Detective Susie: Well, howdy there buddy. God, he's got an ugly mug, doesn't he?...cute kid though
CR: The kid's name is Ludovico Jr., or 'Lucky'. Now, Kris, have you ever heard of Big Lou before?
Captain Kris: Sure, once or twice. He's not a heavy hitter in the underworld, runs a little outfit called the 'Spade Gang'. His business is gambling; he and three other bosses essentially run every card game and dice scam in the Eastside, both legitimate and otherwise. They like to call themselves 'The Royals', but most people just call them the Four Kings
CR: Yeah, well, as of around a week ago, the Four became no more. The other three kings vanished, and word on the street is old Loudmouth didn't waste any time moving his gang into their casinos and kicking up his feet. Even picked a new name for himself, he's been going by 'The King of Cards'.
CK: You think he took them out for the real estate?
DS: Shit, so what if he did? That's criminal politics, living by the sword and dying by it. This ain't got anything to do with us, kick it down to Vice Squad and we can get back to our work.
CR: It HAS been in the hands of the Vice Squad, till two days ago when a trawler pulled up one of the missing three kings. Hard to determine the exact cause of death, but from the looks of things, he didn't die of drowning; the victim had been slashed.
DS:...What?...No, no way. Couldn't be. This King loser must've just tried to copycat the killings, throw our boys off the scent.
CK: ...yeah.
CR: Thought so too. But to do my due diligence, I had the body brought in and had Berdly perform a full examination. Again, with the bloating, the king kept most of his secrets...but in the slash wounds, Berdly found traces of an exceedingly rare metallic alloy.
DS: Alloy?
CR: Some Crystalline substance, Berdly reckons it's something between mercury and obsidian...anyway, its construction isn't important, it's rare enough that your average Joe isn't gonna have anything made out of it, and...
CK: Let me guess...all of our vics have the same alloy in their wounds?
CR: Bingo
DS: But...why? The whole reason it's been so hard to catch this creep is cause there's been no goddamn pattern to their killings, why mix things up by getting involved in some gangland turf war bullshit?
CK: Yeah, we're sure this ain't just a case of our vic walking down the wrong alley at the wrong time?
CR: If only one king had gone missing and turned up dead? Sure, I'd chalk it up as bad luck...but all three of them? AND Ludovico knew exactly when to move in? No, this was planned, and if it was planned...
CK: Then our guy would've had to meet with Ludovico to plan it out.
CR: Exactly, which would make him the first person we know who's actually met someone who's dealt with our killer, or better yet, met the killer themself.
DS: Hell yeah, now we're talking, so we're rolling with Vice on this one?
CR: Nope, Vice got one whiff of our guy and they've run for the hills.
DS: Hmph...damn cowards
CR: They've sent over their files and transferred this case to us. Now, if you can find some link between Loudmouth and the body, or find the other two missing kings, that would be a cherry on a cream cake...but what I need, what this department needs, is 'The King of Cards' sitting comfy in a cell...and willing to flip on his 'new friend'. This is the first real lead we've had in a long while, but Eastside's a rough part of town. You two think you're up for it?
DS: Shit, chief. The rough parts are where we do our best work. This King of cards thinks he runs all the games around there, huh? Well, let's see how he deals with a couple of SHARKS
Another post inspired by @thelostmoongazer's Deltanoir AU! Decided to do a little writing to go along with it.
a/n: game six day who else terrified and horrified me scared. as always sorry for formatting errors i write on my ipad 😩. no use of pens wags names so you can insert whichever ones talk to reader you want to (i just don’t know their wags like that) hope you enjoy. part three maybe coming soon?
warnings: none
You sat with bated breath as the clock kept ticking down, your hand clutching on to whatever other wag was nearest to you. When Kris scored, the sound of the arena was absolutely deafening, but there was so much time left. The flyers kept getting so many chances, and the entire arena seemed to be holding their breath when they pulled their goalie.
Sidney gets the puck and goes, goes, shoots… Then misses the open net. Then again, and again while the clock seemed to be moving much too slow. Then it happened, the final buzzer, a scrum, and the Pens lived to fight another day. The entire arena screams and jumps as they realize that somehow their team has clawed back long enough to push this to game 6. You hug the other girls, smiling widely and laughing as drinks splash around the suite. The older kids allowed to attend scream the loudest of anybody in the arena, and you take it all in, watching the stars of the game get announced before groaning.
“He’s never gonna let me miss a game again” you mutter to yourself, beginning to follow everyone else to wait in the tunnel. The girls laugh patting your back in support. Everyone knew how superstitious Sid was, and he tended to inflict his superstitions on everyone on the team. They had all suffered somewhat from it, their husbands gaining second hand superstition and routines on top of the ones they created of their own volition tended to be extremely frustrating.
“Well think of it this way, you work in Pittsburgh and are dating the captain of the penguins. Your boss is going to give you a day off out of fear of what happens if the city finds out the team’s new good luck charm was stuck at work.”
With a deep sigh you reply “Doubtful, but I love the enthusiasm. My boss is from Philly.” They all nod solemnly and you walk the rest of the way to the tunnel in relative silence, joining in when directly asked something but thinking to yourself mainly how you were going to bribe a second coworker to take a shift for you. Since everyone had waited for a bit to make their way down to the tunnel, the guys were already starting to come out.
Kindel is the first to spot you and shouts “Our first lady who is never allowed to miss a game ever again is here!” Causing the growing group to laugh loudly as you rolled your eyes.
“First lady is a bit crazy, isn’t it?” He just shakes his head.
“Cap’s girlfriend has to be the equivalent of the first lady of a hockey team, Y/N.” Ben says completely seriously, and you have to hold yourself back from laughing.
“Whatever you say, Kindy.” You smile widely seeing Sid making his way toward you and quickly wrap your arms around him as he picks you up and spins you around, laughing.
“You can’t miss game six.” He says completely deadpan, and you groan shaking your head. Sidney just gives you a look; one you know you cannot argue with. “I’m serious, y/n” he continues as you roll your eyes.
“You’re absolutely and utterly ridiculous, babe.” Sidney just laughs kissing you quickly and pulling away, leaving you stunned. He was not a pda kind of guy, he was very private so the fact he was so happy that he was showing you this much affection in front of his teammates nearly made you tear up. Which was sort’ve ridiculous, but true, nonetheless.
You smile up at him and decide that yeah, it’s going to be obnoxious to try to get the day off again, but anything to keep that smile on the man you love’s face was worth it.
Sighing dramatically, you let out a “I’ll see what I can do,” causing his teammates to whoop. “But you guys already need to get me a full team signed jersey for the last game I went to in Philadelphia.” Nobody protests, really you didn’t think they would, after all you were there supposed ‘first lady’.
As the excitement in the cramped hallway wore down, everybody began to leave. You and Sid were the last to leave, as usual. He always wanted to make sure his teammates got out safely before he himself left, to make sure nobody had car trouble or anything. But really you thought that it was because he felt responsible and like a father figure to some of the younger players, which made butterflies pop into your stomach every time. Sid was just so caring, so kind, and had so much love to give, even if he did give it in a quiet reserved way.
As you begin to make your way out of PPG, he pulls you back into his arms kissing you again, and doesn’t stop for a solid few minutes. When he does finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours. “Thank you for putting up with what i’m sure you think is my insanity, baby.” You giggle, and he continues “You don’t have to come to the game on Wednesday, I want you there, obviously. But you aren’t obligated to take more time off work because your boyfriend is a tad superstitious.” You laugh loudly at that, and he playfully glares at you.
“I think a tad is the understatement of the millennium my love.” He pouts, not that he would ever admit to pouting. “You have been wearing the same jockstrap since you were like 18. Your shoulder pads are older than some of the members of your team. You surpassed a ‘tad’ superstitious like two decades ago baby.”
“I suppose you’re right”
“I will do my best to be there Wednesday, not because I think you wont win if I don’t show up, because you are the greatest player to ever take the ice,” you pause as he flushes and smile. “But because you and the guys are hungry for this and you are fighters. You clawed your way to the playoffs when everybody expected you to miss them. You fought back after everyone was 100% sure you would be swept. You guys are so strong and I know you can win this.” You watch his face and the look there stuns you temporarily. “Even if you don’t, if you lose, you have so much to be proud of, and if nothing else, you’ll always have me.”
Before you can say anything else, he kisses you again, claiming your mouth until you let into one person, and only separate when you hear the bang of something down the hall. Realizing how late it is, you suspect it its likely the janitorial staff and laugh. “We should probably head out Sid.”
He stays silent, that look you’d never seen before still taking over his handsome face. But he nods, grabbing your hand and continuing to walk down the hall and into the player parking lot. When you get in the car, you wait for him to say something but he stays silent and you frown. “Sidney, what is that look?” He smiles and shakes his head.
“The realization for the first time in my life I don’t think winning is the most important thing in my life anymore.” To anybody else, that would sound normal, or like a resignation. But with how well you knew Sidney, you knew how huge that was. After all, Sidney Crosby didn’t lose. He didn’t care much about anything but winning, so an admission that it isn’t most pivotal part of his life anymore? Well for Sidney Crosby that might as well have been a marriage proposal.
“It isn’t?” You ask hesitantly.
Sidney stares at you for a second, before pulling out of the parking spot and beginning to drive. “Don’t get me wrong, I want it so badly. Even if I know we would likely lose in the second round, I want to beat fucking Philadelphia with everything in me.” He pauses as you come to a red light. “But this is the first time ever that I think the devastation wouldn’t consume me. The first time I have somebody who is only cheering for me to be happy, not for another cup. The first time somebody has said its okay to be proud for flipping the script, even if it was just for a first round exit. It’s,,, Nice. To know somebody out there will still love me through the failure you know?” He grabs your hand as he continues to drive. “I love you as much as I love hockey, and that’s definitely a first for me.” It should sound cheesy, or mildly offensive. Nobody wants to be compared to a sport for someone’s love, but you know how much that means. How huge it is for you and Sid.
“I love you too sid, so very much.” He brings your hand to his mouth to kiss it quickly, and you spend the rest of the ride in companionable silence. You want to laugh to yourself, really. Because for the second time in a few days you sat in a car with the man you love and felt completely at home, and whatever the future holds for the penguins, you knew you and Sidney would get through it together, as you hoped you would continue doing for the rest of your lives.
pairing: ghostface!todd stevens x f!reader (f-ish)
summary: It's your junior year of college and you don't even mind that it's somewhere new. Fresh start. Far from every bad decision that ruined you before. You can really decide what kind of person you want to be for once, even if it means involving yourself with the annoying, frustratingly attractive president of the Kappu Nu Alpha fraternity, Todd Stevens.
And then the murders on campus start.
AO3 LINK
contains: swearing (use of whore once), mentions of drugs and alcohol, typical frat stuff going on, and a brief description of a dead body. If I've forgotten anything, please tell me!
word count: 7.2k
A/N: I don't know shit, I have no plans, and I'm having fun. YAY!! Much love to Mads and Kris <3 thank you to the people who have been looking forward to this!! Hope you enjoy chapter one :) would love to hear what you think of it!
(dividers by @/strangergraphics)
You didn't care that you were tired, angry, starving, and half-broke. Finally arriving at the college campus was the most beautiful sight you'd ever seen.
Sumpter College had been a miracle out of the blue. You'd desperately needed an out from your last college, and you'd needed it quick. What felt like a million applications had went out, and only one had come back, shining and sweetly nestled in a crisp envelope.
So, you'd packed up your entire life and moved to Sumpter.
Your roommate was a junior too, though one who was clearly established at Sumpter and unhappy that you were there. Still, she shook your hand and nodded as you gave your name. "Hannah." She introduced herself. "I, uh… didn't really think you were gonna really come here."
You glanced at the dorm room, which was already entirely decorated. "I gathered that."
"I'll take things down on your half at some point." Hannah said, leaning back in her desk chair as she popped a bubble in her gum. "Been a while since I've had a roomie."
You shifted your backpack on your shoulder, awkwardly sidling to your side of the room. "Any particular reason for that?"
Hannah shrugged. "Sumpter kinda eats people up sometimes." She flashed you a smile that felt entirely insincere. "I'm sure you'll be different!"
You shifted on your feet and tossed your items on your side of the room. You'd dealt with bad roommates before. You could deal with it.
Colleges weren't nice to you once you weren't a freshman anymore. They'd welcome you in just fine with emails and set-ups, but then they clapped you on the back and sent you sprawling into the world.
You were glad for the schedule at first. You kept your head down and devoted yourself to learning where your classes were before you focused on anything else. The first two weeks were practically dust for you as you adjusted your sleep schedule and stumbled through the campus like a very lost zombie.
After the first two weeks, you finally got your footing, and you were able to start paying attention to things outside of class and self-sustinence.
Frats, for instance. Frats and sororities were everywhere at Sumpter.
You'd thought it was just very close-knit friend groups at first, but then you'd noticed the rest. They all dressed similar. The guys smelled of weed half the time. They all disappeared on weekends, and you'd begun to recognize the chapter houses. Three weeks into college, a group of frat boys set fire to a classroom on accident and you were pretty sure they got expelled.
You hadn't exactly realized you'd chosen a college with Greek life. Your last college had stuff like that, sure, but it wasn't as widespread or as… rich as these people seemed to be.
You asked Hannah about it reluctantly one night, as the two of you worked on your separate class deadlines.
"Oh, yeah." Hannah nodded. "Frats are the thing here. Some of them are, like, really shitty, but some frats and sororities are cool. I've got some friends from EXI who are pretty cool."
"What."
She shot you a look, rolling her eyes. "You can't tell me you've never gone to a frat party or something."
"I've been to parties!" You protested. "It's been a while, and I haven't been somewhere with… this much influence."
"Yeah, there's some rich dicks congregating around some of those frats." Hannah shrugged. "I can't complain, honestly—it makes for better parties. They throw some bangers year-round, but you gotta know the right places to go."
You wrinkled your nose. "I wasn't really asking so I could go to frat parties. I have better ways to spend my weekends."
Hannah shrugged and turned back to her laptop. "Don't knock it 'till you've tried it." She shot you a glance from the corner of her eye, half-skeptical, but coaxing. "I'm going to a party at a house on Friday night. You should come."
"I'll think about it." You said slowly. "No promises."
You did think about it. Thought about it way too much. You didn't know why the hell you were even considering it—this was supposed to be a new start. Sumpter had been your opportunity to get away from all of this. You could focus on your degree. Foster your hobby in journalism. Maybe join a few normal clubs. You shouldn't even be entertaining the idea of introducing yourself to that world, that life.
But you were a junior. A goddamn adult who only had a bit of college time left. Didn't everyone deserve a chance to keep having fun? Nevermind that you hadn't been to a party since you were a freshman. You'd nearly been through a month of school and you were already feeling kind of miserable. Maybe a party would make you feel better. And you liked being nosy.
Friday night rolled around and you watched, half-mortified, as Hannah applied enough perfume for five people onto her body. "This seems hazardous."
"It's part of the fun." She checked her face in a mirror, pursing her lips thoughtfully as she cast a glance at you. "Is that really what you're wearing?"
You glanced down at your outfit. You wore a graphic t-shirt and pants. "What's wrong with my outfit?"
"It's not exactly a party outfit."
"I didn't know there were dress codes for a party." You said, shooting a narrow-eyed glance at your roommate.
"The fun part of parties is dressing up and letting loose a little." Hannah applied yet another layer of lipstick to her lips, which was either layer three or four. "I mean, come on, are you even coming to party if you don't dress up?"
"I never said I was going to party." You said. "I'm… investigating."
Hannah sighed. "You're a lost cause."
The Kappa Nu Alpha fraternity house would probably be less chaotic if a bomb went off inside of it.
The two of you had walked, and already approaching on the sidewalk you could hear the sounds of the party approaching, like the energy inside the house was seeping out the doors. A drunken, giggling group of girls stumbled past the two of you, smelling like alcohol and smoke, and you wrinkled your nose slightly, watching them pass.
"Weaklings," Hannah said in a sing-song tone. "It's not even midnight yet, that's no attitude to have."
As the two of you neared the house, you craned your neck slightly, watching light pour out of the windows along with some upbeat pop song. Definitely a giant charter house, deeply impressive and entirely intimidating.
You bit down the are you sure this is a good idea? as the two of you ascended the stairs. Hannah tossed her hair over her shoulder as she nudged into the house, and you blinked as you were suddenly bathed in a wash of lights, people, and loud music.
There were people everywhere. The charter house was huge, plenty of empty space and chairs to lounge in. People were talking, drinking, dancing. There was beer pong somewhere. It was like every party you'd attended in your freshman year, except it was cranked up to a million.
"Holy shit," you mumbled. "This is… insane."
"Told you they have great parties." Hannah said smugly.
You raised an eyebrow. "Not really what I was going for—"
"Alright, well, have fun babe, I'm gonna go find my gals." Hannah made a kissy sound, and you turned to look at her, a protest on your tongue, but it died as you immediately lost track of her.
"Hannah? Hannah?" You tried to glance where she'd gone, but there was no sign of her among the crowd. You swore and stepped out of the entryway before someone tried to run you over.
You weren't really sure where to go or where to look. You figured upstairs was pretty much restricted—common sense told you that much—but even that small rule barely closed things off enough for you. Every room seem like it held twice the amount of people than the last one. More beer, more chaos, more music pumping through your head and giving you the world's most blessed headache.
Maybe it had been a mistake to come here.
You we beginning to consider just leaving, going home, and popping some Advil. At least you could say you tried. It wasn't a crime to give up.
Your train of thought was interrupted by you stumbling over two guys who were laying facedown in a hallway, half-conscious and talking to each other about pasta shapes.
"No, but, dude, there's that one, that's… that's sooo good because it can hold all the sauce… and it's all… it's all fuckin' twirly like a… like a screw."
"That's what—" the other guy hiccuped. "—she said."
"You mean cavatappi?" You offered from where you were watching them, half amused and half worried.
"Oh shiiiit, yeah! Cavatappi!" The first guy frog blinked up at you. "You get it, lady. No one in KNA appreciates good pasta. It's like, perfect for the sauce. I loveeee sauce. Sauce is so yummy. Oh, man, sauce. So many kinds of sauce, it, like, blows my mind."
So they were part of KNA. You were sure they were KNA's very best, considering how high in the sky they were. You wondered if all frats similarly hosted parties like this, where their members could go catatonic on the floor.
"You guys don't look very comfortable." You said slowly. "I don't suppose I could, like, help you to some chairs…? Maybe your beds…?"
"Holy fuck, you gotta be an angel." The second guy said. "We're roomies, we've got—uh—we've got a room in the house. And beds in the room in the house. Somewhere."
"Somewhere." You repeated slowly. You regretted what you were about to ask, but you sighed, squared up, and decided to be a good person. "Let me help you guys up and we can go find it."
Pasta guy was named Marcus. The other was Drew. The two of them told you about five different times each as the three of you stumbled through the party as you tried to locate the stairs.
"Ooo, beer." Drew tried to leave, eyes drawn to a table of drinks, and you grabbed him and yanked him back.
"I'm gonna lose you if you have any more beer. Nuh-uh."
You imagined this was what it was like to handle seals. The two of them were taller than you and as floppy as could be, tangles of limbs that didn't work and minds that got distracted at the drop of a dime. By some miracle, the three of you finally made your way upstairs in the chapter house.
Things were… calmer up here. You could still hear the music from downstairs (more seeping through the floors than anything) but aside from passing rooms where people were clearly having sex, things were surprisingly decent up there.
"Okay, do either of you recognize anything?" You asked planatively. At some point, you'd ended up half carrying them, their arms slung over your shoulders as they stumbled along the hallways with you. "Do you, like, got a sign for your room or…?"
"Um. I don't know." Drew squinted around at his surroundings blearily. "Hell, havin' a room is crazy…"
"You said you live here." You deadpanned.
"We do!" Marcus insisted. "Just—uhh, I think… uhhh—"
"You lost?"
You blinked, turning your head over your shoulder at the third voice. Approaching down the hallway was another guy, a dress shirt rolled up at the elbows and sunglasses balanced on his head despite it being dark out. He was… attractive. Not that you normally paid attention to guys right off the bat, but he at the very least looked familiar with the place, which was reassuring.
"Yoooo, Prez!" Drew shouted out, waving a loose hand. "Was wonderin' where you were, man."
Prez. President. Your eyes flicked over the guy as he stopped in front of the three of you, an amused curl to his lips.
"Have a bit too much, boys?" He drawled, his eyes passing between the three of you.
"Dude, whoever brought that shit tonight, we gotta have 'em back. Because, like, mannnn—" Marcus waved a hand. "This shit is great. I was talkin' about how much I love pasta, like, the corkscrew pasta—"
"Rotini?" The guy asked slowly, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, shit, this chick said cavatappi, was I talkin' about rotini or cavatappi?" Marcus mumbled, glancing at you. You offered a shrug, then glanced at the man in front of you, who looked like he was fighting back a laugh.
"Need some help?" He offered, speaking to you now.
Your shoulders eased as you nodded. "God, yes."
The two of you worked together to lead the unlucky souls to their room. You had never been more thankful to have your shoulders free of weight as the two guys dropped onto their separate beds.
"Night, you two. Don't have me tuck you in again," your savior called into the room, receiving half-conscious grumbles before he closed the door.
The two of you stood in the hallway for a moment in silence. Music was still blasting downstairs, the echo of it filling the awkward silence between the two of you.
"… thanks," you said after a moment. "for helping. They're kind of heavy."
"There's nothing worse than some assholes high as kites." The guy agreed, lips twitching. "Appreciate you tryin' to look out for them."
"Yeah, well, they were laying on the floor, I didn't want people stepping on them." You said with a small laugh.
The man tilted his head, folding his arms over his chest as he studied you. You shifted slightly under his gaze, and the vague smile on his lips widened, a spark of recognition in his gaze.
"You're in Prof. Anderson's social studies, aren't you?"
You blinked. "I—yeah, I am." You squinted. "I know this sounds terrible, but I swear to God I've never seen you before."
He actually laughed at that, the sound so pleasant it made a sheepish smile come to your face.
"Yeah, I wouldn't expect that, I sit in a top corner." He shook his head, still chuckling. "Good to know I have an unintrusive presence."
"I mean, I might've noticed you before," You protested, fighting back your own smile. "I just—the last few weeks, I've felt like a zombie. It's my first year here."
"I was thinkin' that I hadn't seen you around before." The man said with a hum. He extended his hand—and Jesus, his hands were big. You mentally slapped yourself for unconsciously noticing such a thing.
"Todd Stevens." He introduced himself with a smile. "Fellow classmate."
You smiled a little, taking his hand and introducing yourself. "Well, hi there, fellow classmate. You come here often?"
"I live in this house."
"Yeah, I got that idea." You glanced around the hallway, shifting slightly as you turned your gaze to him. "So… KNA, huh?"
Todd looked permanently amused as he watched you, and you couldn't decide if you liked it or not. It did make your stomach flip slightly, something warm in your chest blooming that you tried to ignore.
"Not a party gal?" He asked.
You hummed. "I, uh, got invited by my roommate. And promptly abandoned the second we stepped in through the door."
Todd gestured a hand in the direction of all the noise. "And what do you think?"
You wrinkled your noise slightly as the bass of a song pounded through the house, the ground vibrating beneath your feet. "… it's loud." You said after a moment.
"Ah. How descriptive." Todd leaned against the wall as he looked down at you. "You seem like the kinda person who could appreciate a well-planned party."
"Well, you've just met me, how could you know what I like?" You shot back.
"Oh, we're guessing now, are we?" Todd raised an eyebrow, a spark of challenge in his gaze, and he hummed as he gestured to you. "Okay, let me see here. You're more inclined to work nice and hard on your studies, passing the days in your dorm room while you keep your head down. You came to Sumpter to escape some shit from your last college, and you're not fully inexperienced with this area of college life, but it's been a while, and you feel guilty about bein' curious." He paused, eyes sweeping over you. "And you like animals." He added.
You stared at him for a moment, blinking as the silence stretched. Downstairs, the music was blaring lyrics—So I put my hands up, they're playing my song, the butterflies fly awayyyyy—but you just felt a little surprised and a little more uneasy at the assumptions Todd had made. Assumptions that were all correct.
"What a lucky guess." You said after a moment.
Todd snorted. "Is that what we're calling it? You aren't that mysterious, sweetheart."
The pet name. Oh, man, were you done for? You glared at him, but it was a little halfhearted even as you started to shift down the hallway.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Listen, this has been fun, but I'm calling it a night and turning in."
"You afraid of letting go a little?" Todd followed you, hands stuffed in his pockets, perfectly nice arms on full display. "You're, what, a junior, I'm guessing? Don't you wanna get some fun in before college is over?"
"I came tonight to just… survey." You said as he fell into step next to you, gradually raising your voice as the two of you grew closer to the main party. "I've surveyed."
"It's no fun if you act like just some kinda bystander." Todd drawled. "Halloween's comin' up, my guys throw great Halloween parties."
You rolled your eyes. "Christ, you're persistent."
"I'm just worried about a fellow classmate's well-being." Todd said innocently, though the grin on his face gave him away. Without thinking, you slapped at his arm, and his grin only spread wider as the two of you descended the stairs. Noise, people, and the smell of various substances were thrown in your face, and you wrinkled your nose.
Todd leaned down, speaking into your ear over the noise. "Just think about it." He murmured, the proximity making your shoulders hike. "First Halloween-themed party's next week, same time, on Saturday night."
He was leaning back up before you could say anything. He pointed through the crowd, and you blinked. The door. Right. You could leave.
"See you in class." Todd called with some small, knowing smirk on his face before he faded into the crowd like he'd never been there in the first place.
You watched him go, then sighed and pushed through the crowd into the crisp late September air. Time to walk back to the dorms, you thought glumly, as you left the energetic air of the KNA frat house behind you.
You didn't talk to Hannah for a few days, nor did she ask about how the party went for you. You were silently fuming about it, yet decided to not show it at all. You had more to focus on, anyways. Weekends were weekends, yes, but there was always work to be done, and once the week started up again you needed to focus on your work.
Still, some part of you was dreading social studies. You had the class Tuesdays and Fridays, 2:00-2:50 sharp. Your teacher, Mr. Anderson, was a harsh grader and even before knowing of Todd's existence in the class, you'd been nearly banging your head against a wall after every lecture you'd been to the last few weeks.
Tuesday, you sat down in your normal spot, taking out supplies and keeping your head down as people slowly filed in. Before class started and the sound of doors opening and closing had died down, you slowly peeked over your shoulder at the corners of the class. Though peeking over your left shoulder yielded nothing, when you turned over your right shoulder you spotted Todd. He hadn't been lying yesterday—he was probably as far away from the bottom of the room as he could be, leaning back in his chair with a look of ease as he idly fidgeted with a pencil.
You caught his gaze. He raised an eyebrow down at you and smirked a little, raising two fingers in a little wave. Slightly mortified at being caught, you swiveled your head back to your work in front of you, trying to fight back the wave of heat rising up your neck.
After class, you were walking, a granola bar stuffed in your mouth as you tapped at your phone.
"You look a bit disorganized."
You glanced up. Todd was falling into step next to you, a backpack tossed over his shoulder as he watched you. You took the granola bar out of your mouth, swallowed a bit, and frowned.
"What's it to you?"
"Oh, nothing." He blew out a breathy chuckle. "Was just expecting you to have your shit a bit more together for someone who blows off parties for your studies."
You frowned. "You're President of KNA. You've got more responsibilites than parties and you know it."
"Well, yeah, but I have fun too." He nudged you gently with his arm. "Don't you have fun?"
"I watch movies sometimes."
"I like Gladiator." Todd offered, sounding a bit like a hopeful puppy. You almost laughed.
"Yeah, I bet you do."
Todd grinned. "What's that supposed to mean? You doubtin' my tastes here?"
"No, I—" You huffed, stopping to turn and face him. "What are you trying to get at here?"
A different expression crossed Todd's face for a moment. He tilted his head, his features softening as the smirk slipped away. "Beg your pardon?"
"You. Your angle." You gestured to him. "What are you looking for, exactly? Quick fuck? Hookup? Academic help moochin' off a classmate?"
Todd looked at you quietly for a moment, his thumb lightly rubbing at a strap of his backpack. He took in a slow breath and took a small step closer, and for reasons you couldn't explain, you didn't step back, even though he'd crowded in slightly.
"Do you believe the worst of everybody you meet?" He asked, his voice quieter.
"I don't exactly know or trust you yet."
He studied you. "You don't like frats."
"That's simplifying things a bit, I think." You replied.
"Okay. Let's start over." Todd drew himself up very straight and started to tick things off his fingers. "I am not looking for a quick fuck. I am not looking for a hookup. I am not looking for drugs. I am not looking to give you drugs. I am not looking to, as you put it, mooch off of you, though I think Anderson's fuckin' nuts with his classes and wouldn't mind a study friend."
You stared at him for a long moment. "… I suppose that clears things up a little." You said finally.
"Your turn." Todd said, gesturing to you.
"My turn for what?"
"What do you want?" He asked, very patiently, like this wasn't the weirdest thing to happen to you in forever.
It would have been easy to open your mouth and say that you wanted him to leave you alone. You actually thought he would do it, too, if you said so. It would have been so easy.
But you paused, eyes scanning over him. Thoughts ran through your head, quiet and quick. Hannah and you hadn't talked in days. She wasn't even nice, you barely liked her. College so far had been rough and isolating and lonely.
And God, you were so lonely. You couldn't force yourself to join any clubs, couldn't bring yourself to reach out to anything involving your hobbies. You were trapped in a cycle of schoolwork, homework, and the odd work hours that you were picking up at a nearby restaurant.
You exhaled very slowly. "His class does suck."
Todd smiled a tiny bit. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." You couldn't believe what you were doing, but you unlocked your phone and passed it to him. "Put your number in. I'm free after class on Friday."
Todd's smile widened, the vaguest look of delighted surprise in his eyes, but he wordlessly took the phone, his big fingers tapping over the screen as he stood close. You took the moment to take him in—tall and muscled, a slope to his nose and stubble on his jaw.
"Fabulous." He handed your phone back, and you took it, before you held out your other hand. "Study buddies."
He took your hand and shook it, slow and firm, a mock-serious expression on your face that sent another little tingle through your chest.
"Study buddies." He repeated firmly. "See you Friday, study buddy."
"Sounds good. Now, I'm gonna be late to work." You stuffed your phone in your pocket and gripped your granola bar tight. "Later, Stevens."
He just grinned as you sped past him.
"No, but, his class is bullshit, because why are we covering five expansive topics this week alone and he won't tell us which one's gonna be on the quiz?"
You laughed. "He said two were gonna be on the quiz."
Todd's face dropped. "Oh, fuck, did he?"
You just laughed harder, and he scowled teasingly at you, tossing a balled-up scrap of paper at your head. "Stop laughing, this is serious!"
"What the hell do you even do in class?" You said, still laughing. "I mean, he told us like three times, do you even pay attention?"
"I've got a lot on my mind." Todd protested, frowning as he thumbed through his noted like he could see where he'd gone wrong.
"Like what?"
"Like the party tomorrow night that kicks off the Halloween season." His gaze flicked up to yours. "The one you should come to."
You paused.
The two of you sat in Sumpter's library, which both you and Todd were unacquainted with. You hadn't been able to stop yourself from teasing him—what, you're a senior and you've hardly been to the library?—and he had flicked your forehead and told you to shut up.
The studying had gone good so far. You were reluctant to admit it to yourself, but you had looked forward to the occasion for the rest of the week and you'd been having a good time. Studying didn't feel so bad when someone else was shouldering the burden, even if that someone was some vaguely annoying and incredibly charming frat president.
You brought yourself back to the current conversation. "Have you been waiting to spring that on me the whole time?"
Todd's lips curled up, that dim sparkle showing up in his gaze again. "You make me sound like some kind of mastermind."
"You aren't helping your case by smiling like that, you know." You leaned back in your chair, tapping your pencil on the table in front of you. "Why exactly should I go tomorrow, huh? As I recall, last week I wandered around the KNA house, helped your two stoned children, and then promptly left."
"And you met me."
"And I met you." You agreed, rolling your eyes. "But seriously, why should I show up?"
"Halloween is a whole other deal." Todd leaned forward, arms on the table as he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Costumes galore… decorations… themed parties… people pull out their best shit this time of year."
"Does it not get rowdy?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not if I have anything to say about it." He said with absolutely way too much confidence, though there was something slightly reassuring about how definitively he said it. Which you would never admit, of course.
You sighed. "I don't have a costume."
"Well, it's not required until Halloween, mind you." Todd said. "Me, personally, I'm gonna be wearing my normal fuckin' clothes."
He shot you a look that looked vaguely hopeful. "Does that mean you're coming?"
You pointed very firmly at the notes spread over the table, tapping your pencil on the papers. "I'm not going until we both finish this damn assignment, Todd."
He grinned and took the pencil from your hand. "Yes, ma'am."
You tried not to let your stomach flutter. It was a futile effort.
"I'm sorry, so we haven't spoken in a week yet now you're butting in on my partying again?" Hannah was giving you a skeptical, curled-lip look as the two of you walked down the sidewalk towards KNA. "You're a fuckin' buzzkill."
"How the hell am I a buzzkill? You abandoned me last week and I'm sure you're gonna do the same tonight!" You objected as you glared at her.
"Well, yeah, duh, but I don't want to be linked back to you." Hannah rolled her eyes. "I don't want people to be like 'oh, that's your roommate?' I've got a reputation to keep. You should, like, head to another frat, there's one just down the block." She smacked her lips. "By the way, I intend on getting laid tonight by this guy I've been talking to, so, y'know, keep that in mind when you're headed home."
"Please don't have sex in our dorm." You said, a little planatively.
Hannah flicked you the middle finger as she jogged up the steps to KNA and immediately slipped into the crowd.
You could immediately spot the difference in KNA from last week. Not only was the entire front of KNA littered with Halloween decorations, but Monster Mash was playing at the highest possible volume from the inside of the house. As you walked up the steps, your eyes flicked to a skeleton draped in a half-broken lawn chair, a KNA shirt over its frame and lipstick marks smudged on its plastic face.
You rolled your eyes and reluctantly went inside.
"HE DID THE MASH!!"
The inside of KNA looked like a frat version of a haunted house. Giant fake spiders were crudely hung on the walls, caution tape and spiderwebs hanging from any available fixture, Halloween music in the air. There had been some kind of setup that was making the lights change color—as you glanced up, they went from orange to purple, and a few people cheered.
You stumbled for a few moments, nearly running into somebody in one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes (really?), before you yanked out your phone and tapped at your messages with the air of someone desperate for a familiar face.
I'm here where are you
You huddled in your corner and glared at your screen before a text popped up.
I'm coming to you.
I saw you hit that dinosaur :)
You flushed, thankful that the very colorful lights would hide it, and started to text back a furious response.
"No reason to do that, I'm here."
You jumped slightly and swung your gaze up to glare at Todd, who had appeared from thin air. "Who the fuck brings in an inflatable dinosaur costume?"
"Because it's awesome. I told you, people like to wear costumes early." Todd watched the inflatable dinosaur dance a little bit, and bit on his lip, looking like he was trying not to laugh. "You'll be even more pleased when you meet the KNA mascot."
You raised a very slow eyebrow. "The KNA what."
"I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned closer to you, smiling as he spoke. "I'm glad you came."
The sincerity struck you right in the chest. "Really?"
"Yes. Really." He smiled, eyes flicking over your face. "I would be lost without my study buddy."
You sighed, but it was halfhearted, and you could tell he knew. Damn Todd Stevens, you thought, and damn your own stupid ass for liking him so much already.
"So. I'm here at your party. As you wanted." You gestured around vaguely as you shoved that feeling in your chest down. "You gonna show me why KNA parties are the best?"
"Abso-fucking-lutely." Todd said with a grin. "Follow me."
You were given, as Todd put it, the VIP showoff of the KNA chapter house. It turned out it was ten times easier to know where you were when someone was showing you around, no matter how chaotic the party around you was.
All the better, too, that Todd was KNA's president. Everywhere you went, someone was calling him Prez, slapping him on the back, tossing you a glance and then looking away just as quick like it would be a crime to even acknowledge you. Todd was a firm, entirely knowledgable presence. This wasn't just KNA's party, this was his party, and everyone knew it.
"Stevens! Yo!"
"Well, there you are, was wondering where you'd gotten off to." Todd clasped hands and clapped the back of a younger guy who looked freshman age. He turned to you, an arm slung over the freshman's back. "I'd like you to meet Gettys O'Brien. Very good friend of mine. He's new to Sumpter too."
"Surely you aren't a freshman." Gettys said as he squinted at you.
"God, no, I am not, thankfully." You stuck out your hand. "Nice to meet you, Gettys."
He shook your hand, smiling a little. "How's Sumpter been treating you?"
"Probably the exact same it's been treating you."
Gettys snorted, shaking his head. "God, I can't even tell you how much that's true. Lemme tell ya, though—" He nudged Todd with his elbow. "—having known Todd makes it a lot easier, considering his experience."
"His experience, uh, fucking around at parties?" You said, tilting your head.
Both Todd and Gettys stared at you for a moment before both of them barked out a laugh.
"Yeah, yeah, shit, I guess that is some of his experience." Gettys said,. "I mean, hell, he's got more to him than just parties, ya know—"
Someone slammed into you from the back. You yelped, stumbling and nearly being knocked headfirst into a table, but Todd was there, arm suddenly grabbing you and pulling you up.
"Shit, you alright?" Gettys was asking, but you had no time to respond before an unfamiliar face was right in front of you.
"Aw damn, baby, didn't mean to slam into you like that." A guy who looked a bit younger than you but older than Gettys was leering down at you, clearly drunk out of his mind. "Pretty thing like you, though? No wonder you were knockin' me off my feet."
"No problem." You said, avoiding his gaze.
"Hey, really, I can get you a drink if you want," the guy said. "I'd be honored to pay for my mistakes, ya know? A drink, a dance, a date?"
"No thank you."
His expression hardened slightly. "Hey, I'm just trying to be nice after slamming into you—"
"I think I heard a no." This was Todd, who you realized was still touching you as he gently pulled you back by your shoulder. Your back hit his chest slightly, but you were relieved for the backup. "Wouldn't you say so, Gettys?"
"Yeah, yup, I heard a no too." Gettys moved slightly in front of you, squinting up at the guy. "Hey, aren't you that dickward from the frat down the block? Thought you fellas didn't like KNA territory."
"How about you mind your own fucking business?" The guy snapped down at Gettys. "You fucking KNA assholes think you're so cool, having all the best times around here. Just lemme take a pretty fuckin' girl off your hands once and awhile, huh?"
"It's a party." Todd's voice was hardening. "Not a sale."
"Who the hell do you think you are, anyways?" The guy sneered at him.
"Try the president of KNA." Todd's hand tightened slightly on your shoulder, and you glanced up to see him giving a cold look to the man you hadn't seen before on his face. Your stomach stilled slightly, but he didn't look at you.
"Get out." He said firmly. "Out of my house. Now."
"Fuck you, motherfucker!" The guy shouted, sticking a middle finger in Todd's face as he drifted towards the door. "You and your fucking whore, fuck both of you!"
You flinched slightly at that, gaze tightening, but you stayed silent until the guy disappeared around a corner. Only then did you release a breath, glancing up at Todd to find him looking down at you.
"You good?"
"Fine. Thanks. Both of you." You shot Gettys a glance too, and he nodded.
"You stay with Gettys for a hot second, alright?" Todd squeezed your shoulder and then released it. "I'm gonna make sure that dick actually left. Tell some of the boys to keep an eye out and make sure he doesn't come back in."
"Okay." You nodded a little. "Thanks." You said again, though you weren't really sure why. An uneasy feeling was still in your stomach, but it sank away a little as Todd shot you a reassuring look and disappeared into the crowd.
Gettys seemed to recover from the incident quicker than you. "What a dick. That's what happens when you get named Trevor." He turned to you. "You like beer pong?"
"I like watching beer pong." You said slowly, still recovering. It felt like Todd's hand was still on your shoulder, big and comforting.
Gettys seemed oblivious to this. "Cool with me. Come watch me beat some asshats."
Things were easy for awhile. You weren't sure how much time had passed—ten minutes? An hour?—yet you found you didn't care. You didn't drink anything, but some girl from a nearby sorority had baked cookies and you were kind of hungry, so you ate four chocolate chip cookies and watched Gettys O'Brien absolutely obliterate people at beer pong. You had to begrudgingly admit it—this party was fun. Though you missed Todd.
By the time you had the mind to check your phone, you blanched at the time. It was past one in the morning and you had work tomorrow afternoon. You glanced up, searching over the beer pong table to find Gettys.
"Hey!" You called, catching his gaze. Gettys blinked and wandered to you.
"I've gotta go," you said over the music. "I've got work in the morning, I need to get some sleep."
"Damn, you sure?" Gettys frowned. "I'm sure Todd's gonna be upset he missed you."
You nodded. "Nice meeting you. I'll see you around, Gettys."
It was easier navigating KNA now. Though the energy had lulled a little from earlier, things were still active. People were lounging more now, exchanging stories and crude jokes. You slipped by more than a few people making out against walls.
Just as you turned a corner, you spotted a familiar face. "Hannah?"
Your roommate was sitting dejectedly on the floor, stained mascara running down her face. When she saw you, she sniffed and turned her face away.
"Go away." She mumbled.
"What happened?" You asked, crouching down in front of her.
Hannah sniffled. "That dick I was talking to brought some other girl home."
"Oh." You paused and summoned some sympathy. "I'm… very sorry to hear that." You cleared your throat. The silence lingered for a moment. "I'm headed back home, wanna come with?"
She nodded and wiped at her tears. You offered her a shitty Halloween napkin that had been shoved in your pocket, and she accepted it, dabbing lightly at her face. It didn't fix much, but it didn't look as bad either.
"Come on." You offered, holding out your hand and helping her up. Hannah was clearly drunk and unhappy, and you weren't planning on leaving her like this no matter how much of an asshole she'd been to you before.
As the two of you moved to the door, another face stopped you in your tracks. Todd was stepping back into the entrance of the house, his eyes latching onto you immediately and widening slightly.
"You're leaving?" He asked. His gaze flicked to Hannah, then back to you. "Do you have a habit of picking up strays or something?"
"This is my roommate." You said, flat but amused. "Where the hell were you?"
"Some asshole threw up on some cars and decorations out front and I had to break up a fight." Todd grumbled, running an aggravated hand through his hair. Just as you were raising a skeptical eyebrow at him, the door opened and in staggered a guy with a bruise already forming on his face.
"Yo, Stevens, where we keep the ice packs again?"
Todd sighed. "The kitchen freezer, Daniel, where the fuck else?"
"Thanks, man." The guy hobbled off, and you swung your gaze back to Todd with a look of disbelief.
He was giving you a look you couldn't read. "Did you have fun?" He asked finally, voice a little quieter.
You found your shoulders easing. You nodded, even as Hannah sniffled into the napkin next to you. "Yeah." You said softly. "I did."
"Does that mean I'll be seeing you here next week?" Todd asked, tilting his head with a smile.
You smiled back, feeling a little foolish but entirely too warm inside to care. "Let's see when we need to study next first."
"Mmm. A hard bargain." He stepped closer, lowering his voice into your ear. "Guess I'll see you Tuesday, then, sweetheart."
He brushed past you with a grin. "Get home safe." He said, voice all low and rough.
You watched him go with a flutter in your chest.
Hannah blew into her napkin again with a huff. "Can you stop rubbing your blooming romance in my face and get us home?"
"It's not—" You huffed. "Yes, sorry, come on."
The two of you chatted idly on your way home. Hannah was much more tolerable when her ego had taken a blow, and you selfishly couldn't decide if you liked her this way or not. October air pressed soft and crisp against your skin. You'd given your jacket to a barely-clad Hannah, so you were a little chilly as you walked along, but for once, you didn't mind. You'd had fun. At a party. You had made a new friend. Todd Stevens had been nice and a little flirty with you and you'd liked it. Maybe college was going okay after all.
"What's that?"
You raised your gaze from where you'd been kicking up a few leaves, blinking at Hannah. "What's what?"
She nodded her head a ways along the sidewalk. Three people stood clustered around some clump on the ground, barely illuminated in the dark. One of the figures crouched down, inspecting the lump as you drew closer. There was talking. Raised voices. Something panicked.
Someone turned to the two of you as you drew closer, and something cold creeped down your chest.
"One of you have a phone?" The guy called, voice panicked. "Please tell me you have a charged phone."
"Yeah, yeah, I have a phone," you said slowly. "What's going on—"
"Call 911. Call 911 now."
"What's going on?" Hannah repeated at the two of you came closer. The girl with the two boys had drawn back, a hand clamped over her mouth as she started crying.
You stepped closer, peeking around the guy still talking frantically, but the moment you looked down at the thing on the ground, his words became nothing but background noise, washing over you as you stared blankly at the sight in front of you.
Trevor from the frat down the block was dead, lying facedown on the sidewalk in a pool of his own blood, two hours after he had spoken to you.
Warnings: angst, I have no idea how bands or instruments work, reader is gn and eighteen, implied underage drinking (not the reader), smoking, dissociation…
Wordcount: 2564!!
Chapter 1 | Masterlist
Too Much? Not Enough.
The first thing you realised about starting a band was that deciding on one specific genre was incredibly difficult. The second thing you realised was that you would need to hide your face whenever you preformed.
You were a Wayne— if it got out that you were in a band there would be many eyes on you and your friends, and just as much criticism. You wanted the band and music you all created to be known and judged because it was good, not because of who your father is.
That doesn’t mean you weren’t going to exploit your heritage— nepotism is a very small benefit to gain from years of neglect, but it’s one you’ll use to your advantage.
So, for the past two years, you’ve worn a mask every time you’ve preformed live, or otherwise obscured your face whenever recording footage for promotional material or music videos.
Danny was always careful to keep your identity hidden when discussing potential shots with photographers and cameramen— and Felix was always there to help silence the owners of the small venues you preformed in— if the money you threw at them wasn’t enough.
All of your band mates— your friends— were fiercely protective of your identity, and you can’t help but be thankful that you’re all still relatively underground because Kris would definitely get you all canceled somehow for arguing with a fan.
“Yo— you alright?”
You tilt your head all the way back, looking at Amara’s upside down face with a quiet hum. “Oh, yeah. Just thinking,” You look back, kicking your legs back against the raised stage, pulling one of your feet up onto the ledge to rest your head.
Your eyes scan over the currently empty venue— empty of customers, at least. The Swan, a bar in downtown Gotham, was filled with the joyful energy of the employees and your friends, giddy with the news Danny had just shared.
“A music producer? Like,” Blair’s hands wave about the space excitedly, hand catching on their Brothers shoulder and shaking him as they freak out. “An actual music producer?? From an actual record label??”
Danny sighs, brushing his dark hair back out of his face. He’d let it grow out over the last two years, too busy to book a haircut. He holds his phone out to Blair, showcasing the message he’d received. “That’s what Pearl said— you know she wouldn’t lie about this.”
Pearl— Danny’s girlfriend, if you remembered correctly. Decently new relationship, but he’d apparently known her since he was thirteen. He trusted her, so you did too. Still hadn’t met her yet though..
Felix leans down, hand wrapping around Danny’s wrist as he pulls the phone closers, blue light catching off his glasses. He hums, nodding slightly. “Anya Layes— I’ve heard of her. She’s legit.” He murmurs plainly, stepping away to bring more equipment to the stage.
One of the employees— a small blonde woman with striking blue eyes laughed with a delighted tone in her voice, eyes following Felix’s retreating form. “He’s certainly knowledgeable— how exciting! A real producer, scouting out a band at our establishment? How fun!”
Blair squints at her, crossing their arms and huffing quietly. You scowl, rolling your eyes at the obvious want. You usually weren’t one to judge, but—
“Jealous is a good look on you.”
You look over to your right, meeting Kris’s heavy gaze. They stare at you with an emotion you can’t quiet name, a small smirk on their face. Their hands skim over their bass, absently tuning it again— for the umpteenth time since they got up on stage.
You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you push off the stage and stand, stretching your arms above your head with a contented sigh. “Yeah? You like it?” You tease, brushing off the implications with an easy grin.
You’ve been dodging the tabloids various dating rumour scandals since you were thirteen, your friends half-assed comments were nothing.
Kris huffs, rolling their shoulders and plucking a few strings in a specific, repeated order. You listen to the practiced melody for a moment before stepping away, rooting through the bag your “civilian” clothes were kept until after the show. You pull out the black mask you always wore, pulling the fabric over your nose.
Thank the stars for dramatic makeup and contacts, they kept you from wearing a balaclava or something equally as stifling.
You pull the hood of your dark hoodie over your head, stepping up onto the stage with a quiet groan. Amara and Kris were already in place, adjusting their equipment. Really, the only things left to do were sound-checks, warmups and—
“Hey, Blair?” You call back, pulling the strap of your guitar over your head. “We planning on recording this gig or..?” You bend down and pull the guitar jack close and plugging it into the base of the guitar.
Blair climbs up onto the stage, fidgeting with the mesh of their shirt. “I think Felix is planning on recording some of the songs,” they hum, adjusting the microphone stand to the correct height with practiced ease. “I don’t—“
“We’re gonna record the show in full and release snippets online, like usual.” Felix startles the both of you, setting a box of cables and speakers down onto the stage with a loud crash. He pulls out a few cables and tosses them to you, letting you fidget with the amps.
Blair hums, poking the box gently with their foot. “Swear the amount of cables in there doubles each time I see it.” They pout, leaning down to root through the cables and pulling them out at random.
“You’re just bad at cable management.” Felix scolds, slapping their hands way with a huff. He pulls out the bundle of cables and moves towards the speakers, fiddling with the tangled wires.
“Hey— are we sure about this setlist? Like,” Amara, scrolls through her phone— the list of songs Blair had decided on staring back at her. He holds her phone out, stopping on one song in particular. “This is a nice bar, in a decent area. Are we sure that—?”
“You think my angst songs about neglect are too edgy for these people?” You finish, turning your head towards her with a small grin. She nods slightly and you laugh, shaking your head. “Nah, they’ll all be too busy dancing to listen to the lyrics.”
“And!” Blair cuts in, springing up from their crouch with a delighted giggle, like the entire situation was hilarious. “So many of these rich bigwigs are filled with familial rage— there’s no room for love in the business world!” They explain plainly, causing you and Kris to wince.
They’re right, but… ough, ouch…
Danny pipes up from the floor, catching everyone’s attention. “This is great and all, but,” He holds up his tablet and taps on the schedule he made. “We’ve got ten minutes to get through a sound check and start letting people in, so let’s get a move on!”
Blair coos out something awfully endearing, hands wrapping around the body of their microphone as music begins to blare out of the speakers. Their voice is almost swallowed by the sound as they screech—
“Let’s do this!!”
Blair’s singing echos through your head as you shred on your guitar, breath puffing against the inside of your mask. The crowds screaming, people pressing against the meager barricades as they jump to the music and slur barely legible lyrics.
Blair was right, everybody was too drunk to care about the lyrics.
You strum the final notes to the song as Blair’s voice wavers— overcome with the emotions of the crowd. They slump as the song finishes, lights flashing dramatically. The crowd cheers, voices rising in a joyous chorus.
Your entire body shakes as Blair rises, holding the microphone closer to their mouth, addressing the crowd for the first time in two hours. “Thank you all for your time! We’re Deadshot, thank you and goodnight!”
Your breath catches in your throat as the blinding lights directed at the stage go dark, allowing your body to untense and go slack, hands falling limp to your sides. You pull the guitar over your head, depositing it into its temporary stand before making your way off stage.
You all make your way into the Employee area, being greeted by Danny and Felix. Felix hands you all bottled waters while Danny congratulates you all for the show. “That was great guys! That producer really likes your sound— she gave me her card!!”
Danny holds out the laminated card excitedly, eyes lighting up with a genuine enthusiasm that you rarely saw on the morose teenager. Felix nods, resting his hand on Danny’s shoulder. “You’re all free to get drinks— celebrate. We’ll be packing up at twelve, then I’m bringing all of you home.”
Blair whoops, arm slinging around Amara’s shoulder. They tug her out of the break room— back towards the roaring crowd in the bars main room. Felix follows his younger sibling out into the fray— likely to monitor their drinking. You’re all underage except for him, after all.
Kris sighs and flops down onto the couch, shutting their eyes with a hum. Danny sits down beside them, tapping away at their tablet— likely uploading the recorded songs from tonight.
You linger in the break room for a moment before tugging your bag of clothes closer, digging through the fabrics until you find a small box and a lighter. You stand, shoving the box into your pockets.
You stand up and head for the employee door, waving back to Kris and Danny. “Going for a smoke, back in a sec.” You shut the door behind you, taking a deep breath. The cool air burns your lungs, and you move to pull a cigarette from the box and fill your lungs with smoke instead.
“You shouldn’t smoke, y’know.”
You tilt your head down the alley, suddenly very thankful to have kept your mask on.
The Nightwing steps out of the shadows, the white eyes of his mask staring into your soul. You resist the urge to flinch, rolling your eyes instead. “You gonna stop me?” You grunt, making your voice deeper subconsciously. You don’t know how well Dick remembered your voice, but you’d rather not get caught now.
You don’t remember when you learnt that your family were also the group of vigilantes “saving” the city night after night. You think, after years of ignoring your presence, they stoped trying to hide their nighttime activities in the manor when there was no guests over.
Jason dying when the second Robin died was certainly a hint.
Not the time.
Nightwing laughs, stepping closer with graceful ease, hands settling onto his hips. “Nah, just thought I’d warn ya.” He stops beside you, smiling at you warmly. A warmth he usually lacked, seeing you. “You seem like you could use some company,”
You huff, rolling your eyes. “My friends are all behind this door, I think I’m alright.” You gesture towards the employee door, pointedly ignoring Nightwing’s intrigued hum.
“Oh?” He hums, examine the peeling writing on the door carefully. “What happened then? Something exciting?” He turns his attention to you, white eyes peering at you with renewed interest.
You stay silent for a moment, truly debating how much you’re willing to share with your estranged older brother— an estranged older brother who isn’t aware of who you are, or that you know who he is. You fold after a moment, fidgeting with the cigarette in your hand. “We just played the biggest show of our career. We might get signed onto a record label.”
Nightwing laughs delightedly, and you are reminded of Blair so suddenly you almost gasp, as he leans back onto the balls of his feet. “Oh, sounds fun!” He leans forward, onto the pads of his feet, closer to you. “What’s your bands name?”
You tenses for a moment, a quick “why” leaving your lips faster than you can process. Nightwing leans back agains, hands coming up to— to what, placate you? “Judging from your outfit— and the sounds coming out of this bar— my friend would really like your style.”
Friend? Was that code for sibling? Which sibling, you have seven- eight? Was Stephanie apart of the family?
The name falls from your throat before you can stop it. “Deathshot.” You clear your throat, stepping away from Nightwing. “We’re called Deathshot.”
Nightwing nods— opens his mouth to speak— but sound cackles from his earpiece and he still very suddenly, body tensing. He sighs and steps away, hand going to the grapple gun on his belt. He runs past you, calling out as the wire shoots into the night air, “Thanks!”
…and then he’s gone.
You slump against the wall of the alley, breath escaping in a rush of air. You pull down the sweat-slick fabric of your mask, taking deep, gulping breaths of air. You fumble with the lighter in your hand, pulling the cigarette up to your lips and lighting it up quickly.
You take a drag, smoke escaping your lips in a deep sigh.
Shit. You don’t know when’s the last time you spoke to him one on one like that.
The door creaks open beside you, causing your head to snap towards the door with wide eyes, seeing—
“[Name]?”
Blair.
“[Name], you’ve been out here for ages,” they murmur, pulling the cigarette from between your lips and putting it out against the wall. They speak quietly to you , pulling you inside carefully.
You don’t say anything. You don’t need to. Blair’s seen you like this before, they know what’s happened.
Kris questions what’s wrong when you both step into the break room, but Blair just pushes you down onto the couch beside the both of them. Danny doesn’t say anything, just settles against your side like it’s second nature. Kris grabs your hand and rubs their thumbs across your knuckles.
Blair steps back, grabbing their phone from their pocket and making a call.
You sit there, taking deep breaths until Amara and Felix step into the break room, hands full of bags— your equipment, most likely.
You all piled into Felix’s car, gear and equipment stuffed into the back.
He drops you off at the manor, handing you your bag and guitar case, wrapping you in a quick hug before speeding off into the night.
You sneak back into the manor through the back, making your way into the desolate part of the manor where you reside. You shove your guitar under your bed, out of sight out of mind.
You’d strip out of your costume, dumping it onto the floor with disregard. You stumble into the bathroom, turning the shower on and dousing yourself with cold water.
You sit under the spray for a few minutes, sweat and makeup pooling in the showers floor before being swept into the drain. Eventually, you shut the water off and step out into the cool air, grabbing a towel and drying off quickly.
Your hairs still damp as you step into your room again, opening your bag of clothes and pulling them out and shoving them back into your closet. You gather the relents of your costume and shove it into the bag, before that too is discarded under the bed.
You pull your pyjamas on and crawl under your blankets, falling into a dreamless sleep.
Ongoing tags: [Modern Romance] [Slow Burn] to [Fireworks [Black!Reader] [Younger!Reader] [Reader is That Girl] [Obsessed Michael™] [So Much Eye Contact] [Vacation Fling] turns into [Something Real]
Potential TW/CW: [Swearing] [Light Sexual Tension] to [Eventual Smut]
Read Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
IMPORTANT NOTE: SOOOOO you may or may not have noticed (probably not bc no one's said anything lmao) that i fucked up by having the faceclaim names in this post and the character names in the actual fics be different... yeah i'm writing multiple things at once.
SO HERE'S THE UPDATE: NYAH is now NAS, JAE is now LEX.
sorry for any confusion. hopefully this clears things up! and now i have to retire nyah and jae so i don't keep confusing myself. :)
also!! i'm trying something new with the text message layout. this took WAY longer than i intended for it to.. so pls lmk what you think!
The morning came in quiet waves. Sunlight stretched across the carpet. A half-full glass of champagne still sat on the dresser. The air smelled like heat-styling tools, edge control, and leftover perfume.
Your phone buzzed beside your pillow. You rolled over, eyes barely open, and smiled when you saw his message.
Just outside your room, the suite was buzzing with energy. When you entered the common area, Tati was in the kitchenette making mimosas with way too much champagne. Kris was curled on the couch in your robe like it belonged to her. Lex was sorting through her camera roll, muttering “why did y’all let me post this.”
But Nas — Nas was watching you. The quiet kind of watching. The kind that clocked your second smile at your phone and tilted her head gently.
“You good?” she asked, reaching across the breakfast bar for a croissant.
You looked up from your seat, soft. “I am.”
She smiled. “You sure?”
You nodded. She held your gaze, making sure that the smile you gave her actually reflected in your eyes. Then, she raised her glass. “To knowing the difference between good sex and being seen.”
You laughed out loud. And the whole suite followed.
-
Later, over brunch, you told them about the phone call.
The walk. The kiss. The way he didn’t try to push inside. The way he just stood there in front of four girls and said “hey ladies” like it was nothing.
“You don’t understand,” Tati said, leaning across the table. “The calmness. The confidence. That was not a man fumbling.”
“I think he’s just…” you hesitated.
“What.”
You looked down at your drink. “I think he’s serious.”
Nobody laughed ... Nobody teased.
Lex reached across the table and touched your hand. “Then we’re serious about protecting you.”
Kris nodded. “And cheering you on when he keeps showing up right.”
“Exactly,” Nas added. “We’re here to hype and hold. Real ones only.”
And that night, while you were getting dressed for the club in the way only you could — lashes curled, gloss slick, heels set by the mirror — your phone buzzed again.
Michael calling…
You picked up, smile already forming. “Hi.”
It's almost like you could see him smiling back at you. His voice, full of depth and rasp, sounded exhausted despite clearly being happy to talk to you. "Hey. What's goin' on?"
"Nothin' much," Setting your lip liner on the vanity, you put your phone on speaker so you could find the blotting powder in your makeup bag. "We're about to go to the club in a bit so I'm getting ready."
“You look good.” he said with finality, clearly imagining you in his mind.
You laughed. “You don't even know what I’m wearing!”
“I don’t,” he said, “but I know everyone at the club's about to hate how good you look.”
You sat on the bed to pack your clutch, suddenly shy. “You going out tonight too?”
“Late dinner, maybe. You gonna be safe?”
“Always.”
“Text me when y’all get back.”
You nodded. “Okay.”
“I mean it,” he said gently. “I wanna know when you’re home.”
-
When you did get back to your hotel after a night of tequila sunrises, dancing to T-Pain, and not-so-great truffle fries, it wasn't until 2:14 AM.
And, to no one's surprise, your phone buzzed as soon as your heels crossed the suite's threshold.
With a chuckle and a smile, your fingers danced across your screen to reply. And, as expected, he texted right back before you could blink.
You hesitated, thumbs hovering. Though yes, you wanted to tell him everything about your day – the ins and outs, the jokes with the girls, that one random guy you saw on the street dressed as a rat – you didn’t want to inundate him with everything. This is new, you reminded yourself, don’t bug him.
There. That seems reasonable. Answered the question but kept it short.
Oh. Okay, then.. “Hm.” You hummed to no one in particular, “That’s not what I was expecting him to say. Not quite sure where to go from here.”
You responded. Lighthearted but serious.
And again, he replied. It seemed as if he replied before you could even hit ‘send’. As if he responded to your thoughts.
You laid back against the pillow, lips parted, blinking slow. Biting back a shit-eating grin, you found yourself describing your day – still short and to the point, but with just enough detail to satisfy his craving to know more.
--
Please leave your feedback below!!
What do y'all think about the text message formatting?
i love it! def keep this up
it's cool. i don't mind the fic with or without this formatting
hi kris. time for your nightly round of "what did yarrow write today". once again this is from my post s8 arson investigator au, as yet untitled:
He spends an hour or so back at the office typing up everything he remembers from the scene: the smell, the way the wall was leaning, the almost-greasy feeling of the sediment he rolled between his fingers. He thinks about it and then adds what Tommy had to say about the diesel; then he saves it and emails it to Athena. When he finally stands up to crack his back the office is mostly empty. Jim had said he was leaving early to go up to San Luis Obispo and see his daughter. Athena must have slipped out, because her office door is closed and the lights are off. Arne's desk is dark, too. Only Tommy is left, posted up in his corner, headphones on, watching something on his triple monitors. Buck shuts his laptop and packs up his backpack and then knocks his knuckles against Tommy's desk.
"Hey," he says, as Tommy hits pause and looks up. "Everyone went home."
"Oh, shit," Tommy says, looking around the office. Whatever he was watching must have been enthralling. "What time is it?"
"Almost seven. Want me to wait for you?"
Tommy scrambles to his feet. "I'll just take a minute," he says, powering down his computer.
Buck's had a hard time adjusting to the schedule. He comes in in the morning and goes home in the evening and the day is over, just like that. No group meals, no bunk-room, no locker room, no on-premise gym. He's never the first one here, and this is the first time he's been the last one to leave. His whole social circle used to be built around the 118's A-shift. He's felt a little adrift with all the change, and as he watches Tommy haphazardly throw his things into his backpack, he thinks Tommy probably has, too.
"What were you watching?" he asks as Tommy finishes.
"I bought a drone last week," Tommy says. He hits the lights; Buck pulls the door shut behind them. "Spent three days memorizing all the rules for flight zones and then flew it around until the battery died. Got some good footage."
"Oh."
"Yeah. It's fun. It's not flying, you know, but, it's fun."
"Right," Buck says, his mouth suddenly going sour.
They're at the end of the hallway, now, back at the elevators, and Tommy rocks from one foot to the other, looking like he has something to say. Buck hits the down button and waits, and sure enough Tommy takes a breath and slides his hands into his back pockets. "You busy tonight?"
"No," Buck says. The elevator door opens and he lets Tommy step in first. "Got something in mind?"
"I think you still owe me a beer or five," Tommy says.
Original article written by Ajda Gregorc for Cosmopolitan Slovenija.
English translation by IG anjastokelj, review by drumbeat and a member of JokerOutSubs. Proofread by IG Gboleyn123.
📢 Giveaway happening on our IG!
You can also buy a digital copy of this issue on the Cosmopolitan Slovenjia website.
Full article below the cut! 👇
Joker Out: In the Shelter of Euphoria
The Brotherhood of the Band
We caught them at a very special moment - when their schedule is a little more relaxed, and their late-autumn European tour is slowly appearing on the horizon. In between, they’ve taken a breather, gone to the seaside, and played shows at a pleasant pace. It sounds like the perfect send-off for what’s next - and it is, they say. We can catch a glimpse of the future, and all of us in it, through Karneval, their biggest event yet, one that surpasses a regular concert in every sense. Now we know a bit more - about that, too. Bojan, Kris, Jan, Jure, and Nace - no need for introductions, right?
TEXT: Ajda Gregorc
PHOTOS: Urša Premik
STYLING: Alenka Birk
Any excuse for a midweek escape to the seaside is a good one - especially if it involves a trip to the Istrian Monaco with Joker Out, later followed by a chat in Ljubljana. Bojan arrives first. The conversation quickly turns from a dialogue into a multi-logue, filled with priceless comic moments. They’ve already been asked every possible question, so I skip the usual “what are you tired of being asked, and what questions are you craving” part. Instead, we snack on Ljubljana’s famous cinnamon and hazelnut rolls. If you want to find Bojan in his natural habitat these days, the easiest place to do so is right here. “Give me another one, please.”
Now that you’ve had a bit of time to settle - what are your impressions from Opatija? Can a fashion shoot be more exhausting than a session in the music studio?
Jure: Definitely not more exhausting than recording music.
Bojan: I actually really enjoyed it. We had such a great time. On a thankfully sunny day, we escaped a little - it felt like a mix of holiday and work. Plus, we were dressed differently than usual, so there was a bit of character playing going on.
Kris: It was so hot in those outfits.
Bojan: Oh, yeah. We can never get it right - if we’re filming on a warm day, the styling always involves too many layers; if it’s cold, we never have enough. So we’re always either freezing or overheating - never just right.
Who got most into their character, and how far did it go? The pieces from that era really do have a transformative power.
Bojan: Every Porsche we saw was ours. (laughter)
But in the end, you landed back on those good old pedal boats…
Bojan: Yeah, we landed back in reality, didn’t we? (laughter)
What’s your first memory of Cosmo? Did you ever 'accidentally' flip through it at the hairdresser’s or steal your sister’s copy?
Bojan: Mine’s probably tied to the seaside, actually. I think Cosmo was was always among the magazines people packed for summer vacations. I kind of see it in combination with pebbles.
Kris: Same. Though I think I’ve consumed Cosmopolitan more often in a glass than in print… (laughter)
Speaking of summer - this year you finally got to enjoy it a bit more in your personal life as well. Jure, you rode 1,500 km along Slovenia’s borders on your motorbike. Nace, you started teaching bass guitar.
Kris, you did some 'field research' at Sziget Festival, where we ran into each other. Bojan, you came straight from filming 'Pisma snova' (Letters of Dreams). And Jan, we managed to dig up that you were recently at the seaside too.
Joker Out: That’s right, it did us all a lot of good. It was unforgettable for each of us.
If we had pushed ourselves any further, we could have reached a breaking point, because it was already clear that we were all exhausted.
At the start of the summer, for the first time since your huge milestone concert there in September 2022, you relived Križanke together at Festival202.
Bojan: We returned to it much more relaxed than three years ago, since that first concert was part of the momentum and machinery that started with our show at Cvetličarna. Back then we felt like we had to keep those wheels spinning nonstop. That Križanke show was also our last with Martin (Jurkovič, our former bassist), which made it very special on their own. I’m really glad that this time - at least in my experience - we got to shake that stage again together with Nace, because it holds a unique place in any musician’s career. And being there this year among all those incredible bands who shared the stage with us made it even more meaningful. Something like that definitely won’t happen again; it was a one-of-a-kind moment we’ll only appreciate more as time goes on. It truly was a magical evening.
Kris: You watched that first Križanke concert from the audience, right Nace?
Nace: No, I had a gig.
Bojan: I remember exactly where and with whom - at the castle, with Lukas!
Nace: Exactly!
Kris: What about the afterparty?
Nace: Couldn’t make it, I was playing again the next day. Our first concert together was actually at Kampus.
Bojan: You were there?
Nace: Yeah, and you guys were my opening act at the Battle of the Bands in 2017. I was one of the judges.
Bojan: And how many points did you give us? (laughter)
Nace: Can’t remember. (laughter)
Kris: We came in second. He probably said the bass was great, but the rest was pretty lame. (laughter)
Bojan, what kind of feelings do you take home with you from that Balkan film shoot, which is still ongoing?
Bojan: Always very positive ones. I’ve had the chance to work with incredible, legendary actors and an amazing crew. Everyone involved in the film is a professional who has already worked on projects I grew up watching, so I’m actually a fan of theirs. It’s a really inspiring environment for me. I learn so much every single day. Of course, as a non-professional in this field, there’s room for improvement at every step, and the veterans on set actually help me with that, which is really wonderful.
Can you tell us a bit more about your character?
Bojan: Kemal is the spoiled son of a wealthy politician who’s always gotten everything he’s ever wanted. As a result, he believes he can do whatever he wants in life, with no limits whatsoever. In the film, he wants to be loved by the main actress Hana and goes to great lengths to win her over. I’m actually playing a negative character this time, which I like, because until now I’ve always played positive young guys. This role is the complete opposite of who I am and what I want to be, so it’s been a really great experience.
The movie is set to come out in 2027, right?
Bojan: That’s right, or maybe even by the end of 2026.
You mentioned that you’re feeling less pressure now. What kind of period are you in as a band? Have you reached a point where you can just enjoy the view, or are you already setting new goals from there? Up to now, you’ve been almost a textbook example of how to plan and achieve them.
Bojan: I think we’ve reached a really important point - a moment when you make sense of everything that’s happened so far, while also looking at what’s coming next. Even though we’ll celebrate ten years together next year, things only really started moving fast after the pandemic, around 2021 and 2022. Then came Eurovision, and with it a complete 180-degree turn - going abroad, performing internationally... It’s hard to even process it as it’s happening. It can actually be quite tough on your creativity and on the relationships within the band.
The fact that we made it through that, recorded an album, and are still happily playing together - that was a major peak. But like with hiking in the mountains: once you’ve crossed one peak, you have to descend to the next valley, rest a bit, and gather new strength. Now it’s very clear to us what we’ve achieved and how well we handled things. We have new goals ahead, but we’re also allowing ourselves to breathe, both as a band and as individuals, which I think is the most important thing.
If we had pushed ourselves any further, we could have reached a breaking point, because it was already clear that we were all exhausted. It wasn’t about any negative energy within the band, but rather that everyone was simply drained. That’s why it’s so important to recharge - and I’m really glad that this year we all managed to go to the seaside.
This kind of life doesn’t allow for extreme dives into individuality - especially not toxic individuality - which I think is a very good thing.
Jure: This is the first year we’ve actually taken it a bit easier. We know what we’re doing until the end of the year and next year too, but we also have enough space and time for personal things - to just breathe normally.
Bojan: I’ll put it this way: for the past two or three years, even on my days off, I was quite nervous because I felt like we were missing out on something work-related. But this time we had much more free time, and I felt completely at peace. I’m not worried about whether we’ll record anything or not, because I genuinely feel that our creative energy is still strong and high-quality. And I know we have more than enough time. That’s brought me a real sense of zen in my head.
Have you ever almost scrapped a song or project that later turned out to be a success?
Bojan: Gola, for example, was kind of on that path... I remember we started working on the verses back in 2016, and then we just stopped.
Jure: Carpe Diem too.
Jan: We once had a different chorus for Gola, something with milk in it.
Bojan: White as milk. (laughter)
Jan: Yeah, yeah, white as milk.
Bojan: That chorus was bizarre. It happens a lot.
What’s a musician’s biggest fear before releasing a new song or project - and has that ever actually happened to you?
Bojan: That you release the music video and it’s not in stereo, but in mono. (everyone nods)
Kris: Yeah, that’s always risky. At festivals, they often record your performance, mix it their own way, and release it - without your approval, so there’s always that bit of fear about how it’ll sound. They released one from Belgrade recently, but thank God it sounds good.
Jan: I broke my guitar at our last concert - that was my biggest fear, and it actually came true.
Bojan: Surprisingly, you didn’t seem too sad about it. Oh right, I remember why - because you said it would sound better now. (laughter)
Jan: I just told myself, “What can be done, it’s broken. It’ll get fixed, no point stressing about it.”
How did it happen?
Jan: Nace’s bass has a stronger neck than mine, and we bumped into each other.
Bojan: They were sword fighting, those two. (laughter)
How much can you predict the audience’s reactions now that it’s so geographically spread out?
Bojan: You can’t.
Kris: Every artist says you can never please everyone, but with us that’s even more true, because we cover three different regions, and we often hear things like, “Why don’t you have a song in our language?”
When you come to the Balkans, which you openly said you wanted to conquer, does it already feel like a second home, or still like an unexplored playground? Most people there know you by now.
Bojan: Uh...
Jure: The customs officers already let us through without any issues, so it’s almost a second home. (smiles)
Bojan: When you start playing abroad, the ideal scenario is that you play a few shows in one country and think, “Okay, I know it now.” But the reality is different. In Slovenia, we literally had to play over a hundred concerts, visit every village, every town - whether there were a thousand people, ten thousand, or just Jan’s dad and a photographer in the audience. That's actually happened before. We still have a lot left to discover in every country outside Slovenia. I’m sure there are still hidden gems here at home too, but abroad there’s definitely plenty more to uncover.
Kris: For example, we still haven’t played at Vurberk Castle.
Jan: Or in Jesenice.
There’s always someone who pulls you back down to earth. In our case, there are four of them.
Even though it seems like everything happens through social media these days, physical presence is still very important, isn’t it? It often happens that we go to a concert, and only then do we really start listening to that artist.
Bojan: Or we stop. We’ve seen that happen too. (laughter)
Kris: Back then we were playing around 60 shows a year, in every corner of Slovenia. It was the post-Covid period, when people were going to lots of concerts, and you had the chance to win them over live. These days, that excitement has calmed down a bit, and I don't think it's possible to reach a part of the audience that way anymore.
People have been wondering lately whether the new wave of Slovenian music will keep going, since it’s in a bit of a quiet phase after that big bang.
Bojan: It definitely will. But these are natural fluctuations that can’t always stay right at the top. What happened after Covid wasn’t exactly natural. If it stayed like that all the time, it would just be insane. (laughter)
Then you wouldn’t have had this blessed period of well-earned rest...
Bojan: Exactly. If everything’s good all the time, is it really good?
That’s a nice bridge to the next question. When success becomes the norm - sometimes even a bit annoying because of all the attention - do you have to remind yourselves that this is what you wanted? Who, apart from you, Bojan, actually dreamed of this, and who kind of stumbled into it by accident?
Jure: I think we all wanted it; otherwise, we wouldn’t be where we are now.
Kris: When I started playing in high school, I just really enjoyed going to rehearsals and playing, even if it was just for a few people.
Others: And because of...? Admit it. (laughter)
Kris: Yeah, also because of girls. (laughter) I never imagined it would become this serious, but I just went with the flow.
Bojan: If Kris were 14 again today, he’d be a gaser¹ or a trapper. (laughter)
¹Young member of a Balkan subculture
It’s always great to see musicians who manage to live that dream, since many don’t - so many stars have to align, on top of hard work and talent. If we start tying success or failure too much to our sense of self, we can easily turn into that slightly cranky uncle at the checkout, fighting for a coupon at the front of the line, if we exaggerate a bit.
Jure: We argue at checkouts too. (laughter)
Jan, I ran into you on the road the other day; someone cut you off, and you honked... I know, because you have the sponsor car.
Jan: Really? Oh no, then it must have been bad. (laughter)
Jure: Staying calm behind the wheel is a real challenge sometimes. (laughter)
At media and private events, you’re often the most anticipated people in the room - and the ones everyone wants to talk to. Which one of you has the biggest social battery? Or more precisely - who has more than Bojan?
Jure: Bojči definitely wins this one.
Kris: My social energy is either zero or a hundred. Sometimes I show up somewhere and there’s just no way to get me into a normal conversation, and other times I’m the most talkative person there.
And the opposite - how do you “make use” of your fame the most?
Jure: I’d say mostly for concerts where we get in for free.
Bojan: Literally. I don’t even know if that kind of thing really happens in Slovenia - where someone just gives you something for free. I’m not saying they should, but I honestly haven’t noticed, for example, that I ever got a free meal at a restaurant or anything like that. With concerts, though, you almost always get on the guest list practically everywhere, which is nice. But even then, if we feel it’s right to support someone, we’ll buy the tickets, even if we could be on the list.
A lot of people probably compare themselves to you in terms of career and lifestyle. Do you ever catch yourselves looking at your peers who’ve chosen a more traditional path - studying, getting their first full-time job, following a routine?
Bojan: At least five times a week I have an urge to live a nine-to-five life.
We could probably already qualify for honorary status as founders of some sort of brotherhood.
Jure: I’m the complete opposite. When I see someone driving home from work, I think, 'Thank God I don’t have to wake up at six in the morning.'
Nace: Right? Plus, you live in Logatec. (laughter)
Kris: My friends are all finishing their master’s degrees right now, or they already have, and they’re at that point where they have to finally decide what they want to do with their lives. A lot of them fall into a bit of a crisis because they really don’t know. In those moments, I realise how lucky I am that life offered me this path before I even had to start questioning it.
Bojan: That’s really valuable. But still - maybe not nine to five, since nine is a bit early - but it doesn’t sound too bad... (laughter)
Kris: In the Netherlands they’ve introduced a four-day work week.
Jure: Bojči, we’ll make you a proper schedule: you’ll be at our rehearsal space at eight, then you’ll clean for six hours... (laughter)
Bojan: That’s how Magnifico works. He gets dressed, goes to the studio, stays there until lunch, goes home, and then comes back to work again . Even if he doesn’t do anything, he’s still at his workplace. (laughter)
How do you balance your personal life ambitions within the band? You’re at that age when people often start thinking about family, marriage, and so on - how will you handle that when it comes?
Jure: Not happening. (laughter)
Bojan: The clause still stands for the next eight years, and after that we’ll see whether we start adding any new members or not. Nace got a dog, and that already caused a bit of a crisis. (laughter)
The adorable dachshund Pino.
Nace: Pinooo!
Bojan: When it happens to one of us, it’ll happen. Thing is, that person will have to have four godfathers with him at the wedding. (laughter)
Generation Z is often - like every generation before it - under fire from public opinion. You interact with them a lot. What’s your impression?
Bojan: We are Generation Z, except for Jure and Nace.
Kris: But culturally we’re not entirely Gen Z, even though technically we belong there. When we were kids, we had the kind of technology that defined millennials, so culturally we feel closer to them.
Jan: Considering the Slovenian timeline, Nace is still...
Nace: DVD. (laughter)
Others: Blu-ray! (laughter)
Jure: But yeah, we probably spent more time playing outside with the neighbours.
Nace: I feel like young people today face much more external pressure, mainly because of social media. It makes it seem like everyone’s rich and successful. That pressure to already have it all while you’re still very young is probably huge, and I think that makes things a lot harder for them than it was for us, since we didn’t grow up with that.
Kris: At the same time, I feel like we often don’t fully understand them - there’s a kind of barrier between us, Gen Alpha, and Gen Z. Even with my sister, who’s ten years younger, I notice the difference. Next to her I actually feel kind of old. She likes to tell me that I say slightly “boomer” things. (everyone laughs)
Ten years - who’s still the same person, who’s changed, and who’s still dreaming? Bojan, Kris, and Jan - has it all gone by quickly for you?
Kris: Yeah, Martin and Matic (our former bassists²) have completely changed. (laughter) It’s almost impossible not to.
²T/N ex bassist and drummer
Bojan: We’ve definitely all changed; at our core, we’re still pretty much the same people we were when we first met, but we’ve grown from early teenagers into adults who earn their own living. We could probably already qualify for honorary status as founders of some sort of brotherhood. I think we’ve really grown in terms of collegiality. This kind of life doesn’t allow for extreme dives into individuality - especially not toxic individuality - which I think is a very good thing. It’s been healthy for us to go through waves of hype and maybe even a few ego trips together. There’s always someone who pulls you back down to earth - in our case, there are four of them. Over these nine years, it’s really been a healthy environment to grow up in.
When I look at it through the eyes of my family, my parents - it’s easier for them too, because they know that wherever I go and whatever I do, these people are with me. They trust them, because we’ve already been through so much together.
It’ll probably be the first real carnival that many people will experience in their lives.
Jan, Kris, and Bojan, you’ve been here since the very beginning - has the time flown by for you?
Kris: I barely even remember the first five years… I don’t know, it all kind of blends together, especially around the Covid period.
Bojan: That was pure rock’n’roll, right? Days were nights, nights were days. That’s what it sounds like. The first five years were just one big 'blur' of youth, but honestly, it all went by so fast. Still, when the guys mention where we were two years ago, I can’t remember anything either - not the places, the cities, or the timelines…
Jan: But once someone reminds you or gives a reference to what happened somewhere, it comes back to you...
Bojan: Yeah, but if someone asked me what season it was when we played a certain show, I’d say winter, and they’d say July. Everything feels like it either happened yesterday or fifteen years ago, when in reality it was just two years ago. Before Covid, during Covid, after Covid - it’s all the same time.
How do you celebrate each other’s birthdays? Is there always cake involved, like at the announcement of your big Karneval, which will take place on the 20th of June next year?
Kris: Yeah. For Nace’s birthday, which was the most recent one, we celebrated in the van on the way from Skopje to Ljubljana.
Bojan: It was really nice. We waited until midnight backstage at the concert, sang to him, and blew out the candles together.
Jure: Well, I for example, don’t remember that anymore. (laughter) I don’t even know where we were.
Kris: We celebrated your birthday in Koper, didn’t we? At the Slovenian Army Days.
Jure: Yeah, and the year before that we had just finished the Sea Star Festival in Umag, and the next day was my birthday - that was great too.
Bojan: We often celebrate Jan’s birthday together, since it’s on New Year’s Day, the 1st of January.
Jan: When going from 2023 to 2024, there was even that guy playing the accordion!
Jure: Next year I’ve got two big milestones.
Bojan: What?
Jure: Karneval and my 30th birthday.
Bojan: You’re turning 30 next year? What? Oh, wow. Right, of course - we’ll be 27 next year. Damn, tough years ahead.
Kris: I’ll be 26 next year.
Jan: I’ll be 27.
Bojan: Nace, I’m coming with you to Turkey for that full-body medical check-up. (laughter)
Nace: Yeah, they scan and check your whole body and tell you if you’re healthy, and then you can relax if everything’s fine.
Jure: When we go to Thailand again for a holiday, we can stop in Istanbul on the way. We’ll buy a cheap flight with a 32-hour layover and come home with our heads wrapped up. (laughter)
Kris: My birthday rarely gets celebrated together because we’re always on tour.
Bojan: Although we did celebrate mine in London.
Nace: At The Boogaloo Pub.
Bojan: Really? Oh yeah!
Karneval will take place under the open sky, on Kardeljeva ploščad in Ljubljana, right near the spot where your band played together for the very first time almost ten years ago. Will the weather be okay?
All: It will!
Bojan: No need to worry, we’ve already booked that.
What’s something nobody knows about it yet that Cosmo readers can exclusively find out? We won’t tell anyone.
Bojan: It won’t just be a concert, but a full-day event for all generations. It’ll probably be the first real carnival many people will experience in their lives. We’ll really do our best to create an authentic carnival experience.
Kris: It’ll be the first concert you’ll actually want to arrive early for.
Bojan: Exactly, that’s a good one.
Even though this era of theirs doesn’t have an official name, the best way to describe it is simple: the “Jokers” currently look relaxed, happy, and well-rested. And more connected than ever - no sugarcoating needed. The view they’ve worked so hard to reach doesn’t just look up at the sky, but toward new peaks ahead.
Everybody's invited to the Karneval!
Joker Out's COMMENT ON A COMMENT
Post motive: Bojan’s character Kemal from the film Pisma Snova (his profile)
Comment:
@/keyjahn Finally playing an adult!😉
Bojan: “In fact, I’m really happy that I finally don’t have to play a high schooler or a teenager anymore. But when I look back – in all those cult films, like Grease, for example, the teenagers were played by 35-year-old guys. And then we were all wondering why, at sixteen, we didn’t look like that. (laughs) So maybe I still have a year or two left to play a teenager. Let’s put it this way: for the first time in my life, I played a role where they didn’t dye my hair. They left my gray hair – and I really liked that.”
Post motive: Announcement of concert dates for the autumn tour
Comment:
@/unknownuser You should have a concert in Sarajevo, we’ve been waiting for it like parched earth for the sun since 2023.
Kris: “We know, Sarajevo is a tough nut that we still haven’t cracked.”
Bojan: “It’s on the wish list.”
Post motive: Karneval announcement
Comment:
@/binafortuna If I didn’t have my own wedding on the same day 🤭️😅❤️
Bojan: “The only valid excuse.”
Kris: “She should come celebrate it at the Karneval.”
Post motive: Post with their drinks
Comment:
@/mc99621 No sweeteners or sugar, go ahead and drink this.
Joker Out: “Our lives are sweet enough without sweeteners and sugar.”
Post motive: Jacuzzi after Castle Festival
Comment:
@/ifrinferher Bojan, I gave those sunglasses to Jan, not to you. Return them immediately 🤨
Bojan: “Yeah, I know, I remember. The sunglasses we get on stage always end up in the rehearsal room, because our Kiki usually grabs them off the stage. Then everyone takes whichever ones they like – or doesn’t take any. Back then, the glasses were basically communal property, and I was just wearing them. Sorry, Jan, I’ll never do that to you again… until the next gig. Will you forgive me, Jan?”
Jan: “No.”
Bojan: “No?”
Jan: “No.”
Bojan: “You can’t just leave that in the interview.”
you sent Colby a lengthy paragraph about all the things you want him to do to you. and he makes everything you sent come true
TW: Dom Colby, p in v sex, fingering (Fem receiving), teasing, video masterbation (from Colby), mentions of Sam joining and watching, face fucking (Fem receiving), fingering, name calling "love, baby, angel, sweetheart, good girl, good bitch, pretty girl, bitch, whore, slut", praise and degradation, cursing, video during it, aftercare, plot twist
I am a firm believer that Colby is into face fucking
- - - - - - - - - - -
once I started texting the words I wanna say, they wouldn't stop coming. once I felt like I said enough to get him going, I sent it along with a spicy pic of me in his favorite lingerie. and now I wait for his response.
Colby POV
That was one of the scariest things we've ever caught on camera. me, Kris, and Sam decided we had enough and packed up to go home. we all get in the car and wait for the long car ride home.
once we get into a town, I finally have service and I get a shit ton of notifications. the one that caught my eye was the one y/n sent. I see she sent a long paragraph along with a photo. I was expecting a message about how much she misses me. holy shit I was wrong.
what I'm reading is the most spine chilling, boner inducing, and cock throbbing thing I've ever read. the more I read, the more hard I get. I grab my xplr hoodie and cover my lower half, not wanting Sam to see my boner.
we still have a 3 hour car ride back to LA, I'm not gonna make it that long. my breath get harsh and fast. Sam notices and says something. "hey man, you good?" he asks as he hits my arms. "yeah uhm I'm good, just thinking about the stuff that happened earlier."
I'll give it an hour and see if it goes away.
*an hour later*
well it's been an hour and I still have a boner. I roll my eyes and try to think of an excuse.
"hey Sam uh pull over to a gas station, I uhm have to piss" I lie. "I got you man" Sam pulls over to a gas station and I quickly run out of the car and into the bathroom. I sigh as I pull down my pants when an idea popped in my head.
I pull out my phone and start recording.
*a little while later*
I finish and clean myself up as i send the video to y/n.
me: video
me: I hope you enjoy this love
Y/n POV
I hear my phone buzz and I open it without hesitation. I see he sent a video and I watch it from beginning to end.
me: can't wait for you to get home daddy~
I know that name gets him going and I wanna see what happens. not even 5 minutes later, I get another text from him.
colbs<333: god you have no idea what you do to me, angel. when I get home, you better have my favorite outfit on with your head hanging off the side of the bed<3
me: yes sir<33
since I have his location, I can see how far away he is. he's about an hour and a half away from home, so when he gets about 10 minutes away from home, I'll do what he says.
*an hour and a half later*
I get more and more excited when I watch his icon get closer and closer to our house. I decide to get changed into his favorite lingerie and lay down on the bed.
I hear the door open and I hear stuff slam on the ground with fast foot steps coming up the stairs. I quickly put my head off the side of the bed just like he said. the door swings open and I see him with lustful eyes eating me alive.
"goddamn angel, you look gorgeous" he walks closer to me. his rough, calloused hands run all over my body as he ogles me. every movement he makes on my body, I twitch with anticipation.
he plays with my tits as he runs his fingers over my nipples over the lingerie as a whimper elicits from my mouth. I feel his boner on my cheek in his pants, wanting to be let out. I lift my hand up to caress his cock. I wrap my hand around it and barely squeeze it. he groans as he steps back to free his aching cock.
"you ready, princess?" he asks as he places his cock on my lips. I nod vigorously and open my mouth, spit already coating his leaking tip.
"just tap my thigh if you can't breathe" he reassures. I nod as he taps his cock on my tongue a few times before shoving his cock in my throat. I gag but then get used to it.
I let him use my throat for whatever he needs. there's pre-cum and saliva dripping down my chin and my mouth.
his thrusts get more harsh. 'hes about to cum' I think to myself. "gonna.... fuck.. close.." he mutters. he can't even pronounce words. I grab his waist and pull him further into my mouth. "fuck!" he yells, unknowingly I was going to do that.
I feel his cum drip down my throat and chin. I sit up and gather his cum and put it back in my mouth. he does the same with my spit.
his eyes widen for a second, like he has an idea. he pulls out his phone and starts recording.
"oh Sam would love this, wouldn't he?" he teased his fingers on my slit. I can only nod, my mind is cloudy and my eyes dizzy with pleasure. "I need words, pretty girl." he says, curling his fingers up in me. "yes! he would love seeing me like this!" I yell. Colby chuckles at my words.
"seeing you like this. being such a slut for me." his fingers get more and more quick. I know that him and Sam have done something like this in the past, but Sam watching me is so erotic to me.
"go ahead and tell the camera how much of a slut you are. for me and Sam. go on bitch."
"fuck Sam, I want you in me. I want you and Colby to fuck me so hard it hurts to walk. please Sam" I beg with pleasing eyes.
"good bitch" his fingers get more aggressive and he can tell I'm getting close.
he rips his fingers out of me as I'm about to cum. "w-what... why.. please, I want it... wanna cum for you" I plead into the camera.
he grabs my cheeks "only good sluts get to cum. this is what you get for getting me hard in the car. you knew I was with Sam and yet, you still did it. it's like you wanted Sam to know." he coos.
"yes! I wanted Sam to know! I want you both to fuck me!" I whine.
"that's what I thought, you whore" he lines up his cock and slides it up and down my wet folds.
"daddy please I need you." I beg. "fine, only because I'm so fucking hard for you" he rams his cock into me without a second thought.
"why don't you tell Sam what you want him to do to you, hm?" Colby teases. "want.... want you to fuck my face while Colby e-eats me out" my hands cover my face in embarrassment.
he rips my hands from my face "I think Sam would wanna see your pretty face as I fuck you." he pins my hands above my head as he slides his cock in and out of me.
his pace gets faster and his rhythm gets sloppy. my legs wrap around his waist, wanting him closer in me.
he apparently liked that because I feel him twitch in me. "fuck... gonna cum in your pretty pussy, huh? you want me to cum in you, fucking slut"
"shit..... yes yes yes please." I beg more.
his final push in me makes me unravel the knot in my stomach. my back arches as my legs tighten around his waist.
his breath slows as he picks himself up and goes to our bathroom. he runs a washcloth under water and comes back to clean us up.
Colby wore a smirk on his face that I couldn't see. "hey baby, can you get the cameras from downstairs please? I wanna edit some footage from earlier"
"yeah sure" I struggle to go downstairs but I make it through
I turn the corner and there he is…
Sam
he was downstairs this whole time
"uhm uhh... hi?"
"hello beautiful" he says as he stands up and walks towards me. he puts a finger under my chin and makes me look at him "you sounded lovely up there. calling out for me. I hope you meant every word up there because I plan on making those things true. " he whispered in my ear.
his phone goes off. "I wonder what this is" he says sarcastically. he pulls up the video Colby took of me. "I hope I make you sound like this" he kisses your neck and walks out the door.
