“Hi pumpkin” he smiled as he shifted the little girl in his arms, holding her on his hip as she wrapped her tiny, chubby arms around his neck.

“I made you a picture” your little girl, Evie, proudly informed him, showing him the finger painting she’d made clutched in her tiny hands.

“You did?” Eddie asked, taking the paper and examining the drawing “I love it pumpkin!” he said, putting it on the fridge.

“Steve called, wants to have us over for a barbecue this Saturday” you mention, placing dinner on the small table. “I was thinking of making potato salad”.

Eddie places his daughter in her high chair and takes a plate from you, “it would be good to see everyone again”

He smiles as he watches you feeding your daughter, the feelings of comfort and warmth of his little family slowly replacing the bitterness he felt earlier.

“What?” You smile up at him and his heart skips a beat, the same as it did the first day you met.

“Nothing” he smiles, maybe not being a rock star isn’t so bad. It’s not much, but it’s home to me.

[athforskz]

More Random Ult Kpop Group Questions: SKZ Version!

I did something like this a while ago when I first started this blog. So it’s time for another round! Questions below the cut I'm marking as MDNI. Like before, feel free to use this template of questions for your own ult group & tag me (and some friends if ya like). I love to see everyone’s responses 🤗

Dumbest thing you believed as a new fan?

Oof… there’s a few things I fell for as a baby stay, technically I still am a baby stay I think, BUT here’s my uhhh list: 

I thought Hyunjin had an identical twin brother.. 🫣 wait WAIIIT before you come at me, there was a rumor/joke going around at the time and obviously I didn’t know any better, so I believed it. There were even really good edits of Jinnie and his “twin” too. Then when I watched interviews where Hyunjin said he was an only child I was like ???? but eventually I figured it out.

I thought the sunshine twins were legitimately twins (they are) . Like biologically. Wtf is up with me believing twin things??

At first, I could NOT for the life of me tell the difference between Lee Know and Jeongin. No joke thought they were the same person. Which looking back on this one… how could I ever have trouble with them? They literally look nothing alike in facial structure and sound completely different in the way they talk & sing. Only thing they’re the same in is their menace behavior. 

2. Favorite duo/ship?

Usually not a shipper type of person but in regard to favorite friendship dynamic in skz, it’s gotta be SeungChan. Just watch this and there’s my reason why. Jilix is a close second because, again, sunshine twins. Followed by MinChan because watching Lee Know with his only hyung is so precious.

3. Favorite Racha (or other mini group within the whole group)? 

MeanRacha (Minho, Seungmin, & I.N) One of these 3 is literally always up to something. Causing chaos when you least expect it. The phrase “Lee Know is linoing” has become a favorite of mine because it always means he’s doing some menace antics again.

4. Favorite unreleased song?

There was a song that Hyunjin and Chan recorded years ago that Chan supposedly lost. We got a snippet of it and when I heard it I went feral because like Red Lights part 2???! PLEASE I NEED THIS SONG LIKE I NEED AIR! Chan like wtf do you mean you lost the track?! FIND IT. RECORD IT AGAIN. 

Also, all the solo performances they did at the opening concert in Seoul for the DominATE tour. Yeah, I need all those unreleased songs to be RELEASED right tf now. Give us another Replay album! And Chan… ykw let me shut up and be good for once, but I just wanna say THE GRASS AINT WORKING 

5. Favorite old song of theirs? Favorite song from their most recent project?

HEYDAY by 3racha. The whole song is a vibe but Jisung’s lazy rap when he first starts his part just does something to me 😩 

In regard to the whole group, I’d say the song 'YAYAYA' is one of my go-to jams from their older stuff. I love the tempo changes, scratches my brain in a good way.

Now as for the new album “ATE” this may be controversial to say but “I like it” is my favorite. It’s just so catchy!

6. Has your bias/bias line changed?

Since the last time I did this, yes and no? I mean as I’ve grown more as a stay I can confidently say OT8! But if I was forced to choose I say Hyunjin no surprise there and Minho.

7. What about your wreckers?

Chan continues to wreck me every. single. day. Like it’s truly insane, that man KNOWS what he’s doing. I’d also like to add that I.N has been wrecking me left and right the last few months which I blame his hyungs for that. 

NOW FOR THE UNHINGED QUESTIONS!

Please skip this portion if it makes you uncomfortable. This is the delulu brain talking. 

8. Which member are you attracted to the most physically? What about emotionally?

Physically I’m going to say OT8! Like have you seen those MEN?! I would be lucky to even get a crumb from them like bffr. Changbin, Hyunjin & Minho

Emotionally probably Changbin & Chan. From the glimpses we get of their true feelings & perspectives on things I relate to them the most. Honorable mention for this one will be Hyunjin because he’s such a romantic and I wanna say Seungmin too. I feel like before we didn’t get to see a lot of Seungmin ‘off camera’ per se, but with his [Song by] series we get to see more of his real personality and thoughts.

9. If you ever actually had the chance, who do you think you’d work out in a long-term relationship with (please remember the first rule of Kpop)? 

Probably, Changbin. Mans is a walking green flag. He’s a good listener, considerate of other’s feelings while still being honest. Always there for you. Funny af too. Overall, considering how I am as a person I think, Changbin would just be a good match for me. Like in my delulu brain me and Binnie would have that friends to lovers trope going for us. Even my dearest honey bun thinks so, she did write about it for me afterall💕 

10. A favorite kink of yours and member to fit that kink?

To keep it somewhat light in the kink department I’m going to go with hands. And a member to fit it the best, aka who I think has the most attractive hands will go to Jeongin. Innie has giant and such well structured hands. Rings sit so pretty on his fingers too which makes me feral. Like AHHDKSISVJKDW please grip my wrists and throat sir! *ahem* I mean, please let’s hold hands 🫶🏽 

Honorable hands mention will go to Minho because the veins on that man’s hands are just so ✨🥴

11. Favorite sluttiest choreography/move they’ve done?

Damn do I have a lot for this one *cracks knuckles*

The choreo for Silent Cry. Need I say more?

Anytime Hyunjin body rolls

Every single hip thrust/roll from Minho

The “POPPIN 🗣️” part in Maniac, especially when Binnie does it.

That one part in Charmer. Y’all know exactly what part I’m talking about.

Red lights. Need I say more, pt 2

The entire choreo for Taste. Bonus points to Minho when he did the special stage where he’s fucking hip thrusting from the side (I hope y’all know which one I’m mentioning here)

12. Most unhinged fic or edit you have enjoyed of them?

There’s a lot for this question too but I’ll keep it short. I’ll start with unhinged fics. I enjoy dark themes because let’s face it. Trauma. Please be warned these fics aren’t for the faint of heart, so if you read them, be warned. Some are lighter than others, but please read warnings!

Game Over feat. Seungmin & I.N by @sanakimohara

Games feat. I.N by @dandelions-143

Chemical Infatuation feat. Han by @hanjisick

ABANB series feat. OT8! by @doitforbangchan

The SKZ House series feat. Chan & Hyunjin by @writeonwhiskey

As for edits, there are even more that I enjoy. But I’ll only choose 1 for the sake of time and it’s only letting me attach one video.

Alright, that’s it! Thanks for reading if you stuck it out this far! I really didn't intend for it to be this long but it was so fun that I got carried away. Now for tags, I’ll go with my typical beautiful babes @doitforbangchan @jehhskz @torialefay + anyone else who wants to join!

[puuta-heinaa]

Joker Out, Paris (Café de la danse) 22.3.2024

I arrived at the venue around 14ish, and was third to last in the EE queue. However queueing is part of the party! I exchanged sooo many bracelets and met amazing people, some of which I just met that day, some I knew from Discord or tumblr or earlier gigs, couldn't have been happier. Got selfies with Bojan and Jan?? Hug from Bojan??? HELLO. That would never happen in Finland. I described his hug as jämäkkä and turvallinen, which roughly translates to sturdy and safe.

Some of the bracelets I made for the concert!

Met someone in the queue who had hawk's eyes and who encouraged me to go and ask for a selfie with Jan, and later on she spotted Bojan on the street 100 m before everyone else did. I had a chance to give Bojan 3 2 ananaslonkero -bracelet that I'd made, with a tiny drink charm. If the main joke in fandoms is that a hug from your blorbo would cure you? well it's true. Getting a hug from Bojan removed some stiffness between my shoulder blades that I didn't even know was there. It was literally easier to breathe after the encounter. I also kept vigorously shaking for 3-5 minutes afterwards, so much that some people asked if I'm ok. Just released years worth of trauma ig. Also LOTS of happy hand stims throughout the day, my autism was showing lol.

Jan was outdoors SMOKING!!! And Bojan had charmingly dirty hair! He was taller than I had thought.

ANYways the gig !! I ended up on Jance side, which was nice as I was on Kris' side in Helsinki. Whole stage was about as wide as K-18 section at Kultsa, and I think they suit better on smaller stages.

We got Vem da Gres and Gola in soundcheck! I was wearing Vem da gres -bracelet that I got in Helsinki a few weeks ago and thought about that person for a few seconds!

Gola was ok. Bojan got disney mickey ears, and he was wearing my 3 2 ananaslonkero bracelet. Bojan also got a maca plushie that he was NOT scared of, he even made it fly.

Kris left the stage as soon as the last notes of Gola were over, other boys stayed jamming in accelerating speed for couple of more minutes. I showed them my UM sign that only read "I want to sing UMAZAN" at that point. :')

20h02 was ok, didn't connect with their music at all though. JC Stewart seemed a bit sick, but sounded good nevertheless. Finished my sign.

They started with Katrina and Bele Sanje, and people were singing even guitar riffs along. Dopamin hit like dopamine followed by Ne bi smel, Nace was staring at me several times during those songs.

Liinu's superb edit of staring sc Nace and struggling Kris and Arcti's edit about Jan's forgotten library books made my day

People were already singing along to Sta bih ja, and Bojan was sooo happy (and sweaty. We were all very sweaty, the concert hall was ridiculously warm.). Kris disappeared for a moment in the beginning of Sta bih ja, and Bojan looked like a lost puppy (wait, where is kris?? about 5-10 seconds into sta bih ja). Bojan said Kris didn't like how Jan played the riff and that's why he left the stage :P. Jan flipped a bird to him.

Decibels raised by about 20 when they played Ona and Demoni. Turns out they might be the easiest to sing along for absolutely everyone, not just for people who speak Finnish. Bojan looked me directly into eyes during second verse of Demoni for several seconds, and I felt so seen (in a good way). EE was definitely worth its price.

In Helsinki I felt like the setlist was over before it even started, but in Paris it felt more like we were really dancing and playing until the stars fade. I think it had something to do with how much they interacted with each other and with the public during each song. In Helsinki they seemed like they had forgotten how to be on stage, and there was just TOO MUCH SPACE, whereas Paris had Nordic Tour energy.

They all moved a LOT on stage!! Kris was on jance side several times! Nace had a mating dance thingy going on with Kris at least twice, Jan once. Jan interacted with the public on Kris's side a few times. Bojan almost run into Kris at one point - no wonder he caressed Kris's arm to let him know he's there before grapping his hips?? and dancing behind him??? during Behind those eyes. It's cafe de la danse after all.

Def thinking "THIS is how we'll trend on tumblr tonight" right after the famous dance

Everybody's waiting and soooooo many people raised hands when Bojan asked in his spiel before the song if anyone here suffers from panic or anxiety attacks, and I think it made everyone feel less alone. He sang I'm the problem it's me -line to make things a bit lighter before proceeding to the song.

We got Omamljeno Telo and I felt SOOOO HAPPY (but also sad for Moonu) but also SOOOO HAPPY it was on the setlist, I think I screamed VITTU JES on top of my lungs (manifesting it for Ruisrock huh). Famous water spray on Jan during OT, and it shows I've grown old, because instead of "yeeeess I want Bojan's spit on me" I went "rat disease, why am I not wearing a mask".

Everyone sang along during CD, not in French though even if there was a fanproject French translation published a whole 28 hours before(....). Plastika hit like a hammer once again, but I think I was already waiting and stressing for UM, so I didn't mosh for example. Which, good idea, because my neck was soooo sore after Helsinki.

Bojan announced the karaoke song, and asked which versions we have today. He saw my sign, asked "Slovenian version?", to which I "said" (from 4th row on Jan+Nace side) Finnish version, and he heard it and corrected himself and said perfect. I was not afraid at all even if I knew I'm probs going to sing in front of about 500 people in 5ish minutes???? How??? I'm usually a ball of anxiety but here I was just proud and excited to sing my version of it.

I loved the Bretogne/French version (I've still no idea what were the words, but it rhymed super well and she sang well, but that was def NOT paris region French), cringed at some of the "translations" because they did not fit the lines and did not rhyme, sang along to Slovenian versions in Finnish, felt bad for one of them as the karaoke singer started at the wrong moment and Bojan spent most of their special moment trying to orchestrate the band.

When Bojan approached with "I think we still have a Slovenian version, OH NO, A FINNISH VERSION" I chortled, and felt the last bits of nervousness disappear. (Cue "some boat, titanic, oh no".) I had my ACTUALLY finger pointing moment, which, on point with my personality, telling him it's a hybrid version. I don't know what he meant with SUOMI SAA, but it was NOT full-on Suomi SAATANA, that much is certain. I quite like the idea/interpretation he was making a pun with SAA(tan)Are you ready? But who knows. Sad about missed chance to answer "ArE YoU???" now that I think about it, but at least I wasn't the only one who failed the moment :') . Speaking of cursewords though, a histronic youngster next to me did shout vittu though! I loved my spot but she was super annoying throughout the evening.

The Finnish version is in the beginning of this one, and the Arabic version right after Finnish version is AMAZING. The French version is on the first part, as well as Bojan going "uuu Finnish version? perfect".

Started in Slovene, which made him have a Ok?? face, but when I switched to my own Finnish version that rhymes with the Slovene version, he raised his brows and seemed so impressed that I just nodded to him, sending telepath(et)ic messages that yes, our languages match and rhyme, about time you collaborate with Jere. I think he remembered I asked for a hug in the afternoon, because he did not hug everyone during karaoke. Afternoon hug was better btw.

I love his little surprised smile right when I finish the first Finnish line on this one

I usually think quite a lot about how other people perceive me, but now I didn't give a single fuck, just enjoyed being the main character for 20 seconds, having this interaction with my blorbo. Forever grateful for the 4 different angles I received from friends I made in the queue, and 1 from a random guy who asked me after the concert if I'd like to receive a video he took of me singing. Even Vita was filming the whole thing with her big light + camera + phone ensemble. I often sing in my car, and even IMAGINING i'm singing karaoke makes my voice suddenly tiny and weak and compressed, so I'm overflowingly glad it went this well, you have no idea even if I've just bragged about it for 4 paragraphs.

I later realised I was the only one who didn't hold the mic themself, this is a clear example how I objectify the boys, seeing Bojan just as a mic stand.🫣😵‍💫

I got fluent Kiitos from Bojan, that guy needs to move to Finland he speaks Finnish so well. Also LMAO I forgot to sniff him in the afternoon, now I'm praying the snifff I took after karaoke wasn't too evident and doesn't show on Vita's video……….. Jere is wrong, Bojan does not smell like shit, but there were no parfume smell either? He just smells like nothing in a pleasant, pheromone rich way lol.

my translation: Sanje so tvojega okusa Aamuihin taas tuoksusi Neula ei haarukassa Sieluni on hukassa Etsimässä tietään luoksesi

I haven't figured how to translate the first line. I've been playing with "Makus' on tarrannut uniini", but it does not rhyme with the og well enough. Otherwise super proud of my version. Neula and haarukka are parts of compass, basically saying the compass is layed on the map the wrong way. 🧭

This is how small the place was??? I was in 3/4th row, and the hat guy in the right corner was right behind me during the concert so the club truly was tiny.

Apparently bubbles were not allowed on stage in Cafe de la danse? But some people had brought their own so we had bubbles anyway.

Jure exchanged his drumstick to a breadstick. I laughed because a) it was a clever pun and b) such a stereotypically French thing to bring a BAGUETTE wrapped in a napkin to a concert. Also no wonder boys are always sick, I don't even want to know how many people touched that bread before it was on stage.

Life is pain (in mouths)

We waited for the boys after the concert outside the venue in the rain, and they walked past quite quickly. Bojan stayed for 30 seconds to take a group selfie. <3

Honestly so happy I traveled there and met amazing people and surpassed myself on so many levels.

I feel like 2004 again, because that's when I last made a post this long on livejournal and also when I last was this hyped about a group.

I loved band's AMAZING OUTFITS in Café de la danse, everyone had some idrija lace on them, and I'm afraid my next special interest will be bobbin lace.

[hooked-on-elvis]

[BEHIND THE RECORD - Elvis onstage from 1969 to 1977] "I Can't Stop Loving You"

Written by country singer Don Gibson, who first recorded it in 1957, RCA Victor released "I Can't Stop Loving You" in 1958, and it became a country hit single. The song was covered by many artists over the years, most notable one being Ray Charles, in 1962, due to how he turned the tune into a No. 1 single on the Billboard chart.

Elvis Presley performed the song in many iconic concerts of his career - from 1969 into the 70s.

The first time Elvis Presley was recorded singing "I CAN'T STOP LOVING YOU" was during one of the American Sound Studio sessions, on February 1969. It wasn't an official recording tho. A jam version of the tune was recorded while EP was warming up with his musicians so they could cut the songs that would be released in his LPs for the times following — "From Elvis In Memphis" being the album this recording session was intending to create at first.

Not long after this recording session, "I Can't Stop Loving You" was worked up as a number to Elvis' concerts. Rearranged, the song gained a more dramatic tone than we can listen to from how it originally sounded in Elvis' voice at the recording taped at the American Sound Studio previously, so from this moment on Elvis would perform the tune in quite a few iconic concerts of the latter era of his career, the very start being during his comeback to live performances on July/August 1969, onstage at the International Hotel's showroom in Las Vegas, Nevada.

Soundboard audios with "I Can't Stop Loving You" recorded during his concerts, including in 1969, were released on some his live albums throughout the years, such as "FROM MEMPHIS TO VEGAS (IN PERSON)" [recorded in 1969], "ELVIS AS RECORDED AT MADISON SQUARE GARDEN" (recorded in 1972) and "ELVIS: RECORDED LIVE ON STAGE IN MEMPHIS" (recorded in 1974).

Live performances of Elvis singing the song were also officially taped, and they are very known to the fans for obvious reasons because they are part of some of the most notable moments of Elvis' history as a performer.

First official taping of EP performing "I Can't Stop Loving You" live took place during one of his engagement seasons at the International Hotel on August, 1970, as released on "Elvis: That's The Way It Is" documentary, then again on April 1972, filmed for "Elvis On Tour" documentary, and not long after that another performance of this tune was filmed during the "Aloha From Hawaii via Satellite" concert, on January 1973.

BUT, BEFORE WE CAN GO TO THOSE FOOTAGES, HAVE YOU LISTENED TO THE JAM VERSION RECORDED IN STUDIO IN 1969?

— NOTE FROM AUTHOR I love sharing Elvis' performances of the same song over the years, but what I would really love you to listen to now is the 1969 jam version of the song we're talking about, for it sounds so different from the live performances the fans are already very familiar with. I didn't knew about this recording until a few days ago and I loved it so much that this track is the reason why I needed to talk about this song. You will read about the moment EP was recording this song soon after.

Elvis Presley in the waiting room of the American Sound Studio, early 1969.

▼ FEBRUARY, 1969: "I CAN'T STOP LOVING YOU", RECORDED AT THE AMERICAN SOUND STUDIO, MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE.

Song starts at 0:35

Album: American Sound 1969 (2019)

It was an American Studio tradition: paying tribute to the chief with a rendition of “This Time,” a Chips Moman-penned hit for Troy Shondell in 1961. Elvis had heard about the rite, and he serenaded his producer at the start of the February session with the few lines that he knew, segueing into Don Gibson’s “It’s My Way,” a song he had asked Freddy to check out the year before. Plunking along on his acoustic guitar, laughing at his own mistakes but singing his heart out, he drew the band into another Don Gibson number, “I Can’t Stop Loving You,” which he would transform into a dramatic show-stopper six month later in Las Vegas. Excerpt from "Elvis Presley: A Life In Music" by Ernst Jorgensen and Peter Guralnick.

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

— NOTE FROM AUTHOR COOL, ISN'T IT? 😍 Have you heard the 1969 jam session version before? Don't know about you but I just can't stop loving it. So, now let's hear how that baby sound onstage.

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

[FOOTAGE]

LIVE PERFORMANCES OVER THE YEARS

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

REHEARSAL ▼

July, 1970.

LIVE ONSTAGE ▼

"Elvis: That's The Way It Is" (August 1970) "Elvis On Tour" (April 1972)

"Aloha From Hawaii via Satellite" (January 14, 1973)

RECORDED LIVE ▼

Live at Convention Center Arena, San Antonio, TX (April 18, 1972)

Live at Madison Square Garden (June 10, 1972)

High Sierra Theatre at the Sahara Tahoe Hotel, Nevada (May 13, 1973)

Live at Mid-South Coliseum, Memphis, TN - March 1974

Song starts at 0:38:

I can never get enough of how Elvis' history is so amazing. ♥

What are your thoughts about the jam version of "I Can't Stop Loving You" by EP? I'd love to hear from you.

By the way, do you like this track-to-track-history posts? I've written some so far but I have some others I'd like to share too. If you have any requests, any Elvis Presley songs you'd like to know more about the recording sessions or comparisons of the times a same tune was performed live by Elvis over the years, feel free to hit me with it. I sure will have great fun researching it for you.

[notroosterbradshaw]

slow dancing in a burning room - five.one

word count: 4.5k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, angst. starting to get a bit rougher here, kids.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I know this series is a bit different to what you’re used to from me, so I hope you keep reading. I truly appreciate all the effort you make to show your support x

four.

You’d taken some time off to get Bradley settled into the apartment after the incident. He was quick to try and convince you he didn’t need a babysitter, unless you had ulterior motives to spend days at home alone together, and he wriggled his eyebrows in that way that would make you giggle and roll your eyes, it was all very over-the-top and romcom.

But he could admit, he needed you to help him with little things that hurt more than they should and you freely admitted, much to his chagrin, that you wouldn’t be able to concentrate with him at the apartment by himself if something happened.

Not surprisingly, he was stir-crazy after a few days which didn’t surprise either of you. Bradley Bradshaw did not know how to relax. He wasn’t big on vacations (he didn’t have a big friend group and could find a million reasons to prefer time to himself than be wrangled into stuff with his work friends). He freely confessed he was easily comfortable in his own company, but it was pretty evident quickly it was different when he was banged up and more or less under house arrest.

He'd powered through the book you’d hoped he’d enjoy in about three hours (he had to assure you he really enjoyed it so it was easy to scream through) so you relied on Amazon to deliver almost daily, channel surfed relentlessly, he was no good at binging TV and napped off and on through the day. But it simply came down to idle hands. Fine in his company on his own terms, but with strict orders to rest his head and give his body and mind time to heal – no gym, no running (nothing that he could exert himself with... including sex), no booze, no fun, he had reasoned – Bradley Bradshaw was figuratively climbing the walls. 

Physically, aside from a few bumps and bruises, he appeared absolutely fine, but he couldn’t lie and pretend his head wasn’t still splitting and much to your annoyance, he was resisting the painkillers as frequently as he could. What he was trying to prove, you weren’t sure, but it seemed unnecessary to continue the discomfort for the sake of it and you let him know gently each time he refused the pills you held to him.

“My body, I’ll choose what goes into it,” he told you with a tight-lipped smile, ignoring his lunchtime pills and bopping you on the nose instead.

“Okay,” was all you could shrug kindly. What else could you say and do? Anyone who had met Bradley knew he was no kind of pushover. He could have a certain gruffness, an agitation to him. Quiet and reflective if you didn’t know him, but he’d talk you under the table once he was comfortable with you.

But push him; he will resist. He’d said years ago if he had to put his life into a song it would be Corduroy by Pearl Jam, you understood it implicitly these days.

I'll take the varmint's path Oh, and I must refuse your test A-push me and I will resist This behaviour's not unique

You wandered in to find him cooking a few nights later, the waft from the front door absolutely delicious. You loved it, Bradley was a wonderful cook just like he proved he would be and you loved coming home to find him whipping something up in the kitchen.

He was one of those freaks who could watch a 90-second YouTube clip and figure out a recipe easily, inspired.

It infuriated you that he might have been a better cook than you were too but you would never tell him.

But God, you could get used to this, you realised. He hadn’t heard you come in (you snuck in quietly without fanfare after you’d walked into him dozing a few times that you didn’t want to interrupt just in case he was getting some well-deserved zzz’s). You carefully wrapped your arms around him, feeling him jolt in surprise before chuckling quietly. You kissed between his shoulder blades over his tank, he gave a quiet moan in response and he reached back for you. “I’m home, sweetheart.”

“Welcome home, love,” he said, turning to face you. The cuts on his face were well on their way to healing, but the purple rims around his honey-drenched eyes from lack of sleep overnight were evident. You didn’t know why he wasn’t sleeping and weren’t comfortable asking him yet. He certainly wasn’t complaining of being tired but he didn’t mention each morning that he was staying up all hours.

His palms held your cheeks and kissed you gently, a series of loving pecks. “Missed you today,” you admitted. You quite enjoyed coming home to him and you hoped he agreed. This moving in with a boy wasn’t too bad in all honesty. Not one that cooked, was incredibly tidy and about the sexiest man you’d ever met... that happened to be as infatuated with you as you were with him.

“Me too,” he smiled, his lips kissing the arch of your brow.

“What are you making me for dinner tonight, Chef Bradshaw?” you peered under his arm as you saw your large pot with a rolling boil of water.

“Vodka pasta,” he said. “With a glass of wine?” he asked hopefully.

“Sorry baby, but you gotta be patient a few more days until the doc gives you the green light, okay?”

He groaned. “There are too many OK’s I’m waiting for…” he muttered, a little restless. Maybe a bit petulant.

“I know,” you snuggled into him, your fingers tracing the elastic waist around his basketball shorts.

“I only really want one OK though. Just a tender green light,” he whispered, urging his hips forward to rest against yours. “Miss you, just wanna fuck so bad,” he whined.

You offered him a careful smile but didn’t answer. What could you say? You knew he was downplaying the pain in his ribs still, and his headaches weren’t vanishing as quickly as he’d like regardless of the multitude of ways you’d been fantasising about how he could please you while you couldn’t be intimate for now.

You’d offered a blow job here and there, and he appreciated the offer, but he admitted it wouldn’t satisfy him the way being tangled up with you could. “Whatcha get up to today?”

He raised a wary eyebrow at your abrupt change of topic, kind of hating being left hanging when you’d normally have fallen into some sexy banter with him that would always lead to something even more risqué. He sighed silently and turned back to the stovetop while you gave him space and propped yourself on the bench while he tasted the simmering sauce. “Netflix. Went for a run – ”

“Bradley – ” you tried as you saw his brawny, tanned shoulders tense.

“Love, please don’t. I needed the run – clear my head a bit,” he explained, not looking at you.

Okay. “Did you have the Telehealth with the shrink?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said quietly, a gentle nonchalant shrug creasing his features.

“Go okay?”

He turned back and sighed, resting his big hands on his slender hips, exasperated. “I just don’t wanna do the shrink, okay?” he confessed. “Please don’t give me a hard time about this.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, but he stared back, daring you. He knew you had something to say but he had years of trauma to work through and you weren’t surprised that he really didn’t want to go back to the start and overanalyse every horrible thing that had happened in his life again. Who could blame him? “I don’t blame you,” you conceded. “I know it sucks to feel so on display like that. Raw. But you and I both know it’s for the best.”

He hummed, but there was nothing pleasant about it, it was almost a growl. “You’ve had years of therapy… tell me honestly,” he straightened and guided you to the corner of the bench, where he pressed between your thighs, his hands massaging your quads, keeping you in place, well and truly trapped by his presence.

“What?” you asked softly, his imposing frame hovering over you.

“Tell me if the shrink is going to bring my parents back, or if it’s going to make my job any easier,” he watched your face so sternly and a dark sneer rose as your jaw gaped gently. He hummed, already pleased at your reaction.

Well, that was blunt.

“Bradley – ” you tried.

“No, really. I need to know. You come home once a week quiet and disillusioned after your session. I am watching you work through your issues, but really… what has it truly fixed? How has it healed you, love?” he asked, probing deeper. “You still refuse to talk to your dad, the mere mention of him upsets you – ”

“Bradley, please…” It wasn’t about you this time.

“My dad died when I was four, I barely remember it or any trauma from that time. All I recognise is the sympathy I get every time someone mentions me being Goose Bradshaw's kid. I’m nearly fuckin’ 40.”

“Yes, Bradley – ”

“I haven’t finished,” he muttered. “I watched my mother die when I was 17 and moved on with my life. I do things in my job that make me proud and shatter me all at the same time, but I still function every day. I know the weapons I use cause more damage than good, no matter what the leaders of this country say. No matter what my superiors tell me about the honourable peacekeeping I’m supposedly doing. Why can’t I just process these things on my own?” his voice was so even, you were finding it hard to meet his eyes. “I think I have done a fuckin’ great job to now.”

“Because you love what you do – ” You tried to remind him of the stipulations made to get him back in the air. Ribs healed, mental health functioning well. In the greater scheme of things, it made total sense he’d have those hoops to jump through.

“Why does someone else get to decide if I’m mentally fit to get back in my jet? That person knows nothing about me. Nothing about my childhood, school, college… Mav. Not how in love with you I am, how someone else now gets to dictate if we’re intimate – which is also killing me,” he added for good measure. In himself, he knew he was perfectly capable to please you, but each advance was delicately refused and while he knew you were only doing what the doctor ordered – he hoped – it was starting to eat at him too that you were keeping your distance. He volunteered to repeatedly go down on you, but you told him you were okay and looking forward to moments you could share together, just like him. He accepted that, but just because he couldn’t be pleasured didn’t mean he wanted you to go without too. It was a woeful cycle.

“I know, sweetheart. I miss you too.”

“I could just have you right here… I feel fine, and you feel so fine to me,” he whispered against your jaw, nose nuzzling your pulse. “But you’re just like them at the moment. You see that I’m still me. I’m healthy. My body is healing… but you’re resisting too,” he said, retracting his body steadily and moving back to the stove, checking the sauce as you recoiled, immediately missing his touch.

He had far too much time to think about things, with or without the shrink’s help.

“Bradley, just give your body the time it needs,” you tried although the way his body rescinding like that made you feel bitterly cold. You missed his warmth quickly.

“It’s in right working order,” he snapped your name. “I’m fucking fine and I don’t need a bunch of lab-coated douchebags, or you, to tell me different.”

You held your hands up, slipping off the counter. “Okay, okay,” you stood down… on many fronts. You walked to him and bunched his tank at the chest in your palms and brought his lips to yours. “I’m sorry. I see that you’re doing really well. You’re the best judge here.”

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I need you to hear me, love,” he pleaded, bobbing to rest his forehead against yours. “No one else seems to.”

Hearing a knock at the door, you gave Rooster a quizzical look and he gave a small smile. “I invited someone to dinner.”

“Better not be my dad...” you muttered as he shook his head, a weak, apologetic call on his lips.

“Of course not,” he pulled himself from you and stood to height, heading for the door as you poured yourself a cool glass of water, even if a half dozen tequilas seemed more appropriate. You’d been home ten minutes and your nerves were fucking fried. You clutched the sink, trying to centre yourself and upon hearing your name, you looked up at Bradley as he stood side-by-side, mountaining over the man that made his life miserable all those years ago.

“Maverick, hi,” you managed to say, biting back the choking feeling in your throat as he gave a slight wave and presented you with a half dozen burnt orange roses. They were beautiful and Bradley grinned at the gesture.

“Been a while,” he said softly and if age wearied him, he was certainly showing it. “What’s it been? Fifteen years or so?”

You shrugged, a little shellshocked, gazing at Bradley who was very interested in his tanned bare feet suddenly. “Could be…”

“How’s your grandpa?”

“He’s good. Usual Viper,” you supposed as Mav nodded.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Maverick said as Bradley joined you, resting his palms on your waist as he held you from behind. “So, you weren’t kidding, kid. You two are very much together.”

“This is the love of my life, Mav,” he pressed a kiss into your hair as you pushed through with your smile, hoping it didn’t appear as confused as it was feeling and Maverick smiled, fondly. “Love, Mav is here for dinner if that’s okay with you?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you said, forcing the affirmative into your voice.

Where the fuck had this come from?

“I appreciate the invite,” Maverick said.

“It’s no problem,” Bradley spoke up

“I guess I’ll set the table…” you loosened Bradley’s grip and thought maybe, just maybe… you were going to need that wine to get through the night. “Mav, can I get you a drink?” you asked politely.

“I’ll just stick to water,” he replied.

Fuck.

“No problem,” you said, pulling away from Bradley to collect some glasses and busy yourself elsewhere.

“Bet you’re glad to have Bradley home?” Maverick asked as you collected the crockery. He held his hands out, hoping to help you. You let him, the room was far too small for a snarky comment not to be heard by all. Not to let Bradley feel your discomfort.

You gave a kind smile and contemplated your answer. “Of course. But I suppose not in these circumstances.”

He nodded faintly. “I understand. I want you to know I did everything I could up there to keep him safe – ”

“Mav,” Bradley cut in. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything.”

“I guess it could have been a lot worse,” you agreed, and that tone of seeped through. Fuck it, you said. They might not have been drinking, but you were going to make this discomfort a little easier on yourself at least and went to the fridge for the bottle of rose you’d been resisting, not wanting to drink around Bradley while he was recommended not to.

“Good drop,” Mav said, calmly. He could feel the air around you – the confusion, the hurt. He knew Bradley probably hadn’t told you everything – regardless of what was classified or not. Bradley had said there were no secrets between you, he had told Mav how in love with you he was on the way home, evacuated to safety. Maverick wouldn’t leave Bradley’s side, regardless of his orders. He was going to make sure Bradley made it back to dry land, safe and sound.

Feeling a hand on your hip, Bradley tenderly kissed your temple. “Grub’s up, love. Take a seat, I’ll stand.”

The apartment was just not conducive for three. No room for a dining table, you generally ate together on the couch or at the counter on the stools when an effort was made. “No,” you reassured him, softening as he smiled at you, his palms cupping your jaw before he lightly kissed you. “I’ll stand.”

Bradley came to bed lightly later that night. You’d left him and Mav to chat for a while, before excusing yourself at a reasonable time to shower and take your leave. In your PJs, you had moved on to your book, what you were reading you weren’t quite processing, your head dizzy with your distraction. Each time you heard a laugh you felt more confused than before.

Pete Mitchell was in your apartment. And he’d been willingly invited by Bradley Bradshaw. When had this narrative changed?

“Lovvve,” he drawled, crawling into bed with you. He crept his body over yours, not daring to sneak between the sheets. “Thank you for tonight,” he pressed sweet kisses into your forehead, temple and finally the tip of your nose. He wriggled his thighs between yours and took your book, tossing it towards the bedside table – its crash suggesting it well and truly missed it, bookmark be damned.

“Hmm,” you replied, but he knew it was a more put-off sound as he chuckled quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sure seems it,” you replied.

“No, really. I’m sorry,” he said with a little more sincerity, but the fond grin and dancing eyes told the story. “Kiss me,” he whispered, nudging his nose with yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me Mav was coming over tonight?” you blurted out before his lips touched yours and he paused, jerking back slightly. “I didn’t think you could stand him.”

You searched his face. You could see his brain working and trying to find an excuse that would appease you. And when he said to you, “We’re trying to work on our relationship,” you almost pushed him off you. He had you pinned for a reason but sadly for you, he was under the microscope.

“What happened for anything to change? A month ago, you were dreading him as your CO… now your buds again? My brain can’t even compute the venom you’ve spat at him and then he’s in my kitchenette for dinner and I have to pretend he hasn’t hurt you - ”

“Our kitchenette,” Bradley correctly you gently. “I live here too, remember?”

Sighing, you ran your thumb against the faint gash healing on his neck and his eyes fluttered closed, sweetly. “Yes…” you corrected yourself. “Our kitchenette. But I still need some warning about stuff like this, roomie.”

He nodded. “Okay, you’re right. I fucked up there.”

“What happened for everything to change between you and Mav?”

He sighed and rolled to your side, his thigh still curled over yours. “It isn’t that simple.”

“Then spell it out to me. Because tonight over dinner, you two were as thick as thieves. You hardly missed a beat.”

He gave a gentle smile but his eyes begged for mercy. “Do we have to do this right now?”

“Well, I could have asked when he appeared three hours ago, but I figured that may have embarrassed you both,” the sarcasm dripped from your tongue and you were trying so hard to remain calm.

“That’s fair,” he had to admit. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t give you any warning. That was wrong of me.”

“It’s just a fuckin’ text, Bradley,” you sniped quietly.

He nodded. “You’re right, I should have at least given you that much.”

“I felt like a complete idiot. You gave me no time to prepare.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you handled it beautifully,” Bradley laughed quietly at the grimace that shrouded your face and his face softened as he kissed your temple. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I’ll be more considerate of inviting guests.”

“It’s got nothing to do with guests,” you pursed your lips together, the fever burning under the surface of your skin simmering as you closed your eyes a moment and you felt Bradley move to his pillow. “It’s Mav. Singular. One guest.”

You looked at him as he crossed his legs; for a moment, you wondered if you’d gone too hard. He wasn’t angry, he was passive, and that might have made you more furious. “He helped raise me when Dad died. He tried to after mom died.”

“And he pulled your papers from the Academy. I know all this.”

“He told me he pulled my papers because I wasn’t ready to trust my instincts. I was too reliant on the rules and unprepared to break them if need be.”

Remaining quiet, you willed him to go on.

“Before I left, I know I was the worst to you. My moods were deplorable, I was a fucking asshole to you. And I wasn’t lying when I say Mav got to me every single day. The night Phoenix and Bob were caught in the bird strike…” he sighed. “I fuckin’ laid into him. I didn’t tell you. It just came out, I guess compounded with everything else that had happened that day. I wanted to take his goddamn head off, I hadn’t seen red like that in years. And I remember coming home and taking it out on you, my sweet girl,” he frowned sadly. “I should have been able to handle my business better and not take it out on the one person that I love most in this world. I don’t know why you stay by my side, because I know I’m hard to contend with…”

Sighing, you rolled over to face him, twirling a loose tendril that curled above his brow. “Think you’re the first grumpy flyboy I’ve ever dealt with?” you asked fondly as he flushed a little. “I just want you to be okay. And you’re only a few weeks away from returning to desk duty. But you know you need to go through the motions. Don’t take it out on me, they aren’t my rules.”

“I know,” he dropped his eyes. “I shouldn’t be lashing out, I’m just so frustrated.”

“Trust me, I know.” 

“The shrink thing is really bothering me,” he confided quietly.

“I know, sweetheart,” you pressed your thumb into his temple before scootching closer and wrapping your arms around his shoulder, cradling him tenderly in your arms. He breathed in your body wash, grounding himself. “You’ll get through this. I’ll be right there beside you.”

“Thank you,” he murmured quietly against your chest. His lips pressed against your tee until you could feel the sweet kisses against your jaw… then pulse. His large hands circled your waist, dragging you to him. You so badly wanted to resist, but he was so warm, smelled so good and felt so strong against you. “I love you.”

He nuzzled to your lips, those first slow steps of how to make you come undone. “Bradley…” you warned. He hummed in reply, but it was a dare. He was willing you to ask him to stop but resistance was futile as his long fingers walked under your nightshirt, grasping the meat of your hip and pushing his thigh between yours, opening you to him, his kiss relentless.

“Feel good?” he asked softly. He was desperate for you. He hadn’t felt so pent up since he was a stupid horny kid. He didn’t know how frustrated he could feel until the option for intimacy was snatched away from him. Your diligence to stay true to the doctor's orders was obscene to him. He didn’t realise how by the book you could be… from him, an irony.

And it had been so hard for you to resist him – your beautiful boy deserved to be loved but every time he touched you, you were positive you’d hurt him. And while he was healing, he still needed time, something he was unwilling to apprehend when he felt fine in himself.

Fine.

Fine.  

“You’re resisting,” he muttered, his tongue tracing your lips. There was a tension in his voice, it was subtle, but you could feel it to your bones. “Why are you holding back?”

You sighed and pulled back a little. His frown clouded his handsome face and he huffed, rolling back to his pillow and staring hard at the roof above him. “Come on, it’s only another few weeks, sweetheart.”

He rubbed his face. “Jesus Christ, don’t you think I’m the best judge of my body?”

“Of course – ”

“Since I’ve gotten home, you’ve looked at me like I’m I should be wrapped in cotton wool. You won’t touch me, you won’t kiss me, am I that hideous to you?”

You sat up, a little insulted. “Bradley, no of course not – ”

“Christ, when did you decide I was so repulsive to you? I’ve always had these scars, you know,” he hissed, his tone sharp. “I knew you hated them.”

“Bradley, my God, you’re spiralling. What are you talking about?” you reached for him, but he moved wide from your touch. This man beside you, Bradley... he was reaching. You were only trying to be considerate of his injuries - 

“Can’t we just fuck? Jesus Christ. If you don’t want to be with me, just fuckin’ say it already.”

“Hey, hey,” you said softly, cowering on yourself. “I just don’t want to hurt you. I'm sorry, Bradley,” you said meekly. “There is no other reason – ”

“I said I feel fine. It’s a few bruises. Why won’t you fuckin’ touch me? I come near you, and you find every excuse under the sun to get away from like me.”

“That’s not true – ”

“Like hell it isn’t.”

“I don’t mean to, I’m just so scared to…” you replied.

He pulled his shirt off, a large, long bruise still over his right pectoral. You’d guessed it was from the seatbelt shunting him back into his seat when the jet -

When the jet crashed. When he could have died. 

“Please baby, I need to feel you. Please don’t be scared of me,” he begged.

“I’m not scared of you, Bradley,” you told him, moving closer and kissing his bruised though soft skin. He moaned immediately and laced his fingers into your hair. It was a reaction he couldn’t stop, even as he seethed at the same time.

“Then don’t be scared for me, either,” he urged, though the softness in his voice returned from your familiar kiss. “I’m really fuckin’ good at what I do.” The double meaning in his tone told you. “I’ll always come home to you.”

And while you believed it because he was with you right now, that was all that mattered regardless of his to tell you the whole story of what happened that day to get him (and you) stuck in this predicament.

hiatus.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[elysianightsss]

SoftDark! Slasher!Techno

Prompt: You ask a stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend to get rid of your ex.

Warnings: violence, stalking, unhinged Techno, 6’6 Techno, blood, murder,

You hadn’t wanted to go out, that much was clear to your best friend, Mia, when she had pestered you non stop only to have you brush her off each time with a huff and a ‘no’. Though she was very persistant, it was Halloween, she had whined. This coming from the woman that went out every year for Halloween, you however didn’t, you’d been out a few times for it but the last few years it had just seemed so trivial.

“You know just because you keep nagging me about it doesn’t mean I’m gonna change my mind.” You groaned trying your hardest to keep your temper at neutral.

“Please! I promise I won’t ever ask you to go out with me again!” She pressed, eyes wide with hope, it made you deflate a little. You knew you were giving in.

A pregnant pause sounded throughout the room before you conceded, “fine.” She squealed loudly and began bouncing around the room going on about what costumes to wear, it made you laugh.

About an hour later when she’d finally finished and calmed down you’d pushed her out your cabin, she stood her ground only leaving when you promised to meet her for hot cocoa the next day to discuss costumes and makeup. Only when you agreed did she leave letting you breath a sigh of relief as you watched her walk down the footpath leading into the woods that surrounded your quaint little home.

Living far away from society wasn’t exactly your choice to begin with, and even with many many protests from Mia, the place had begun to grow on you. As did the routine, getting up early, chopping up firewood as best you could, foraging and exploring the woods around your home so much so you had mapped them out.

You were confident you knew these woods better than anyone else.

After Mia had disappeared from your sight you’d closed your door and locked it. A main lock, and several little ones as well as a big wooden plank that slotted on two hooks. Impossible for anyone to break in. You repeated the actions with the backdoor and the windows, only feeling at ease when all of the entrances were locked up tight.

You’d been in this self assigned isolation for so long this was normal now, the feelings of anxiety and fear only leaving when everything was secure. No one would be getting in, especially not your ex. The man you were hiding from. The reason for your isolation. A disgusting being.

He’d put you through so much and when you’d finally escaped he came after you again, never wanting to let you go. He’d marked you in his eyes and he wasn’t going to let what he thought was his just leave. So here you were four years later hiding.

Mia had assured you that the police were doing everything in their power to find him and that it was safe to return to society but you knew better. He was smart, they’d never catch him. You’d live like this for the rest of your life, alone.

It wasn’t all bad, you were able to do pretty much whatever you wanted. With the big inheritance that your now gone family had left you, you had no need for a job. Money wasn’t a worry for you which was good.

You were able to buy food, and enough things to furnish your house in exactly the way you had wanted. You had enough clothes, even though there weren’t a lot of them, you still had everything you needed.

Most days you read or baked just like today, to keep your mind off the darkening sky you focused on your cookies and cakes that were baking away nicely while you stirred the home made jam.

You mind was numb as you watched an old movie on the IPad Mia had gotten you a couple Christmas’s ago. Crawling into bed with the lamp still on, you fell asleep with somewhat ease of knowing your hand was wrapped around the handle of your gun under your pillow. Just in case.

-

“Oh Nachzehrer where are you?” He hummed with a sing-song tone, thick boots and heavy footsteps pounded on the floor with each step. All he heard was a snort in reply, one that made the corners of his lips twitch with a smile under his mask.

“Shut up!” He spat when the man he carried groaned, “You were so loud and now you insist on making more noise? How selfish can you be?!” He snarled before dropping the man on the floor grimacing as the poor guy let out a scream.

“Nachzehrer! Dinner.”

-

You’d wrapped up warm today and good thing too as the cold air blew into your face making you snuggle into your red scarf. Looking both ways you crossed the street from the edge of the woods to the start of town, Bludhaven.

Sighing as you wandered through the street passing all the shops, only stopping when you reached The Bludhaven Grill. Stepping inside you scanned the room until your eyes landed on Mia, her bright green eyes flitting over the menu. Her dark purple hair pulled up into a messy bun, she always died her hair for Halloween.

The thought made you remember all the different colours she died her hair, every colour from the rainbow and more. A crazy hair colour for October and then November first she’s back to brown hair like it never happened.

“Hey!” You jumped slightly when Mia shouted your way, you shrunk away from the attention of the other people in the restaurant and made your way over. A quick hug later and you were pulling off your black coat and scarf, hanging them on the back of your seat before pulling off your black leather gloves too.

“I already ordered the coco,” Mia smiled brightly, “want any food?” She asked looking over the menu again.

“No thanks i ate a little while ago.” You replied starting to feel a little jittery, the way you always felt when you left the safety of your home. She nodded and continued to read through the food options.

“Oh how’s your sister by the way? I keep forgetting to ask, any news from her?” Mia asks not looking away from the menu.

“I don’t know actually I haven’t heard from her in a while but I guess you don’t have a lot of time to write when you’re in the military.” You answered, you missed your sister dearly.

“Where was she stationed again?” Mia asked this time her eyes meeting yours.

“France? Or Germany…. You know I’m not too sure actually.“ Mia just nodded deciding to drop it seeing how you began to look sad talking about it.

You shook your head to get rid of the current thoughts, glancing around the restaurant for anything out of the ordinary but you couldn’t see anything and you tried to repeat that over and over again in your head to make you relax. Obviously it didn’t work, you practically jumped out of your skin when the waiter placed your steaming hot coco in front of you.

The man looked at you weird before walking away, “Are you okay?” Mia asked concern lacing her voice, the emotion present on her face too.

“Yeah,” you said almost trying to convince yourself more than her, “yeah I’m a….I’m fine.” She looked unconvinced and made that very apparent by how her face contorted as if to say ‘seriously?’. You were quick to try and change the subject, “What costume did you decide on?”

Thankfully the question was enough to get her off your back, “oh! I decided on slutty witch.” She giggled.

“How original.” You scoffed with a playfulness to it.

“And what are you gonna wear huh?” She crossed her arms in fake annoyance.

“I haven’t particularly thought about it, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been out.” The two of you continued your chit chat and playful banter, concluding that Mia would pick your outfit and you’d just have to wear it. Definitely risky considering Mia’s style was very different than yours but you couldn’t think of a good enough excuse to say no.

Your coco finished, keeping you warm and starting to make you sleepy Mia offered to drive you home to which you accepted. She quickly ran to the bathroom leaving you to sit and think. That was bad, you took deep calming breathes to settle your anxiety. It just got worse, you picked up your coat pulling it on as well as your scarf all in a hurry to make it outside for some fresh air you crashed into someone.

Someone. A wall. A freakin mountain.

You fought every nerve in your body not to gape at the man standing in front of you. His size was astonishing, must be at least 6’6 in height. At least. His face was stoic, never changing even as his eyes darted around your face with pure curiosity. His facial expression never changed.

His hair was longish, coming to a stop at his sharp jawline. His face looked at little rough, but it matched the rest of him. His huge muscles melded with the black t-shirt he wore, you could see how thick his legs were almost begging to burst out of the dark blue jeans he was wearing.

“Sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You apologised, trying your hardest not to stutter under his piercing gaze. All he did was nod, hands moving so they were sat in the front pockets of his jeans.

“Let’s go man.” Another guy who look so similar to him but his hair was longer and tied back in a low bun. He was a little bit taller, but wasn’t as muscular and big. He had a bit of pudge on him as well. Though if you didn’t know any better you’d call them, not twins, but definitely brothers. The man’s accent seemed foreign, French maybe?

Once again the giant nodded following his friend out of the grill, his eyes only leaving your figure when he had to walk out the door. You were frozen in place staring at where he last was.

“Who was that?” You almost screamed at the sound of her voice.

“Jeez Mia!” Placing your hand over your heart in fright, “we need to get you a bell.” You breathed listening to her laugh. Her question forgotten about, though as you walked out of the grill together and made it to her car you did wonder, who was that?

-

“So where are we going? To a bar? A party? Trick or treating?” You ask as Mia adds the last bit of mascara onto your eyelashes before pulling back admiring her work with a happy nod.

“We’re going to a festival in town. It’s only small but I’m pretty sure the whole town will be there.” She answers but notices the panic that covers your face, “hey, hey it’s okay. Relax. There’s music, a bar, there’s even a fair with apple bobbing and a ring toss. It’ll be fun.” She smiles softly her green eyes sparkling with care.

“That’s not like you. Usually you go to parties.” You said watching in the mirror as she shrugs then goes to tighten your extremely dark green corset, it was almost black. Delicate flower patters in a slightly lighter green graced the corset that sat snug over your creamed coloured blouse. The red skirt you had on reached the floor, covering your black tights and brown laced up riding boots. Little red riding hood, and not the slutty version. You were very pleased with Mia’s choice.

“I didn’t want your first time out in years to be some shitty party. We’ll actually have fun at this. Plus you can leave whenever you want, I’ll even come with you.” You quickly pull Mia into a tight hug one she accepts just a swiftly.

“Thank you.” You mutter so grateful to have Mia in your life. She squeezes you a little tighter, you stay like this for a while until you decide to stop being sappy and go have some fun for the first time in so long.

Mia drove the two of you into town and by the looks of the streets, the festival is already in full swing. The streetlights shining down on all the people dancing and smiling, everyone seemed to be having fun. Mia parked and the two of you made your way through the crowd of scary and slutty, even some funny costumes until you found yourself standing outside some barn.

It had been fully decked out in Halloween decorations and pretty lights. Surrounding the barn was the fair, to the left was a stage, some band rocking out on it with loads of people surrounding it singing along to some song you didn’t know. A slight breeze makes shiver, you pull the red velvet cloak tighter around you for warmth.

“Hey I’m gonna grab us some drinks.” Mia purrs staring the hot bartender down, it makes you laugh as you push her towards the bar inside the barn. There’s so many people inside and out you loose her in the sea of people but for once you don’t freak out. You just admire your surroundings, happy to be out of your cabin, it felt nice.

But all good things come to an end.

“Long time no see sweetie.” David grinned viciously leaving a sickening feeling to swirl around you. “Boy have I been waiting for this moment.” He reaches out for you and you fall back into the crowed to get away from him. Your feet move before your brain can register and you’re so glad as you begin running and screaming.

“Please help!” You screeched as loudly as you could trying to get people to hear you over the booming music. No one did, until you crashed into someone. Again. His face was covered by a mask of some kind, it looked like the skull of a pig, the tusks still intact. Soulless dark eyes glared at you through the eyes holes, but you recognised the giant. You’d never seen anyone as big as him before, there’s no way you’d forget him.

“You.” Your voice held uncertainty and surprise but Techno focused on the fear evident in your eyes, screaming at him. He recognised it so easily. Pulling off his mask to get a better look, although the fear you displayed didn’t bring him the dopamine rush as it usually did.

“Please!” You grab onto his boiler suit outfit so tight and with such desperation that the voices in his head go quiet. “Help me! Please!” You plead eyes burning with the threat of tears, but he nods and instantly you breath a sigh of relief, “my ex is here, he is dangerous and looking for me. Please, I…I,” you scrambled for way he could help, when the idea popped into your head, “pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Techno tilts his head slightly, face unchanged from the first time you’d met, from when you’d just bumped into him. With an uncertainty in his movements he hooks an arm around your waist pulling your body against his hulking form. The air twitches with power, that’s what you felt in the force he tugged you forward. Unbridled power just emanating from him. You felt so tiny staring up at him towering over you, eyes staring into your soul yet face still stoic.

“What the fuck!” The yell is one your familiar with in the worst ways, it makes your body tremble, makes you grip onto Techno’s Michael Myers costume tighter. Techno notices and find himself frowning, finds himself not liking it one. God. Damn. Bit.

The voices in his head begin ranting and raving the second he takes his eyes off you and they land on what he could only describe as a pathetic excuse for a man. But that way you shake against him, he could see how such a man could make a little thing like you cower in fear.

“Get off her!” Your ex, David, growled his shoulders squared ready for a fight even as he glared up at the absolute beast of a man that currently held you in his arms.

“Okay.” Techno agreed. You panicked, your heartbeat rising, breathing picking up. That’s what you get for asking a stranger for help. A panic attack back on the rise you released your grip on Techno’s outfit and began to back away from him. He watched you still a frown on his face, the first bit of emotion you’d seen him display.

That was until he turned to his left, facing your ex who had his eyes on you with a hunger that made you stomach churn in disgust. Techno’s eyes light up as he rolled his shoulders, his arm moving back before he swung it and punched your ex right in the face.

He fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Techno glanced at you, his rubies looking you up and down with a flicker of concern? Maybe? Before he leaned down grabbing David’s wrist and dragged him away.

You stood there dumbfounded, what had just happened? And where was he taking him? You didn’t understand, but you were going to. Searching the room you spotted Mia seeing her making out with the hot bartender. She was okay, that gave you the green light to rush out of the barn. The whole world felt like it was swirling and spinning as you looked for a giant dragging a man with him.

There! Your eyes widened as you watched him disappear into the woods, and then the stupid kicked in and you sprinted after them. The further you got into the woods the quicker you started to realise just how idiotic this really was.

You didn’t know this man, he was a stranger and yes he may have saved you but right now he was dragging your ex along the dirt floor like he was nothing. You didn’t like where this was going and you sure as hell didn’t want to see how it ended. Turning around you realised that you were in the middle of nowhere, no festival in sight.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath turning back to see that the giant and your ex had disappeared too. Now you were alone, lost in the middle of the woods.

“Okay okay you can do this, you know the woods it’s just darker.” You coaxed yourself, you needed to stay calm and collected. Easy right?

“Help!” Wrong. The ear shattering scream of what you thought was your ex sprouted a new level of fear inside of you.

You followed the desperate cries until you saw something out of a horror movie the absolute beast of a man was holding your ex down while he cut him open. It reminded you of when you had to dissect a frog in science, the very same technique.

Your ex cried and screamed for him to stop only for Techno to tut and reply with shut up. The scene before you had your stomach churning, you felt absolutely sickened to your core. Watching the man who had brought you so much pain writhe on the dirty ground, it wasn’t what you thought you’d feel.

Maybe you’d feel justice? Happy? Relieved? No, you felt sick as your eyes followed the way his guts spewed out from his stomach. Holding your hand over your mouth as to not make a sound, you sought strength from the tree a little ahead of you. Stepping forward, all you wanted was to grip onto the tree, all you wanted was some support, instead, a snapping noise emanated around you.

You’d stepped on a twig. You knew it and looking up into the dark dangerous eyes of the giant, he knew it too.

You wondered in that moment where the gentle giant who was kind enough to protect you had disappeared to. He looked hungry and murderous, like killing once had ignited the fire in him. “Run kleines Lamm, this lions hungry.”

“Shit!” You screeched as he advanced towards you, you ran as fast as you could. You left your brain behind and ran, no thoughts entered your head. All you knew was that you had to keep running and ignore the thundering footsteps behind you, it felt like they were shaking the whole forest.

You looked back for a split second and saw him slowing down, it pushed you to move faster knowing the advantage this gave you. You made your body go and when you thought you couldn’t move anymore you kept going. This was quite literally life or death and despite the fact that you were sure you’d be the first to die in any horror movie, you were not dying today.

Glancing back once more was a mistake given that you tripped and landed on your ankle funny, a cut on your knee and both of your hands were grazed. Hearing him closing in on you, you manage to pull yourself behind a tree. The massive trunk kept you out of site while you looked over your leg with a small hiss escaping your mouth.

You quickly covered your mouth with both hands, trying to ignore the blood that was dripping from the cut in your knee, you peeked out from behind the tree to see him stood quite far away, his eyes searching the forest through that pig skull mask of his.

You were, officially, screwed.

“You shouldn’t have followed me kleines Lamm. I don’t want to hurt you.” The words felt fuzzy and wrong coming out of his mouth, “You really should have stayed at the festival.” Shivers racked through your body at his words and the murderous tone he was so desperately trying to soften.

“Oh Nachzehrer where are you?” Techno hummed with a sing-song tone. You heard a snort in reply, and if you thought that the giant’s footsteps were loud, these were booming. Peeking back out you spotted what looked to be a massive warthog, his body three times the size of a regular one. He was vicious, with blood all round his mouth and tusks.

You were so entranced with the warthog, so terrified by its presence that you missed it. You should of been smarter, you should of fought harder. But in the end the bad guy always wins.

“Hello kleines Lamm.” Was the last thing you heard before it all went black.

-

Your head was pounding, it felt like your brain was trying to claw its was out of your skull. With blurry vision you looked at your surroundings, instantly noticing the gigantic warthog laid in the corner of the room chewing on a bone. You couldn’t react, you were absolutely gone…

Delta India delta, Yankee Oscar uniform, golf echo tango, tango hotel echo, hotel Oscar November echo Yankee Charlie Oscar Mike echo, Romeo echo Charlie India papa echo?

You were so drowsy, so out of it, so delirious it the words you thought you heard made no sense…

“India, hotel alpha victor echo, hotel echo Romeo”

[jokeroutsubs]

Interview with Joker Out's member Nace Jordan, from Slovenian magazine Kranjčanka!

"Enriched by a special experience"

We caught up with Nace Jordan, bassist of Joker Out, a week or so after the Eurovision show in Liverpool, a few days after the show in Zagreb, and just before they left for the show in Dublin, where they sold out their first show in twenty minutes… On stage, they kept company to the Irish performers.

The fact that this guy, who is otherwise from Mlaka (T.N: small village near Kranj), is fully booked, can be confirmed by telling you that he moved into a new flat in March of this year - he has been living in Ljubljana for some time now - but he has spent less than 14 days there until it was time for the Eurovision Song Contest. He still returns to Kranj at least twice a week to visit his mother and to stay true to himself: he decided to get a personal trainer a while ago, so now he also goes to Kranj to train there.

Nace Jordan came into contact with music in primary school. He first played the guitar, which he soon replaced with the bass guitar. "Around the fifth grade of primary school (T.N: 10-11 years old), I became interested in instruments and a classmate and I decided to start a music group. He bought a drum set and I bought an electric guitar. Then we quickly saw that there were no bass players. So I sold the guitar and bought a bass guitar," he explains. He has no formal musical training, but says he has been lucky that wherever he has gone in life, there has always been a good mentor who has been able to guide him.

I: How long did this primary school group last?

N: In those days it was a well-known Kranj band called Success. We did a lot of gigs. It's interesting that all the band members from that time are now living off music. They are, for example, the guitarist Nejc Ušlakar, Tajda Jovanović - also from Mlaka - who is a top classical singer and used to sing at the famous Scala in Milan; if I am not mistaken, she is now teaching classical singing in Dubai. We just created an environment for ourselves and stayed in music. The drummer and keyboard player, Aljaž Bernik and Miha Petrovič, have, for example, a very successful wedding band, called Pop Deluxe.

I: What came after primary school? (* (T.N: In Slovenia, primary school lasts for 9 years, from ages 6-15)

N: I enrolled at the then Iskra University, majoring in mechatronics, but just before graduation I started working - actually playing on a cruiser. By some chance I found myself at a jam session open mind in Kranj, where the Kranj drummer Rok Rozman was looking for someone to go on the boat with him. He was impressed with me, I auditioned and of course they weren't very happy at home when I confronted them with the fact that I was going to take my final exams the following year. I was just 18 years old.

I: Was that a cruise ship?

N: Yes. We were travelling in the Baltic Ocean. I remember that we started in Germany, in a port north of Hamburg, then continued on to Gdansk, St Petersburg and to the Scandinavian countries.

l: That was probably the only time you've been on a cruise ship of that kind, a tourist cruise ship?

I've had a lot of people ask me if I would ever go on holiday on a cruise ship. Probably not. But I would go and have another look at the one I played on.

I: When you came back to Slovenia, did you graduate from high school? N: I didn't and I still regret it a little bit. When I came back from the ship, I started working with the singer Katarina Malo. During that time, I was also taken under the wing of two musicians from Primorska (T.N.: a region in the South-Western part of Slovenia) - that's what I mentioned: I found myself somewhere and then a mentor came along. I learned a lot from them. They were David Morgan and Denis Beganovic - Kiki. The first one is a top jazz drummer from the coastal area, he organises a lot of stuff, and he also plays with Avtomobili (T.N. slovenian band), I think he even played with Plestenjak (T.N. Jan Plestenjak, a famous Slovenian pop singer) at one point. Whereas Kiki is a multi-instrumentalist. He's an extraordinary talent. He has worked with Kanzyani and other famous DJs and musicians from abroad. He has made a lot of music, and he also led the Big Band from the coastal region. That was a really nice period for me. I even moved to the coastal region for a short period.

I: Why music, why not football?

N: Certainly not football (laughs). It's the sport I'm least talented in, or rather, all ball sports fall into that context - be it table tennis or football; and, even though my surname is Jordan, I'm the worst basketball player in the world (laughs). Just two days ago, I met my first grade teacher, and of course the topic of music and Eurovision came up. She told me that she knew even back then that school was not for me, but that I would definitely do something creative in my life. It brought back memories of how bored I was at school and how I would rather draw under my desk than listen, even though I was not a bad student.

I: You haven't been a member of Joker Out for long.

N: Since last year. Martin Jurkovič, the original bass player, felt at some point that music was not his main path. He is also an extremely talented programmer and is studying in that direction. He wants to study abroad and decided to finish that chapter. I knew the lead singer of the band, Bojan, from some mutual friend groups before, and the guys were looking for someone who was around their age, professional, good at what they do, and they thought of me. And Martin was in favour of me coming into the group instead of him.

I: And did you imagine that the band would continue the way it did?

N: From the beginning I went into the band with a bit of hesitation. I even suggested a test period. I had learnt that there has to be chemistry between the members. And if we didn't get along with each other the way we do, we wouldn't have performed on the Eurovision stage. We would have had a fight otherwise.

I: Do you spend a lot of time together?

N: First there were the Eurovision showcase concerts, and now there is the summer concert tour in Slovenia. We also have quite a few problems, because we get a lot of calls from abroad. It's logistically difficult, so we're looking for a solution to link some of the concerts to the tour. After the Eurovision Song Contest, we really started to get noticed abroad.

I: Was this your first Eurovision Song Contest?

N: Yes. But I have been to EMA (slovenian national selection for ESC) several times before.

I: Was it as you imagined it would be?

N: Even better. I can say that everyone who has been through this kind of experience has told us that it will be really tough: there will be a lot of work, but that we should also expect crazy parties. But in the end, it was much less exhausting than we expected. In fact, we had such a busy schedule beforehand that Eurovision itself was almost easier for us afterwards. We were practically in the Arena for five days, the rest was socialising, interviews and other commitments. In principle, we like that.

I: You seemed to be well received.

N: We were lucky enough to have connected with practically all the performers. We were always in a good mood, which was seen and felt both in the performances and in the interviews, during the statements. We came home really enriched by a special experience. And it was really nice to see how the people at home supported us. After the first semi-final, we got some footage of how they were watching us and we were just amazed how behind Bežigrad (Ljubljana district), let's say, they watched the first semi-final show in an organised way. The energy was crazy, like at a match.

I: What about Liverpool? Was there any time to "play tourists"?

N: During Eurovision, not really. We were in Liverpool before, because we were shooting a video. I think it was after Barcelona, and we did a lot of walking around the city then. For those who like the Beatles, Liverpool is great.

I : How did it come about that you went to Eurovision in the first place?

N : When I came into the group, the guys and I immediately started talking about whether we would go to this year's EMAs. We decided to go. We knew we would definitely be one of the favourites because we have a really big and extremely loyal audience. Well, then the EMA didn't happen. The jury decided to make their own choice, from the five entries who had the most songs of the week during that year. And I think only two of us ended up applying. There was no EMA, and they sent us to Liverpool.

I: You mostly use Slovenian in your songs.

N: Of course. We have a few songs in English, but we mostly sing in Slovenian. We were talking about how we would work going forwards, and we agreed not to bother with the language. We are proud of our Slovenian language. It's really something beautiful when you see an adult Peruvian man or a five-year-old Spanish girl singing our song in Slovenian. In that moment you understand the athletes and you are proud to be Slovenian.

I: How is it on the street? Do people recognise you? You often hear: is that the bass player of Joker Out?

N: Yes, quite. Most of the time it's people who say something nice to you, or want a selfie. Of course, there are also some "admirers" who stick gum all over my car or leave messages. There's a good side and a bad side to being a public personality. Sometimes it requires of you to spend three hours taking photos - but if you enjoy doing something, that's not a problem either.

I: Do you think that it is actually the fact that you get along well in a group that "pulls" in the audience?

N: The energy between us is definitely something that is contagious. I don't know if it's what makes the audience really like us, but it's something that puts even someone who is in a bad mood in a good mood.

Translation by @kurooscoffee (jokeroutsubs). DO NOT REPOST!

[a-magical-evening]

Do you know if there's any photos or videos or anything with Matt and Trey hugging each other?

I wish I could say I know of recorded hugs, but unfortunately Matt and Trey don't appear to be very huggy with each other, at least in public. It's more likely they'll hold hands (usually for photoshoots or during curtain calls), or put an arm around each other.

They do like putting their heads on each other's shoulders 😍

(I'm very 'look how they massacred my boy' about the awful photoshopping job they did on Trey in that last one, but I can appreciate the pose at least.)

There were a selection of old slides posted to eBay a few years ago that had some extremely tiny and pixelated pics of drunk hugs from the same night these were taken.

Here's a post by @cock-tail-party with the best of the bunch. Somewhere out there, a very rich person is sitting on some of the greatest M&T pics ever.

There is of course the Coop and Remer hug from BASEktball's Canned Ham, but it's in character, so it doesn't count imo.

Another that doesn't count is the air hug from the concert. But it's always nice to see it 😉

The lack of hugging became a meme in 2022 Matt & Trey fandom. This post by @behind-the-blow pretty much sums it up, lol. Most of the silliness was inspired by this post where it was pointed out that Trey looked like he wanted to hug Matt several times while celebrating their Empire Award win, but he doesn't get one. (Matt, please just hug the guy at this point! He's sung a whole song about wanting hugs, come on.)

We got desperate in our hunt for hugs and maybe counted this one from For Goodness Sake II, where Trey dives across a table and into Matt's lap, just before the table collapses.

If you're interested, there's lots of fanart out there that fills the hug-shaped void. Fair warning that a lot of it is shippy, so ignore the bullet points if RPF isn't your jam.

There's an absolutely gorgeous piece of art by UnfortunateJerry on AO3 of Matt and Trey hugging in the art chapter of this fic collection (note: NSFW art in the same chapter.) It's life changing.

There's an amazing selection of M/T art out there made by @konstance - this hugging one is a favourite of mine.

This adorable piece by @cock-tail-party

I also did this hug art collab with @cock-tail-party in 2022, inspired by the Where's Trey's Hug? meme 😊

This answer became much longer than I anticipated, but I hope it gave you something to chew on at least. If I've missed anything obvious, please someone let me know in the replies.

[killersfool]

You Might Get What You Want | ROBERT KEATING

PAIRING: robert keating x original f!character

GENRE: childhood frenemies to lovers

SUMMARY: lucia (luz), nieve ella’s keyboardist, has an estranged history with inhaler—especially with the band’s bassist, bobby. their fiery hatred for eachother rapidly blossoms into something sweet, especially when she learns that he wrote a song about her.

WORDS: 5.8k

WARNINGS: kissing, swearing, alcohol use, mild sexual content

Being Nieve Ella's keyboardist has completely altered the course of my life. Only eight months ago, I was doing my second year of uni, trying to get through a Music course and completely regretting all of my life choices. My favourite part of the day would be getting home and sitting at my piano, writing songs and posting them on Tiktok. Views racked up, followers kept coming in and I think I realised how well everything was going when Laufey commented on my cover of 'Like The Movies'. Then about two weeks later, an email shot through my phone—literally like a bullet to skin. I dropped the rectangular device to the ground mid-lecture, hand on my mouth, teeth in my lip. 

Nieve Ella had asked me to join her on tour. With Inhaler.

At first I was laughing, then I was bawling with endless tears of happiness and now I'm on my final show still feeling woozy and adrenaline is banging through my brain. The whole band have become my best friends. And, quite shockingly, me and Inhaler have a weird shared history. I've known them since I was really young. I used to watch their first gigs at tiny venues where they'd run around in the crowd and hardly anyone knew the lyrics. I went to the same school as Bobby, Eli and Ryan who were a bunch of madmen. They'd let me hang out with them backstage or at practice and jam before they finally found a 'proper' keyboardist (Louis). To be honest, I'd always been slightly salty that I never got into the band. But I guess we were never close enough and I could be quite horrible to Bobby — but honestly, he deserved it. He was a whiny, teenage nightmare. Still is. Except he's not a teenager anymore.

Thankfully, Nieve Ella and the band take a train separate to Inhaler. I don't have to hear Bobby's jests 24/7.  Today we're heading to Dublin. The final stop of the Cuts and Bruises tour. It's been a long ride but it's all been worth it. I've had the best time ever. I'm listening to the Strokes, a song Bobby recommended to me a few weeks ago. It's been on my mind ever since and I can't stop hearing the same chords and riffs over and over. Even when my headphones leave my ears. The song is 12:51 and funnily enough Bobby has a tattoo right on his bicep with those exact numbers. The lads gave us a rather enjoyable tattoo tour with reasons for each of their inked designs. 

I lay back my head against the cushioned seat.  I like this, I prefer it to what I was doing before. The constant stress, the exams,  the structure. I like the freedom of doing shows and seeing new people and travelling to new places. Never sure what you're in for. Crowd after crowd with all different energies and enthusiasm. The adrenaline rush is the best part of the day but when you wake up the following morning, it's like the life has been sucked out of you. You feel like nothing. Human. A person with legs and arms. Flailing around with no thoughts in your head. A billion times worse than a hangover. Post concert depression.  The lull after such a powerful high. It's nice to go through that hell with a group of friends who all feel the same way. Becomes a strange group therapy.

For the past hour, I've been begging Josh to tell me what is on the set list. I'm praying they'll add some different songs. Older ones. Seeing as it's the last show of the tour. Something to surprise the fans. Maybe 'Falling In' or 'There's No Other Place' or even my favourite 'You Might Get What You Want'. That was one that was written when Rob was the lead singer of the band. When I'd bang the keys in that garage. When we'd sing the lyrics together and sound like an awful church choir. I never got the chance to listen to it live, performed properly by the band. I'm still heartbroken they didn't leave it on the track list for the album. I have to resort to listening to illegal Spotify versions. 

I feel like crying everytime I remember this is the last show I might ever do with Inhaler. The last time I might see the lot of them. They'll surely disappear off into the shadows once tour is over, making their next album, cutting off all contact to focus solely on their music. After spending so much time with a group of people, then completely losing them from your life, you just feel so very empty. Like a swimming pool with no water. Or a mug of tea left hollow after spilling it all by accident. Last night — I would never dare to admit this to anyone — I cried for two hours straight into the pillow of my hotel room. Tour is a glorious thing. Fun, exciting, terrifying all at the same time. But the thought of finality is what split me into pieces, broke me up and squeezed tear after tear from my eyes.

Fran keeps looking at me with raised eyebrows like she's about to ask a question. She's scribbling on her set list, making sure she knows exactly what's happening and when. Her earrings twinkle as she tilts her head, her eyeliner sharp and perfect. Her mouth parts the slightest bit to reveal white teeth, a small smile. "You alright there, Luz?"

God, anytime someone asks me that, it makes me want to cry ten times more. I look down the train compartment, stare at the bathroom and decide whether to make my move. Do I run and hide in there for the duration of the trip, two hours of crying into mouldy train toilet paper? Or do I try to brave it and tell her how I feel? Or just lie through gritted teeth? She's good at reading me. She'll know that I'm not telling the truth.

"Don't tell Nieve this but I feel like absolute shite." There it is. I said it. Fire sinks into my skin, blood rushes up to my head. I squeeze my cheek to make sure I am actually sitting here and that I'm not hallucinating. Lack of sleep had made me seem some weird shit. I need caffeine. Quick.

"We all do." Fran puts her hand on top of mine. "Look, one more show, then we can sleep for as long as we want."

"That's the thing. I don't want this to end."

Fran gets up from her seat and swivels around the table. She sits down beside me, arms opening up and embraces me until I think I see stars. No one has ever hugged me so tightly. My bones seem to audibly shift. 

"Nieve's doing a few shows in February, remember? And I'm sure next time Inhaler tours, they'll be on their hands and knees begging for us to come back." She strokes my hair. "Although, Bobby might be telling us to bugger off instead. You two need to sort out this drama. It's driving us all mad."

"He started it." I sound like a three-year-old irritated at my brother. 

Fran laughs to herself. "Fucking hell. I bet he did." 

—

Arguing. It's happened again. Our last day together has gone to a great start.

First stop of the day—a random restaurant that Ryan dragged us to. Hugs were shared, kind words uttered, teeth glowing under dim lights. I sit down on a wooden chair, peel my jacket from my body and place it on the back. The cool wind is slamming against the windows. I'd forgotten how cold Dublin was. Especially in November. Some Christmas lights adorn the streets and pubs are lively with masses of people. We were stopped a only once on the way there by a group of fans—even our attempt at scuttling through empty alleyways didn't work when five friends with Inhaler-themed cowboy-hats impeded our trail. They were lovely. Photos taken and compliments exchanged. Sadly, Bobby was in a bad mood. When I say a bad mood, I mean a 'I want to kill everyone on this planet and throw myself on a train track' kind of bad mood. He hid away from the fans, behind me and Nieve. His height wasn't particularly helpful in that instant. The blonde, 'Amelie', had said in her thick French accent, "Is that Bobby? I was wondering where he was."

Caught. Found. He thought staying there for a while longer would make them think he wasn't there at all. Amelie was persistent, however, and said softly, "Please could I take a picture with you?" 

Her friends all started whispering. Eli was tapping his friend on the shoulder to get him to move. He was frozen. Eli frowned and shook his head. 

"Sorry but Rob's being a bit weird today," Josh explained. "I don't think he wants any photos."

Amelie nodded, but the sadness in her eyes was apparent. "That's okay."

I felt bad for the girl. I turned around, looked at Bobby. He was on his phone. Scrolling through Tiktok still crouched down. A quick look at his phone screen showed me that he was watching edits — edits of himself. I had to take a double take to actually believe what I'd just seen. He was staring at clips of himself, smiling, and wouldn't even stand for five seconds next to a girl who'd paid to see his band. He continued to swipe his thumb against the screen, blue eyes lit up by his bright phone.

Then his eyes caught mine and he closed the Tiktok tab. "You didn't see that, did you?" He worriedly spoke so unbelievably quickly, I had to scramble my brain to decipher the words. His smile flipped upside down. Shock written all over him. Blush rising right up to the tips of his ears. 

"The hell is wrong with you?" I muttered. Nieve heard. She stepped away. She did not want to be involved in whatever the two of us were plotting. 

"What's wrong with me?" He breathed. It's like he was asking himself the question but there was an unyielding harshness to his voice, raspy and agitated. I was sure that this argument was going to be just as bad as the Sid Vicious incident, or worse. Halloween Bobby was on a different wavelength — bordering on depravity.

"You're watching fucking Tiktok edits of yourself. Didn't think you could be that self-centered—"

"Can we not do this now? Please?" Bobby tried to get me to calm down. Amelie and her friends were still only metres away, asking Josh about the tour, about the next album. Fran was listening in. She was smiling to herself. Part of her definitely enjoyed the beef between us. 

"Show me your Tiktok."

"No."

"Now."

He sighed. I grabbed his phone, opened Tiktok straight away. His whole 'For You' page was edits of himself. The account he was on was a fake user account. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"What the hell..." Was all I could manage to say.

"I can explain."

"Can you? Go on then."

He didn't say anything. Took his phone back and kicked the brick wall beside him. He shook his phone around like he was going to throw it as well. That wouldn't change anything. I'd seen the worst of it — at least I hoped I'd seen the worst of it.

"Take that photo with those girls and I'll shut up about this." I gave him an option. A way to let him get out of the hole he'd dug for himself. 

He was so tall. Sometimes I forgot that. But there, back straight, no longer slouched and his neck craned to meet my eyes. I couldn't hold eye contact. His clenched jaw was making me nervous. 

"Fine." He finally concluded the argument with a single word. His index finger then pointed towards me, just beneath my neck. "But you don't tell anyone about this."

I grinned. "I promise." 

Stepping over towards Amelie, he smiled widely, put an arm over her shoulder and allowed Fran to take the picture of the group. Moments later he was complaining about his shoes. How they were too small. If Robert Keating had a chance to complain about anything, he'd take it and wouldn't shut up about it. I just knew at that point that we'd be hearing about his shoes for the rest of the day.  

Tension is thick in the restaurant. I can almost taste it in my mouth. Rob sits beside me. I don't want to look at him, don't want to hear him talk, don't want to have anything to do with him. He's only the only person I won't miss once this tour is over.

Before anyone can get a word out, Eli taps his fork against his glass. All eyes fall to him. Grace is next to him, she's appeared out of nowhere. 

"I just want to say thank you to Nieve, Fran, Lucia, Finn and Matt for being such great openers on our tour. We're so grateful for all of you. This wouldn't have been the same without you."

"Aw, Eli, I might cry a bit, please stop." Nieve shakes her head, holding her napkin to her eyes. "This has been such a dream. We should be thanking you for giving us this opportunity."

"We need to do this again sometime." Ryan pitches in. "Next time we tour, you're coming with us."

"Yeah. That would be grand," Josh exclaims, pulling up his pint of Guinness and crashing it against everyone else's.

Bobby, after all his hours of complaining, has gone back to silent, angry mode. Playing around with his fork, he stares blankly at the menu, fingers tracing the lettering. I watch him as the others melt into conversation. I just want to know what is going through his head. Why is he acting like this? Last week, he was fun to be around and we had a good time. Especially when he's drunk, he loosens up a bit and stops with the facade. He even kissed me once. As a joke. I think.

It was a mess of alcohol. A 'midnight tour bus party'. We were in London and instead of going to the hotel, we ended up spending the night in the lovely green tour bus. We all got so drunk we could hardly speak. I can't remember all that we got up to but when we were sobering up, Bobby dragged me outside of the bus. He gave me his jacket, placed it over my shoulders. We sat down on a random doorstep, hugging each other to keep warm. Two penguins. Two people who usually hated eachothers guts, finding comfort in the warmth that emanated from our bodies. I'd never thought his hair was nice until that moment. How it grazed over my neck. How the curls twisted perfectly and his overgrown mullet framed his face. Or how pretty his eyes were as they shone under streetlights. Dreamy, long eyelashes, sea-like waves. He'd kissed me. His long fingers over my cheeks. His pink lips slotting between mine. I pulled away, shocked. Electricity had sparked between us, my heart was pounding, my body was a torch. Then I ran away from him. I couldn't understand what If just felt. I had never seen him in that way. We never mentioned it again.

Maybe that's what has made him colder. I still haven't acknowledged what happened that night. I keep thinking that he was too drunk to even remember it, but maybe he does. I'm not going to bring it up. Especially now. Especially in this restaurant with everyone sat with us.

"I'm sorry, Lucia."

My heart drops. Bobby is looking at me. Downcast. Entire state is disjointed. His mouth just said that, his brain just formulated those words. 

"What?" I must've heard him wrong. Imagining it. This time I must be hallucinating.

"I'm sorry about that night."

Mindreader. He knew what I was thinking about. What my mind has been lingering on. The weather reminds me, his scent reminds me, his hands remind me, his jacket reminds me. That night. London. The night after Troxy. The wind — cut-throat, sharp, steely — the rain, and my tear-stained bedsheets. The taste of his mouth and the dejction locked into his eyes as I left him. Like I'd made a terrible mistake. Like running into my hotel room, alone, was the worst possible option I could've chosen. 

I'm wearing the same earrings as I did that night — these ribbon ones that a fan made for me. Bobby had pointed them out — which he shifted between his fingertips and said they suited me. He's eyeing them now, hands curving, resisting any urge to touch them again, to drag us back to that moment. 

The waiter takes my order. Bobby's words properly forage the depths of my mind, the veins and the arteries circling around my body, the aching crevices of my heart. I ask for the first thing I see on the menu and a Fanta. I want to stay sober. I want to savour all that will happen beyond this second. Bobby also doesn't get alcohol. Shockingly. The Bobby I know would never turn down a pint of Guinness. But he gets a 7up instead and takes a long, hard gulp of it when the waiter comes back. I'm counting the cracks on the table, how squeaky the chair is, the coffee stain on the ceiling — trying to guess how they managed to get up there. Musicians like to occupy their brains. They don't like to think too much - just do. 

"I'm sorry..." I whisper. Finally giving him a reponse after a long pause for thought. 

He had been waiting for an answer. He catches it. Twists uneasily in his seat. Wood creaks. Rain patters.

"...It was wrong of me to leave you." The image of his despair still rings through my bones. I swear when my cells divide they keep trying to recreate that look on his face.

"I shouldn't have..." his voice lowers, heat pf his mouth glides by my ear "...kissed you."

I'm trying to drink my Fanta with no reaction. Sugary greatness. Cold, slightly wet fingers. Orangey flavouring. But his voice is so low, trickling, burning, goosebump-inducing. I can't look at him. He's too close to me. It's too hot in the restaurant. Soundcheck is in 20 minutes. I want to run away again. I always want to run away. 

Down my Fanta, smooth my skirt, breathe in deeply. 

"I liked it." I similarly glide my lips over his ear when he's least expecting it, returning the favour.

He coughs. Chokes a bit on his drink. Then he eats his Pesto pasta with the pinkest neck I've ever seen on a person. Jacket off to reveal long, tattoo-covered arms, and the muscles that have progressively been getting bigger over the months. I join Ryan and Matt's drummer conversation to stop staring. It's weird. Being attracted to him feels wrong. Teenage Lucia would be ashamed. She’d slap some sense into me.

Dinner ends quickly. We're thrusted back into Dublin air before we can even adjust to the complete switch in environment. Running to the venue, through alleyways, shooting splashes of water all over the place, we realise how late we are. I feel better than I did in the morning. That dreaded train ride. Bobbys giving me the silent treatment again. I hate it. I hate it more than when he's being downright horrible to me. 

-

Our set was unbelievable. The best show I've ever done. The crowd was unreal, the size of the place was absurd. We had never sounded so great. Everything went according to plan. We're crying now that we're offstage. We need something to uplift us. Nieve's idea is to party in the back. Which is one of the best parts of the night.

We find a spot just before Inhaler goes on. Screams bleed through the room, adoration written in teenage faces, phones held up to capture the moment. The five lads on stage. One final time. I scream like I'm sixteen all over again, dancing as the first song 'These Are The Days' begins to play. Shouting along, throwing my hands in the air. I don't think I've ever been so happy and fulfilled before.

The setlist is the usual. I didn't expect them to change it. Eli gives a little 'thank you' speech, mentioning us at the end. Then suddenly encore starts and I'm met by a mildly unfamiliar song. The crowd seems just as confused as I am. Bobby is wearing that stupid black vest and I swear his bass has been lowered all the more. The next time they perform, it'll surely be grazing the floor. 

Bobby doesn't normally speak to the crowd at shows. It's always Eli. But as they play the intro, he begins to speak, "Hi everyone. Hope you're all having a good time." Commotion, screams, chanting 'Bobby' as if it's a cult gathering, not a concert. His eyes are searching through the crowd. The party in the back turned into moshpits and luckily I got pushed near to the front. His eyes land on mine. I can tell he's looking at when he plays with his earring — like it's a code between us. He keeps playing the same few notes on the bass lazily as he grabs the mic stand. Everyone is silent and listening as he says, "This is 'You Might Get What You Want'.

I recognise it now. I'm sent back to high school. 6 years ago. Practice room at school. Instrument cases strewn all over tha place, broken drumsticks leant against the wall. I'm sat at the piano as Bobby announces, "This is a new song I wrote." He passes me the chords starts singing. My thoughts are quiet. The external world is too loud for me to think. I'm lost in the music. The song is beautiful — lyrics, chords, arrangement, Bobby's voice. That was the day when I wanted to ask to join the band. Then Bobby was horrible to me so I changed my mind. I even asked him what the song was about. He looked at the Jim Morrison poster on the door, hand against his buzzed head as he thought up a response. "A girl," was his final conclusion. I thanked him for his specificity. He told me, quite frustratedly, it was 'none of my business'. Then he was riled up and told me to leave because I was 'playing it all wrong'. One of the last times I ever played with the band. So when I hear the song again — I'm back, sitting at the piano with my school uniform, waiting for cues to play the next chord.

The crowd goes wild at the fact that Bobby is singing alone. This is unusual. The majority of the crowd don't know the song. Reminds me of their first gigs in tiny venues. I sing along, staring at Bobby as he stares back. I wonder which girl the song was actually about. At seventeen, he hung out with every girl in sight - parties, random town meetups, gigs. The way he is looking at me is shattering me down to my core — eyes painted with affection and how he keeps moving his earring. For some reason, I wish the song is about me. Then he sings, 'You Might Get What You Want' whilst pointing right at me. Has anyone else noticed his staring? Nieve and Fran seem clueless. It could all be in my head. His face appears on the screen. I stare. Not ashamed. Appreciating his beauty for as long as we have left. Only tonight. Then nothing. Only the possibility of seeing eachother once again. It won't be set in stone.

I'm a sweaty mess by the end of the show. Last goodbyes, last waves, last shocked stares at the extent of the crowd. I always forget how boiling it gets in the standing area. I'm almost at the point of suffocating. We leave with the crowd, taking a few selfies with fans along the way. I stand in the merch queue. I need something to remember this. Something I can keep and wear and just be brought back to this venue, to this atmosphere. I buy a black tour shirt with the bubbly lettering, slipping it over my tank top. I just know the change in temperature will murder me. The more layers I have on, the better.

We slip through the crowd. Thankfully, it's quieter after my long time in the merch queue. I'd never seen such a long amalgamation of people. 

Back at the hotel, I crash straight down onto my bed. Don't even turn on the lights or take off my clothes. I just close my eyes and stretch out my body like a cat. It all happened too quickly. I left the band early to head back, although I heard the rest of them were going to the tour bus to get drunk. I've already had so much fun. I just need to relax. Alone time. Silence. Comfort.

A knock on the door.

I jump up. Still in my Inhaler shirt and lacy white skirt, I feel like taking a shower. But whoever just knocked has impeded any plans. I could just pretend I didn't hear them. I could fall asleep and they'll just walk away. 

Another knock. I jolt up this time. It's louder.

This time I reach the door. Sliding the keyhole open, I see him. Of course it's him. Of course. Of all the people that could be here right now. His hair is wet, mussed up. He's holding his jacket under his arm as it's completely drenched. Looking from side to side, he seems to contemplate giving up and leaving me solitary.

I open the door. Let my guard down. I want to talk. Rant. Let out all the garble mixing up and stuffing my skull. He'd listen to me. 

"What are you doing here?" I ask. I don't say it rudely. Make sure to keep my tone quiet and curious. The rise of his head to meet my eyes is almost film-like, tracing along my skin, photographic.

"I need to talk to you."

"Come in then." 

Close the door behind him. He drops his jacket onto the floor. Slides off those shoes with a groan. They really are too small on him. He can hardly untie the laces without sucking in a quick breath. He looks at himself in the dodgy mirror, trying to fix any flying pieces of hair. His beard is growing a little — little moustache fading in above his mouth.

He sits down on a chair by the table.  His lengthy legs reach up to the end of the bed where I'm sat. He picks up a tea bag, sniffs it then puts it back. I'm worried about what he's about to say. He looks like he's gone through hell and back to get here. I've never seen him so dishevelled. 

"You were amazing today." I hate the silence. I fill it up. "You all get better every time."

He's been so serious since he came in but the ghost of a smile haunts his lips. They twitch then fall. "So do you."

“Is this about your weird For You page because I’m pretty fucking worried.” I’m trying to forget I saw any of those edits. 

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head. He's hugging his chest, arms shivering. My eyes narrow. Each hair on his arm is stood to attention.

"Do you want a blanket?" I'm about to look for something to warm him up when his hand clasps around my wrist. He's stood up. I'm sat down, looking up at him. His thumb traces the inside of my wrist, over a bracelet I have. One that he gave me when I was sixteen. A friendship bracelet he'd brought to one of the rehearsal sessions. I wore it just to get a reaction out of him. This is the first time he’s noticed it. 

I want to ask him what he's doing. But then he's sat next to me with his arms around my body and I forget what I was going to say. 

"Robert..." I don't normally say his full name. It's the only word that's coming to mind. His wet hair is dripping all over my skirt, his head is against my chest, he won't look up at me.

When I pick up his face, stretch my hands over his cheeks, I find his crystal eyes glossed over. Tears. He's crying. I don't know how to react. He buries his head back into the crook of my neck like he's embarrassed. Then he's breathing heavily. Heaving. Sniffling.

"What is it?" I whisper. I stroke every inch of his hair, the nape of his neck, the thin material of his vest. I trace the tattoos on his arm. Finally landing on the music notation inked into his wrist.

"I don't want you to leave." He holds onto my waist, under my shirt, cold skin. "Stay here. With me. Please."

I wipe the tears from his face. I must look like a beetroot. I'm boiling. 

"Really?" I think I'm crying as well. I can't help it. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him so unguarded, so helpless.

"I only sang that song so you'd hear it." He looks up at the ceiling, cogs turning in his brain. "It's not just about a girl. It's about you."

"You're kidding." I have to laugh. 

"I'm not. I wrote it during the summer holidays before high school. I had some weird thought that you were going to call me and ask me out. I was always a prick to you so I don't know where that idea was coming from exactly. It's just when you want something so badly—I guess your brain manifests it into reality. Like every time I turned around a corner, I thought you'd magically appear. I thought you'd say that you liked me. But then you went off to Uni, the band got big. And now this. You're in fucking Nieve Ella's band. I thought I was going to throw up when I saw you get out of the train. Everything just came back. I didn't put the song on the album because every time I hear it, I just remember what an idiot I am for not treating you well and for not telling you how I feel. Singing it brought me back to the practice room, to that shitty piano with pedals falling off the hinges. How you made such a disgusting piano sound divine. I don't want to make the same mistake. If I let you go now, I'll be regretting it for the rest of my life."

"So you were looking at me? When you were singing?" I tilt my head, thumb below his eye. 

"I might have been." He's not crying anymore. His voice is less rough. He sounds like normal Bobby again.

"I'll stay with you. As long as you want."

"Forever?"

"Bit too long. I can only deal with you for about three hours at a time."

"Then we should make good use of the—" He looks down at his watch. "—Two hours and 43 minutes we have left."

"What do you have planned?" I'm getting closer to him. His nose bumps against mine.

"What do you want to do, Luz?" He's challenging me. Thumb swirling over my lips. 

"This." I kiss him. Lips to lips. Two notes in perfect harmony. Everything we've been through culminating into one simple kiss. It's a peck. A tease. I pull away as I feel him yank me closer. 

His hands find my ears and it's like that night again. His mouth tastes the same. Sweet. Lukewarm. He still grazes my bottom lip with his teeth when he feels me shift back. 

"You're an angel," he says.

At that, I'm kissing him again. This time with more passion. Exploding fireworks. Jumping into the ocean, water floating around you. The ringing in your eyes after an explosion. An earthquake. A tidal wave. So many feelings at once. He's trying to take my shirt off. I let him. Pulled it over my head so quickly I thought he might get my neck off as well. He throws it onto the nearby chair, looking at me, with those glimmering eyes and perfect eyebrows. Beauty spots and smooth skin. I attempt to take off his shirt too, although it's pretty much stuck to his chest. He helps me out, laughing at my stress. 

"It's not that hard." He smirks, tugging at the top as I manage to unstick the bottom. 

"Fuck off." I roll my eyes. 

He pushes me down onto the bedsheets, helping me up until my head is on the pillow. I look over his frame. Long torso, large biceps, chain around his neck. It's too much to deal with. Hooded eyes, smirk on his lips, happy trail leading down to his belt. He knows how he's making me dizzy. He leans down, curling over me, scent hanging, cool skin against mine. I throw my head back. I've never been touched like this. So precise. So gentle. Like I'm his favourite bass guitar. I'd never noticed how long his fingers were until they were splayed over my bra, until the other hand was sliding up my thigh.

He kisses my neck, my shoulders, my collarbones, the valley between my breasts, tongue flat, teeth sharp. I hold onto his hair, then onto his toned shoulders. This morning, I would never have expected that this would happen. That the boy I loathed was admiring me and tasting me with unrelenting adoration. Now, the thought of leaving him makes me sick to my stomach. I pull him a little closer, kiss him a little harder and remember just how red teenage Bobby's face was after he'd sang that song to me. How defensive he was when I asked him about it. Now it all makes sense.

I won't ever leave him again.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

You know what I love so much about BTS's music is when you've not listened to a song or album for a while and when you do not only are you reminded of how good it is, but also sometimes songs you already like and have heard countless times before you suddenly latch onto unexpectedly. It happens to me often with their music, the latest song for me being Let me know. It just got it's claws into me on my Dark and Wild revisit and I've had it on repeatedly the past few days. I don't know what it is about them or their music that manages to just keep grabbing at you the way it does, maybe it's because their discography is so large and varied, but whatever it is I'm very grateful.

***

That’s the thing about excellent quality: it’s timeless. It doesn’t matter how old their songs are, how much you replay them, or whatever. When you listen to BTS’s music, you know it’s good because it feels incredible.

Your experience with Let Me Know is one I relate to so hard. That song was released in 2014 you know. BTS were really dropping bangers right out the gate. Like, it’s no surprise they blew up the way they did because they just had the best music point blank period.

They still do.

The songs I’ve revisited recently that made me feel similarly to you are:

- Mikrokosmos: Not a bad song at all, but one I usually skip and don’t add to my playlists because it’s not exactly my taste and it often reminds me of BTS concerts and that’s a sore topic for me recently. But I was traveling this past weekend and browsing music on the plane, and saw it then played it on a whim. And man, it hit me again just how good that song is. BTS knows how to make good music and execute it perfectly every time.

- I NEED U (Remix): There’s this view in the fandom that BTS only recently started putting out several remixes, but while they’ve certainly put out more in recent years to match pace with Western practices, they’ve also always kinda been into remixes. And back in my day, the fandom actually made it a point to enjoy the remixes. I Need U remix is one such remix I used to jam out to back then, and while playing some of my older lists recently to prepare for Hobi’s birthday, this song played and the nostalgia hit me like a truck.

- Lost: This is the most underrated song in BTS’s discography. It’s one of the songs where you just have to watch the live performance and see the choreography. It’s just too good. In fact, Lost > The Truth Untold. By a mile. Jungkook’s voice and insane runs in that song are something you just have to experience for yourself.

They dropped that banger 3 years after their debut.

- Go Go: This song is what solidified BTS’s success in 2017. Not DNA imo. Just listen to their voices in this song. Listen to how they sing, how unrefined and passionate it is. They sound like they’re having fun. I forgot about Go Go until a few weeks ago and it’s in my rotation again.

- Fly to my Room: Songs like this is why BTS is on top of the k-pop food chain. Nobody in the entire industry can arrange and pull off a song like this: choir/gospel with a fuckass organ + gutter trap + Hoseok’s verse… like, god. Those whispered harmonies in the final chorus before the crescendo outro. Jimin’s high notes…. It’s just such a serve of a song. They killed it.

- Spinebreaker: Someone asked me recently how the rapline became my bias, if I started with one rapline member then the rest followed, or if it was all at once. I didn’t answer that ask but anon if you’re reading this, the answer is all at once. I’d liked the rapline since debut but I think it was this song that did it for me. All of them on this track are insane. From the moment I heard Joon’s voice at the start I just accepted my fate.

Anyway, thanks for this ask Anon. BTS are so loved because they put their heart and soul into the music they make and it shows. It’s why streaming their stuff has never felt like a chore for me. I look forward to listening to their music every day I wake up. It makes my life better. I’m happy it seems to be at least a bit similar for you too.