#''All it takes some days is five seconds of a certain song being played in public that has him brought back to a time-

[candiliam328]

ok so ive harped enough about when folks get dance things wrong. but then you read a fic that gets dance things a little too right and its just.

[thisismeracing]

Charlieverse | CL16

― Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader ― Word count: 2.1k ― Warnings: mentions of alcohol and Halloween costumes (clowns, werewolves, and others).  ― Summary: When Yn decided to go to a Halloween party with her best friend, Charles Leclerc, she did not consider that some of the fantasies would be so close to reality that they would terrify her. But one thing Yn had no idea about too, was Charles’ feelings for her. All Hallow’s Eve is not the most romantic scenario to confess your feelings, but it might be just the perfect one for them.

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There are many sayings about how sharing is caring, and how life feels bigger and better when you do so.

Charles knew this all too well.

He was used to sharing everything with you since he was a kid.

It all started after you forgot your snack at home. He was only five years old then, but he had two brothers so he knew exactly what to do. Little Charles offered to share his bag of colored goldfish and grapes with you. The next day you shared your coloring pencils with him. It started with simple things, and it grew as you both grew older. All through the school years, Charles and you were inseparable, even with his crazy racing schedule. You would take notes for him, he would bring you stories, and you would study together until late hours. You shared your fears, deepest feelings, and even the shame of being underdressed when invited to a party such as now.

“I had no idea people would go this hard,” you state, watching as the Taxi driver came to a halt in front of the big doors. Gathered in front of the mansion were people dressed as all kinds of gore Halloween beings, some of the makeup seeming too real to your liking.

“We can go back home and change if you want,” there’s Charles' tranquil voice. He is always the one to keep his patience even if the world is ending, and you love that about him.

You shake your head, “We would never find something else in time, plus, we’re together, so… here’s to another good story,” you point to your matching costumes, and Charles smiles.

You’re both wearing Spiderman costumes. Though it felt like the best choice, the easiest one, you should have guessed it was too easy and, therefore, not ideal.

Charles gives you one last wink before putting on his mask. You do the same just as he opens the door for you, and hand in hand you walk through the crowd into the house. You cling to your best friend’s arm trying to stay as far away as possible from some of the costumes.

“You sure you’re ok over there?” Charles asks when you’re halfway to the kitchen, and you tighten your grip on his hand.

You nod, “Yeah, just.. That werewolf costume seems too realistic.” And there’s no need for you to explain to him. He knows you like he knows the back of his hand, his favorite track, his most played song. Charles knows that someone planted a seed of fear about some creatures when you were little, and some of the stories have stayed with you even after you grew. It is a bit curious how despite your fears, you still love Halloween, at least the kind of parties you go to where people will dress in a way that clearly shows that they are human beings and meant no harm.

Were you supposed to guess that a certain crazy clown costume was a mere costume after seeing people being killed by those?

You wouldn’t stay to answer that question.

When you finally reach the kitchen, both of you take off the mask to your friends, hugging and making your rounds. Charles grabs you two a drink and you choose to stay there instead of mingling and risking bumping into scary figures.

“Can you get me another of these?” You mouth to Charles pointing at your empty cup. From across the kitchen, he nods, and a few seconds later he’s in front of you with a full cup.

“They were out of ice, is it ok if we share this one?” he asks over the music and you nod. You’re sitting on the counter, and when Charles turns to your friends he stands right between your legs. One of your hands goes to his shoulders, and you keep talking about your costume as if your heart weren’t hammering inside your ribcage, almost coming out from your throat the second his hand finds your knee, holding it so your anxious bounce can cease.

You gulp trying to keep your attention on whatever your friend is talking about because all your mind can focus on is your best friend’s hand on you, his body radiating warmth into yours. And not that it is unusual for Charles to touch it, quite the opposite, he loves to hug and kiss those he cares about, but it’s just lately your heart seemed to wish for a different kind of sharing.

It wants to share the secret touches. It wants to claim hungry kisses, tears of happiness, loud silences, and whispered mysteries. It is as if your heart created a reality where you had all of this with Charles.

Your own Charlie-verse.

The party keeps going in full swing, and Charles never leaves your side for over thirty minutes. He comes and goes always checking if you’re ok and if you want to go with him, but you choose the safety of the counter and your crowd of friends. The conversation is good, and so is the booze, from the kitchen you can see a bit of the living room and the pool area through the glass doors.

And it’s only when part of the girls decide to go dancing that you hop off the counter, and grab Charles’ hands following him in the direction of another crowd of friends. You’re tipsy enough to lace your fingers with his and to tighten your grip when you pass people dressed as clowns, werewolves, and with fake open wounds.

You end up in the pool area in front of Charles, he holds your body protectively against his, while his other hand has a cup you’re still sharing. The conversation is between the group, but every once in a while something will catch his attention and he’ll whisper about it in your ear, to which you’ll slightly turn your head, chuckle, and then answer him.

Though you felt a bit out of place at first with how everyone’s costumes seemed so extra compared to yours, you and Charles have had a lot of fun. So much so that you have given up going back home and decided to share a cab to his apartment.

Half of the ride a tipsy Charles is lecturing you with his “I told you so” about how he suggested you slept at his place and you denied it before the party. You just rest your head on his shoulder and pretend you are listening to his non-stop rant.

As it happens, the driver seems a bit uninterested in Charles’ rant because he turns the music on, and the last song that starts playing when he makes the curve into Charles’ street is Michael Jackson. You shriek and start jumping on the car seat.

“Chérie, it’s late,” your best friend tries to reason, but you just giggle.

“You have soundproof walls.”

“But not windows,” he tries again, and you playfully roll your eyes before getting out of the car wishing the driver a good night.

“Annie, are you okay?” you start to sing as you reach the elevators, and Charles just fakes a sigh, holding you close by the waist.

“So, Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?” you sing loudly until you reach the penthouse.

“Love, that’s not Smooth Criminal’s dance, that’s Thriller…” Charles holds back his laughter when you start a made-up choreography in his living room. “Oh mon dieu, you’re so precious.”

You giggle, smacking a loud kiss on his warm cheeks. While you make your track to the bathroom Charles goes to the kitchen.

“I’m using the guest bathroom! Go shower on the main one, you stinky!” you scream from the corridors and you hear his scoff, almost able to picture his eye roll.

You go through your shower on autopilot, brushing your teeth, and reaching for one of Charles’ shirts that are on the guest bedroom bed. Your visits have been so frequent you have everything you need there, but tonight you didn’t want one of your pajamas, you want to indulge in the daydream that your mind is harnessing.

When you reach your favorite Monegasque bedroom you can hear the shower still running, so you settle in the middle of his bed, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere in your head, there’s still music playing and your body seems to have kept a bit of the buzzing from the party. The distant noises coming from the open windows, along with the wind hitting the curtains lull you into a soft slumber, that only goes away when a door closes, you guess it's his closet, you smell his body wash and shampoo before he steps close to you.

There’s too much happening inside your head, so you choose to stay in silence while your best friend watches you attentively, eyes finding yours in a beat.

Charles, on the other hand, doesn’t have much in his head. He only has you. Your smell, your laugh, your voice, your body on his bed wearing his shirt.

“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” his mouth works faster than his brain does, and just like that you’re staring at him in confusion.

It’s like his brain is shortcircuited.

Charles gets up from the bed.

He walks to the door, then turns around and comes back to your side. There’s a crease between his brows and you have known him long enough to identify it as worry.

“Sharls, what’s going on?”

“I’m not drunk ok? Before you say anything, I’m not drunk, I’m just tipsy like you,” he starts and you nod from your spot on the bed. “I am so sorry, but I have to tell you this, and I’ll completely understand if you don’t feel the same, but I have to take this out of my chest, Yn.”

Sensing how serious the situation is you sit up, legs crossed one over the other, hands tucked under them.

“I- uhm… See- It’s like this, I-”

“Charles,” you call.

“I’m in love with you,” he spills in a single sentence, but then he keeps going. “I love you so fucking much it’s starting to hurt the fact that I’ve been keeping it from you. And I don’t even know when it started, but I’m so used to sharing everything with you, I just.. I wanted us to share more. I wanted to share my bed with you, and my clothes, and-” he points with his fingers before you could say something, “And I know we already share those things, but I want to do it differently. I want to share romantically. I want to share my heart with you, Chérie, all of it. But I’ll understand if you’re confused or overwhelmed by my outburst, in fact… shit… I should have waited in case you wanted to go home right? Please, tell me that if you don’t feel the same you’ll at least get the farthest guest bedroom, I promise I won’t bother you, we’ll pretend it didn’t happen in the morning and I-”

“No,” you interrupt.

“Pardon?”

“I said no, I won’t sleep in the farthest guest bedroom.”

“Oh- then let me drive you, just…– fuck I can’t I drank… uhm I’ll–”

“No, Charles, stop,” you get on your knees on the mattress and reach for his arm, bringing his body close to yours.

“No, I’m not sleeping in the guest bedroom because we’re sharing a bed tonight. No, I’m not mad about your admission, I’m sharing my heart with you too. Romantically,” you confess.

His shoulders drop in relief, and you giggle, threading your fingers on his soft strands. Charles mutters something you can’t understand because you’re too focused on how his face seems different from this angle, after all the confessed words. He’s still your Charles, but he’s also a new Charles, and this knowledge brings a new feeling to your heart and stomach.

When his lips find yours, soft and warm, a contrast with his cold hands on your jaw and waist, he presses your bodies closer and hums in pleasure. You smile, unable to contain your happiness. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, and when the air has made itself scarce, you part the kiss, foreheads still touching.

“So, Charlie, are you okay? Are you okay, Charlie?”

Charles throws his head back and laughs.

He knows how insufferable you could get once a song gets stuck in your head.

“I was struck down. You’re such a smooth criminal, Chérie. Stealing hearts around so easily.”

It is your turn to laugh.

“That was cheesy, but I loved it,” you mumble before pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I love you.”

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, lovelies! I hope you liked the piece, I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Delia (@struggling-with-delia on Tumblr) for proof and beta-reading this <3.  Let me know your thoughts on this piece *mwah*.  

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[daisynik7]

“Into you” by Fabolous for Connie Springer- smut + fluff

(S4 connie ofc)

Into You

I think you’re truly something special, just what my dreams are really made of

Pairing: Connie Springer x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.4k

cw: super fluffy, kinda cheesy, college au, modern day au, lots of basketball terms (applies specifically to NCAA and NBA), explicit language, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), implied creampie

Summary: You and Connie Springer have been close since childhood, growing up as next-door neighbors and best friends. The bond the two of you share is undeniable, but you’ve never been able to admit how deep your feelings are, either to yourself or to him. You continue to support him as his friend while he pursues his career as a basketball player, trying to get drafted into the NBA. Though the journey has its ups and downs, one thing is for certain: The two of you will always have each other, forever and ever. 

Author’s Notes: Hi anon! Thanks so much for requesting this song for the y2k karaoke party because it’s one of my FAVORITES! It really gives me Love & Basketball vibes, another favorite of mine that also happens to be a classic in the y2k era. This little fic is very loosely based off of that, so I hope you enjoy! Also, all the basketball/NBA tidbits are mostly from being with my boyfriend, who is a huge NBA fan, so yeah, sorry if any details are inaccurate lol. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! MDNI banner credit to @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest (Slam Dunk manga).

“You have to pinky promise, okay?” Connie sticks his tiny finger out, wiggling it in front of your face, sucking on his cherry-flavored lollipop, lips and tongue-stained red. You’re both five years old, sitting cross-legged in the front of his yard, taking a break from playing hide-and-seek.

“What am I pinky promising?” you ask, voice squeaky and curious.

“That we’ll be best friends forever and ever! No matter what!” he exclaims, beaming at you with his eyes wide, twinkling earnestly. 

You only need to think for a few seconds before you’re hooking your pinky with his, committing to this promise for the rest of your lives. 

~~~

Ten years later, Connie makes it on the varsity basketball team in your high school. It’s rare for a freshman to make it to varsity at Ragako; the coaches must have seen that spark in him that you and his family have witnessed since he started playing at ten-years-old. You used to shoot around with him out in his driveway, where his father set up a little hoop. Eventually, the little one got upgraded to a real one, where the height was adjusted appropriately as Connie grew. You became his practice partner, no longer able to compete with him. Instead, you passed him the ball, watching in awe as he made shot after shot, sometimes deep from the street. He’d pick you up and spin you around, the two of you cheering together, impressed by his skills.

Year after year, he only improved. The way he handled the ball, expertly dribbling it between his legs, behind his back, one-handed, without looking. Or the way his feet gracefully shuffled along the court, the distinct squeak from his shoes echoing off the walls as you watch him on the bleachers, playing three-on-three against some of his buddies at the gym. One time, his friend Jean teases you. “You know, you should stop hanging around here or else people might think you’re his groupie.”

Before you can think of a smart comeback, Connie interjects, shoving Jean hard in the arm. “Hey! Leave her alone. I want her here. I only play like this when she’s around. And she’s not a groupie. She’s my best friend.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the exit while Jean sputters apologies that go ignored. “Sorry about that,” he whispers to you. “Jean is an asshole. I want you around, got it? Forever and ever.”

You smile, leaning into him. “Forever and ever.”

~~~

It’s at the championship game during senior year that you realize that you’re in love with Connie.

Scouts have already contacted him about full-ride scholarships to university, recruiting him for their team. He’s the most celebrated point-guard in your school’s history, his average points and assists per game breaking records. Ever since he joined, your school has made it in the final round each year, last year resulting in a win, this year leading to a second. 

With seconds left on the shot clock, tie game, Ragako with possession, Connie makes his move. He inbounds the ball to his teammate, quickly taking position at the right wing, his sweet spot. As quickly as it leaves his hands, the ball is passed back to him. He shoots it, and as it flies out from his fingers into the air, the buzzer rings, and he makes it. The crowd goes wild; one side of the bleachers erupting into a frenzy, jumping up and down with excitement. Connie’s parents hug each other first, then surround you in their arms, elated. You don’t expect him to celebrate the win with you, not with his entire team huddling around him, splashing water on his head, cheering his name. Not with all the cheerleaders and fans gravitating toward him, eager to be in the presence of a sure-to-be star in the making. So, it surprises you when you see him maneuver his way through the crowd, heading straight towards you. He pounces on you, giving you the biggest, sweatiest hug with tears streaming down his face. It’s a split second where the surrounding noise goes blank and it’s just the two of you there, basking in each other’s warmth. Soon, his parents join you, also crying happily, and it’s in this moment that you realize this is where you want to be: with him. Forever and ever.

~~~

It's no surprise that the two of you attend the same college together. Most people will see it as you following him, but in actuality, Connie agrees to go wherever you go. Lucky for you both, your top choice is a D1 university where he’s offered a scholarship to play for their basketball team. It works out perfectly, as if it were meant to be. 

He’s busy from the get-go, practicing every day until the season starts in November. You become preoccupied with classes, and naturally, the two of you travel your different paths, meeting in the middle whenever you can. When the season official starts, you attend all his home games, cheering for him from the sidelines surrounded by the other students also chanting his name. Weeknights, he’s often too tired to hang out, retreating to his dorm room to fall asleep, only to repeat his busy schedule again the next day. He grows close with his teammates, spending most of his time with them instead of you, which is to be expected. After all, you and Connie are just friends. Sure, you’re completely and madly in love with him, but he’ll never know that. So, you watch from afar as he pursues his career without you in the way. It’s the way it has to be. 

By the time spring semester rolls around, you and Connie barely see each other. You’ll still text, sometimes video chat or talk on the phone. He mostly vents to you about teammates or coaches that have gotten on his nerves that day. He’ll catch you up on the other schools they’ve defeated or the ones that they’ve lost to. Your school’s record is quite good thanks to Connie, who’s only gotten better since high school. If they continue at this rate, they will win the conference tournament, meaning a trip to March Madness, the most prestigious competition in college basketball. Most importantly, it’s one step closer to the NBA.

As expected, the team does win the conference tournament. That night, the entire campus is lively with students buzzing in school spirit, ready to party the rest of the weekend. All you think about is calling Connie to congratulate him, hear his voice and tell him that you’re so proud of him. You debate with yourself for nearly fifteen minutes, staring at his name on your screen, fingers so close to dialing his number. You decide not to go through with it, certain that he’s too busy with his team, too busy with his fans. He’s not thinking about you, not when his whole world is about to change. And you can’t blame him; you’re just friends, and this is the way it has to be.

The following night, your school organizes an impromptu homecoming for the basketball team, welcoming them as they arrive on the bus, fresh from their championship win. They have a  couple days of rest before they leave for the NCAA tournament, but you’re sure they’ll be busy with press and practice until then. You’re not there to greet them when they step off the bus; instead, you’re sulking in your room, buried under the covers, feeling sorry for yourself for ever falling in love with Connie Springer. It’s a sad, pathetic sight, but at least you’re alone for the weekend to do it while your roommate is out visiting her boyfriend out of town. 

You’re surprised to see Connie’s name flash on your phone a few hours later. You let it ring twice before answering. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” he asks. There’s shuffling in the background, as if he’s walking outside. 

“I’m in my room.”

“I’m coming over now.” He hangs up, not giving you any time to respond. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

When you open the door to let him in, he wraps his arms around you in a snug embrace. “I missed you.” He pulls off to hold you by the arms, glaring. “Why didn’t you greet me off the bus?”

“I…” you start, unsure how to respond. 

“I was looking for you and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

“I was studying in the library.” This might be the first time you’ve ever lied to him. You feel guilty and gross. 

“Oh,” he says sadly, still staring at you. 

“Congratulations, by the way. It was an amazing win.” You give him a weak smile, blinking away the tears welling in your eyes. You don’t even know why you’re crying; Connie did nothing wrong. You’re letting your emotions get the best of you, and you can’t help but crumble in front of the only person who knows you better than you know yourself. 

“I don’t care about that right now. I care about you. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Connie, I promise.”

“Don’t promise me shit like that. I know you’re upset. Tell me. Please.” His eyes search yours, desperate for an answer. 

You look at his feet, fixating on his shoes, scuffed on the sides from playing. Tears start to drop from your face and on the carpet. “I just…I missed you too. I miss you, Connie. I…I love you.” The confession slips from your mouth in a sniffle, and you’re so upset with yourself for letting it slide in this crucial moment. Neither of you needs the drama of your unrequited love right now. Not you, knowing he’ll be leaving again soon, and especially not him, who has bigger and better things to focus on. 

He gapes at you, stuttering, “You love me?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“Like, love love? Or love like a friend?”

You’re tempted to lie, just to make it easier. But you owe it to Connie to be honest with him. “Love love.”

His mouth is open, eyes bugging out, completely shocked by your admission. Before he can respond, you add, “I’m sorry, Connie. I shouldn’t have told you this right before the tournament, but…I don’t know. It just came out. I’m sorry.”

He stammers, “You’re sorry? This is the best fucking thing I’ve heard in my entire life.” He breaks into a smile, laughing hysterically, an even more bizarre reaction. 

You cross your arms, getting impatient with his ridiculous behavior, eventually grabbing his shoulders to shake him out of his fit. “Connie, what the hell?!”

He wipes his eyes, crying from giggling, beaming at you. “I’ve been in love with since we were kids. Been dreaming of hearing you say that since we were five-years-old.” He hugs you tightly, nuzzling his nose to the top of your head. “I love you and I want to be with you. Forever and ever, right?”

You nestle into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent you missed since he’s been gone. “Forever and ever.” 

~~~

The two of you spend the night together, making love for the first time. His lips are soft against yours, and you smile into his kiss, remembering the day you pinky promised that you’ll be best friends forever and ever, no matter what. His lips were stained red with cherry-flavored candy, looking sickly sweet as he smiled at you. And as you kiss him now, he tastes just as sweet as you imagined he’d be after all these years. 

You kiss him sloppy as you ride his lap, his cock buried deep in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He moans your name into your mouth as he laps at the saliva collecting on your tongue, slurping your spit, swallowing it thickly. “Fuck,” he groans, hands gripped to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thighs. “I’ve dreamed about this for so long, baby. So long.”

“Me too,” you whisper, starting to bounce on him, close to your climax. 

“What would you think about? Tell me,” he demands, thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing it raw.

You whine from his touch, increasing your pace, resting your head on his shoulder. “You and me, just like this,” you huff, short of breath. 

“Yeah? You thought about me deep inside you, huh? Fucking this sweet pussy until you come all over my cock, huh?” He thrusts up into you, grip tightening, fingers digging into your flesh. He’s close too, you can feel it.

You moan into his skin, sweat beading on your forehead, throwing your ass back against him in tandem with each pump of his cock. A few more strokes and the two of you come together, the mess spilling onto the sheets as soon as he pulls out. 

He wipes you down with tissues and baby wipes you have handy on your bedside drawer. As soon as you’re both clean, he cradles you in his arms, spooning you from behind. 

“I know this is going to sound super cheesy, but I truly feel like a winner now,” he says, kissing the nape of your neck. 

You chuckle, squeezing his hand in yours. “Wait until you win March Madness. Then you’ll really be a champ.”

“Even if I lose, I’ll still have you. And that’s been my dream all this time.” 

You shift your body to face him, gazing into his eyes. “I thought your dream was to make it into the NBA?”

He smiles, booping you on the nose. “It’s part of the dream, sure. But I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am now if it wasn’t for you. You kept me going all these years. Knowing you were always on my side gave me the strength I needed to get here. As long as I have you, I’ll be living the dream.” He kisses you on the forehead. “I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.”

“Forever and ever?”

“Forever and ever.”

~~~

In an upset, your school loses in the Final Four. It’s the furthest they’ve gotten in university history, and a large part of that is due to Connie and his extraordinary performance as their point guard. His efforts do not go unnoticed; his coaches and many prospective agents have contacted him, encouraging him to apply for the NBA draft. 

June of the same year, Connie Springer is drafted tenth in the first round and you’re sitting right beside him with his parents, cheering for him. Just as you have throughout all these years, and just as you will for the rest of your lives. Forever and ever. 

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette shivered, bringing her blanket further around her as she stared out the window. Even though it was still autumn, the weather for the day could easily be mistaken for winter. There was snow falling outside and, while she normally would find it pretty, she was still waiting for her tiny heater to warm up the room.

...I hope Luka's okay, she thought, curling in on herself worriedly as she imagined how he might be doing. They'd only met recently, but he was always so sweet to anyone who came by, even listening to people's situations despite his own. It felt like they were good friends.

She was certain he had money to stay somewhere as, despite him explaining that he wandered from town to town, he always managed to get enough gigs or general work with his musical talent. He could play just about anything and she'd never seen him turn down a single request (though he did make an amusing face when someone asked him to play an XY song once).

For all she knew, he could've already left and gone somewhere warmer. The thought made her feel colder, wishing that she'd be able to at least say "good-bye" to him had she known.

He might not have left, she reminded herself. He could even still be out there in the cold. Maybe he couldn't find a place soon enough, or everywhere was too packed, or he didn't even know that it'd get cold in time to do anything about it.

She glanced at the window again, watching the snow and imagining how cold it must be outside if she was still cold inside where she didn't have to worry about the wind chill factor of a cold breeze.

After a few seconds of silence, Marinette let out a loud whine of relent, throwing the blanket off of herself and pouting all the way to the door. She snagged her jacket, put on some boots, and opened the door to brave the cold outside.

——

"Luka!" Marinette cried, storming up to him. "What are you doing out here?!"

She found him out in the park, sitting on a bench like it wasn't snowing outside. He was in the middle of playing guitar, though "playing" was a bit generous when his fingers seemed frozen in position. She distinctly remembered cold winters back when she was younger when the heat would be only in the bakery section of her parents' house, leaving her to zone out in her room when it felt too chilly to think straight.

Luka only looked up at her when she put a hand on his shoulder, his hand twitching as his eyes focused on her. The scarf he wore was of decent quality, but hardly good enough to keep him warm.

"M-Marinette..."

"I can't believe you're still here!" She threw her hands up, but flinched and hugged herself when a cold breeze flew past. She scowled at the flecks of white in Luka's hair making it sparkle, eyes trailing down to his pants next to add, "And you're still wearing distressed pants when it's this cold?!"

"Sorry." He smiled, but sounded confused as if her worrying about him was strange. "I thought maybe I could make something new. It's not that cold."

"Not that—" Marinette bristled. She'd been out in the cold for maybe five minutes and already hated it. Almost like a declaration, she said, "...You're coming with me."

He blanked. "What?"

In a swift motion, she took his guitar from his lap and put it in the case, locking it shut so she could safely get it onto her back.

"Marinette—" Luka tried to protest again, but she was already grabbing his arm and pulling him off the bench. He stumbled, his legs taking a moment to find stability.

"You can lean on me if you have to," she insisted. "Why didn't you go somewhere anyway?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I thought someone else could use the space I'd—"

She huffed, almost rolling her eyes. "Yeah, you think that way, and then people start walking all over you, being all friendly just so they can..." She trailed off as she caught Luka's concerned gaze, blushing when she realized that she was revealing too much. "Ah—anyway, we need to go."

——

After practically shoving Luka inside her home, Marinette turned and used her full weight to slam the door shut behind them. The warmth of her house slowly started to sink back in and she let herself sigh in relief, almost dropping to the floor before she remembered the guitar case on her back.

"Can I set this down?" she asked.

Luka nodded, seeming somewhere between fond and amused. She took the strap off of herself and let it lean against the corner of the room, then started to dust off bits of snow from herself. Taking a look at Luka, who stood either too cold to notice his own state or uncaring, she reached up and did the same to him. She felt like a feather duster, brushing unwanted specks and such away to make way for a neater appearance.

It was only once she stepped back in satisfaction that she noticed Luka's wide eyes. It registered with her then that this was a grown man, she was a grown woman, and she was touching him even if it was with wholly innocent intentions. Maybe it was simply because Luka was such a comforting presence or she'd just been lost in the moment, but she genuinely hadn't thought about it.

"...O-oh!" she exclaimed, turning away and trying to find any distraction. Spotting the heater still in the corner, her mind buzzed trying to think of how to best rid him of the cold and she decided, "I'll let you use my shower."

"I—" Luka shook his head, back straight like he was trying to be professional about this. "I can't ask you to do that."

"Good thing you're not asking then!" She gave him a gentle push towards the hall as a test, eyeing his legs when he adjusted his balance. "See? I bet your legs are still frozen! Now go!"

She walked past him and tried to show him the way. It took a moment, but she eventually heard his footsteps following after her, confirming that he'd finally accepted the offer.

Marinette took one look into the bathroom to make sure she didn't need to panic clean, then stepped aside to allow Luka in. "There you go."

"...Thank you, Marinette," Luka said.; she could tell that he'd held back another refusal and it made her feel a little smug. He continued, "I'll pay you for it."

She poked his chest. "Don't. It's just one friend taking care of another." She paused, hesitating when she realized that they'd never established their relationship. "Uh... w-we're friends, right?"

Thankfully, Luka smiled at her, voice soft as he replied, "Yeah. Of course."

She smiled back, watching as he turned away to head into the bathroom. He went to close the door as something occurred to her, her hand unconsciously reaching out to stop him. "Wait!"

He opened the door back up, blinking at her. She ran off to go grab her tiny heater, unplugging it from the wall and gathering it in her arms.

"Here," she said, running back and handing it over to him. "Plug this in. I hate it when I get out of the shower and it's cold."

"Don't you need this?" he wondered, adjusting his grip on it to ensure he wasn't putting any pressure on the wire.

She waved a hand, dismissing the idea. "I'll be fine for a few minutes." Looking him up and down, she mulled over if she covered everything. Her eyes locked with the tears in his pants and she snapped her fingers, noting, "Ah, you'll need something warmer to wear!"

She didn't wait for him to say anything and went off to her room. While he was obviously too big to wear anything of hers, she still liked to dabble in making clothes in her spare time - including menswear - so she found something suitable enough for him.

Luka was still standing awkwardly in the doorway when she returned. She piled the clothes into his arms that were still carrying the heater, but while he was giving them an odd (almost uncomfortable?) look, she had another thought.

"Oh, and you'll need your own toiletries of course!" She went past him into the bathroom, crouching down at the sink to open the cupboards underneath it. She always kept spare hair care products for when she ran out, and while she didn't really have any that were made with men in mind, she didn't imagine Luka would care about that sort of thing.

She brought back a few of them she thought he might like, though his arms were still full with the heater and clothes. Leaning left and right to get a good look at the situation, Marinette carefully wedged the products where she knew they wouldn't fall.

Somehow he gave an even stranger look at the products themselves. It was comical actually, poor Luka standing there and trying not to drop anything she'd handed him. She blushed, wondering if maybe she'd overwhelmed him at all.

I-I guess I could've just put everything near the sink or something instead of giving them to him, she thought, rubbing an arm shyly.

Luka, however, took it all in stride, a laugh bursting from his chest that almost threw off his balancing act. "You're a funny woman, Marinette."

"F-funny?" She stared, wide-eyed at what she interpreted as a bizarre reaction. Did she embarrass herself?

Luka's gaze was warm though, reassuring her before he turned away to her towards her shower. While he didn't elaborate, the way her heart skipped a beat told her that he could've only meant good things.

She walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her to give Luka privacy. There was a clattering noise from the other side - probably him finally losing his hold - and she covered her mouth with both hands to hide her laugh. He was a little funny himself.

——

While Luka was taking his shower, Marinette decided to prepare some hot tea to keep her warm. The lack of her heater still left her a little cold, but she put up with it like she said she would.

She could hear the shower running, as well as what she was certain was Luka's humming. If she listened closely enough, she could tell what sound it was.

He has good taste, she noted, finding herself humming back.

She didn't have people over that much, so it was often just her in the house. She didn't even think anyone had used her shower before besides herself. Now that the panic of getting Luka out of the cold had settled, it was oddly nice just having someone in her otherwise lonely space.

Time passed, Marinette only stopping her humming when she needed to take a sip of her tea. Another cup had been set out in case Luka wanted something as well, though she was prepared to make him hot chocolate instead if he didn't like tea.

It was strange though. At some point, she stopped hearing the shower itself and only heard Luka's hum. It also sounded like it was louder than before. Maybe she was hyperfixating so much on the sound that she was blocking out everything else?

At least, that's what she thought until she looked up, noticing Luka leaning against the wall. He was still humming along with her, a look of amusement on his face.

"Buh—" She averted her gaze, a strangled noise coming from her throat when she cut off her hum. "S-sorry. I knew that one, so..."

"You always made the best requests," Luka compliments instead of addressing the humming elephant in the room.

She giggled sheepishly. "I know the best music. That's why." Then, trying to turn things around on him, she grinned and reminded him, "I would've asked you to play XY if I didn't."

Luka's face soured instantly. Feeling successful in her attempt, Marinette laughed in delight.

Now that he was out of the shower, she was able to properly take him in. Sweaters weren't really "his thing" and it showed in how he wore it - not that she wouldn't take on the challenge of making him one he liked wearing - but it was comfortable. His hair, meanwhile, was damp, but dry enough that he didn't need a towel around his shoulders to catch water. She kind of wanted to touch it, entranced by the way his highlights remained unaffected by being washed. Maybe they were natural after all.

Unprompted, she blurted out, "How aren't you famous?" and while it would've been easy to take it back or apologize, Luka was never offended by more personal questions and she wanted to know. "You're more talented than most - probably any - musicians in the industry, you're handsome, and you have good energy."

He blushed at the blatant compliment to his looks - cute - but answered anyway, "People have tried, but I'm not interested."

"Really?"

He walked closer to her for a more comfortable conversation. She showed him the hot water and his choice between tea or hot chocolate, noting that he opted for tea and sweetened it a little more than she would have.

She made a mental note that he had a bit of a sweet tooth.

"I know it sounds like an honor to have people offer me deals," he sighed, leaning against the counter and fidgeting with the tag on the teabag, "but they always want me to change something. They think I need more tattoos and piercings, or want me to be a little meaner for an 'edge', or change the kind of music I like to make."

Marinette understood that. There were some types of fashion she didn't like to make, and while it felt bad turning down requests from friends or even commissions, she didn't want to force anything or go outside of her comfort zone. She was simply her and she respected herself enough to avoid putting herself through that.

"I get it," she said after a moment, smiling sympathetically at him. She'd already revealed something personal that day, so she didn't want to unload further onto him. Maybe another time.

Luka smiled back at her, then looked back down at his tea. He took the spoon and gave the tea a stir, adding on, "I wouldn't have accepted anyway, even if they did give me a good deal. I don't think I want to be a rock star."

In shock, she wondered aloud, "No? I was so sure that's why you were traveling. I thought you were trying to get someone to notice your skills?"

Her reaction felt rude, but it didn't look to surprise him. She supposed he must've gotten it a lot, perhaps from frustrated people who wanted him yet couldn't have him.

He hesitated, tapping at the edge of his tea cup with a black nail, before asking, "...Can I tell you something personal, Marinette?"

Perhaps too eager for her own good, she stepped closer and nodded fervently. It was perhaps too close for the amount of time they'd known each other, but she was too curious to care and Luka didn't mind.

"My mom never liked being tied down," he began. "Even if we stayed in the same city, we lived on a houseboat so she could move whenever she wanted to." He stared off at nothing, as if reminiscing on mixed memories. "I never said anything about it because we were taught to go wherever our passion took us, and hers took us all over until I grew up enough to go out on my own."

"And she rubbed off on you," Marinette guessed. She imagined a little boy on a pirate ship, going to sleep in one place and waking up somewhere new; a dramatic mental image and almost definitely not how it was actually like, but she felt that it was the feeling he was getting across.

"She didn't have an anchor keeping her in one place," he continued, lifting the teabag slightly just to let it go and watch it sink back to the bottom of the cup. "She did meet some woman before I moved out, but she liked to travel too." He shrugged, unbothered. "I don't know where they are, but I'm sure my mom's happy."

It sounded sad, but Luka didn't. Marinette wished she could be in his mind for a moment, going through his memories to see where his attachment to his family began and his lack of attachment when it came to letting people do as they pleased began. What could she even say? That his mother surely missed him? That he was better off as he was, going around by his own choice than his mother's? That he at least seemed happy traveling from place to place and playing for people even if he didn't have a place to call home?

"You're looking for your own anchor then," she said instead. She was sure that's where he was going anyway.

He hummed with a confirming, "Mm," and that was apparently all he had to say on the subject, as his next comment was, "I should get your heater back from the bathroom."

She let him go, watching him disappear into the hallway. The vulnerability he'd shown her made her shiver, drawing her eyes back to the world outside her window. Taking her teacup with her, she crossed the space and set it on her windowsill while she took in the sights.

The snow had stopped only after she and Luka were out of its range, because of course, and she focused on the blanket of snow covering just about everything. Some people walked by, most dressed for the occasion while others were as unprepared as Luka, and Marinette frowned at the idea of having not planned further than getting him a warm drink and shower. On some level, it wasn't any of her business, so whether Luka moved on to go somewhere warmer or chose to stick around a little longer shouldn't matter to her.

It mattered to her.

As she mulled it all over, she faintly heard footsteps behind her, the other sounds signaling that Luka had returned and was setting up the heater back where it was before. Not stopping to think or let herself regret saying it, she voiced, "Do you want to stay here until the cold lets up?"

Silence was her response, and even his movements had stopped. She followed the original source of the sounds to see Luka crouched down, his hand hovering to put the plug in the socket yet frozen in place while he stared up at her in surprise.

Still committing to the suggestion, she anxiously tried to persuade him. "I know you were just talking about how you travel everywhere, but I'm worried about you. Even if you have the money to go somewhere warm, it's still expensive, isn't it?" She waved her arms about as she spoke, trying to work out her nerves. "I'm not asking you to pay rent either. The house is big enough and your company is—"

"Won't that make things hard for you?" he suddenly questioned.

"...Huh?" She tilted her head, puzzled. Wasn't she just explaining how there was more than enough room in her house for another person?

Luka stood, abandoning the plug - or maybe having forgotten it entirely - to stand up at his full height. Touched, he put a hand to his chest, but clarified, "If you really want me here, I'd love to, but I don't want anyone to feel awkward if I stay."

"What are you talking about?" She stepped closer to him again. "Why would it be awkward?"

There was that face again: the one he'd made when she gave him clothes and the hair care products from under the sink. She ran over their whole conversation, wondering if maybe she'd said something that he could've taken the wrong way.

"Marinette," Luka said, sounding as confused as she felt, "I'm talking about your boyfriend."

"My—" She felt like she was going to fall over. "My what?!"

"Or your girlfriend," he hurriedly corrected, looking contemplatively at the clothes he was wearing. "I guess if she was tall enough, then—"

"Luka!" Marinette put a hand over her face in an attempt to cover up her blush, her other hand waving wildly at him to tell him to stop. "I-I don't have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or anyone. Those clothes are mine." Okay, maybe that would only confuse him further. "Do you remember when I told you that I design clothes?"

He nodded.

She pointed up and down at him. "I made those. They don't belong to anyone."

Luka's body language changed in an instant. Both of his hands went up to grasp at the sweater, his eyes intently taking in every detail of it with such awe that she felt a sudden burst of confidence.

Everything clicked now. He hadn't looked awkward in the clothes she made because of how he felt wearing such clothes, but rather because he thought they belonged to someone else. He only hesitated on accepting because he thought there was someone else living with her. With the latter, there were all sorts of ways she could interpret him having thought that she'd already been spoken for, but regardless, it did mean one thing...

"So you'll stay then?"

He tore his gaze away from the clothes to make eye contact with her. In response, she held her hand out, hoping to make the offer "official" with a handshake. She could already imagine him insisting on doing dishes for her or giving her warnings about when he'd be gone and when he'd be back, and honestly it just made her all the more eager to get him to accept. He was just cute that way.

"...Alright." He beamed at her, reaching out to complete the handshake. "I'll stay. Thanks, Marinette."

It must've taken a lot for him to agree to root himself somewhere, so she felt extra special albeit a little guilty for it. Besides, maybe it was just her imagination, but she did feel like an anchor in a way, keeping Luka grounded in her presence. It felt as though he wouldn't go anywhere so long as she kept holding onto his hand.

Idly, she thought that she wouldn't mind being that for him.

[my-supernatural-rewatch]

Episode 8: Bugs

Dean Winchester in the Supernatural episode Bugs

There are not enough words to describe how much I hate watching this episode.

It's actually a lot better an ep than I remembered, but I hate all the...you guessed it...bugs. (Even knowing they're fake. I lost count of how many times I closed my eyes while watching this episode.)

Dean and Sam investigate a new housing development where people are seemingly being killed by...ugh...bugs.

So this episode starts with something I wish we got to actually see more of on the show...Dean walks out of a barroom after making money hustling pool. I would love to have seen more of that. I know we got a few glimpses but I think it's such a good example of Dean honing a craft, becoming expert at it, and using it to survive.

And since Dean did this, of course Sam has to take issue with how he made his money. He complains about Dean making money hustling pool and with credit cars scams and suggests they get 'day jobs.'

Dean weighs the honest ways of money versus the easy and fun ways to make money and his happy with his life choices. "It's no contest."

"Besides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do."

Because God forbid John took a day job once in a while.

Sam admittedly has a great reponse, "Yeah, well how we were raised was jacked."

For once, Sammy, you aren't wrong. Dean, of course, disagrees.

"Says you."

Now as time goes on we'll find out Dean pretty much agrees with Sam but right now John looms heavy over Dean and he wouldn't dare say that to his younger brother.

As an aside, the beginning of this episode has Def Leppard's Rock of Ages playing (presumably in the bar?) and it is as of now the second time we hear this song just this season. We know it comes up again in season five and I'm wondering if we hear it again between now and then (I'm not spoiling it for myself by Googling it).

Oh and another aside that's been nagging at me since I am keeping track of when Dean wears John's jacket...where do they keep all their clothes? Granted, there probably aren't a lot of them but we know they aren't in the trunk because of all the weapons and shit they keep there...and we never see anything in the back seat...so where are the clothes? Where does Dean keep all his different jackets?

On the fly, Dean comes up with the idea to stop at an open house and talk to the people in the development to see what they can find out. (This is after they flipped a coin to see who went in the dirt hole the first dead guy was found in and Sam goes in even though Dean said he would. There are bugs. It is gross.)

As they approach the house, we get another glimpse into how the show wants us to think Dean feels about family-type communities such as the one they're currently in.

"Growing up in a place like this would freak me out." "The manicured lawns. 'How was your day, honey?' I'd blow my brains out."

Of course we find out Dean truly wanted some version of this both when he gets captured by the Djinn and when he's with Lisa....

But. I. Digress.

Sam protests by saying there's nothing wrong with normal and Dean responds with "I'd take our family over normal any day."

And I believe him to a certain extent. Dean has to believe that the way they were raised was the right way because if he doesn't what does that say about him...about his father? Dean isn't yet in a place to be thinking about this stuff too deeply.

We then get our first, but not last, instance of someone mistaking Sam and Dean for a couple instead of brothers when the real estate agent and guy who created the development assumes they are together and looking for a home.

Dean is the one who explains that they're brothers while Sam stands around with a goofy smile on his face.

Once they're in the backyard, where people are there mingling for this fancy schmancy open house, another realtor mistakes them fro a gay couple and Dean plays into it but calling Sam "honey" and slapping his ass.

This episode introduced me to steam showers and to this day I so fucking want one. Just like Dean.

Sam ends up bonding with the real estate agent's teenage son and doesn't even use his fake sympathy voice. Good for you, Sam!

Sam witnesses the kid's father being an overbearing jerk to his son and comments to Dean that he reminds him of John...to which Dean takes offense.

"Dad never treated us like that."

Sam points out that John never treated DEAN like that (which we find out to not be true but in fairness to Sam we also found out that for the most part Sam didn't know how badly Dean was treated by John).

"You were perfect. He was all over my case," Sam tells Dean.

"Maybe sometimes he had to raise his voice, but sometimes you were out of line." I don't believe for a minute that Dean really believs this but I do think that Dean has made himself believe this.

Sam gives the teen a bit of advice about his dad by telling him things will get better when he leaves home for college and is out of the house and away from his father and Dean is not impressed.

"What kind of advice is that? Kid should stick with his family."

This breaks my heart. It really does. Because Dean at this point truly thinks that sacrificing your own needs and your own dreams because of loyalty to your family is the right and only path.

The things Dean could have done had John not kept him under his thumb.

Random weirdness in the episode. About halfway through it, with no explanation, no discussion about it at all, Sam is driving the Impala.

Why, Dean, why?

The brothers get a lot of time in this episode to talk.

Here's the entire dialogue between them because it's too good to summarize:

Dean: Yeah, so with that kid back there...why'd you tell him to just ditch his family like that?

Sam: I know what the kid's going through.

Dean: How about telling him to respect his old man, how's that for advice?

Sam: Dean, come on. This isn't about his old man. You think I didn't respect Dad. That's what this is about.

Dean: Just forget it, all right? Sorry I brought it up.

Sam: I respected him. But no matter what I did, it was never good enough.

Dean: So what are you saying'? That Dad was disappointed in you?

Sam: Was? Is. Always has been.

Dean: Why would you think that?

Sam: Because I didn't want to bow hunt or hustle pool - because I wanted to go to school and live my life, which, to our whacked-out family, made me the freak.

Dean: Yeah, you were kind of like the blonde chick in The Munsters.

Sam: Dean, you know what most dads are when their kids score a full ride? Proud. Most dads don't toss their kids out of the house.

Dean: I remember that fight. In fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases comin' out of your mouth.

Sam: You know, truth is, when we finally do find Dad...I don't know if he's even gonna wanna see me.

Dean: Sam, Dad was never disappointed in you. Never. He was scared.

Sam: What are you talkin' about?

Dean: He was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around. But even when you two weren't talking...he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could. Keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe.

Sam: What?

Dean: Yeah.

Sam: Why didn't you tell me any of that?

Dean: Well, it's a two-way street, dude. You could've picked up the phone.

Not to defend John Winchester because fuck him, but I do think there's a lot to what Dean says here. It makes perfect sense that John would be scared about Sam going off on his own when John had basically spent the first 18 years of Sam's life killing and pissing off monsters. Plus with the demon that killed Mary still kicking about, John had no way of knowing how safe Sam would be on his own.

And, John being John, instead of admitting any of that, he turned it into "if you leave don't come back" because...well, because John is a dick.

I also think Sam, who can be a dick in his own right, probably said some things to John that cut too deeply. John is much more to blame for this, always will be, but I have a feeling Dean is not exaggerating when he says Sam had a decent hand in that rift.

Both brothers look more sad than anything else during this exchange and, yes, that's John Winchester's fucking legacy.

Dean and Sam talk to a Native American man about the bugs and find out about the development being built where the American cavalry raped and then massacred an entire village Native Americans (hello Poltergiest) but he won't talk to Dean because he clocks Dean as a liar and Sam as NOT a liar.

Which, sorry dude, but your radar is a little off there. (I mean not completely but still...)

So weird shit continues to happen and the kid calls Sam for help. Sam tells him to basically convince his father about what is happening and Dean takes the phone from him and tells the kid to LIE because "He'll just think you're nuts." if he tells his dad the truth.

Spoiler: Dean is right; Sam is wrong; the kid stupidly listens to Sam.

Dean's admonishment to Sam made me laugh, "Make him listen. What are you thinking?"

Sam really IS out of practice.

Also, I feel like Dean is projecting a little bit. John wouldn't have listened to either of his sons when they were teenagers. (Hell, he doesn't listen to them as adults.)

So there is a lot more gross bug stuff and somehow they get through and now we get our final brother moment after Sam sees the real estate agent and his son in a better place after their shared trauma.

He tells Dean he wants to find John and apologize "For all the things I said to him."

When Dean asks what he's going to apologize for, Sam admits, "He was just doing the best he could."

Which is an excuse I hear from a lot of fans who defend John Winchester as a father. And, I'm sorry, but just doing the best you could is sometimes NOT ENOUGH.

Dean assures Sam they'll find him and Sam can apologize. Then he hits him with a truth bomb:

"And then within five minutes, you guys will be at each other's throats."

Some notes for posterity:

The significant music from this episode comes from Def Leppard: Rock of Ages (second appearance on the show) and Scorpion: No One Like You

The brothers pose as anthropology students when they talk to John Whitetree but he knows immediately Dean is lying. They tell the coworker of the first guy who dies that they are the nephews of the dead guy, and they tell the real estate agent that they're brothers looking for a place for their dad. (And Dean pretends they're a couple in front of the second real estate agent.)

Movie References: Sam and Dean both mention the film Willard, Dean makes two TV references with The Munsters and Timmy from Lassie...there is also the obvious nod to Poltergeist with the entire premise of the episode.

This hunt takes place in Oasis Plains, Oklahoma.

Dean wears John’s jacket in this episode.

Sam drives the Impala briefly and without explanation.

This is the only episode we see Sam and Dean with umbrellas.

Because Eric Kripke is a bit of a weirdo:

"I called [Manners], said 'the boys aren't scared of demons, but they're scared of rain?' From that point forward, a hard rule: no umbrellas. Not easy for Vancouver."

[shootinwebs]

{Hazbin Hotel Playlist: Deer in Gray Fog}

YouTube version:

Description: Mostly about Alastor being specifically sex-positive graysexual aromantic. These ended up being mostly downer songs, but don't get me wrong, Alastor is proud to be asexual and that part of his life is mostly good.

(Content Notes: aphobia, self-harm, alcohol dependency)

-He does have an incredibly emotional side underneath it all.

-He's not sexually attracted to anyone by their appearance.

-He craves platonic and familial intimacy. Occasionally, sexual intimacy.

-But he's far more interested in the emotional and the trust aspects of sex. He will totally have exclusively sexual affairs with someone if he's found he can seriously trust them enough to take off his perpetually-smiling persona. But he gets very tired of it, very quickly, because most of these people want to have sex with him on a regular basis and he finds that exhausting and sometimes even hurtful.

-If he's seriously sleeping with someone that often, it's definitely an act of self-harm, and involves him drinking over his limit.

-If he actually feels love towards someone, it's not romantic. It's the same way he would love a friend he really trusts.

Some of the songs that I feel aren't simply self-explanatory or that have lyrics I really want to point out:

Stranger (by Goldfrapp) || "Stranger, make me remember you. Taken by the crowd, a tide. It's there, then gone. Do or die." || A gentle but haunting erotic song about a no-strings-attached sexual encounter with a stranger, who is not attractive to the narrator by their appearance but by their otherworldly aura. Pretty much my overall idea of what makes Alastor enchanted by certain people.

Leather (by Tori Amos) || "Don't you want more than my sex? Oh, god, could it be the weather? Oh, god, why am I here? I almost ran over an angel. 'In a sense,' he said, 'You're alone here. So if you jump, you best jump far.'" || Honestly, because of the jazz vibes and the piano riff in the middle, I can totally imagine Alastor singing/playing this. The first line "I'm standing naked before you, don't you want more than my sex?" I think implies a figurative nakedness rather than literal. As in, the narrator has bared their soul to this person, but all the other person can think about and all they want from them is between their legs.

Boxing Day Blues (by Courtney Barnett) || "I know that I let you down. You're not keen on what you've found. I love all of your ideas, you love the idea of me. Lover, I've got no idea..."

All Cats Are Grey (by The Cure) || "I never thought that I would find myself."

Sleeps With Butterflies (by Tori Amos) || "Are you having regrets about last night? I'm not. Is there trouble ahead for you, the acrobat? This girl only sleeps with butterflies. So go on and fly, then." || Alastor being perfectly happy with his aromantic life, and even happier to say "ok! fuck off!" to anyone who doesn't respect that.

Time to Go Home (by Chastity Belt) || "There we were, sitting in silence. Nothing worthwhile to say. Wanting something that would cut deep. Oh... I can't see straight... The room is spinning... I just want to have a good time. I hope you have a strong heart." || Relying on alcohol to help him care less about how someone treats him in bed, craving both exclusively to feel something. But often, for him, the combination of being drunk + bad sex leads to him lashing out (even though he's not even a mean drunk). At best, screaming things at them like, "Don't fucking touch me! Stay away from me!", and at worst, killing them. The second lyric here, I usually interpret as someone being a mean drunk but relying on alcohol to feel something. But with Alastor, "I hope you have a strong heart" would mean he wants to sleep with someone who actually cares about his feelings.

Low Five (by Sneaker Pimps) || "Just change with no real progress, nothing comes to mind. Do you love yourself?" || Desperately craving platonic intimacy and a trustworthy bedroom experience. Alastor also feels that people who are offended by him rejecting them for sex are pitifully insecure and egocentric.

Tear in Your Hand (by Tori Amos) || "I think there are pieces of me you've never seen. Maybe I ain't used to 'maybes' smashing in a cold room, cutting my hands up every time I touch you."

Drone (by Chastity Belt) || "It was just illusion, stuck in my own bad air. I make choices without reason, invite strangers in and leave them. He was just another man trying to teach me something. I never expect much from anyone, so I'm never disappointed and I never have to trust."

Cologne Cerrone Houdini (by Goldfrapp) || "I'm not your kind, I'm not your girl. See, I'm in your car but not your life."

Thea (by Goldfrapp) || "It's a long, long night of waiting. I want you there, I want you gone." || Sometimes when he was alive, Alastor would start crying in the middle of sex, deciding he wanted to stop, and pushing the other person away from him. Because it just didn't feel right. Something was missing.

Dream On (by Depeche Mode) || "Can you feel a little love? What you take won't kill you, but careful what you're giving. Feel the fever coming, you're shaking and twitching. You can scratch all over, but that won't stop you itching." || Can't a potential friend feel at least a little platonic love? The last line suggests a struggle to be satisfied. There have been plenty of times when Alastor has had sex with someone but felt empty or annoyed because the other person just didn't care to make it mutually satisfying or to make sure Alastor could actually trust them.

Laurel (by Goldfrapp) || "Looking for lights, a golden light. Red, red hair and almond eyes. Strange how he's cold behind the smile. An angry mind, don't wait for tonight. Fear is a fog, rolling in and around. Whispers from inside, running out of time." || Alastor just wants friends or a found-family. He just wants to be close with people whom he really trusts (i.e. Rosie). But because of his early life experiences when he was alive, he finds it difficult and even heartbreaking to try to trust anyone. But he has an emotional, sentimental side to him that's desperate to be shared.

All Men Are Pigs (by Studio Killers) || "I believe that life's a film noir. I know the role that you play, so save your cliches. I wasn't born yesterday. Zip it up, Romeos."

"I'm the boy that will heal you, fix you up!" || This song tells the story of a conversation between two people: a person minding her own business and not interested in a sexual encounter, and a belligerent man trying to convince her that he's "not like other guys."

Swamp Song (by TOOL) || "You're a stupid, belligerent fucker. No one even invited you."

Caught a Lite Sneeze (by Tori Amos) || "Boys on my left side, boys on my right side, boys in the middle. Building tumbling down, didn't know our love was so small." || Alastor considers men or any adults who can't keep it in their pants as childish. Acting like boys, not men.

Strict Machine (by Goldfrapp) || He's turned on not by the way someone looks or by romantic feelings, but by the way they touch him, their body language, their tone of voice, and by his own ability to trust them.

My Hands (by Chaos Chaos) || "When you talk to me, there's something in the way. It's when you look at me, so I look far away. I know your kind, you're thinking about it. You think you own everybody. But I do give up, and I do dance with you."

Mama (by Unloved) || "Mama, I did something bad. Mama, I made a mistake. Unlocked my heart, m'aider, m'aider... I let him in, everything went dark. Make it stop, make it go away. I hear your voice inside my head, over and over and over again, 'If you play with fire, you're gonna get burned.'" || His mother was the very first person to be open-minded and to accept him unconditionally, encouraging him to always be himself. It wasn't until after she died that he started putting on a fake persona to protect himself. Because he had no one to confide in, and he doesn't know who he is without her. And that's where his confusing desires for intimacy started and his struggles to understand/accept his own identity. He wouldn't feel the need to subject himself to anything he didn't want if he just had his mother to hug and to talk to. But, she's most likely in Heaven, meaning he will most likely never see her again and never receive her much-needed advice.

[lsdunesarchive]

Frank Iero ‘knew’ L.S. Dunes had to tour in Britain: ‘There’s something about the UK that just gets it’

Words by Rachael O'Connor Photo by Mark Beemer November 10, 2022

US Rock band L.S. Dunes is preparing to release a new album and head out on a tour of the UK

Amid the uncertainty of the pandemic and all of its devastating restrictions, Frank Iero didn’t know if he’d ever play music to a live audience again.

The guitarist and vocalist is best known for being a member of rock band My Chemical Romance, who made a surprise return in 2019 six years after they announced their split.

But while that reunion tour proved long delayed, and live audiences as a whole seemed to be a thing of the past, Frank joined fellow musicians and friends Travis Stever, Tucker Rule, Tim Payne and Anthony Green, to keep making music.

They had to, he explains: it was a ‘lifeline’ to them, while everything else was so uncertain.

Now the music put together by these five friends has a name: L.S. Dunes, billed as an ’emo supergroup’ as it features members of MCR, Saosin, Thursday and Coheed and Cambria.

Frank isn’t too fond of that phrasing – more on that later – but speaking to him, it is abundantly clear how excited he is to tour upcoming album Past Lives with L.S. Dunes, particularly in the UKr.

Why? Because the UK gets it.

L.S. Dunes are bringing their energetic live performances to the UK next year (Picture: Mark Beemer)

‘As soon as I heard this record I was immediately like, “We need to go to the UK,”‘ he tells Metro.co.uk.

‘I don’t know if it’s the sensibilities but I’ve always felt like, whether it was My Chemical Romance, Death Spells, there’s something about the UK that just kind of gets it. And they tend to get it before anybody else.

‘There’s a certain sensibility around some of the stuff that I make. [The UK] feels like, some might say a second home but it feels like a first home for the art.’

After performing in arenas across the world with My Chemical Romance – with more to come in Australia and New Zealand next year – the New Jersey native is ready to take it back to more intimate venues with the L.S. Dunes tour.

Frank, Tucker, Anthony, Tim and Travis are doing a short but sweet trip across the UK, with shows in Glasgow, Manchester, Birmingham and London’s Electric Ballroom at the end of January.

With four shows in a row, it doesn’t give the band much of a chance to explore, but as Frank puts it, ‘I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to play a lot of those places a bunch of times in the past.’

Guitarist Frank says there’s something about the UK that he ‘knew’ the band had to tour there (Picture: Luke Dickey)

‘I don’t think I’ve ever had a negative show. Even the hard ones, they teach you something. But we picked four great cities to have in a row.’

With Past Lives set for release on November 11, the guitarist says performing the songs live is his ‘biggest Want of this year,’ stressing it in such a way that you can hear the capitalisation of the word.

‘I’ve listened to this record countless times and I haven’t gotten sick of it. That’s not something that I think easily happens.

‘You get a real sense of what the band is, where it came from, and what we’re trying to put across. It’s not a light record, there are some heavy moments, musically but also emotionally in the subject matter.

‘It’s something that needs to be digested a little bit, and I am looking forward to people hearing the record the way we made it and then experiencing it live.’

The musicians desperately missed performing during the pandemic, leading to jam sessions which eventually became the new ‘supergroup' (Picture: Mark Beemer)

This is L.S. Dunes’ future: albums, touring, the roar of a live crowd. But back when it all started, in the darkest days of the early pandemic, none of it seemed possible.

‘Collectively we (the future L.S. Dunes band members) all felt the same way. Nobody knew what was going to come of it. You’re watching people lose their lives, lose their livelihoods all around you,’ Frank recalls.

‘People were scared to go outside and scared of other people. [Making music] was our way to still connect – and we didn’t even need to be in the same room together.

‘It became this lifeline of creating art and playing together and making something out of this craziness and this fear that we all had.’

A few of the future members had jammed together for a Thursday live stream in 2020, but L.S. Dunes really started life with bassist Tim and drummer Tucker contacting Frank and Travis and asking if they wanted to create original music.

‘I was never going to say no to that,’ Frank says. ‘”You want to write music with some of your best friends that are some of the best musicians you know?” Like, I definitely want to do that!’

Frank describes his bandmate as some of his ‘best friends’ and ‘the best musicians’ (Picture: Zachary Spangler)

In the basements of family homes, Dunes tracks were being created bit by bit, with the members emailing each other something new to work on every day.

At this point in its life, the group didn’t have a vocalist, and Frank admits none of the members were interested in taking on the role.

They even dabbled in the idea of being a fully instrumental band, but eventually ‘the name on all of our tongues was Anthony’ – and as soon as they heard him sing, Frank realised: ‘Oh… this is a real band.’

But Anthony had no idea what he was auditioning for: he didn’t even know who the other members of L.S. Dunes were. He simply heard the instrumental track – sent over email – and got to work.

‘The fact he jumped on it and started to write lyrics and sending tracks back immediately, without even knowing who was in the band, was testament to how much of an artist he is and how fearless he is to jump into anything,’ Frank praises the band’s frontman.

‘And how good the songs were! They moved him, without knowing who it was. So that was a big excitement for us as well.’

The result being breathtaking debut album Past Lives, with each of the 11 tracks offering something unique and, often, devastating.

Take for example 2022, the opening track and one of the three singles released from Past Lives so far. For a band founded in the middle of the pandemic, it’s to be expected there’ll be some reflection on those dark days, and the album’s opener is a gut-punch with its raw emotion: ‘If I can’t make it ’til 2022/ at least we’ll see how much I can take.’

The song was so personal, so ‘haunting and beautiful’ that Frank admits he was wary to work on Anthony’s demo at all ‘until he assured us over and over again that that’s what he wanted.’

‘It’s hard to take a song with that much weight to it and put your spin on it. You have to keep checking in and be like “Is this the right direction, how do you feel about this?”‘

But they persevered, and the final product on Past Lives is actually, Frank reveals, the first time he ever played 2022 in full.

‘I heard the song, I listened to it, I listened to what Tucker was doing, and then my first complete run-through of the song is what’s on the record,’

‘I knew I’d be chasing that performance,’ he explains, describing the song as ‘a real special one.’

And so the band is born. They have songs. An album. A name. And then they had to keep it quiet for the bones of two years.

‘It was an amazing feeling [to finally announce it] – it felt like a weight had been lifted,’ Frank grins.

‘It’s hard to keep that secret, especially when it’s something you’re so proud of and so into. It’s been hard to hold these songs in for as long as we have!’

L.S. Dunes made their debut performance at Riotfest, when they had just one single out in the world, and were playing to a crowd who had not necessarily come to see them.

‘It was like “This could be terrible,”‘ Frank recalls. ‘But it was the best first show of any band I’ve ever been in. It was insane.’

L.S. Dunes made their debut at Riotfest this year when they had just one single out, but it was ‘the best first show’ of any band Frank’s been in (Picture: Mark Beemer)

But because of this, ‘it’s hard to see what the fanbase is at the moment.’

‘It does feel like it runs the gamut of all of our bands, but also individuals that maybe weren’t fans of previous stuff but are fans of this project. That’s also what we’re trying to get across with the idea of Past Lives: this is where we’ve been, it got us to where we are now, but that’s not what this band is.

‘This band needs to be able to stand on its own two feet. I think we accomplish that in the record and it’s up to the listener to give it its chance. I think people are smart enough to do that.’

With each of the members already having stellar careers, their original bands being massive names in the scene for years, L.S. Dunes has been labeled an ’emo supergroup’ – and Frank is not exactly a fan.

‘I don’t mean to call anybody out, but it just feels lazy,’ he sighs.

‘People are way into labels of things and they like to put things in boxes. I love little containers for things, but not people and art.

‘The supergroup thing, I get it. We’ve all been in other successful bands. But really … this is just the friend group that I have. We all live kinda close to each other, and when you tour enough you become friends with people that do what you do.

‘Supergroup, I don’t know – they’re like my friends from work.’

Frank is currently on tour in the US with My Chemical Romance, after an incredible UK and Europe leg earlier this year, before L.S. Dunes was announced.

Now preparing to take Dunes on tour for the first time, Frank is ready to finish up with MCR and ‘dedicate my full brain space to all the Dunes songs.’

‘It’s been a lot!’ he reveals. ‘With My Chem, we had basically a bank of around 50 songs… and then the 11 Dunes songs were in my head. I would be rehearsing the songs we were going to do that night for My Chem, and then jump over to the Dunes set for the Riotfest Aftershock shows, then go back and forth… so my practice schedule was almost as long as the show.

‘I’m looking forward to scaling it down a little bit. I’m surprised I’m not having nosebleeds!’

L.S. Dunes’ debut album, Past Lives, is out on November 11. The UK tour kicks off in January.

[manateeteaparty]

Today it's really nice and pretty outside, and on my drive to work I started thinking "Wow all the leaves are gorgeous and I bet there are tons of mushrooms everywhere, it would be a great day for a walk. I should message M-" and had to stop myself and be like oh, that's right, we don't talk anymore, we've been broken up for months. I haven't seen him in months. It's insane how my brain is still associating him with certain things. Or how I'll be in a store and see something and think "Aww this reminds me of him, I should buy it for him" but then I remember. Literally anything- a song, a picture, a movie, a certain food- my brain is always thinking of him one way or another, and I wonder when that's going to end? How many more months is it going to take, how many more years even? He's not a part of my life anymore, so why is my brain still saying "Hey remember this? Think of this! Here's this random fucking memory from 1, 2, 3? years ago. We know you're doing good and were having a great day, but we thought we'd remind you, that happened". And the random flashbacks- they happen so often. I can be at work, be driving, be out with friends, just be doing nothing at all, and his face just pops up in my mind for a split second. The best way I can describe my flashbacks is like a random photo memory briefly flashing before my eyes. Him smiling at me or laughing. Of us hugging. Of me looking down at my hand holding his. And the absolute worst photo memory- him holding my face in his hand, looking down at me while we're having sex, saying "Emily look at me- I love you. Do you know that? I love you." Then leaning down to kiss me. That one is like being punched in the gut. I instantly feel like I'm going to puke and start tearing up. The worst part of flashbacks is I never know when or where they're going to happen. If I'm alone it's more manageable- just go lay down, do some heavy breathing, try and distract myself. If I'm out in public it's worse. I start to panic. There's nowhere I can go. People can see me tearing up, they see me biting my lip, they see me just standing there not knowing how to manage my feelings. Being scared. And if I'm at work, I seem like a lunatic who just froze up and started randomly crying for no reason. It's debilitating. I don't understand why the brain does this while someone is in the process of healing. I mean I do- it's a trauma response, your body is feeding you the negative information as a reminder that it happened, trying to remind you to stay away from said negative experience- but if you're trying to forget it even happened in the first place, it's stupid and not helpful. It just makes things worse. I've been working with my therapist on re-setting the Vagus Nerve (the nerve responsible for the body's trauma response) and reading a lot about how it stores so many years of information whether we want it to or not- and in people with PTSD or in my case C-PTSD, the Vagus Nerve just continues to store and store all the negative experiences and emotions as a way of protecting itself and never gets a chance to re-set, like it would usually. I'm trying not to be so hard on myself and to be kinder to myself even though I feel dumb doing it- I try to find one thing I like about myself physically each day. And yesterday before I went to the show in Boston, I decided I would curl my hair so I was standing in front of the mirror in my bra and my makeup all done and I thought 'Holy shit, I look really hot right now? I would fuck me.' My lips were all puffy and pouty, there's a noticeable difference in how much weight I've lost, my tits looked huge and round and the way my curls fell down around them was all sexy, I felt like a soft beautiful little angel and for the first time in a long time felt really cute. I gave myself a high five and was like Good job self, I'm proud of you. Now go play with your bouncy tits.

I've had more good days than bad lately. When it's a bad day, it sucks. It feels like how I used to sink into the water in the clawfoot bathtub at my moms house, watching my hair float all around me as I sunk deeper to the bottom and pressed my face to the surface, slowly letting the water swallow every bit of my body and face until my mouth was the only thing above the surface. I'd take a big breath of air and go under, keeping my eyes open, looking up at the ceiling through the surface and listening to the muffled quiet, like I was watching the world from a secret, seperate world. Then my nose would start to fill with water and I would come up spitting and choking, having accidentally waterboarded myself. The quiet is hard. I used to love being alone, now my thoughts are suffocating. I have nightmares practically every night. I'm used to them by now- the only thing I hate about them is the lack of sleep they bring- though it's not like I was sleeping before. I'll admit, lately I've thought about reaching out to him. In the last text he sent me, he said "I feel like my point of view would definitely have a different feel to it". For the past couple of days, when I'm in a positive mood and he comes across my mind, I'll think, why don't I message him and ask to meet up and talk about our different perspectives? No hate, no judgement, no anything- we can be mature and I'd like to think we're better than that. And I'd like to think we'd laugh about a few things. Just talking it out in person, and not over fucking text. Like we should have months ago. Like I wanted to all summer. We could talk, forgive each other, and move on. And yes, I fucking know, I contradict myself so many times- do I want to see him, do I not. Do I want to meet up, do I not. This has been a really confusing time, I've never had a breakup like this before. Most of my previous relationships ended on good terms and we became better friends because of it- and most I still speak with to this day. Only one or two ended not great, but they weren't terrible, and ending the relationship was a mutual decision that we decided on in person. This has been the most painful breakup I've ever experienced, and I don't know how to navigate it. It's all new to me. All these feelings are new. They're constantly changing. It's all really confusing. I know I don't love him anymore- that's gone. But like I said, every once in a while I'll get this positive, hopeful friendship feeling and think "Well maybe I was too rash, maybe I'm letting my fear get the best of me. Maybe we could be friends. It would be nice. I do miss hanging out with him, and we always had fun. Maybe I should swallow my hurt. Maybe I should reach out". A few days ago I even wrote a text out to him and was ready to press send- but ultimately deleted it. Because I remembered that it was my being hopeful that got me into trouble this summer. Every time I was feeling hopeful and thought "I'll just reach out and let him know I'm thinking of him, that I hope he's doing well. Remind him I still care. Surely then he'll want to meet up again" I would tell myself not to give up, that I have to keep trying. But every time I reached out, it just seemed to make things worse. And I just felt more hurt, disappointed, and ultimately hopeless. Hope is what gave me the courage to call him that one night- I didn't expect him to answer, but I thought I would just leave a message telling him I hope he's having a good summer and that I hope to see him soon. When he did answer, I was so fucking happy- until I realized the only reason he picked up in the first place is because my call came up as Biddeford and he didn't know who it was. So in other words, he deleted me as a contact in his phone. Holy shit that stung. I asked him to be honest and tell me if he would've answered if he knew it was me- he said Yes but his voice was shaking and I've never felt so fucking pathetic. That should've been my wake up call right there. That night I should have realized, he was over me, and had been for a long time.

I also realized that it's ridiculous of me to ask if he wants to share his perspective- he had literal months to do that. If he thought it was important and wanted to get it off his chest, he would've said so. And I have to keep reminding myself that as much as I may want to reach out when I'm feeling happy, or upbeat about the future- I need to remember that every single time I've asked him if he wants to see me, he's said no. Every time I pleaded with him to get together, it was a no. So even if I didn't delete that message, and I sent it to him, chances are 1. He would just ignore it 2. He would say "I'm really busy" 3. "I just don't feel comfortable" 4. He would make some other excuse. I have to remember that as much as a part of me still wants to be friends with him, he doesn't feel the same. I am nothing to him. The memories I have are just that- memories. They don't exist anymore. In my mind, we were once good friends. It's crazy to think it was just a few months ago I considered him my best friend, my favorite person in the world. But those are my memories- and that's my perspective. His are entirely different. Maybe from his perspective, we were never friends. Maybe he dreaded seeing me. Where I held a lot of love and happiness for him, maybe he held something different for me. Maybe he looks at his memories with disgust and unpleasant feelings. Maybe he's completely burned them from his mind. And I guess I need to start looking at it from a different perspective, because it's not right to say "still be friends with him". Because, we're not still. Over the summer I had this picture in my head of him finally saying 'Yes, I'm ready now, let's meet up!' and we would give each other a big hug, talk to each other about our summers, catch up on shit, and reconnect as friends. And it would feel like we were never apart- at least that's what I hoped. That's what it always feels like when I see a friend I haven't seen in a while- we fall back into things as if they had just been here the whole time. I see now that all the hope I had for reconnecting like that was just me being blind. He never intended to meet back up. He was done with me from the beginning. I'm trying to move on from this, and I am improving, it doesn't hurt as much on a daily basis. Some days it doesn't hurt at all, it just aches. But always in the back of my mind , there's a part of me that is very aware that this part of my life I considered so special and dear, was not actually that. That although I felt very comfortable with how I felt about him, he apparently felt very different towards me, and I was entirely unaware. And it makes me question everything. Was any of our relationship real? For me, very much so. For him? No, probably not. This person who I viewed as a source of comfort, happiness, grounding, love and safety- a source I thought that was unwavering and was forever- was in actuality none of those things, and was not forever. Over the past month I've often wondered if he viewed me as the opposite, if he thought of me as a burden, if I was more of an annoyance than anything, like a mosquito he couldn't quite reach, so he let it just flit around. I guess I should be thinking that I'm HOPEFUL we can become friends again someday in the future- though hoping gets me nowhere. In my gut I already know the answer- that will never happen. I will never hear from him again. More than likely I will never see him again. I'm just not quite ready to listen to my gut yet. It hurts too much.

I'm desperately trying to forget about our relationship. Our friendship. Him in general. But my mind won't give me peace. So many things I've realized over the past couple of months but am having a hard time accepting for whatever reason; a few male friends I've spoken to, and my therapist- have pointed out that if this wasn't painful for me- if him being gone didn't feel like the end of the world- then it wasn't love to begin with. My grief, hurt and sorrow are proof that I loved him so much, and sometimes when we miss someone we force ourselves to live in the past, because that's the only place we find them. That's the only place they still exist. I have to stop doing that. I have to remind myself that he did not feel those feelings after we split. He moved on very quickly, as if I never existed. If he truly loved me, then it would have broken his heart knowing that I was hurting. He slept comfortably at night knowing that I was. When I find myself in these moods wanting to reach out to him, wanting to be his friend again, I have to remind myself of that. Do I really want to be friends with someone- now or in the future- who treats me like that? Who disrespects me so completely- what kind of friendship would that be?

When someone loves you, they won't avoid the hard parts, they'll be right there navigating through it because they believe in you, in "us", and in the potential to be stronger together. It's not about sacrificing each others joy, but about finding joy in seeing the other thrive. They'll fight to understand you, not just hear you. Someone who loves you will make you feel like your emotions are important, even if they can't relate. They'll hold space for your experiences, your pain, your joy, without making you feel like a burden. They're genuinely excited to see you grow, even if that growth takes you in new directions. They'll be your biggest cheerleader. They hold space for your healing without rushing you. They see your scars and don't turn away. And through all of it, they make the conscious choice to stay. Because real love- healthy love- isn't just about being there for the good times; it's about being there for the whole journey; ups, downs, and everything in between. They don't make you feel like a burden or that your emotions are too overwhelming. Instead they embrace you fully- your light, your shadows, your grays. When someone truly loves you, they'll show up for the hard conversations because loving you means wanting to grow with you, not run from you.

I don't know what I'd call where we are at this point- I think strangers is the best term for it. We don't speak to each other, don't see each other, we don't know what goes on in the others life. We've gone back to not knowing each other. Maybe he's forgotten I exist- I wouldn't be surprised at this point- and isn't that really what strangers are?

[itwas50yearsagotoday]

10/5/23: It was 50 years ago today, October 5th, 1973, Elton John released his seventh album Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. So I wrote already a paragraph about this record, but it got lost when my computer just decided to start screaming... not sure what happened, but I'm sure it's related to my refusal to upgrade to Windows II. Anywho, starting over, this record, a double-album, is certainly a top five best album of 1973... even most of the deep cuts are from at worst listenable to at best near classics. We'll start with the four U.S. Top 40 songs first, as I won't cover them by the time this blog is over... let's start with the #1 song 'Bennie and the Jets'... wow... I think at one point in my 1990s days of hating everything un-ironic, I did not like this song... but it drew me back in like Michael Corleone. Such a unique tune too, as it's pretty simple and kind of empty throughout... easy thumpy beat, random crowd noises, Elton on piano and organ... then he hits that falsetto 'BENNIE!"... I mean c'mon! Oh yeah, I was going to say that this album has aged very well... like there's nothing really embarrassing here (except maybe the title of a certain ska song we'll get to). After 'Bennie', the title track was huge too... kind of a ballad, but such a memorable tune... it would reach #2. Then we have the controversial pick... what I mean is, do we like the original 'Candle In the Wind' which kind of rocks a little, or, do we go with the in-concert 1988 version that became an MTV hit, OR, do we recognize the elephant in the room and go with the 1997 version that replaces MM with Princess Diana. Fuck all that, sorry. The original destroys the other ones, and fuck you if you think otherwise... that newer shit is sentimental garbage, and in a way taking advantage of an accidental death. Yes, I feel passionate about this, because 'Candle' fit MM just so well, and it was done so tastefully. My opinion, fine, but I'm mad that it's even an issue. The song would originally reach #6... you can look up the 'reboots'. Okay! And then the 'rockin' song on the record is 'Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting'... I can remember being a kid and getting EJ's first greatest hits on cassette and this song was probably, along with 'Rocket Man', the main reason I got it. I wore that cassette out... and at the same time, wore out my enthusiasm for 'Saturday', but it's making a comeback in my mind. It's totally a fun song, straight up. Now let's talk about the other bangers... opening up Sir Elton's magnum opus is the 11-minute short suite 'Funeral For a Friend / Love Lies Bleeding'... honestly it really doesn't get going until about five minutes in, although for those first five minutes it's like Elton invited EL&P over to play a ballad... still great! And the rest of the song just fucking rocks... I rarely heard this on KSHE but I did... that's the only way I could have possibly known it before hearing the record. Now there are songs on this album that I did not know prior to exploring... some early deep cuts are the very-1973 sounding 'Grey Seal'... not only is this my favorite track on both records, it is a second or third runner-up to my favorite EJ song... I mean it's like he kicked out EL&P and brought in Steely Dan. That's the only way I can describe it... it's polished, but still raw somehow. Same goes for 'All the Young Girls Love Alice'... a much darker-in-theme rocker, but no less powerful. Okay the only kinda dumb thing about this record is the terrible title 'Jamaica Jerk-Off'... really, Elton (or should I say really Bernie T.)...? It makes me further annoyed because the song is kinda cool! It's not some Zeppelin attempt at faux-reggae, it's actually just plain ol' ska... it's very cool! Okay, since this is a double-album let's run down the rest: 'The Ballad of Danny Bailey' and the last track 'Harmony' are both very good semi-ballads... the rest of the tracks scattered area all just fine, but are only slightly above filler. Overall, though, holy dogshit this is an outstanding record. LISTEN NOW!!

[paracosmic-murdock]

mila's anthology

main masterlist <3

an anthology is a collection of literary works chosen by the compiler; it may be a collection of plays, poems, short stories or song excerpts by different authors.

benedict bridgerton

❁ tell me what are my words worth (series): while the other ladies have grown with the mindset of marrying and having children, you, as the daughter of a man who wanted a son, grew up being both. you learnt how to embroider, play the pianoforte, fence and manage the estate. however, there were some things that not even the duke of burgundy could do, so after he passed and you thought there was nothing left for you, you decided to move to london for a while and go to the royal academy of art. nothing was going to keep you from what you wanted, and you would do whatever it takes: you would lie to everyone, you would live to death, you would pretend to be a man. you had a plan and it would be a piece of cake for you. but again, when has something that she wants and should not do easy for a woman? especially when a man like benedict bridgerton gets in the way in more ways than one.

❁ gold rush (mini series): you have loved benedict bridgerton since you first met him, but after anthony married, he became the ton's favorite bridgerton, and now that everybody wants him, you realized you don't like a gold rush. (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

❁ these colors fade for you only: one thing worse than seeing your enemy often was living under the same roof, certainly, and you and benedict suffered from that unfortunate condition. not even the eleven years you've slept separated by a thin wall only helped you overcome that hatred, you would always hate each other. or not really, because it's too definite to say something as such when a few hours could change the meaning of until the end of time. (part i) (part ii)

❁ longings locked: you were the earl of warwick's sisyphean task—your father's endless and ineffective responsibility was to tame you; but him and your brother had the perfect solution, which was to force you to marry a man that kept you caged like an exotic bird. however, the imprisonment only began to be an issue when you met certain benedict bridgerton, who inspired the fatalest fantasies of your mind... how on earth were you to leave that hedge maze, even for the littlest while, to choose you and him?

❁ the macarons of discord: a critique about your husband's posture while he was unleashing chaos with his younger siblings over macarons brought up the topic of parenthood, something you had failed to address during your marriage but that he knew you had certain restraints about.

❁ if there is no you (request!): after many years of loving and having each other, you and benedict had a beautiful family and a perfect little life together until you fell ill one day and it all threatened to end. while you lied on your bed all day and night, fearing that you might leave your husband and children alone, benedict died a little each second that approached him further to losing you.

❁ when you're young, you just run: your family and the bridgertons have been close for generations, and the friendship between all members of each families was a huge constant. you and benedict used to be a proof of it, until you fell in love with him and later realized that, despite how close you two were, he could never reciprocate your feelings. therefore, you took distance from benedict due to the great pain it caused you to be near him and not have his love, and he never questioned it. but, years pass, seasons change, and your relationship might too.

francesca bridgerton

❁ i still got love for you (mini series): leaving for bath out of the sudden was the hardest thing you had had to do, not particularly because you had left your parents and home behind, but because your friendship with francesca bridgerton was ripped away from you a sudden summer morning. five years later, francesca arrived in bath for the season to practice pianoforte with her aunt winnie, and finally, you see her again after thinking you had forever lost her. how much you wanted for your love to live and beat still, how much you wanted for francesca to say so. (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six)

eloise bridgerton

❁ letters to leda: eloise has shown a shift in her literary interests, and now she found herself enjoying romantic novels. one day, she stumbled upon letters to leda, a compilation of love letters; her fascination was reflected on the numerous times she read the book and the many a theory about the identity of the anonymous sender. one of which, was that the sender was a woman. eloise, then, developed an obsession over it, and wanted answers from the writer herself: you.

anthony bridgerton

❁ tarnished but so grand (series): you, your mother, and younger sisters were left to your own devices after your father's death with no one to take care or provide for you. thankfully, high society's ties were always useful, and you got an interview with none other than viscount anthony bridgerton for the job of his sister's governess. and yes, he could have expected about anything except to fall for you in such invasive, magnificently cursed manner when he was supposed to be looking for his very own wife. (eventually)

kate bridgerton

❁ i'd give up forever to touch you: the arrival of the sharmas to mayfair was on everyone's mouths, whether it was about mary sheffield being back or edwina sharma being the diamond of the season. kate's existence wasn't mentioned unless it was related to her sister, mostly because she has given her blood, sweat, and tears to secure her a fine match; but for you, kate was ever present. living under the same roof as her but not being able to do anything about it was your biggest torment, but not for much longer.

matt murdock

✰ i want the devil tonight: when natasha's latest mission is to identify all of the vigilantes in new york, she shows you the file she has on your boyfriend so you can tell him about it, warn him. little did she know, the sight of matt in his old suit would awaken something deep inside you: a visceral attraction you couldn't quite contain. and you were definitely going to do something about it. (part 1) (part 2)

✰ i loved the present and i love you: your birthday isn't your favorite holiday. damn, you don't even celebrate it properly and you weren't precisely looking forward to it. however, this year you have Matt and he won't let it go unnoticed. at least you will notice.

✰ delicate: matt's midnight visits to your apartment aren't rare, so you never question them. sometimes, he wants his favorite unpaid surgeon to patch him up and do the stitches; other times, he wants your touch, your loving, your attention, and affection. now, after willingly losing his friends to his reckless fears and the terrible-friend reputation of his, he only has you: someone who likes him for him.

[amoveablejake]

My Five Key Songs of February 2023

Round ups a-plenty. 

It may be the end of February but I am already thinking a little about what the key songs for March will be. I’m looking slightly ahead because there are a few songs that have appeared at the tail end of this month that aren’t quite going to make the cut and I wonder if they will be able to stick around long enough to be on the next list. I have a feeling they will alongside some tracks that will arise from a trip that will be taking place soon but that is all to come. For now it is time to look at the final key songs of the winter as we move into spring which I’ve decided even if the weather doesn’t agree. So, lets take a look at what February 2023 had in store in my headphones.

First up, ‘California Stars’ by Wilco and Billy Bragg. 

There are certain tracks that I always expect to be on the shortlist for each month and artists that I would be very surprised if they didn’t make an appearance with at least one offering. Each month, Wilco are there and for February it is their song with Billy Bragg ‘California Stars’ that I have become particularly taken with. As I found this track from ‘Mermaid Avenue’ it did make me think of being in California but more than that it put me in mind of going on a journey and feeling the sun shining on you somewhere a bit different. It is definitely a more American song so it might not exactly fit where I am about to venture off to however, its the sort of song that will probably be playing regardless as its the sort of track that feels like a magnet for memories to be associated with it to then listen back to in years to come and bask in the glow of. 

Second up for February, ‘Movement 1′ by Floating Points. 

After last week’s album of the week piece and my glowing adoration for ‘Promises’ from which ‘Movement 1′ has been lifted from, it is perhaps a surprise that a song from Floating Points is not the key song for this month. First of all, it is not because it has faced some very tough competition but also because there is no rush for it to feature now in order to make its way to the end of year playlist. ‘Promises’ and its truly mesmerising and breathtaking songs I am sure will be playing throughout the year and the chance will arise again for them to take their place and even if that doesn’t happen this year, it might very well in the next. There is no rush. ‘Promises’ feels to me like it will be on my roster for a long, long time and as I listen to ‘Movement 1′ now I am reminded of that with every note and melody. Primarily because everytime I listen to this album whilst I am trying to do something it leads me away from that task and straight into its open musical arms where you simply exist in the rich soundscape it has created to draw on again and again. Perfection. 

The third song up to bat, ‘Truth Interlude’ by Mndsgn. 

When I first heard ‘Truth Interlude’ one afternoon in February, it was the exact song that I needed in that moment. A much needed breath of fresh air to help put a spring in your step. Coming in at one minute and seven seconds long, it is really only an interlude as its title would suggest and should be listened to in exactly that way. This is a song to turn to when you need that little moment to help you get out of your head and to lean back for a moment. I don’t listen to it a great deal but whenever I do need a song to quickly work its way into my system and to help me breathe, I know that I can rely on ‘Truth Interlude’ and infact Mndsgn’s ‘Rare Pleasures’ album itself is also a worthy addition into any library and one that will help to form a bridge out of the winter and into sunnier days. 

The penultimate song for this month, ‘Drive My Car (Misaki)’.

Where would I be without the ‘Drive My Car’ soundtrack. As will come as no surprise at all to regular readers, Eiko Ishibashi’s seminal musical work is appearing yet again this month and really, how could it not. I have at times this month been listening to the soundtrack on repeat throughout the day and into the evening as its eternal magic continues to have a hold on me that really, I am all the better for. This month’s standout song from the record ‘Drive My Car (Misaki)’ is one that I remember listening to for the first time and feeling it sweep me up into it and take a hold of me. Everytime I listen to this song I feel that same initial feeling of warmth and tranquility as listening to it feels almost like a homecoming. This track and the album as a whole have become over the past year so integral to my day to day and self that it now almost feels like a limb or at the very least an extension of my self that I am truly all the better for having. 

Then, without further ado, the key song for February 2023 is, ‘Long Long Time’ by Linda Ronstadt. 

When I was looking over my shortlist for the tracks that could potentially feature today, the moment I saw ‘Long Long Time’ I knew that it had to be the key song. Yes, it is featuring because of the beautiful episode of ‘The Last of Us’ that I have lifted it from. One of the most exquisite episodes of television that I have ever seen and if you haven’t seen it quite yet, oh boy, does that need to change. It is also featuring here because as I made my way to Brighton back at the beginning of the month and had a few train issues, I listened to Linda Ronstadt’s music to help me through the last part of that journey where it did feel a little bit like ‘The Last of Us’ actually. But really, ‘Long Long Time’ has to be the key song for February 2023 because Ronstadt’s voice here is indescribable. This feels like Ronstadt at her very best and one of the best country songs around or rather to me it is. Some of the notes that Ronstadt hits here are the sort of ones that could move you to tears instantly and when it accompanied that episode of Joel and Ellie’s journey, there was no hope of a dry eye left really was there. 

The key songs for February 2023, there we have it and as I say in my head it is now the end of winter as March will herald in the next season. How that will impact the song choices for next month and the music that I listen to, I really don’t know but what I do know is that if anything is going to make an impact it will be somewhere a little different that I will be soon. Stay tuned for more and a different setting for my ongoing detective series. 

-Jake, a man getting to the end of ‘College Park’ and going right back to the beginning, 26/02/2023

[jungkxook]

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[amazingphilza]

twitchcon :: cc!multiple x reader

fluff , platonic , gender neutral ! some mcyt headcanons if you were to attend twitchcon w them

cc’s included in order: tommyinnit , tubbo , ranboo , wilbur soot , philza , technoblade

cw: kinda lengthy for the minors (i think), not as much for the hags LMAO /hj

tommyinnit

this man is so excited to be at his first twitchcon & being able to hang out with all his best friends makes it a hundred times better

when he isn’t at a panel or doing meet & greets, he’s dragging you everywhere to see the whole convention center (clingyinnit)

he is just so at awe despite this not being his first convention to attend

you’d be surprised he gets tired pretty quickly & stops over to the partner lounge

you both rest for a bit against a wall in a pretty packed hallway despite it being an exclusive area to twitch partners

every time a famous streamer walks by he will yell it out and record it then vlog your reaction, even if they’re surrounded with bodyguards & trying to get to another place quickly

he’d zoom in his camera to their face at a horrible angle and be like

“oh my god it is THE ninja. ninja famous fortnite player, HELLO.”

but he gets completely ignored

then the camera pans out to you, still really zoomed in that the capture is blurry

“ninjainnit?”

“EH?”

tommy is so confused, forgetting the bit ninja did on his twitter where he renamed himself ‘ninjainnit’ for a split second

okay tommy isn’t that athletic but he will chase you and the rest of your group down a hallway if he had to

he’d probably find a toy gun from the artist alley/seller booths and shoot you and wilbur with it

but if tommy stumbles across any of the dream team, it’s about to be minecraft manhunt but irl

and he will def play his stream music while walking or smth when he’s bored (or trying to jump dream & sapnap)

** DO DO DO DO MANHUNT MUSIC **

oh my god,, now thinking about it he’s probably the one to open like random doors of empty rooms and steal stuff while you film him

like he will take a random empty glass, a bunch of pens, a freebie t-shirt, everything he sees he takes with him and you’re just panic

“tommy we’re literally not supposed to be here, and i’m stuck here filming you. it’s surely a felony in action”

“well, it’s their fault for leaving the doors open! plus this is great content. who’s the dirty crime boy now, HM?”

you’d tell wilbur about this and he’d scold tommy and threaten him with the same pen tommy stole

tommy probably would also drag you some weird event happening outside twitchcon along with tubbo and ranboo

“pokimane is giving out free pizza to everyone if we go to this one restaurant down the street!”

“we are literally gonna get bombarded. have you forgot you’re like three of twitch’s top streamers? i’d rather pay for all of our meals than try getting free pizza from pokimane against all her other fans”

“DEAL! let’s go to five guys then!”

you unfortunately end up paying for all 3 of their meals and picking on their food instead of buying your own

even with all of them making way more money than you, they still happen to be cheapskates

OR tommy will end up getting a burrito from a taco truck, immediately making a mess of himself, then proceed to complain how messy the food is to eat despite knowing what he was getting himself into before even ordering

“shit my clothes are all ruined now!”

“well that’s your fault you got a burrito, as if it’s your first time having one”

“i mean the food is good, i’m not complaining about that but i don’t think it’s that good that it’s worth costing my red and white shirt, im just saying”

tubbo

same with tommy, he is so excited

i don’t know why but i imagine him overpacking his suitcase and you making fun of him for it

anyway tubbo has his irl backpack on and streaming EVERYTHING

probably spends a lot of time at a bunch of different booths, checking out all the pointless gadgets he could buy for his stream

you’re the one to stop him from doing so

“TUBBO IT’S LITERALLY OVER TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, STOP. DONT GET IT.”

“WHY NOT?? IT WILL BE COOL FOR MY STREAM AND I WILL USE IT EVERYDAY”

“okay theoretically speaking, how the hell are you going to even bring it home? which—let me remind you—is across the country for you and not to mention the giant ocean separating america and the uk”

“free ship-pang!!!”

“i hate to break it to you tubbo but there is no way you can get free shipping on a FIVE FOOT PC. it’s nearly as tall as you! what are you even gonna do on it, hack the government???”

the arguments are all lighthearted but eventually you give in and let him splurge over a thousand dollars in different devices he claimed he “needed”

i could honestly see him visiting the beaches in san diego and going for a swim or even renting out a boat to use for a bit :D

also he’d bring benson along with him and taking a bunch of scenic photos with it in them

i have a feeling he’s the type to schedule a spontaneous meet & greet because he was bored & gets in trouble for causing a mob in a certain part of the convention

he’s like “oh god, i did not expect this many of the bois to show up AHAHAH oops”

tubbo would def pull a lilypichu and bring his melodica or ukulele and play themes while following random people/cosplayers

at the end of the day, you’d find his bag just stuffed with crap he either got for free or bought in the convention

“how did you get all that stuff? i was with you all day??? and it’s only the first day of the convention, hello?? it looks like you’ve been collecting as if twitchcon has went on for a week already!”

“HA i have my ways, do not underestimate my powers”

lani would probably tag along for the vacation honestly

like whenever someone comes up to her giving her gifts/asking for pics, you and tubbo would tease her about how famous she is

and i dunno but something about tubbo just gives me this amusement park energy and going to legoland and spending the whole day there since it’s near by and because he can

ranboo

he is like a beacon in a sea of people, that’s it .

i honestly just see him causing as much chaos as the other two

ranboo would probably like take someone’s camera whether if they’re streaming or if it’s for the vlog, hold it up high, and point the camera directly above someone’s face

it did not matter how tall you were and if you had platform shoes on, ranboo was a skyscraper next to you

“HAHAH this is how i see you from this height, this is funny”

then he shows you the vid of the recording of him getting like an aerial view of your face

like you see your nose and all your pores and just overall a bad angle to be captured in

“OH GOD RANBOO DELETE THAT, ITS HORRIFIC”

i dunno why but i feel like he’d jump scare every person that was cosplaying as his minecraft character from behind for some reason

“BOO!”

“ranboo i’m not even remotely dressed as your skin—”

“don’t worry i’m practicing it’s fineee”

“you’re like the height of 2 people combined, i think you will be fine as is. you even intimidated the security at the front”

i feel like if he had his own panel he’d like pull up some undertale song in the middle of it and scare all the people in the crowd

“lore but in real life”

probably would get some matching keepsake with you from artist alley/the booths!

i could imagine like a cute keychain or smth :D

i feel like he’s the type to like randomly volunteer as a participant for those mini events in a booth thinking it would be funny but regrets it the moment he’s on stage

after introductions the presenter is like “okay ranboo, you will be given a random meme prompt above your head you won’t be able to see until after and you will have to make a random face to compliment it!”

and you can just tell by his facial expression he’s just thinking

oh god what have i gotten myself into

what is this game? who came up with this idea?

you’d laugh at him the whole time, even after he’s off the stage and finished with that small fiasco

“that was horrible. never again.”

“AHAHAH IT LOOKED SO AWKWARD YOU DID GREAT”

“I CROSSED MY EYES AND PUFFED MY CHEEKS BECAUSE I COULDNT THINK OF ANY OTHER FACIAL EXPRESSION. THE PROMPT ENDING UP BEING ‘WHEN TWITTER CANCELS YOU FOR USING PLASTIC STRAWS.’ AND WHEN I SAW WHAT IT WAS—LITERALLY WHAT KIND OF GAME–”

“I GOT PICTURES AND EVERYTHING ITS PERFECT AHAHAHAH”

wilbur soot

honestly with wilbur it’s slightly more chill

he already experienced twitchcon before so he’s just glad to see his friends again after so long

insists that you explore the convention yourself rather than sticking with him the whole time but you do anyway!

wilbur would probably have like a mini concert and gets you front row seats with the rest of the group

but that doesn’t mean before it that you’re not helping him set up

“y/n please– my amp is so heavy, i can carry it”

“don’t worry! i’m strong” :D

and musically talented or not, he will probably bring you and the rest of his friends up to stage to just vibe and sing a bunch of random acoustic songs

it’s not like some big concert hall stage,, i imagine more like a casual thing w a slightly higher platform from the ground yk?

after spending a long day at the convention he’d also bring everyone across the city to la jolla or smth !

you’d all probably have dinner there and chill, watching the pretty sunset

“this place is really pretty but oh my god im gonna lose my breath hiking up this stupid hill, please slow down”

and wilbur is like ??? because he’s completely fine with his long legs and everything

“just walk faster”

“no, you walk slower”

AHAHAH and for context traversing through la jolla by walking around the town is a bit hard since it’s basically on a bunch of hills (walking up from the beach to a restaurant actually is actually sm work, trust me ive been there)

wilbur honestly doesn’t spend that much time in the actual convention center, he’s probably sightseeing a bit of san diego with you instead

but i could imagine him staying at the tabletop games area playing dnd or smth

“c’mon y/n, come join!”

“uhh i’m not sure, i’m not the best at roleplay and...”

“it’s fine don’t worry!”

he’d pull you in with him and end up enjoying yourself even if it was your first time

and if you’re of age, you’d be wilbur’s +1 at the twitch partner party and make sure mans doesn’t too drunk

if it’s not too late in the night, you two would chill at the beach after the party

it’s just a nice, calming moment after all the loud music mixed with hundreds of conversations at the party

also something about like taking polaroids pictures with wilbur just seems to go hand in hand for me

i’m not sure why but you will be taking lots of pics with wilbur for sure (not necessarily you both in the photo, but of sceneries as well while you’re together!)

philza

literally a dad on vacation with his children, it doesn’t matter how old you are

need sunscreen? surprisingly has it

want a snack? probably has a small granola bar somewhere in his bag

but same with wilbur, he’s more chill like this isn’t his first time at twitchcon

omg he’d def bring you to the artist alley and just buy a bunch of fanart and stuff tho

“oh wow look phil, someone made a giant poster of the dream smp and shit!”

“holy shit that’s so good what the fuck!”

and he’s like rushing to that artist’s stall to buy a poster or print

idk why but phil seems like the person to know where he’s going all over the convention center

he probably had a copy of the directory map but yk

you just have trouble reading it bc all the signs seem to be misleading to you

nothing really crazy screams out to me of what phil would do at twitchcon besides like go to a few events, spend a bunch of time w his friends, etc

HOWEVER i could see him wasting a lot of his time at the gaming area and testing new games that are currently on the works of being developed

like “woah y/n, this vr game is sick, you should try it out!”

ngl i feel like phil would plan a visit to disneyland for everyone, like he gets the tickets and everything but once you’re at the park it’s free reign, y’all go everywhere with not much of a plan

the minors would try to cheap out phil and pay less than the others even though everyone else fully paid phil back and everything LMAO

ok but if he’s feeling nice, phil will buy everyone cotton candy/pretzels :D

and if you’re not hungry, he’d at least get you a mickey balloon

HE WILL HAVE MATCHING MICKEY EARS WITH MUMZA YES .

ALSO STAYING FOR THE FIREWORKS THOUGH OMG

just in general, best idea phil had for taking everyone to disneyland :D

technoblade

surprisingly techno is really calm despite this being like one of his first conventions

but when he finally settles in and gets comfortable, he’s showing the same energy

if you’re playfully yelling, he will yell back

however there’s still those awkward moments that are unavoidable

idk why but something about him makes me think that if you feel tired and want to go back to your hotel room, he’d go with you just to make sure you get there safe

he probably also needs a break from being around everyone else for a moment too LMAO

i could also see him searching far and wide in the artist alley for fanart of himself AHAHAH

walking around with him in the convention consists of someone yelling “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD” every 5 minutes but you don’t really mind

something about him makes me think he’ll be forced into playing minecraft twitch rivals along with the rest of sbi or smth

and he’s like “oh god, i’m going to be on stage? and people will see my face while i play minecraft?”

“i’m sure it will be fun!”

“i mean i like being competitive and feeding my ego, but i’m not that desperate.. well”

do i imagine techno getting easily tired of being surrounded by a bunch of people and just going back to his hotel room with phil and watching some anime with him? yes

and will you watch even if you have no idea what’s going on? also yes

i feel like after a while of you guys hanging out in techno’s room, the rest of the gang will just slowly join you guys

like eventually everyone is there; you, techno, phil, wilbur, niki, tommy, tubbo, ranboo, etc

and techno is like “wha– where did you guys come from?” because his room is basically packed

and niki could be like “oh we can go if you want!”

then techno just insists that she’s fine “but who let the child get in?” clearly implying tommy’s presence

“OI!!”

eventually techno gives in with the company and someone gets a bunch of board games to play from the front desk

lots of yelling and laughing for sure

when it becomes late at night, techno is like half conscious, you’re on your phone, wilbur is staring out the window & enjoying the night view, tommy is passed out on the couch from tiredness, tubbo & ranboo is still wide awake quietly talking, and phil & niki are helping clean up the giant mess

eventually everyone brings themselves to go back to their own room except tommy who won’t budge

you give techno a look and he immediately understands what you were thinking

he rushes to the bathroom to fill up two cups with ice cold water and handed one to you

“on three?”

“okay.. one”

“two”

“three!”

then both of you pour the water on the poor child’s face

he jolts awake and saying a string of curses

“what the fuck techno? y/n too?”

“get out” is the only think techno says that before tommy rushes out with his stuff and you leave right after

a/n: i honestly can’t wait until conventions open up again though,, phil and ranboo were talking about vidcon earlier and omg.

also i kinda want to take in tommy requests but i’m not sure??? it would be both cc! and c! x gn!reader for sure tho. i love writing him to bits but who knows, maybe i’ll only stick to my ideas,, or not. send in a tommy x reader request, might do it, might not, but he’s my fav cc if you can’t tell so! :D (i dunno if i will keep it strictly platonic, but unrequited crushes and stuff are fun to write hehe,,)

edit: let’s hope i fixed all the grammar mistakes LMAO we love writing late at night :) /s /hj

[smoochkooks]

 an ode to a broken heart (m.)—masterlist

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

summary: you’ve watched jeon jungkook slip out of your reach your entire life. now it’s time for you to finally move on, bury the past and open a new chapter. however, you’re doing it in your own, unconventional way - by publishing anonymously a novel about your miserable relationship.

prologue: october sky

it’s october, the sky today is clear and cloudless, just like your love for certain raven-haired boy. first is abnormality, second - a cruel reality.

chapter one: beginning of an end

loving jeon jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

chapter two: of peonies and broken promises

you are twenty-four, hopelessly in love with your best friend and peonies still make you nauseous, just like they did eleven years ago.

chapter three: from magnolia with love

you’ve watched jeon jungkook slip out of your reach your entire life. onw it’s time for you to finally move on, bury the past and open a new chapter. however, you’re doing it in your own, unconventional way - by publishing anonymously a novel about your miserable relationship.

chapter four: white lies

it came easy to you to lie. but with every untold truth, you were hurting more on the inside.

chapter five: greek tragedy

it's like you’re playing in a greek tragedy. no matter which way you chose, you’ll end up getting hurt some way, somehow.

chapter six: wish i was (heat)her

perhaps you should have listened and never looked. perhaps your heart would ache then a little less, perhaps you would break a little slower.

chapter seven: sweet dreams (are made of this) | m.

and just like that, you could die your little death over and over again.

chapter eight: city of stars

just like in the song, you wondered: was this start of something new or yet another dream you couldn’t make true?

chapter nine: promises we made, oaths we broke

until summer lasts, jungkook is yours. until you move out and start a new life in seoul, jungkook is yours. promises are being kept, oaths won’t be broken.

chapter ten: chasing pavements

august slips away like a moment in time. slowly, day after another. a story of love that never meant to be.

chapter eleven: a thousand times yes

looking at jungkook standing in the middle of the wedding hall, waiting for the love of his life to walk down the aisle, you’re falling in love with him all over again. 

chapter twelve: love is patient, love is kind

is it really an ending, or just a teaser for the possible sequel?

chapter thirteen: this is a story of love

“this is a story of love so strong, it reaches stars. love so strong, that it makes you weak. love even greatest poets couldn’t find the right words to describe. but I did. I had my heart broken so many times, I wrote an ode to honor it.”

chapter fourteen: when the party’s over

and then you spot him, in the corner of the room, champagne glass already half-empty even though you didn’t have time to take a sip of your own. he smiles and the whole world around you slows down to a halt.

chapter fifteen: remedy for memory

and that's when he thinks desperately, “is there a remedy for memory?”

chapter sixteen: we could be so good

thinking about it right now, you know one thing: all the money and praise would never replace what you really desire. and the saddest part? you know all too well that you could be so good together.  

chapter seventeen: glimpse of us

in every word he reads, he finds a glimpse of you and him.

chapter eighteen: my tears ricochet

once he's gone and you're alone in the empty apartment, your tears ricochet again.

chapter nineteen: illicit affairs

it dies a million little times...

chapter twenty: this hope is treacherous

it is not a sign of maturity, to cling to someone’s drunken words so much. but for a while, you did.

chapter twenty-one: tbu

coming soon

[shangchiswife]

nwh villains and peter parker living with you and doing different things with you (3)

this was sm fun to write also inspired by @mobiusismyfav

nwh villains x gn!reader x peter parker (tom)

warnings: cursing

...

Being obsessed with a certain movie

Everyone except for you and Peter: *eating in the dining room and conversing amongst themselves*

Y/N: *humming*

Everyone: hey y/n!

Max: how was your day?

Flint: we saved you some lasagna and pizza

Y/N: *slightly ignores them and sits down continuing to hum*

Everyone: *exchanges looks with each other*

Otto: Y/N are you-

Peter: WE DON'T TALK ABOUT BRUNO NO NO

Y/N: *stands straight up with a big smile*

Everyone else: what the fuck?

Peter: hey, grew to live in fear of Bruno stuttering or stumbling

Y/N: *smiling and stands on the table* I can always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling

Norman: Y/N get down! I don't want your feet anywhere near my food

Curt: I second that

Y/N: *ignores him and struts across the table, avoiding the food* I associate him with the sound of falling sand

Peter: *joins Y/N on the table*

Y/N and Peter: ch-ch-ch

Otto: lord help me what is going on

Max: is this from that new movie encanto?

Y/N and Peter: *continuing to sing*

Norman: never watched it

Otto: none of us did but apparently they did

Y/N: Seven foot frame, rats along his back!

Peter: Camilo's part is the best part

Y/N: When he calls your name it all fades to black

Peter: *pretends to faint*

Everyone: *panics and attempts to try and catch him*

Flint: this isn't a musical why are they acting like this

Curt: because they are clearly obsessed...

Y/N: Yeah, he sees your dreams and feasts on your screams

Otto: alright settle down children and eat

Norman: you don't want to be spanked now would you?

Y/N and Peter: *get off the table and sit in their appropriate seats*

Y/N: you know you all should watch encanto it's a cultural reset

Norman: fine but only if you stop bursting into song this is real life you know

Peter: that is part of real life i mean what do you think this is fake

Norman: *glares*

...

Playing fnaf

Y/N and Peter: *sitting at a computer frightened*

Peter: you're finally at night 4 you better not mess this up

Y/N: *checks cameras* shut the fuck up this is serious so don't distract me

Peter: Look Bonnie and Chica moved and Foxy's curtain changed!

Y/N: SHUT UP I DON'T WANT TO GET JUMPSCARED

Everyone else: *walks in*

Norman: what's with all the noise

Y/N: *discreetly turning away back to the game* we're just playing a little video game that's all

Max: what game?

Peter: it's called five nights at freddy's

Curt: *walking up to peer at the screen* what on earth is that and why are you checking the cameras?

Y/N: *frantically checking the cameras* i'm trying not to get killed by stuffed animals

Otto: *concerned* are you sure you can handle this game; you both seem a little frightened?

Y/N: we'll be fine

Curt: so what is this based off of?

Peter: the chucky cheese franchise. you know those animatronics in the back that are creepy? well in this game those things are trying to kill you but you're playing a bad guy and they're technically the good guys

Flint: what. you're telling me that those freaky little things in the cameras are trying to kill you and they're good?

Peter: well yes we're playing as a murderer

Everyone else: ...

Y/N: *checks camera and Foxy starts running* OH FUCK OH FUCK

Everyone: *unsettled*

Max: WHY DID THAT BITCH RUN

Peter: SHUT THE DOORS

Y/N: *shuts the door and then hears banging* thank god...and it's 3 A.M

Curt: why does time matter?

Max: i think at 6 A.M you win

Peter: right you are

Norman: this is...something

Y/N: *teasing* can't handle it?

Peter: *checks the cameras* oh my god i can't find chica!

Y/N: *takes control of the computer* what do you mean I-

Chica: *jumpscares the shit out of everyone*

Everyone: *screaming*

Max: *jumps into Otto's arms*

Otto: *shuts the program* no no no you both are not playing this anymore

Y/N: BOO! getting jumpscared is low key fun...

Flint: you both are still young if i saw my daughter playing this this would be out of the house this is a scary game!

Norman: *has a blank look on his face*

Peter: uh oh i think fnaf broke him

Y/N: understandable

Peter: did i tell you how for six months i had to sleep with aunt may because i was scared of this game

Y/N: no...

Peter: well i think i'm going to need to stay with all of you tonight

Everyone: *groans*

Norman: *still has a blank look*

Curt: is he alright?

Max: did he have a heart attack or something?

Norman: *snaps out of it* i'm fine

Y/N: ok...

Norman: y/n I'm staying with you tonight.

Y/N: ....

Y/N: i'm assuming that the rest of you want to stay with me then

Everyone: *nods*

Otto: I'm not scared but sure because the more the merrier right?

[quindolyn]

hi can i request the maurauders going to see the reader do a musical like heathers or mean girls and they are just confused and turned on bc they didn't expect it to be this dirty (can lead to smut or not). luv you and hope you are taking care of yourself, if not go get something to eat, drink some water, take a nap, or do somthing you enjoy. or dont not trying to be pushy :)

Creature of the Night || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 3029 (excluding song lyrics)

A/N: I think I liked how this turned out? I didn’t make it smut but it’s certainly suggestive, I went with Rocky Horror, I know that the musicals mentioned in the request are more modern but I fucking love Rocky Horror and I think it works with the request. When I first read this request I smiled so much because I love live theater, I don’t perform as much as I used to because as I progress with my education I’m focusing more on the stuff I can use to pad my resumes for college and stuff but I still love going to see productions. One of the worst parts of the pandemic for me has been not being able to go see shows, I miss it so much.

Warnings: theatre enthusiast reader, erections, suggestive material, song lyrics, slight teasing, wearing very little clothing in front of an audience, I believe that that is it

Masterlist

500 follower celebration

antici-

The magic of the stage was second to none. Sure, Hogwarts may have had witches and wizards, subjects like Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and ghosts that spent their time meandering about the halls but there was always a part of you that looked forward to the summer between your years at Hogwarts. Because no matter how magical Hogwarts was, the theater always made you feel completely and utterly alive. 

Every summer since the one after your first year at what all of your muggle friends thought to be a very prestigious boarding school up in Scotland, you’d taken part in your local youth theater’s productions. Your parents both being muggles thought that it would be a great way for you to be able to stay in touch with your muggle origins. 

The first year you’d been far too nervous to actually audition for a role, the very thought causing bile to churn in your stomach and threaten to make you sick all over your kitchen floor when your father first pitched the idea. So instead you’d done costumes and it was the most wonderful experience of your life. 

Who needed drugs when you had live theater? The hustle and bustle behind the scenes was electrifying but after two summers of costuming, of quick changes in the wings, learning how to use the ancient sewing machines they stored in the depths of the storage rooms, and pulling pieces for the actors to try on you decided that you wanted to try something more.

The moment you had stepped onto the stage it was like you’d come to life and you cursed yourself for not taking the risk earlier. You belonged on the stage, with the harsh stage lights on you and pounds of makeup plastered onto your face you could feel the magic thrumming through your veins and it was addicting.

If it was possible, you were even more excited to perform this summer, the previous school year you’d finally gotten together with your long time best friends the Marauders, turning them from friends to your boyfriends.

When your mother had sent word of the production being put on this summer you’d squealed while seated next to James and across from Remus, who had Sirius hanging off of his side. After explaining to them, mostly Sirius and James really, just what live theater was their first reaction was to ask if they could come see you perform.

“I don’t even know if I’m going to be cast,” You had explained gently, not wanting to get their hopes up in case you weren’t cast this year.

“Bull shit of course you’re going to be the cast,” Sirius had contested through a mouthful of jam and toast, waving his hand theatrically through the air, watching him that day was not the first time you’d considered how the way he acted often reminded you of an over enthusiastic theatre major.

Remus, the only one with any knowledge on muggle theatre had snorted, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist to pull him closer to his body, “She’s not going to be the cast Pads, she’s going to be casted,” He’d corrected gently, pressing a kiss into his long, dark tresses.

“Whatever,” The smaller boy had grumbled, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

Which brought you to where you were right now, five minutes to curtain touching up your make up in the mirror of the shared make-up room.

“Hey (L/N),” One of your cast mates called settling into the makeup chair next to you as she plucked a tube of dark red lipstick from the small canary colored makeup bag she had previously abandoned on the counter, “Your boyfriends coming tonight?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah, they are,” You responded, applying mascara to your lashes.

“Excited to meet them, that photo you showed us,” She smiled, fanning her face with her hand, “Smoking,” She smiled, making eye contact with you in the mirror.

Rolling your eyes you ignored her comment, “It’s five minutes to curtain, you’re just now doing your make-up?” You chuckled, noticing her black face.

“Oh, shove it,” She laughed as you pushed yourself from your chair, traipsing out of the room, giving her the middle finger on your way out.

“Break a leg!” She called after you as the door latched shut.

You weren’t usually this nervous before a performance but knowing that your three boyfriends were sitting out there somewhere in the audience had you pacing back and forth backstage wondering what they were going to think of the whole production.

“Rocky Horror?” Sirius’ confusion evident in his voice as he plopped down in his seat next to Remus, throwing his arm around the werewolf’s shoulders, drumming his fingers on his clothed shoulder hidden behind his knitted cardigan.

“Yeah,” James collapsed into his chair on the other side of Remus, tucking one leg under his body, “No clue what it’s about but I’m sure our angel will be wonderful. Can you guys see her?” He straightened himself up in his seat, craning his neck in attempts to catch a glimpse of you.

Remus being the only one with any ties to the muggle world knew a bit about the show and had to do his very best to suppress a smirk from overtaking his face as he knew exactly what he and your other two boyfriends were getting themselves into. 

“Just hush up you two, the show’s gonna start any moment,” He scolded, patting his large, scarred hand on James’ thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Rem,” Sirius whined, puckering his lips and closing his eyes, signaling to his boyfriend that he wanted a kiss.

“My needy baby,” He crooned, leaning in to connect his lips with Sirius’ in a quick liplock before pulling back, allowing Sirius to drop his forehead to smear against his shoulder.

“That’s mean,” Sirius murmured discontentedly.

“Poor baby Pads,” James cooed mockingly.

“Both of you,” Remus hissed as the lights in the theatre dimmed, “The show’s about to start, be good for me and be quiet yeah?”

Their response came in their silence as the crowd started settling down and the music from the orchestra pit began a voice coming from somewhere out of sight as it was played through the speakers,

“Michael Rennie was ill

The day the earth stood still

But he told us where we stand”

Not 20 minutes into the show all three of them were as hard as rocks, James had already made Remus check the playbill for the name of the character you were playing, not being able to remember what you’d told them as all of his concentration was focused on a certain place.

Janet Weiss.

Remus couldn’t remember either, but he was almost certain that’s the name he could make out in the dark theatre, printed next to a picture of your smiling face.

When you’d stripped down to your underwear the boys could barely focus on the plot line of the show, only being able to watch the way your bare skin shone under the harsh light of the spotlights. Watching as sweat glistened on your skin, making you shine as you moved about the stage. 

Enchanted by the melodic cadence of your voice they all felt a certain jealousy burning deep in the pits on their stomachs at the thought that there were dozens of other people packed into that theater, all observing you in your vulnerable state of under dress. Only they got to see you like that.

Sirius missed much of the first act glaring at members of the audience who he deemed as looking at you for too long for his liking, but if you were being honest a 4th year smiling at you in the hallway was sometimes too long for his liking.

It wasn’t like any of them had never seen you naked before, in fact they’d all seen you naked more than their fair share of times but something about you on that stage in a white bra with a matching slip was driving them all crazy.

Especially Remus, whose ultimate weakness was seeing you in anything white which was one of the reasons you’d been so excited to invite them in the first place, knowing that they would be horny messes the entire time.

On stage you did your very best not to look out into the audience looking for them, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to stop a ginormous grin from forming on your face and you couldn’t afford to break character. Not if you wanted the night to go your way.

As the opening notes to “Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me”, rose from the orchestra pit you had trouble stopping a small smirk from pulling at your lips as you opened them, inhaling deeply before singing the first words of the song,

“I was feeling done in, couldn't win

I'd only ever kissed before”

Despite yourself you caught a glimpse of long dark hair in the audience, quickly taking a glance at Sirius’ face, eyes glazed over in lust, legs shifting uncomfortably with his mouth hanging wide open. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed another raven-haired boy’s mouth dropping as you shrugged off of your robe

“I thought there’s no use getting, into heavy petting

It only leads to trouble and, seat wetting

Now all I want to know, is how to go

I've tasted blood and I want more”

It was impossible to miss the way Remus’ jaw clenched as you laid your palm against Rocky’s chest, he was being played by your good friends who’d been working with the same theatre company as you since forever, he was like a brother to you. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t lay it on extra thick tonight with your boyfriends in the audience.

Tracing a dainty finger down Rocky’s chest you pushed your body against his singing out the next lyrics of the song,

“I've got an itch to scratch, I need assistance”

You turned you and your cast mate so that looking over his shoulder you were able to meet Remus’ eye, sending him a quick wink before focusing back in on Rocky.

“Toucha, toucha, toucha, touch me

I wanna be dirty

Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me

Creature of the night”

Pressing your back up against Rocky’s chest you guided his hands with yours to your breasts, squeezing them as you followed the choreography you knew by heart.

You ripped your slip from your body with the help of Rocky leaving you in only your white bra, matching panties and a pair of small heels as you paraded around stage, belting the suggestive lyrics into the theater.

“Then if anything grows, while you pose

I'll oil you up and rub you down (down, down, down)

And that’s just one small fraction, of the main attraction

You need a friendly hand, oh i need action”

You smirked, thinking about all of the action you’d be on the receiving end of later that night as you sunk to your knees in front of Rocky, your hands grasping his thighs. Deciding to tease them perhaps a little more than necessary as you went through the number, curling your leg around his and pressing your bodies together so that there was no space between your two questionably clothed bodies.

As the number was brought to a close it was impossible for you to ignore the excitement bubbling up inside of you as you continued your way through the show you kept throwing glances at your boyfriends, always finding their eyes already trained on you. More often than not, on some body part other than your face.

If your boyfriends thought that they had a bit of a problem before that song they were in a terrible predicament now.

Remus caught Sirius on multiple occasions trying to move the hand that he was holding to grope at his crotch as he tried to buck up into his boyfriend’s hand. And much to his own dismay, Remus would pull his hand away, thinking it probably wasn’t the best idea to give his boyfriend a hand job in a crowded theater. Knowing that he wouldn’t have to worry about James touching himself because he would never dream of disobeying him, Remus divided his attention between you on the stage and keeping Sirius in check.

Each of the boys were counting down the seconds until the show came to an end and they could get out of there and relieve some of their tension.  As the curtains were pulled closed they all breathed a sigh of relief before they reopened, leaving all three of them bewildered and slightly annoyed, even more so when they noticed everyone around them standing as they applauded the actors.

Remus forced both of them up when you rushed to the front of the stage, curtsying as the crowd went wild, your boyfriends most notably. As you took your bow you blew a kiss to your boyfriends taking note of the uncomfortable way they all stood, trying to adjust their erections to make them less noticeable while simultaneously applauding you.

As you cleared the stage after curtain call you took your time, doddling towards the dressing rooms where you had left the clothes you’d arrived at the theater in along with a special outfit you’d brought for after the show. Usually you were one of the first actors to clear the theater after a show but tonight you took your time. Hanging up your costume with more care than anyone really should treat any garment with and certainly more than what it needed. 

You smirked mischievously as you pulled the you’d brought outfit from your bag and shimmied it up your legs before slipping the delicate straps up your shoulders. You glimpsed yourself in the mirror, the red satin of the dress clinging to your curves in an attractive manner, short enough to display miles of legs and low cut enough to show off a decent amount of cleavage and perhaps a sighting of the matching red bra you were wearing beneath it.

Slinging the back of your black heels over the heel of your feet you snatched your purse from the armchair in your dressing room before striding out to go meet your boyfriends in the lobby, where you’d told them to wait for you.

Their heads all turned as they heard the clacking of your heels against the tile of the floor, “Boys,” You greeted as they unabashedly took in your new appearance.

As he most often was, Remus was the first one to collect himself, “Puppy, you were wonderful,” He praised, walking to meet you as you approached him, leaning down to smear a kiss against your cheek, “You did amazing up there, so proud of you,” He threw his arm around your waist as you walked towards Sirius and James.

“We got something for you,” He explained, his grip on your waist tightening, “Jamie give it to her, yeah?” 

“Oh yeah,” The smaller boy grinned, remembering the bouquet he held cradled in his arms as he handed it over to you, “Here you go angel.”

“Thank you Jamie,” You said as you took it from him, closing your eyes as you buried your nose in the sweet smelling flora. As you opened your eyes you made eye contact with Sirius, who stood across from you, practically drooling as he took in your appearance without any shame, “They smell wonderful.”

“You okay Si?” You asked, looking up through your eyelashes, batting them innocently.

“Like you don’t know exactly what you did up there to us (Y/N/N),” Remus whispered in your ear, pressing his nose into your temple.

“You guys are the ones who wanted to come,” You lilted, rubbing one of the velvety petals between the pads of your thumb and forefinger.

“Could’ve warned us,” James mumbled, his eyes not leaving your thighs as he licked his lips, if it were anyone else you would’ve been uncomfortable but you couldn’t help but feel flattered whenever any of them ogled you. 

“And what’s with the dress Pup?” Sirius nodded his head appreciatively towards your dress, obviously admiring the way it hung on your body.

“What, you don’t like it?” You asked with fake hurt in your voice, knowing that he more than liked it, he fucking loved it. 

“S’not that,” Remus mumbled, nosing at your jugular, “Just that whole show, got us a little bit worked up. We didn’t expect it to be so sexual Puppy,” He nodded towards James and that’s when you noticed the erection he was still sporting. 

“Got us really worked up, can we go home now?” James asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying to distract himself from his little problem.

“Jamie,” You whined, smiling wickedly, “I wanted to celebrate, I was thinking we could go eat somewhere, I was thinking maybe Thai food?”

You watched as Sirius ground his teeth, conflicted between needing to get home and not wanting to deny you from what you wanted. 

“Having fun teasing us Bunny?” Remus asked you with a sly smirk, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“M’not teasing,” You insisted, turning indignantly to your other boyfriend.

“Sure you aren’t,” He chuckled, “Thai sounds great (Y/N), wanna talk with you about the show,” The idea of teasing Sirius and James even longer was very appealing to Remus and he was ready to make the sacrifice of being teased himself, knowing that he’d be able to get back at you later that night.

“But-” James began.

“You wanna argue with me Jamie?” Remus challenged, raising a singular eyebrow.

“No,” He moped, “Of course not.”

“Good,” Remus said, nodding his head approvingly, “We wouldn’t wanna deny our Princess would we?”

James shook his head, eyes pleading, desperately seeking Remus’ approval.

“Pads?” Remus challenged, turning his attention to the other raven haired man.

“What? Oh um, of course not,” He agreed distractedly, dragging his eyes from your form to meet Remus’, his reluctance evident in his voice.

“Good,” Remus said pointedly, his eyes cold, daring Sirius to question him. When he didn’t the werewolf continued, “Let’s get going then, there’s a nice little restaurant a couple blocks away yeah?”

As you all hummed your consent you made your way to the exit, “Ten galleons if you can make James cum in his pants at dinner,” Remus whispered in your ear quietly enough so that  James and Sirius trailing behind you wouldn’t be able to hear you, you could hear the smirk in his voice as you exited the theatre.

“Deal.” This was going to be fun, you considered that you might have to invite them to come see the show again.

-pation

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete