Liquid Courage [Rick Grimes x Reader]

Originally posted by sensuous

Warnings: SMUT, language, choking, breathplay, unprotected sex, oral sex

Words: 4,843 (HOLY CRAP)


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The quickest way to happiness? Learning to be selfless
Ask more questions, talk about yourself less
Watch the sun set with best friends from a rooftop
Go to festivals, camp, fall in love and dance
You’re only young once, my loved one, this is your chance
Take risks, cause life moves so fast.
—  Macklemore & Ryan Lewis

Age-Related  {Sentence Starters}

  • “Damn kids these days, I swear!”
  • “No… No, you are not being ‘hip’." 
  • “Live your life and forget your age.” 
  • "Aren’t you too old to be doing that?”
  • “You can stop lying about your age…”
  • “Wasn’t that a little before your time?”
  • “What was it like growing up back then?”
  • “Back in my day, we didn’t have it so easy!”
  • “This is what all you kids are doing, isn’t it?”
  • “So, did you hunt mammoths for extra credit?”
  • “At my age, my back goes out more than I do." 
  • "Should I get you a cane for your next birthday?" 
  • "I’m young at heart. Slightly older in other places." 
  • "Aren’t children supposed to respect their elders?”
  • “You were actually alive when ______ happened?”
  • “Why can’t you just grow up? You are so immature!" 
  • "I wish I was as old as you. Then I could do that, too.”
  • “Growing old is mandatory, but growing up is optional.”
  • "You’re only young once, but you can be immature forever.”
  • “History wasn’t even invented, yet, when you were in school.”
  • “Age is something that doesn’t matter… unless you’re a cheese.”
  • “Please stop trying to recapture your youth. That look died with the dinosaurs.”
  • “I’ve reached the age where my brain goes from ‘I probably shouldn’t say that’ to ‘What the hell, let’s see what happens’…”
pipe dreams (part one)

pairing: reader x yoongi

genre: angst, fluff, smut (eventually)

summary: you’re the girl yoongi left behind to pursue his music career. flash forward seven years, and you’re a lawyer representing a company suing bighit for copyright infringement. what happens when yoongi is still harboring feelings for you?

next chapter✏︎

a/n: this is an anonymous request I got awhile back, and i’m finally putting it into words! also, i don’t know too much about the legal system, and i’m sure it varies a lot in korea as well so let’s just pretend like the stuff i write in here regarding that is accurate~ anyways, hope u enjoy!

Originally posted by bogdana8


It had begun as a joyous occasion.

Yoongi phones you excitedly, sounding breathless and out of whack. He’s not his usual self in any way. Practically wheezing, he manages to choke out a few words which allow you to piece things together.

“Y/N. Y/N. I—I’m—”

“Slow down, Yoongi. What happened? How did it go?”

“Y/N, the audition —- BigHit, they want me! I got second place at the audition! Me, Gloss. Me, Y/N! Y/N, I think I might’ve just caught my big break.” Yoongi is panting into the phone.

“Babe!” You squeal. “That’s amazing! Hurry up and come over so we can celebrate!”

“Okay, okay. I’m on my way right now. I love you, and see you soon.”

Yoongi arrives at your house a few hours later, all out of breath from essentially sprinting all the way back from the train station.

You open the door to see him looking unusually flustered. Flustered Yoongi is a side to him you rarely see. Wordlessly, he hugs you tightly, spinning you around in the air before gently placing you back on your feet.

Pulling back, his hands still on your shoulders, he smiles so incredibly widely at you. You give a convincing smile back, but your thoughts are flying all over the place.

Sitting down on your bed, Yoongi starts to tell you everything about his experience today, from what color the walls were painted to the number of deep breaths he took before his audition. You listen on, not absorbing as much of the information as you should’ve. Your mind is elsewhere, and Yoongi seems to take notice.

He looks at you after he stops babbling and narrows his eyes slightly.

“Babe, why do I get the feeling that you’re not as excited about this as you let on?”

You widen your eyes dramatically, waving your hands around in denial.

“No, no, that’s not the case!” You sigh as Yoongi gives you a look that tells you he knows you’re not giving him the whole story. “I just…I thought that this was just a pipe dream. What happened to being an architect?”

He scoffs, but the hurt is apparent in his eyes.

“Being an architect was the pipe dream. Music is what I genuinely want to pursue in life. I thought you knew that by now.”

As each word escapes his lips, the emotion drains further from his eyes.

“No, don’t do that.” You grab him. “You don’t get to go all cold and emotionless on me. I know you, Min Yoongi. Don’t play those games with me.”

He’s silent, not assuming his typical fiery persona he usually embodies when the two of you argue. The lack of sound is extremely unsettling and you know he won’t be the one to cave, so you speak up.

“This is unrealistic, Yoongi. I love you, and I think you’re good at making music, but the entertainment industry is harsh and cruel and not everyone who deserves to make it does make it. So maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead, before you’ve burned all your bridges. Go to college with me, Yoongi. You can still do your music on the side like you have been doing!”

“Quit while I’m ahead?” He spits out venomously. “No, Y/N. You don’t understand. For me, it’s all or nothing. And BigHit feels the same way. If I don’t immerse myself in this opportunity, if I don’t sign this contract…it’s over right then and there. There are no negotiations. I’m already set on my decision, and if you really know me like you claim to, you’ll know I am firm in my choices.”

Quietly, he adds, “My family already gave me their full support. I just wish you would do the same.”

His fingers are interlaced in his lap and he averts his gaze downwards.

“Don’t you dare, Min Yoongi. Don’t you dare guilt trip me. If you knew me, you would know I’m not one to sugarcoat things. I can’t sit back and let you ruin your life for an undoubtedly short-lived career in music. You can only be in the spotlight for so long, and that’s if you even make it into the spotlight in the first place. C’mon, you have your whole life ahead of you. If you forego your education now, you can’t make up for lost time!”

“It’s the same with music, is it not?” He cuts in, tone pressing. “I’m only young once. If I want to do this, I have to gain experience, and that’s something I can’t make up for either. So let me do this, Y/N. I’ll be in Seoul with you anyways, just not at university.”

“Yoongi, don’t do this, please. You’re not thinking straight! What about all the plans we made? The apartment?” You plead, tears forming in your eyes.

“I can still live there with you!” Yoongi is looking directly into your eyes, but it’s your head that is lowered now.

The tears are threatening to spill over and your face heating up. Displays of emotion like this are rare in your relationship. It’s just uncharacteristic of the two of you to cry, and that’s always been the status quo. Never before has an argument escalated to this degree of intensity.

Looking up slowly, you give Yoongi a teary-eyed smile, dragging in a shaky breath.

“Don’t be silly. You’ll be living in the dorms with the other trainees.”

“Well, I can visit you.” He responds simply, but his voice wavers, revealing his underlying emotions.

In return, you direct a pointed look at him.

“Yoongi, I can’t just sit back and watch you wreck your life.”

Silence swallows the room. You’re blinking rapidly, trying so desperately to expel the tears from your eyes, to refrain from showing how affected you are by this.

“So don’t.” Yoongi’s eyes are completely devoid of emotion now. “Don’t watch. If you don’t support the decisions I make in my life, then maybe you don’t have a place in it.”

And with that, he’s leaving, rumbling through your closet for his belongings.

You stand up, trying to grab at his arms to stop him, but he shakes you off without so much as a look in your direction.

“Yoongi, you don’t mean that!”

He’s grabbing all the items he’s left behind here: a basketball, a pair of shoes, some headphones, a disposable camera.

“Yoongi, this is just one of our fights, right? You’ll call me tomorrow, begging for me back, saying I was right all along, right?”

You can’t help but voice your fears, feeling as if this time something is different. You’re not sure if you’re saying these things in search of Yoongi’s verbal affirmation or if it’s to reassure yourself that things will be okay. Something is tugging at your insides, reminding you that he has never before taken his belongings with him after a dispute.

Setting aside your pride, you get down on your knees, grabbing at his hand as he slings his backpack over his shoulder, clutching the basketball tightly to his chest in the other.

“Please, Yoongi, I’m begging you. Don’t do this, don’t leave me.”

Yoongi is stiff, cold, and motionless.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He walks away, and for each step he takes you feel your heart shatter into smaller and smaller pieces, as if he’s physically crushing you, until you’re left only with ragged fragments of the love you once had, the treasure you once held named Min Yoongi.

Deliriously, you tear your room apart in search of something, anything Yoongi may have left behind. You find solace behind your desk. There, in the darkness of the small space between the wall and the wood of the desk, is a glimpse of white fabric.

You shove the desk away, summoning all the remaining strength in your body and ignoring the sound of the legs scraping against your hardwood floor. Clutching the old white t-shirt he’s forgotten, you can still detect his lingering scent.

Inhaling the faint musky fragrance, you allow the sobs you have been holding in to wrack your body. The crying comes in waves, the first hitting the hardest. There is a huge, Yoongi-sized hole in your heart, and it’s eating away at your insides, threatening to conquer your whole being with darkness. As each day passes, you shrivel further and further into oblivion.

Memories of your time with Yoongi flash through your mind.

The day you had your first kiss.

Yoongi had been so nervous, and you could feel how sweaty his hand was as it was interlocked in yours. He had cleared his throat anxiously as he pulled you two to a stop in front of a lamppost near your house.

“Y/N, can I kiss you?” He had mumbled.

“What did you say? Speak up, Min Yoongi.” You teased, fully aware of what he had just uttered.

“Shut up, Y/N.”

His lips pressed tentatively against yours, and he was motionless until you pressed into him firmly in response. You could feel his lips turning upwards in a smile, and you couldn’t stop yours from mirroring the action.

The day he’d asked you to be his girlfriend.

Your doorbell had rung erratically, and you ran to the door, scared of what was behind it. Looking through the peephole, you relaxed as you saw it was only Yoongi. Once you’d opened the door, you were greeted with sight of him extending a bouquet of bright orange tiger lilies.

“What’s this for?” You’re grinning from ear to ear as you accept the flowers. Yoongi has never gifted you flowers before.

“What, can’t a guy buy flowers for his girlfriend?” Yoongi shot back, eyes widening as he realized what he had just referred to you as.

“Girlfriend?” You repeated, eyebrow raised.

“Shit. Fuck. I was going to wait to ask you after I took you out to dinner, fuck.” Yoongi cursed under his breath. He had looked up at you so nervously, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Well, I don’t think I could’ve waited another second for you to ask. I’m glad you did it right now and not later tonight because I might’ve pulled my hair out.”

The day he’d written his first song for you.

“Babe.” Yoongi was looking surprisingly bashful, hand smoothing his hair down as he removed his beanie in the car.

“What’s up?” You said through a mouth full of french fries.

“I wrote a song today. It just came to me after a dry spell, some writer’s block. It took a total of less than an hour to write.”

“Babe, that’s great!” You had smiled, shoving more fries in your mouth. “Let’s hear it.”

Gulping, Yoongi hit play on his car’s dashboard after a few seconds of fumbling around with a disk. The sounds of his rapping filled the car and it took a few moments of digesting his words before you could come to your senses.

You’re so fucking celestial.

Let me drown in your ethereal aura; let’s be immortal together.

I love you more than all the stars in the universe and beyond.

“D-did you like it?” Yoongi was tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. Looking up misty-eyed, you threw yourself onto him, peppering kisses all over his face. He must have felt your tears on his skin, and he pulled back to examine you, brushing your hair back.

“Babe, why are you crying? Was it that awful?” He looked so disappointed in himself.

“No, no! It was amazing, all I ever wanted. I love you so much, Min Yoongi. I will treasure this forever.” You were sniffling crazily, wiping at your now smudged mascara.

“I’m glad you liked it. I couldn’t think of any way to confess my love to you, so I decided to do what I’m good at, writing songs.” He pulled you tight against his chest, sighing.

“I love you.” You had whispered.

“I love you, too.”

The day you opened your college acceptances together.


“One, two, three, go!”

It had been a frenzy of tearing, crinkling of papers as your eyes scanned frivolously over the black ink.

“Did you get in?” Yoongi had asked.

“Yes! You?” You looked over, eyes wide. Yoongi had been silent, looking at you admiringly. You had taken that to mean that he hadn’t gotten in, and you immediately switched into sympathetic mode. “It’s okay, babe. We can always—-“

“Are you doubting my academic excellence?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow at you. Realizing your mistake, you had slapped his arm playfully.

“Yah, don’t play me like that! I thought you didn’t get in and that we wouldn’t be going to school together.” You were pouting like a child, arms crossed.

Yoongi had uncrossed your arms and placed them around his neck as he picked you up and spun you around, exactly like he had today. You were giddy with happiness, and he had kissed you countless times out of pure elation at the thought of being at the same school with you for the next four years.

Through the tears, you laugh bitterly as the harsh reality of now settles in the pit of your stomach like a stone. Another four years together. Or so you had thought.

What would the past, naive you have said if she had known what would happen?

Yoongi would never do that to me. We are in love.

Wildly, you burst into a fit of maniacal laughter. It sickens you. The state you’re in now, the complete emptiness that is swallowing you whole. In the course of an hour, you had been transformed into an absolutely hopeless person, the shell of the girl you were before.

You had no living arrangements for the upcoming school year, and worst of all, you were boyfriendless. The next few months of summer are perhaps the biggest hurdle. All of your high school friends had departed for university before you and were scattered in different cities, perhaps even in different countries. Whoever was left in your town was of no importance to you anymore, as you had grown apart from many people in the past two years of dating Yoongi.

He was your everything. You didn’t need a best friend if you had Yoongi. He could easily fill the shoes of both boyfriend and best friend.

Fast forward to the start of the school year, and you’re moving into your dorm.

It’s a mess of boxes and goodbyes as your parents leave you to lead a fresh start with new faces in a new place.

Your roommate, Joy, immediately becomes your best friend, mending the cracks left behind by Yoongi slightly. She’s bubbly and sweet, but also has an edge to her, something that screams that she’s not someone to mess with.

All in all, she’s a fantastic all and you find yourselves stuck together like glue. Joy forces you to socialize, bringing you to various club meetings and sporting events.

It is at the pre-law society meetings that you first meet Im Jaebum. For a brief lapse of time, you feel the wound left behind by Yoongi closing up almost entirely. Almost.

It’s impossible not to draw parallels to Yoongi.

In a lot of ways, Jaebum is a constant reminder of him, from the cute eye smile to the cool demeanor and even down to the passion for music. But what is different about Jaebum is that he has a clear vision for his future: law school.

And this small part of him is what connects Jaebum to you in a way that Yoongi never was able to. The realistic, safe path for a career that could guarantee stability in the long run.

In short, Jaebum sweeps you off of your feet. You fall in love with him in a whirlwind. It’s everything about him that piles together to engross you: the little twin freckles above his eyes to his collection of dumb bucket hats…but it seems like all good things in your life come to an end, as you unearth his infidelity one night when you stumble upon him in an act of cheating. He crushes your heart, just like the last.

Another similarity to Min Yoongi.

At this point, you’ve grown accustomed to disappointment, adopting the stance that love is fleeting, and definitely nothing like you hear in love songs.

Love is not immortal, and stars die out eventually, just as love dims over time.

Joy is there through all the crashing and burning that follows your breakup with Jaebum. She strokes your hair as you cry, buys you ice cream, and defaces photos of Jaebum she rips out from the school newspaper.

“Fuck Im Jaebum.” She declares. “You deserve so much better than that cheating piece of shit.”

Joy brings you back to life again, pulls you out of your resigned feelings. She makes you believe that unlike the true love detailed in books and movies, true friendship does actually exist, and it’s right in front of your eyes in the form of this pale-skinned, fiery woman.

Although you did love Im Jaebum, a part of your heart could never be relinquished to his possession. A part of it still belonged to Min Yoongi, and in the days following your new wounds, you realize this. To be exact, you discover this when you’re taking a stroll by the Han River one fine Sunday evening.

The sounds of basketballs dribbling and shoes dragging against blacktop courts distract you. Mindlessly, your eyes drift over to the courts aligning the bank of the river. There is a sharp, distinguishable pain in your chest when you recognize a certain pair of bright red basketball shoes.

Your eyes slowly trail up to see none other than Min Yoongi.

He looks much skinnier than he was a year ago, and he had always been on the smaller side. It hurts you unbearably to see him smiling so cheerfully with his teammates, joking around.

His eyes trickle in your direction and you duck your head immediately, jogging away as if you had never stopped in the first place.

Your heart is thudding against the confines of your chest.

Did he see me? Would he even recognize me if he did? Has he erased me from his memory completely?

You convince yourself that there’s no way he would have recognized you, as your hair is shorter than before and you’ve changed your hair color quite often. Although you had embarked on your trip to the river intending on taking a nice, calm stroll, you practically sprint back to your dorm room.

Joy glances up from her seat at her desk as she’s painting her nails a shade of pastel pink.

“Did you go for a jog or a walk?” She giggles, taking in your flustered appearance. Tears fall from your eyes, tears you did not notice had formed.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying, Y/N? I was just joking!” She’s panicking, reaching all around in search of tissues, knocking her nail polish bottle over along with a few books.

“I saw—I saw HIM, on my walk—by the river!” You hiccup.

“Who? Im Jaebum? I’ll kick his ass! What did he say to you? Oh, I can just picture his lousy old smirk. I’ll slap it right off of his face, I swear to God!” Joy is pacing around, pummeling her fist against her hand. Her eyes are ablaze, determination set across her face.

“No, not Jaebum. Yoongi. Min Yoongi.” Your crying elevates into full fledged sobbing as you utter his name for the first time since he left you. It’s as if the dam has broken and all your emotions are flooding through your body.

“W-who?” Joy falters, stopping momentarily. “Actually, I don’t care. I’ll kick Min Yoongi’s ass too! What did he do to you?”

“Nothing.” You sigh, wiping at your face frantically. “Well, nothing recently. We dated in high school for two years. He was my first love, and he was supposed to go to university with me and we were supposed to live in an apartment together here in Seoul, but he dumped me because I didn’t support his dream of becoming a trainee and pursuing music as a career. I had so much pride; I wanted to tell people my boyfriend was a soon-to-be architect, not a fucking rapper waiting for his big break.”

“Aw, honey. It’s okay. So what happened today?” She puts her arm around your shoulder, taking a seat on your bed next to you.

“I saw him playing basketball and he just looked so…happy? Like genuinely happy, something I didn’t think he could be without me. It just stings to know he doesn’t have a huge gaping hole in his heart like I carry around with me.” You take another deep breath, continuing. “He must be doing well at his company, and here I am, freshly dumped by another man who is basically the closest thing to Min Yoongi I have ever encountered after Min Yoongi himself. And to make things worse, he fucking cheated on me. Min Yoongi didn’t need me, and Im Jaebum sure as hell didn’t need me either. What did I do wrong, Joy?”

Joy grips you by your shoulders, forcing eye contact as she peers into your eyes rather demandingly.

“Nothing, honey. They’re just too fucking dense to see that you’re the BADDEST BITCH to walk the earth. They missed out on a huge fuckin’ catch, let me tell you. You’re so out of Jaebum’s league, and it sounds to me like you’re way out of Yoongi’s league, too. They can cry themselves to sleep when you’re out here making the big bucks as a corporate lawyer.”

Sniffling, you nod, fist clenching against your side.  “Yeah! I’m going to kick ass in school and go to a kickass law school and I’m going to make them sorry they ever left me.”

And you follow through on this promise.

The next three years fly by. Initially, you walked by the basketball courts lining the Han River every Sunday night, relishing the occasional, short-lived glimpse of Yoongi.

But eventually he stops showing up, and you do too.

Just like before, your paths reached a fork in the road, and the two of you chose different directions to walk.

Law school flies by as well. You graduate with flying colors, becoming a law clerk shortly before landing a job at a well-respected corporate law firm as an actual attorney.

Joy convinces you to go out to a bar with your friends to celebrate your new job.

“To Y/N!” Joy raises her glass, clinking it as your friends, Mark and Wendy, echo her words. The night ensues normally, and you relish the feeling of being surrounded by friends, catching up on everything that’s happened since your last hangout.

“So how’s your love life?” Wendy asks you, eyes wide and full of concern.

“Nonexistent.” You snort into your glass, taking another sip.

“No one since JB?” Mark whispers his initials as if it’s a secret codename.

“Nope. I haven’t even seen Jaebum since we broke up. It was so easy to ghost someone when you’re in college.” You wave your hand around floppily. “Love is dead, you guys. It’s a fucking myth.”

“You know, I could introduce to you a friend of mine if you want. They all know who you are, and some of them think you’re seriously hot.” Mark suggests, twirling his drink straw around.

“It’s okay, I think I can manage on my own. Besides, I’m not sure I’m looking for anything right now. I need to focus on my career, Mark!”

“Typical Y/N, always focusing on your job over your love life. But seriously, don’t hesitate to ask if you ever feel the least bit interested. I’m not kidding.” Mark sighs, giving up.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Mark. If it were up to you, all of our marriages would be arranged by now.” Joy snorts, causing Wendy to choke on her drink as she laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, you’re always trying to set us up! How many eligible bachelor friends do you have, Tuan?” Wendy scoffs.

You giggle as Mark starts to protest, listening in on their banter until you start to feel drowsy. Joy notices your eyelids getting droopy, and she stands up to announce that you should all get going.

“Let’s call it a night, guys. Y/N has her first day on the job tomorrow, and it’s almost midnight already.” Joy declares. Collectively, the group of you makes your way towards the exit, standing out on the street.

“We’re so proud of you, Y/N. You’re gonna do amazing things.” Wendy coos, kissing you on the cheek before you all part ways for the night.

Mark pulls you into a tight hug. “Keep on grinding.”

Arriving home in a taxi, you go to bed feeling full of love and appreciation for how well your life is going.

The alarm breaks the peaceful slumber you are in much earlier than you’d like. Heading into work, you’re immediately thrown into stacks of paperwork. Each year you are expecting to take on about two cases, as they typically take forever to be settled, and the rest of the time you are a consultant to various companies.

Your field of expertise is copyright infringements, and you find yourself working almost exclusively with music labels and entertainment companies.

The first job the firm assigns you to is at SM Entertainment, where you are to work as a consultant in regards to a new album release for Exo.

Entering the meeting room, you take a seat on the black swivel chair, splaying your paperwork in front of you as you prepare for a meeting with the members on discussing what content they can legally release on social media, and how music sampling should be approached.

In the corner of your eye, you see a small brunette slip in the room quietly. Looking up immediately, you stand, smoothing your pencil skirt down and extending a hand professionally.

“Hello, I’m Y/N, the lawyer at hand for copyright consultations.”

“Hi, I’m Do Kyungsoo, or D.O.” Kyungsoo offers a meek smile to you.

He pauses to glance at the empty room.

“Am I early?”

“No, the other members are just late.” You laugh, and he joins in politely.

The meeting progresses smoothly once all the members arrive, and you retire to a coffee shop nearby afterwards in order to address some paperwork that has been rotting in your briefcase for the past few days.

Sighing, you chew on the back of your pen as you stretch your legs out. A bell rings above the doorframe, and you see a familiar face stroll in, approaching the counter.

After they order, you wave frantically.

“Kyungsoo!” You say rather loudly, garnering disapproving looks from people trying to work diligently. You cover your mouth in embarrassment, blushing furiously. Thankfully, Kyungsoo has  already heard you. He makes his way over to your table in the corner.

“Hi, Y/N. Doing some paperwork, I see.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles warmly at you.

“Yeah, I’m drowning in it. But that’s what I signed up for when I became a lawyer, I guess.” You shrug. “What are you doing here? Coffee run?”

“No, I have some scripts I’m supposed to read over and get back to my agent about. I’m always reading scripts so that I can find things I want to audition for.”

“Well, take a seat then.” You gesture to the chair in front of you. “You can keep me company.”

It is in this coffee shop that your friendship with Kyungsoo blossoms. He becomes a permanent fixture in your life, and you make it a requirement to meet up at least once a week to work alongside each other, schedule permitting.

His mellow personality is one you find to be rather soothing. He gives you small tokens of encouragement in the form of handwritten notes or baked goods as you work through your first court case.

After you win the settlement in the case, Kyungsoo is invited to come celebrate with you and your friends. He quickly familiarizes himself with them and becomes part of your core group, and you find yourself feeling ecstatic that the world of Do Kyungsoo has collided with those of Joy, Mark, and Wendy.

Before you know it, your second case is assigned to you in the second half of your first year working at the firm.

Your eyes scan the title page of the papers summarizing the case you were to be handling: TF Entertainment vs. BigHit Entertainment.

You’d never heard of TF Entertainment before, but BigHit was a company you definitely knew from somewhere. Perhaps you knew some of their acts.

As you read, you jot down notes on a notepad you have at hand.

BigHit Entertainment is being sued for duplication of TF Entertainment’s intellectual property.

A song’s melody has been tweaked slightly and used in BigHit group BTS’ latest lead single.

There is widespread controversy over the plagiarism accusation.

BTS is extremely popular, and it may be difficult to find impartial jury members because of this.

TF is a much smaller company in terms of sheer scale and name recognition.

At this last point, you feel elated. You had always wanted to represent smaller companies against more established companies like BigHit. Smiling, you recall Joy’s words of encouragement that one night after you came home crying over the sight of Yoongi at the basketball courts.


That’s why BigHit sounded so familiar to you. It was Yoongi’s company, the one he had signed his life away to and left you in the dust for.

Your ears were always perked up in search of his name in the media, but you hadn’t heard anything about a Min Yoongi, so you assume he had failed like you had predicted. A part of you wanted to tell him “I told you so.”

Sighing, you redirect your focus back to the case at hand. Sliding your cellphone open, you type out a message, confirming a meeting with TF’s songwriters to discuss the case.

The night is spent reading and rereading the case’s details, as you push yourself to overcome the drowsiness and prepare well.

In the morning, you crawl out of bed to get dressed and made up for the busy day ahead of you. First, you travel to the TF Entertainment headquarters, where you meet the songwriting team involved with the disputed song melody. The meeting goes by smoothly, and you take a short lunch break and regroup your notes and approach before calling the opposing lawyer to confirm your next meeting, with BigHit’s personnel.


“Hello. Is this Park Jinyoung?” You take a sip of your coffee, subconsciously sitting up straight although it’s only a phone call.

“Yes, this is he. Y/N, I presume?” Jinyoung, the defendant’s lawyer, responds politely, clearing his throat.

“Correct. I’m just calling to confirm that I’m coming in to meet with the BigHit team in an hour.”

“That sounds great, I’ll see you then. I look forward to meeting you.”

“You, too. Bye bye.”

You relax and enjoy your short break before you head to the bathroom to touch up on your appearance. As a lawyer, it was crucial that you maintained a sleek, professional appearance. Your hair had to be styled to perfection, not a strand out of place. Your makeup had to be meticulously applied, flawless, and natural, but not too natural where it looked like you had made no efforts. Your nails had to be well-manicured, and your attire seamlessly put together.

Smoothing your pencil skirt down, you adjust your blazer and reapply lipstick.

Deeming your appearance fit for the upcoming meeting, you grab your briefcase and step outside dot hail a taxi. Upon arriving at the BigHit building, you smooth your skirt down again and open the door confidently, shrugging your shoulders back and standing tall.

Your profession was all about power moves. You had grown accustomed to the competitive environment throughout your law internships and even more so with the first case. After all, you yourself were wearing red today in efforts to dominate and faze the opposition in even the smallest way possible.

You pretend to type furiously on your phone, making the receptionist wait before setting your cellphone down on the counter.

“Hello. Y/N here to see Lawyer Park Jinyoung, please.” You say offhandedly, making sure to lean forward so that you towered over the frail lady.

“Of course!” She scrambles out of her chair, extending an arm in the direction of the interior of the building. “Right this way, Ms. Y/L/N.”

The nervous woman guides you through a hallway until you’re in front of a large conference room. Along the way, your white heels tap loudly against the hardwood floors, and you cringe at the noise. It’s startling amidst the total silence provided by the undoubtedly sound-proofed walls of the studios.

Standing in front of the door, you tap your foot patiently, waiting for her to open the door for you. She pauses, unsure of what to do before grabbing the handle and opening the door, smiling shakily at you.

“Thank you.” You throw a tiny eye smile over your shoulder, strutting in to the empty room.

Perfect. You were the first one in. Although Jinyoung was undoubtedly making you wait in an attempt at a power play, you were glad he had done so. This gave you time to pick a strategic spot at the front of the room, sitting at the end of the long table. You spread your papers in front of you, scanning over your notes and going over your game plan in your head.

After five minutes or so, the door creaks open and you see who you assume to be songwriters trickling in. Closely following behind is the sole BTS member you recognize, Kim Taehyung, because you had seen Hwarang. But that was besides the point.

You remain seated, gazing lazily at them but making sure to looking squarely into each person’s eyes until they all enter the room.

As your eyes move over to acknowledge the last person, you freeze.

Standing there in all his grey-haired glory is none other than Min Yoongi.


a/n: okay so i totally wanted this to reach 8k words but it’s almost at 6k and i feel like this is a good stopping point, and i don’t want to add unnecessary bullshit to the chapter.

anyways, i HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS! i kept getting distracted while editing this bc i have the flu or something rn so i’ve been drowsy and gross in general haha. jinyoung is making yet another appearance HAHA but he’ll be more of a minor character in this. and i couldn’t help casting Jaebum as the vindictive ex hehe~

I Flat-Out Refuse To Marry Anyone Unless These Are Our Vows

“Marrying you is not the end of my liberty; it’s the beginning of it.

You’re the person I want to dive headfirst into life with. When I go out on the weekends, it is you I want shutting down the club with me. When I plan an adventure it is you I want holding the map. When I speculate about the future, I want to see you in every outlandish fantasy I plan for myself. You’re the person I want to rant excitedly to over happy hour drinks. You’re the person I want to dance around the house with in my underwear with. You’re the person who makes the whole world feel wide-open to me and I want to take advantage of that. I want to plunge into the future with you – because it looks bigger and brighter by your side than I ever could have imagined.

‘Something about you inspires me to be bigger, brighter, bolder than I ever knew that I could become. And I hope that I inspire you, too.’

I don’t want to settle down with you. I want to take off with you – to far-away countries, foreign landscapes, gems and corners of the world that would only have looked half as amazing without you by my side. When I strap on a backpack and head to the airport, I want you to be boarding that plane with me. You’re the person I want to get lost with, set up camp with, stumble through dark streets with at 5a.m. with after a long, rambunctious night in a city that we can’t pronounce the name of. When I get home and have tale after ridiculous tale to recite to my friends, you’re the one I want there to back up my claims. You’re the person I want to come home to and the person I want to escape with. I want you on every adventure I take for the rest of my life. I want to do everything on earth with you.

I don’t want to be the person you always agree with. I want to be the person you challenge – to change, to grow, to expand in ways that wouldn’t have ever occurred to me before I met you. I want heated debates at 3am. I want stark disagreements when I’m acting out of line. I want passionate arguments about the way we’re living because your fire fuels mine and I never want that spark to die out. I want to be someone you aren’t afraid to challenge because sometimes I need that extra push. And you can bet your ass that I’ll push you right back.

I don’t want to let myself go now that I have you – I want to build myself up alongside you. Something about you inspires me to be bigger, brighter, bolder than I ever knew that I could become. And I hope that I inspire you, too. That together we can encourage one another to grow into the fullest, strongest, fiercest versions of each other. That ten years from now we will be prouder than ever to be standing beside one another and that twenty years later we’ll be even prouder still. I hope you’re not expecting to grow stagnant in love because something about you makes me feel like my best self on steroids and I do not plan to let that feeling die.

If there’s anything I am not worried about, it’s us falling apart. The truth is I never fell in love with you anyway; I walked into love – surely, deliberately and without a backwards glance. I chose you from the first day I met you and baby I promise to keep choosing you. Through every fight, I’ll choose you. Through every temptation, I’ll choose you. Through every twist and bump in the road that threatens to tear us apart I will choose you with the ferocious certainty I’ve felt since the first time I ever laid eyes on you. I’m not worried about falling out of love with you baby, because I never fell in. Loving you was a waking, conscious choice and it’s one that I’m going to keep making until the day my heart stops beating.

Now let’s stop with these frivolous vows – there’s a party to have! We have gifts to tear open and champagne to chug and a whirlwind honeymoon to go embark on. This whole marriage thing is old and tired but we most certainly are not. After all, you’re only young and wild once. And baby, our wildest days are just beginning.”

- Heidi Priebe

“should i wear black or black?” sana asks sarcastically, holding up two different, very much black hijaabs.

eva snorts and gingerly crawls to the other end of her bed to place a kiss on sana’s lips.

“you know i would love some colour on you,” eva whispers, gently taking sana’s hand into hers.

sana’s eyes softens. “i know,” she says. then, a smirk takes place. “but i have a reputation.”

eva laughs, her head falling back, the red hair– though shorter from when they first met. “of course, the reputation of the coolest girl in school,” she bemoans. “no colour shall ever befall on thee.”

sana swats eva’s hand away. “"stop being so silly,” she says with a laugh.

“you know,” eva says, tilting her head to the side when sana picks the hijaab in her right hand. “our boys are going there sober.”

sana looks at eva. “you know i don’t judge you if you want to drink. i don’t want to be the one to… hold you back. you’re young only once.”

eva smiles. “yes, my wise girlfriend. i know. but i was thinking it’ll be fun to… you know, watch everyone else embarrass themselves.”

sana quirks en eyebrow. “i wouldn’t let you embarrass yourself.”

eva looks at her meaningfully.

“too much,” sana amends.

they laugh, and sana has never felt as alive as she is right now.

when they head to the pregame, sana’s prayer alarm goes off. she stiffens– a reflex forced upon her by society.

but eva is quick to take her arm, squeeze it gently in a way of comfort. she looks up, the atmosphere has changed but she finds comfort in eva, in even and isak and chris.

“do you have any problem?” eva bites out, glaring at one of the girls. someone less important.

the mood shifts, the girl stutters a weak “no” before they all fall back into talking about whatever they did before.

the tram stops, they find their way to the house, and eva helps her to the bathroom. she navigates them to a bathroom close to an empty bedroom, she tells people to move “the fuck out of their way” when sana is done, and she waits outside.

sana wonders, how did she get so lucky? to find someone who, doesn’t understand wholly, but accepts and wants to learn.

she feels safe, when she puts all the sound out and turns to Allah. she feels safe knowing that this moment– between her and Him– her girl is out there, guarding the door.

waiting for her.

(and when they come back, they find even and isak sitting on the couch and they literally shine up, and even gently asks, “you okay?”

and sana replies, “never been better.”)

Dear Teenagers,

What the fuck are you doing? How old are you..15 maybe 16? Did you ever think once of how you’re wasting your life away? Stop thinking about about the guy who broke your heart, he’s not worth it. Stop thinking about whether you look cool smoking weed or not, nobody cares. Stop sulking around and being depressed… you just need to be happy. You’re only young once and this is the time where you need to have fun and forget about everything that doesn’t make you happy. Fuck everyone who doesn’t make you happy! Go out and have fun, this could be your last day.

Theme Parks and Mayhem

    When you marry Bruce, you make a real effort to get to know his boys. After all, when you marry a man you marry his family. Somewhat surprisingly, it’s Damian you bond with the most. You attribute this to several things.

     Number one is the fact that he’s left behind during the week when it comes to patrols. Bruce had started that rule when he took in Dick, no patrols on school nights. There’s also the fact that you’re typically the one to pick him up from school. You use this time to talk about what interests him, and you attempt to steer him towards some of the arts; like music, and books. There is such a thing as balance, and to be fair you do this with the other men in your life as well.

     You also play chess together, or more accurately Damian taught you how to play. You still haven’t managed to win a game against him. Or Bruce. Or Tim. You have been able to snatch a game away from Dick. And you tend to just play checkers when it comes to Jason. He’s not a fan of chess.

      Anyways, it’s when Bruce and the older boys are gone on longer missions, that you tend to do something special with Damian. Typically, you’ll pull him out of school and go hiking, or a museum he wanted to visit where he’ll talk about art in a way you didn’t even realize was possible for an eleven-year-old.

      Other times you’ll both just wander around a bookstore, and leave with bags of books. When Bruce returns it’s either to find you both in the library trying to find a place to put them, or on the floor reading, in a pallet of blankets and snacks surrounded by your new towers of books.

          This time however, you decide to do something truly child worthy. You decide to go to a theme park. It’s a surprise when you announce he’s not going to schools today, just like it always is. You’ve made it a habit of surprising him with these trips. You simply tell him to change into something he can get dirty. He doesn’t even ask where you’re going, he simply goes to change.

          You take the convertible to the theme park. The weather has recently warmed up, as the end of the school year approaches, and you ride with the top down the entire way. On the way you tell Damian about the times you’d take your Jeep out, completely open and simply ride around the back roads of the small town you grew up in. Sometimes your friends would join you, sometimes you’d go by yourself, crank the radio, and sing along with whatever comes on he.

          He says something about it being childish, all while smiling. You tell him that was the entire point. Though he tries to hide it, you can tell he’s a bit surprised when you pull into the parking lot. YOU’RE a bit surprised when he simply hops out of the car without arguing.

          You spend the first little bit just walking around and getting the lay of the land, until something catches Damian’s eye. It’s a roller coaster, and suddenly you remember why you don’t usually come to amusement parks; you hate roller coasters. None the less, you’re a mom now, and that means riding the Griffin with your son. You wait in line for forty minutes before you get in.  As you’re strapped in, your hands begin to sweat, but you still don’t say anything.

          Then you’re moving, slow at first, and you reach the top of the first drop, and you’re simply thrilled that Damian didn’t insist on sitting the front row. You’re fairly certain that would have killed you, cause you’re now remembering your fear of heights. For a moment you think of your danger loving, villain defeating husband and wonder what you two have in common cause, deep down you’re a chicken. Several books and plays flash through your mind and reassure you about your marriage, and then those thoughts are gone, because you’re falling. Your stomach flops and it feels like it’s going into your throat, and you can’t help it, your voice joins the chorus of screams surrounding you.

          You’ve completely forgotten about Damian, until his smaller hand reaches out and grabs your larger one. It doesn’t stop your screams, but it reassures you, because in the back of your mind you know Damian has about forty different contingency plans, ready to go if something happens.

          The ride is done in less than a minute, and when you get off, Damian is somewhat helping support, because your knees are a bit wobbly. He leaves you sitting on a bench, with your head between your knees for a few minutes, before returning with one of those souvenir pictures from the ride.

          He’s smirking a bit when he shows you the picture. Your eyes are wide and terrified, you mouth is open in a scream, your hair is whipping around everywhere. And then there’s Damian. He sitting next to you, his hand in yours, full out laughing at you.

          “You don’t like roller coasters do you?” He asks.

          “Down right terrified,” you confirm.

          He nods for a moment before saying something that makes your stomach sink from your throat back to it’s original spot. “We’ll conquer that fear today.” You go on every roller coaster in the park, some of them twice. Damian buys the souvenir photo every time.

     He takes mercy on you near the end of the day and turns to the games. He wins several very large animals including an elephant. You raise an eyebrow at that particular choice and he explains, “For Grayson. They’re his favorite, and he tends to squeal like a delighted child whenever he receives one. I’m hoping to film it this time.” The reason makes you smile, but you don’t believe him. You know he chose it simply because his brother would like it.

    You make sure to gorge yourselves on theme park food before leaving, knowing you’ve most likely spoiled whatever delicious and nutritious dinner Alfred has made, but you’re only young once.

     You load up the back seat with animals and drive home. Damian falls asleep to the sound and feel of wind blowing in his face. When you get home you’re a bit surprised to find more lights on then usual, and when you pull into the garage you find a very nice surprise waiting for you.

     Bruce, and the other boys are standing there glaring. When you raise an eyebrow in question, they make exclamations of unfair bonding trips without them. You promise a family trip to the park at a later date. 

     It’s at this point that Damian awakens, and hops out of the car. He quickly hands the large elephant to Dick, who smiles like a loon, before holding up a bag you know is filled with the roller coaster pictures. “Who wants to see mom screaming her head off?” he calls out as he walks into the house. The rest of the boy’s clamor after him, all slights forgotten at the chance to see some embarrassing photos of you.

      Bruce opens his arms with a smile on his face and you walk into them. “Rough day?” he asks kissing the side of your head?”

     “Your son has a thing for conquering fears. I think he gets it from his father.”

     Bruce holds you a little tighter and says, “He did a better job with you then I did. One tear from you about how you hated roller coasters and I let you off the hook.”

      You bury yourself a little deeper into his embrace, if that possible and say, “Moms will endure a lot for their kids.”

Time Changes Everything

This is for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash Ash’s Round 3 Negan Challenge. My prompt was The Ugly Duckling. Once again, thank you Ash, for letting me join!

Please give me feedback on this, it’s very different than any other thing I’ve written. 😘

Negan X ?

1200 words

No warnings just a bit of angst with a happy ending

Tagging ~ @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @negans-network

 They were inseparable. Well as much as two 5 year olds in a world controlled by adults could be. Wherever he went, she followed. And vice versa. She loved to swim, so he overcame his fear of water to be with her. She hated loud noises, so he held her hand as they watched the fireworks.

 And so it was, for many years. They were always together, in school, their parents making sure they were always in the same classroom. At their homes, taking turns playing in each other’s room or yard. Of course, being next door neighbors made that easy.

  But one day, it all changed. A day she would never forget. The day her best friend, her soulmate as she would call him, broke her heart in a million pieces.

 “She’s ugly dude! Why do you wanna hang around her? What with those nerd glasses, frizzy hair and beyond dorky attitude! Damn man, no hot chick is goin’ look your way when she’s hanging around you!”

 She heard her Negan, the boy she swore to love forever, respond. But she couldn’t believe his words.

 “But dude! I’ve known her forever, she’s like my sister!”

 Sister, that stung.

 “No hot girl is gonna think I’m with her, I mean, look at me and look at her!”

 But that burned.

 He laughed, his friends joining in. She never thought it was possible for a whole life to be destroyed in just a few minutes. But she found out it can be.

 After running home, her mother’s sweet words of comfort, and a nice warm bath, she decided to move on, grow from the pain as her dear mother said. But the loss, the pure ache would never disappear.

 She ignored Negan whenever he would talk to her, acting as if she hadn’t a clue about his mean and hurtful ways. She moved on. And so did Negan.

 Soon it was graduation, she was beyond excited! She had gotten into the best teaching school on the east coast. As she was placing her graduation cap carefully on her beautiful curly locks, her mother stepped into the bathroom.

 “I think it’s time to bury the hatchet and congratulate Negan on graduating. His mother has said that it was a very trying year for him. Very touch and go on whether he would even get here.”

  She wanted to say, it’s his own damn fault, mother, what with the wild partying, getting kicked off the baseball team and an unwanted pregnancy scare, it’s no wonder.

 But she kept her mouth shut and nodded her head ‘yes.’ Hugging her mother tightly, she thanked her for all she had done, especially for the words she had shared on one sad afternoon.

 After the ceremony, she made her way to him, hesitant, still so gun-shy from years ago.

 “Congratulations Negan, you did it!” She held her hand out to him, but he quickly surprised her when he pulled her into a hug. Oh how she missed him. So terribly.

 “Congrats to you too, doll! But everyone knew you could do it, but you know, fuck up that I am I guess it’s a big fucking deal I’m wearing the cap and fucking gown!” And then he laughed, that beautiful laugh that hardly changed over the years, the one she truly missed.

 Negan took in a deep breath as he pulled back and looked at her. She was breathtaking, just so beautiful, what happened to that little awkward girl with glasses and fly away hair that loved books as much as eating and didn’t look in anyone’s eyes? This exquisite thing standing in front of him was not at all that doll he swore he would marry one day. And he had left her behind, when he decided he was too fucking cool. And she moved on, without him. The ugly duckling became a beautiful swan.

 Time moves on, and soon it was autumn, her favorite season. The falling leaves, the crisp dry air and her most favorite part, back to school. She had packed her tiny VW with everything she would need in her dorm room, including quite a few boxes of books. She waved goodbye to her parents, deciding it would be too hard to say goodbye on the campus, asking them to stay home.

 When she reached the campus, she stopped her car to take it all in. She was here, her dream of becoming a teacher coming true. She was was jolted out of her daydream by a honking horn and yelling.

 “Get a fucking move on, this is a road, not a shittin’ parking lot!”

 She would recognize that voice anywhere, Negan.

 Pulling over into a parking spot by her dorm, she got out, watching as Negan pulled into the spot next to her.

 “Doll? Well, what the fuck?! You’re an incoming student here too?” His arms spread out in a welcoming fashion.

 “Too?” She had to admit that she was honestly surprised at this.

 “I fucking am!”

 They started talking about their plans, both of them wanting to teach, Negan in sports, her in English.

 “Need some help with your boxes?”

 “Yes, please, that would be great. Then maybe I can help you?”

 “No need doll. I’ve been here a week already, I’m fucking set.”

 As they carried her things inside the elevator , she told him which floor, causing Negan to laugh.

 “Same floor as me doll! Go fucking figure, next door neighbors again!”

 Fall turned to winter, which soon became spring. They were nearing the end of their first year of college, and a reunited friendship.

 “Can’t spend all your fucking time studying doll! Gotta have some fun, you’re only young once!”

 “But Negan, we also need to graduate, get a job.”

So they spent all of their free time together, studying, at the library, her choices. At a party, at a game, his choices. They complimented each other, his playful fun side, her serious mature side. You might say they were made for each other. Soulmates.

 And once again, time moved on, as it does, and 4 years came and went.

  “I’ve got an interview Negan, at our old school. Come with me for support?”

 “Fuck doll, I promised Jim I’d go to the Rusty Lantern to watch the game.”

Rising up on her tiptoes, she gave his cheek a small peck, knowing how her sweetness always turned him to mush. “Please Negan!”

 He smiled, taking her hand and leading her to his car. The game and Jim can wait. His girl would always come first.

 As they stepped into their old school, something caught her eye.

 “Negan, look! They’re looking for a gym teacher! It’s perfect!!!”

 That day saw the couple both having interviews.

 “I think they liked me Negan! And I’m sure you’re a shoe-in, everybody loves you!” She cooed as she cuddled into his side.

 “From your mouth to God’s ears doll!” He leaned down and gently kissed her head.


 “Negan, hurry! We can’t be late!”

 “I’m coming doll, I just couldn’t find my fucking shoe!”

 As they stepped into the entrance to their high school, her as the new 9th grade Language Arts teacher,  him as the boys new phys ed coach, they smiled.

 “Ready doll?”

 “Ready Negan!”

 On her toes, she kissed him, this time on his lips, and as his wife.

 “Love you!”

 “Love you back!”

 And he watched her walk down the hall, he couldn’t believe his luck. He had won back his best friend, his true love, his soulmate.

His Lucille.

● —— stand by me sentence starters.

’ alright, mickey’s a mouse, donald’s a duck, pluto’s a dog. what’s goofy? ’
’ goofy’s a dog. he’s definitely a dog. ’
’ if i could only have one food for the rest of my life? ’
’ there’s no way anybody could know that much about opera! ’
’ does the word “retarded” mean anything to you? ’
’ i don’t shut up. i grow up. and when i look at you, i throw up. ’
’ don’t call me any of your mother’s pet names. ’
’ fuck writing, i don’t want to be a writer. ’
’ god gave you something, man, all those stories you can make up. ’
’ kids lose everything unless there’s someone there to look out for them. ’
’ this is what we got for ya, kid. try not to lose it. ’
’ if your parents are too fucked up to do it, then maybe i should. ’
’ i’m in the prime of my youth, and i’ll only be young once! ’
’ yeah, but you’re gonna be stupid for the rest of your life. ’
’ how do you know if a frenchman has been in your backyard? ’
’ your garbage cans are empty and your dog’s pregnant. ’
’ didn’t i just say i was french? ’
’ do you think i’m weird? ’
’ no man, seriously. am i weird? ’
’ so what? everyone’s weird. ’
’ suck my fat one, you cheap dime store hood. ’
’ this isn’t funny! what am i supposed to eat? ’
’ come on you guys. let’s get moving. ’
’ by the time we get there, the kid won’t even be dead anymore. ’
’ you four-eyed pile of shit! ’
’ a pile of shit has a thousand eyes. ’
’ do you think mighty mouse could beat up superman? ’
’ he/she was carrying five elephants in one hand! ’
’ boy, you don’t know nothing! ’
’ there’s no way a cartoon could beat up a real guy. ’
’ maybe you’re right. it’d be a good fight, though. ’
’ i’m never gonna get out of this town am i? ’
’ you can do anything you want, man. ’
’ the main guy of the story is a fat kid that nobody likes. ’
’ friends come in and out of our lives, like busboys in a restaurant. ’
’ come on, choppy! bite my ass, choppy! bite my ass! ’
’ stop teasing that dog, you hear me! stop teasing him! ’
’ i’m gonna beat your ass, teasing my dog like that! ’
’ i’d like to see you climb over this fence and get me, fat ass! ’
’ don’t you call me that, you little tin weasel peckerwood looney’s son. ’
’ what did you call me? ’
’ i’m gonna rip your head off and shit down your neck! ’
’ i never had any friends later on like the ones i had when I was twelve. ’
’ nothing like a smoke after a meal. ’
’ yeah… i cherish these moments. ’
’ “suck my fat one”? whoever told you that you had a fat one? ’
’ i was twelve going on thirteen the first time i saw a dead human being. ’
’ what are you gonna do? shoot us all? ’
’ you guys wanna go see a dead body? ’
’ you wanna be the lone ranger, or the cisco kid? ’
’ shit no! what do you think i am? ’
’ is it loaded? ’
’ if you wanna get laid, you gotta get yourself a protestant. ’
’ did your mother have any kids that lived? ’
’ maybe you will, maybe you won’t. ’
’ i wasn’t that scared. i wasn’t. sincerely. ’
’ don’t pay any attention to those fools. ’
’ are you all right, young man/lady? ’
’ hey lardass, how was your trip? ’
’ that was the all-time train dodge! ’
’ you were so scared you looked like that fat guy. ’
’ you come on and try it, you slimy bastard. ’
’ you watch your mouth, smart guy! let him do his own fighting. ’
’ from the racks and stacks, it’s the best on wax! ’
’ we’re just here to take a couple steelhead out of the river. ’
’ come on, man, we’re gonna be famous! ’
’ we’re gonna be on every radio and tv show in the country! ’
’ now i’m gonna state mine: get in the fucking car, now! ’
’ okay… you’ve stated your position clearly. ’
’ when they gonna give up? the kid’s gone. ’
’ they ain’t never gonna find him/her. ’
’ would you hold still? you’re making me fuck up the snake part. ’
’ some hunter’s gonna go in the woods to take a leak, wind up pissing on his bones. ’
’ i bet you a thousand bucks they’ll find him/her before then. ’
’ hey, what’s the big deal? who cares? ’
’ will you two just shut the fuck up? ’
’ if either of you assholes had two-thousand dollars, i’d kill you both. ’
’ why couldn’t you have gotten breakfast stuff? ’
’ i guess a more experienced shopper could have gotten more for your seven cents. ’
’ the train had knocked him/her out of his/her keds. ’
’ you’re gonna be a great writer someday. ’
’ i’ll be waiting on the other side, relaxing with my thoughts. ’
’ you use your left hand or right hand to do that? ’
’ you let him/her beat you, you cock-knocker! ’
’ what am i supposed to do, think of everything? ’
’ what did you bring a comb for? you don’t even have any hair! ’
’ i’m sorry if i’m spoiling everybody’s good time. ’
’ we’re going to see a dead kid… maybe it shouldn’t be a party. ’
’ you know what that means. next year we’ll all be split up. ’
’ what are you talking about? why would that happen? ’
’ no, man. don’t say that. don’t even think that. ’
’ i told you we should of stuck to the tracks. ’
’ is it me, or are you the world’s biggest pussy? ’
’ i suppose this is fun for you? ’
’ i still think we should call the cops. ’
’ it’s best we just keep our mouths shut. ’
’ we could make a ‘nonymous call. ’
’ they trace those calls, stupid. ’
’ you’re a real asshole, you know that? ’
’ i know you didn’t mean to insult my friend. ’
’ why don’t you tell me something i don’t know, asshole? ’
’ any of you guys know when the next train is due? ’
’ the kid wasn’t sick. the kid wasn’t sleeping. the kid was dead. ’