#*tap dances in a circle singing* Everything sucks!

[noctomania]

i'm so exhausted by this stupid fucking department of ed bullshit that every time something new comes into my mailbox im already on the verge of tears. they have fully broken me at this point it feels like psychological warfare (im not trying to make light, im just saying it literally feels like they are fucking with me on purpose). They keep changing shit and putting me on forbearance i never requested and making such that its going to take longer than it should for me to finish this fucking bullshit so i can get started on my actual life and stop having to live the life other people chose for me.

[writingbynova]

Nanami Kento

★. ★. ★. ★. ★. ★. ★. ★.

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ⊹ : pwp (porn with plot) - mdni - Nanami x fem!reader - rough sex- overstimulation - cowgirl - mating press - oral(fem receiving) - mind breaking - dirty talk - stress relief

Word count: ~1.6k

Some just sleep, some others drink, some have an activity like running, dancing, singing, baking. But when there's nothing to lift off the stress that's been weighting on your shoulders, Kento's pretty quick at finding a solution, sure you won't be able to walk but you won't be stressed right?

He notices. How low you've been these past few days. The work load your boss has been putting on you is severely messing with your mental health and he won't let it happen.

After, yet another night of you coming home late, completely soaked by the rain, he just knew. You were starting to burn out. Starting to break. He could see it in your eyes. A different glow. One that screamed "help".

He just knew. the way you stumbled across the living room to flop down on the couch, you hadn't gotten lunch. The way you groaned as soon as you hit the pillow, you had a headache. The way you snuggled between his arms, you needed love. 

You needed messy raw sex that'd break you so bad you wouldn't even remember you had a 'job'. What's that even ?

Oh and he'd gladly give it to you. It doesn't take much time. His eyes dive into yours, he smells so good, so good you're stretching for just a little taste of his lips and then y'all will get dinner and go to bed but oh his lips feel so soft.

But then again it isn't enough and he knows it. You're slowly tugging on his clothes, leaning in deeper into the kiss that turns sloppy. Indirectly crying for him to take care of you. His arms wrap below your thighs and he carries you to the bedroom. Dinner's gonna have to wait

Just as your back touches the soft mattress and you realize how long it's been since you hadn't done this. His touch gets a tad rougher, sexier. Easily sliding down your pants, then your panties. Barely any words are spoken but the pure look in his eyes already tells you everything you need to know. He's about to go off.

He leans in to kiss your neck, his hands run along the curves of your body before settling respectively for your hand your tits. His hand grope your chest, rolling your nipple between his fingers while he run his other hand between you thighs, sliding his fingers up and down your wet slit.

You bite your lip at the sensation, your breath hitching getting heavier. He's collecting all your juices on his fingers, slowly prepping you. He slides down and trails kisses down your body until his face takes place right between you thighs "K-Kento" you mumble, already feeling yourself turmoil at the thought of him eating you out.

"Just relax Honey" he breathes before you feel his tongue, flattening on your lips. "So fuckin' good" Your insides immediately going off, throbbing in excitement. He starts off by a few kisses before he starts licking and sucking at your entrance, your hips bucking and thighs shaking around his face. Eager for more. You're mixed with so much pleasure already struggling to think clearly, thoughts rushing within your head.

You're moaning his name like a mantra. His tongue slides up to your bud, circling his tongue around it, his fingers slide in your opening, stretching and spreading against your tender walls, his eyes locked on your features watching you cum on him. So pretty...but not yet broken

His body creeps back over you, his muscular figure towering over yours. His cock tapping on your clit before slowly disappearing in you. His scent embalming you. His warmth diffusing itself through your body, you grip onto his body. Soft whines escaping your lips.

His pace gently picked up, his hands wrapped around your hips, pulling you down onto him. "Feels nice huh ? Just you wait, ah 'm so not done with you" he groaned. Slightly lifting your lower back off the bed, his hips rutted into you, deeper. It felt so much deeper. You threw your head back, your hands were pulling the sheets. You were throbbing and tightening around him, feeling your climax hit you. Fuck he was good. He leaned into you, pounding incredibly harder into you as you felt his hot semen leaking in you.

He leaned again to kiss you, his cock dragging itself back in you. You moaned into the kiss while his tongue chased after yours. He pushed your thighs up, folding them over your chest. The way you pussy was perfectly propped up for him, all ready for him to completely ravage. If you expected him to be nice you were definitely in the wrong spot

Your whines resonated within the room along with the 'Smack ! Smack ! Smack !' sound his dick made slamming in and out of you, your body felt so much more vulnerable, with each breath you had, his grunts grew heavier and his thrusts meaner. Pounding harder into you, making you lose your mind.

"Ahh! Deep! S' deep, too much Ken" you cried. His moves got you weak, in the body in the head in the face. Watching your eyes roll back had him growing bigger in you, "told you ah- I'd ruin you" you could feel your control slipping between your fingers, your body occasionally going limp then tensing up.

"That's it baby, let all the stress wash away, just give in. I'll take good care of you". He cooed.  His voice was soothing, manipulating you into peace. You nodded frantically, right in rythme with his thrusts. "Ah ah ah ah !" You repeated, shaking.

It took only a few more hip breaking thrusts for you to actually listen, or more like submit to him. Your arms and legs gave up, you entire body did, the only things you managed to realize was how hard you were cumming. Your muscles spasming occasionally with the hits he was giving your cervix. Oh you'd be bruised. Definitely

Of course it made him happy, delighted even. To see his cute stressed wife finally relax, finally letting go of all the work load weighing on her. Pure fucking happiness that only enticed him into breaking you more. He knew you couldn't ride, he knew you were currently too weak to do it. There was the fun. "Don't you worry honey, when I'm done with you you won't even be able to walk, talk-less of going to work" your brain registered his words, but you only stared at him, huffing and puffing, puppy eyes staring into his. It's like you were begging for it.

He was holding you like a fragile object but treating you like his fuck doll. More like fuck doll when he spun you on top. "Go ahead honey, fuck yourself brainless like the good cock-starved doll you are" his words made you heat up, you'd whole body reacted to his words. You eyes avoiding him, your face burning, your pussy's the one who gave it out tho, fluttering hungrily with anticipation.

You were barely stable on his cock relying on your sore thighs to keep yourself up. Your back arching itself immediately. His tip felt too deep, like he was pressing over you cervix, ripping broken moans from your throat. It felt too good exceptionally too good.

You could hardly articulate his name, "P-please f-fuckkkkk K-Kento" you cried, his hands lifting you up to rock you up and down his girth, your sticky fluids coating his cock. "Don't think Darling, don't let thoughts bother you okay ? you're taking it so well fuckkkk, such a good girl, 'm gonna cum so hard" he groaned controlling your hips.

You clenched tightly around him resting your hands on his chest, like the princess you were, and od course he did the rest of the work, you had done enough overtime for that matter. Your head laid on his shoulder. His feet planted into the bed, and you definitely felt him growing bigger. How come though ?

His hips banged into you, snapping you out of whatever reverie you had fell in. Making your eyes roll back, it felt so blissful so good, so good you nails only dug in his back before you could cry out a pathetic "c-cumming !"

Your body felt heavy, so heavy you had to lay in arms. His hips still bumping you full of his cock, the sounds of his grunts and the smacking of you ass on his thighs melting in your brain. Bullying yet another climax out of you, your loud whimpers were different, adorned with a high pitched pathetic tint.

Your body didn't jolt or tense up no you just, fell all soft in his hold. Your climax overwhelming your entire body. You felt your fluids dribble down his shaft, dropping onto the bed sheets.

You couldn't care less though. You didn't have the strength to think, barely the one to speak. Your head rested on his chest while you slowly regained your breath listening to his heartbeat.

It felt so good actually, so good you didn't catch yourself rocking your hips round and round fringing for another orgasm. "That's it, cum some more honey" your body writhed against him. Lifing yourself up and down his girth again. Relishing in your own cries of overstimulation. Tears blurring your eyes.

But he always had the last word. Well move in this case. His thumb slid down to your opening settling for your abandoned clit, rubbing and teasing the bud. "Ah ! Ngh~ Kento—" you cried, cumming again around his shaft, you stays again at the bass of his cock, taking him fully. He felt everywhere, invading you. Your pussy creaming him.

Your squeezing alone was enough, and had him shooting thick ropes of cum, deep inside you, gently groaning your name. Now you actually laid into his chest, settling between his pecs, letting his pats rock you asleep.

-"Honey ?"

-"mhm"

-"What was stressing you out about work ?"

Your thoughts wandered off slowly, trying to find the answer" but truly you were leaving, for a nice nap in his arms comfortably wrapping you.

"Dunno anymore" you mumbled, drifting asleep. He chuckled

Best stress relief.

————————————————————————

Ty for reading (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

[littlefireball]

Hongjoong stress reliever. He's producing a song in the hotel during their tour and is stressed because of 'producers block'?'

ʜᴊ|ʀᴇᴄᴏʀ���ɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ (ᴍ)

ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ x ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴏʀᴀʟ|ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙᴇɴᴇꜰɪᴛꜱ|ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2ᴋ

Masterlist

You find yourself questioning your decision to accompany them to North America, a place that feels entirely foreign to you. It's puzzling, especially since you're torn about why you continue to follow Hongjoong, despite your desire to end this complicated relationship. Your friendship dates back to high school, and your feelings for him are undeniable. Yet, he seems to sidestep the truth, or perhaps he's completely oblivious to how you truly feel.

There's nothing to scold. You are the one choosing to sign the agreement and offer your body; he isn't coercing you in any way. If you feel the need to assign blame, direct it towards yourself for having such strong feelings for him, even entertaining the fantasy of being his girlfriend.

You know this cannot be real.

A ringtone stops your thinking and you pick up the phone, Hongjoong's nervous voice rings in your ears.

"Y/N, where are you?"

"Cafe."

"Can you come to help me?" You feel a wave of uncertainty wash over you as you muster the strength to turn him down, planning to return home the following day. "Y/N?Are you okay?"

"Hongjoong, I have something to tell you…"

"Maybe after you come to my room? Please?"

"Okay…" With a heavy sigh, you realize that your courage is faltering, yet you resolve to bring this chapter to a close after your encounter with him.

—--

Hongjoong looks at the screen with countless sighs. He is stressful. Producing a song during a tour is more challenging than often, especially because he is tired due to long hours of dancing and singing.

He's in desperate need of a way to unwind, and you're the sole person who can provide that relief. You are his remedy, his entire world. Unbeknownst to him, he craves your soothing presence far more than he acknowledges, mistaking it for nothing more than his dreadful lust. At times, he feels a deep-seated shame for his insatiable urges, often finding solace in the intimacy you share. He never intended to use you, yet he finds himself unable to resist.

"Fuck…it is not good enough. The rhythm is weird…" He murmurs, the anticipation of your return from the café feels like a slow torment. Suddenly, the doorbell chimes, a sound like a beacon of hope, prompting Hongjoong to dash forward and fling the door wide open.

"Y/N, you're here." He pounces onto you without a second thought, making you back off as you lose balance. "Wait, Hongjoong." He silences your words by cupping your face, closing the gap to plant a kiss on your lips. Again, you melt in his kisses, you should push him away though. With a smooth sway, he lays you back against the bed and slides his hand to the hem of your dress, pulling it upward to drop a kiss on your stomach.

"Why so intense, Y/N?" "I…I…oh fuck!" As you are about to tell him to stop, his hand rubs against your clothed clit, moving up and down while giving a hard press on your sensitive spot. "See, you're so wet. Want me to eat you out? Huh?" His finger circles along your curve, tapping your clit before pulling away the hem. His breath pools against your soaked core when he is diving between your thighs, planting a kiss to make you whine.

"Sweet as always." Hongjoong has always been talkative during sex as he loves how you get shy because of his dirty words, or I should say, he is obsessed. His tongue licks from the bottom to the top, making sure to reach everywhere he can find. Everything is too slow for your liking, you need him faster. But before you let out a whimper, he sucks on your bud and taps it with his tongue at a fast pace. "Hongjoong!!" "Feel good?" He whispers against your skin before leaning back, continuing to eat you out like a staved man.

You raise your legs in the air as he pushes your thighs close to your chest, your hands find their way on his hair. His face is almost sunk into your crotch and you can only see his head moving up and down. He leaves a trail of kisses before sucking hard on your bud, making you catch your breath. "Jjong, I can't. Oh fuck." "Just cum on my face, I want to taste you." His words totally make you mess and bring you to the climax, coming on his face even dripping onto the sheet.

Not waiting for you to calm down from the excitement, he is already pulled off his pants and wrapped up a condom. "Good for me, Y/N." He bends down, his lips brushing against yours, inviting you to savor the essence of yourself as his tongue dances in. This kiss transcends mere desire; it is infused with warmth, tenderness, and a sense of peace. As you connect, memories surge forth, illuminating the beauty of shared experiences and treasured times together. In this moment, you find solace in each other's presence, navigating the complexities of emotions—anger and joy intertwining—proving that your bond has evolved far beyond mere friendship.

He guides his member to your entrance and you moan in his mouth when he eases into you. Stared at a slow pace, he then thrusts faster as your wall drives him crazy. You wall tightens around his cock to pull him deeper, carving him to fill you full. His lips dance down your jaw, caressing your neck and finally resting on your collarbone, relishing the vivid mark he leaves with pride. "Jjong…what if others notice it?" you murmur, a twinge of anxiety creeping in. "It doesn't matter," he asserts, unwavering. "It does matter," you counter. He hesitates, his gaze locking onto yours, confusion flickering in his eyes before he brushes it aside. "Fine then. That's our pact." Yes, a pact—how could you ever forget? It's a stark reminder that the connection between you two hinges on this agreement. If you were to break it, there would be no way to return.

"Jjong…jjong…" He appears to be growing increasingly agitated, quickening his pace and becoming more forceful. Your thighs are drawn up against your chest, firmly held in his grip as he uses them for balance. Clear red marks leaves on your skin, sweating all over the body, you cry out and he fucks you extremely fast. His ball hits your ass each time he roughly shoves into you. "Too…too much…ah…" "Just hold on, I'm close." Hongjoong chases his pace by rapid thrusting, making a long throaty moan flying out from your lips.

"That's what I want, I love your voice, Y/N. Moan louder for me." Your head spins in pleasure but also a slight pain. You obey his words and moan so loud that others must hear when they pass by the room. And Hongjoong, almost reaches his peak, letting a high-pitched and choppy moan while his cock twitching from excitement. "Oh fuck." A throaty moan leaves his lips as he cums, filling the condom full.

"Damn it. I never came that much before." He throws the condom after withdrawing from you, panting heavily. "Thank you." He plants a kiss on your lips, cuddling with you as if seeking for comfort.

"I've always been so stressful when I'm producing songs but now I feel better. I'm so glad you came with me." He murmurs, nuzzling against your neck.

"But what are we? Hongjoong." You turn around to face him, gazing at his confused look. "We fuck, we cuddle, we kiss, and we still are friends?"

"What're you talking about?" He lets out a nervous chuckle, never expecting why you are asking such a question. "Of course, we are friends. Uh…no…we have an agreement…"

"Enough, Hongjoong." Your words cut him off, making him pause. "I want to end this relationship."

"Why so suddenly? Did I do something wrong to hurt you? I can correct it."

"No, no. You did nothing wrong. I just…" You like him, yah. But you are still not brave enough to tell him.

"Nothing. I just want it to end…" Deep down, you yearn for him to hold onto you, but is that even a possibility?

"Okay, then I don't force you." What? His calmness surprised you, or did you have too many expectations for him?

"I won't force you if you don't like it. After all, you are a girl…and it may not be good for you to have such a relationship…"

"Enough." His voice fades into silence as you rise from the bed, urgency propelling you to collect your belongings. "I have to leave," you declare. Before he can fully process your departure, you rush out of the room, avoiding any glance back, sidestepping the temptation of further connection.

"Hey, y/n!"

—-------

The weight of the past has lifted, but fresh burdens are on the horizon. That night, he toiled away, losing himself in his work until dawn broke. It was the only way he could push thoughts of you aside. Though he crafted a beautiful song, the warmth of your relationship turned to ice in an instant. He had expected you to reach out to him within a few days, as you always did, but this time was different. Instead, it felt as if you had vanished from his life entirely. His calls went unanswered, and his messages fell into the void, blocked by you. It was as if you were determined to sever all ties with him.

"What the? Hyung, you said this to her?" Wooyoung almost shouted out. "Shh, don't be too loud." Seonghwa pats his shoulder and reminds him to be quiet.

"So she leaves you without any doubts."

"What?I…"

"Listen to me, hyung. What she wants is for you to ask her to stay but not 'okay, you can leave'." Wooyoung remarks, his pitch becomes higher.

"What?I already said 'you can stay if you're tired' every time, apart from that day..."

"C'mon. Why can't you understand?" Wooyoung is almost bursted out. "She likes you, not as a friend, but a girlfriend, okay?"

"Like me??"

"Can't you feel it?"

"I…" He fumbles over his words, chastising himself for his foolishness in love. Intelligent in many ways, he feels lost when it comes to matters of the heart. "I'm such an idiot, damn it," he mutters, a wave of regret crashing over him as he recalls the hurtful things he said to you that night. The memory stings, knowing it must have driven you to leave for Korea without a moment's hesitation.

"Just go to find her after we go back to Korea." Seonghwa comforts, his voice soft. "Please don't say anything harsh. I don't want to lose my sister-in-law." Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

"Just wait for our wedding drink, you asshole."

—----

Once the tour wrapped up, they returned to Korea, and Hongjoong wasted no time in searching for you the very next morning. As anticipated, you weren't at home, so he made his way to your favorite café. This was the place you always turned to whenever you felt down, where you would order your beloved coffee. It was a comforting constant that had remained unchanged since your high school days.

But what he sees once he steps in the cafe makes him burst out─a man is flirting with you.

"May I…" "No. She is dating me and she doesn't like Americano. It's too bitter for her." Hongjoong's sudden appearance catches you both off guard, leaving you silent in shock and the man walks away.

"Why are you here?" "The tour ends and I come back." He naturally takes a sip from your drink, sitting across from you.

"No. I mean why do you come to the cafe?" You counter.

"I came here to find my girlfriend." He presses the issue, a warm flush rising to your cheeks.

"Then it's not my business." You snatch the coffee from his grasp, deliberately steering clear of his eyes.

"Is that so? But the girl you also know or I should say, you are the one who knows her the most." With a slow, deliberate sweep, you take him in from head to toe before titling your head. "Aren't you curious?"

"No." "But what if the girl's name is Y/N." He holds your hand tight, making you shy even though it is not your first time.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm terrible on that day. I should have found out earlier but not regretted it after you left me." His confession makes tears welling up in your eyes, but that is delightful. "I can't live without you. You are my everything, Y/N. Can you stay with me? Not as a friend but as my girlfriend." Tears drop down as you blink, a small smile plays on your lips.

"But what about the agreement?"

"Fuck the agreement." He cradles your face gently, drawing you in for a fervent kiss. At last, the two of you have embraced the truth of your feelings for one another.

[laketaj24]

Marked

Author’s Note: Hey! This piece was requested, and I decided to make it a few parts. So here is the first, and this part is based on one of my favorite songs, Slow Dancing in a Parking Lot. I really like hometown, slow country ass romances lol. So this is what I am giving you! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy Reading! (My taglists and requests are open!)

Warnings: Public Sex, Fluff, Language, Dubcon, OMEGAVERSE

Pairings: Alpha!Henry Cavill x Omega!Reader

M A S T E R L I S T

“Hi.” You waved at your new neighbor. The small family of four seen you a total of seven times and still had not introduced themselves once. Where was the small-town charm you’d seen in all those movies?

The man looked to you first, tall and muscled he waved. “Good morning!”

“Morning!” You yipped, finally, some interaction. “Your family is beautiful.” Those were the only words that you could think of besides saying something about the weather.

“Thank you, how are you liking Longview?”

“Love it.” You lied. It had been two weeks, you’d left the house a total of three times and each time you got lost. “It’s beautiful here.”

The drizzle of rain started overhead, it always rained in Washington, maybe that’s why you stayed in all those days without hesitation. It was sunnier in Southern California, and there was always something to do, here it was the opposite.

“That’s wonderful,” he yelled before ducking into his blue minivan. Your neighbor waved quickly as he backed out of his driveway and onto the road.

The family next door was the only one for about five miles, besides the one across the street, and he never really made an appearance other than coming home from work. You liked to people watch, it was easy to do when there were only two houses to watch. You made your way back into the house, nursing the warm cup of coffee.

When you moved here, you were no stranger to the place. Summers had been spent here with your uncle, sometimes holidays, and upon his death, you inherited the house that gave you some of your fondest memories. Building a life here was what you were intended to do, and you didn’t really have a choice, it had all fell apart everywhere else you went. This inheritance was your one get of jail free card, and it came right on time.

Longview didn’t hold much, two grocery stores on each side of the town, one bookstore, three churches, and one bar called the Sly Tree. These things you’d remembered because they held an interest and you had planned to visit them all. Tonight it was Sly Tree.

 The yellow crop top looked good against your honey-colored skin and with the slight inch of your mid-drift showing it gave the illusion that you were a good girl who’d come to play, or at least that's what you wanted it to mean. Who knew if they took it that way, you sat at the bar. There were a few more people in the place, but none that piqued your interest. The bartender tapped your glass. “Refill?”

“I can’t.” you shook your head, there was no hope of you getting home safely with another drink in your system. “But thank you.”

“You moved into Harper’s old place?”

“Yes, he was muy uncle.”

“Good guy, he always came in here on Sunday’s spreading lies about wolves.” The bartender was friendly enough, the cute smile and wide eyes caught your attention, but he was young.

“He told me about those damn wolves.” You giggled. They were all around the property. Hence the reason you opted to not have a dog, coming home to a missing dog was not your intention.

“crazy man, good, though.” He handed you a sprite. “Drink this.”

“Thank you... what’s your name?”

“Cody.”

“Nice to meet you, Cody, is there anything fun to do around here?”

“A few towns over, maybe.” He shrugged a matter of fact and exhaled. “Hunting is pretty cool, though? You should come in one day?”

“I’m certain she doesn’t mean killing deer.” The smooth voice came from the right of you, the familiar face of your quiet neighbor actually brought some light to your life. Maybe you wouldn’t have to feel alone after all.

“Hey.”

“Hey, neighbor,” he smirked. “A beer, please.”

You’d never talked to him, only observed from afar, and there was much to observe. He was tall, strapping with broad shoulders, a body that made you think unsavory things and, unlike the family man across the yard, unattached. “So, you do know that I’m there?”

“How could I not?”

“You never speak.”

“Haven’t had the opportunity.”

“Opportunities have been available, Cavill.” You said his last name thinking of the gray mailbox it was engraved in.

“Hmmm.” He placed the bottle cap of the beer on the table and took a swig of the beer. “You like to hide in that house of yours, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“I’m Henry, and if I am not mistaken, you’re Y/N.” Henry swiveled in his chair to face you. “Your uncle spoke highly of you.”

“That’s good to know.”

“So, you’re in a bar on a Wednesday at eight, cabin fever must’ve set in?”

“It did.”

His car smelled of cedar, and you loved it. You sunk back in the passenger seat and kicked your feet up on his dashboard. The small city passed by, and for once in your unsettled roused life, you felt at ease. There was only one red light but about five intersections that lead you in a circle.

“Where are you from?” Henry asked with his arm hanging out of the window, his fingers waving as the window passed through them. “Technically, I’m from Georgia, but I lived in California for almost four years.”

“So. Cal?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I didn’t.” he laughed. “But I’ve always wanted to use that abbreviation.”

“Good sentence, no one calls it that by the way.”

“Then how was it a good sentence.”

“I just didn’t want to diss you all the way.”

“Ah, the courtesy country girl, I lucked out.”

“Thank you.” You bit your lip. “You go to the gym often?”

“Never.” Henry laughed. “I run and lift trees.”

“All this comes from that?” It was impossible not to touch his arms, they looked terrific through the tight-fitting grey shirt.

“Five years of it, yes.”

“I guess I lucked out.” You whispered with a small grin on your face. “Where are we headed?”

“Right over there.” He pointed to the grocery store parking lot, and the car headed that way. You had never been parking, but you’d heard of it just not in a place this obvious.

“There are no lights in that parking lot.” You chuckled. “Choosing dim-lit places like this on purpose?”

“Definitely.” the half cocky answer was coated with sarcasm. Henry didn’t seem like that type. He parked the car and turned the music down. “Now, you tell me one of your favorite songs.”

“Does it have to be fast?”

“It’s totally up to you.”

“I’m drawing a blank here,” I said after a few seconds.

“I’ll pick one, you keep thinking.” He strolled through his phone, and then the slow music came through the speakers. henry climbed out of the truck, walked over to your side, and opened the door. “Dance?” He asked.

“I suck at it.”

“Good, I don’t have to whip out my Footloose moves.” He winked as he helped you from the truck into his hands. Sweet guys like him never seemed to come your way, not in Georgia, California, or any of the other places you’d been. He was novel.

He moved as if he actually could dance, pulling you against his chest and swaying playfully to the music. The song was lulling, complementing the atmosphere of the night.

“So, where’s your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?”

“Someone as perfect as you have to be in a longterm relationship contemplating marriage.”

He laughed, shaking his head, his eyes flickering amber in the light for a moment and then back to their normal state. Henry’s fingers intertwined in yours. “I have no one, and if I did... I am certain you’d of seen her by now.”

“Just checking.”

“What else do you want to know?”

“What can you tell me?”

“I drink every Saturday night. I get in lost in the color brown, it’s the prettiest color... Trees, dirt all beauties often overlooked, but they’re the most important ones. I sleep with the air on me. I wake up super early, walk to the river and piss every morning. I like to sing in the shower, but I suck at it. I like you.” The vomit of words was the most alluring thing you’d heard since you came here. Henry twirled you around and pulled you back to him.

“You tell every girl you take home these same lines?”

“Just one.”

“You’re smooth with your lines Henry...”

“I can still break out my footloose moves if you want?”

“No need to...” You smiled. “This is better.”

“Good. I haven’t stretched just yet.”

You shouldn’t have kissed him, your hands shouldn’t be gripping his curls, and you definitely shouldn’t be hoisting yourself upon him, but here you were doing all of it and importantly enjoying it. Your tongue lightly swiped his lips before it was met with his and a small groan. Five hours ago, you met him. You didn’t know his last name or if even shared your beliefs, but you wanted to fuck him.

“How are the public indecency charges around here?” You whispered.

“I haven’t been charged with that one yet.” He carried you to the passenger’s seat.

“There’s a first for everything.”

“I know the sheriff.” he laughed. “I think I can get us out of it.”

Everything was rushed, but it didn’t stop you from deepening the kiss and tugging on his belt buckle.

“You sure you want this?”

You press your palms into the leather seat, and he pulls your pants down to your ankles. “I haven’t been sure of anything else.” You giggle as you rock your hips against him, grinding your mound against his hardened cock. He pushed your panties aside, rubbing the head of his cock against your lips and hoisted you up.

“You’re already wet for me, sweetheart.” he pushed inside of you, throbbing and suppressing a carnal growl.

You sunk your teeth into his shoulder when he pulled you down on his cock and began to fuck you. Then his eyes met yours, and they glowed in the dim light of the parking lot, it was surreal animalistic. “I’ve been thinking about this ever since you moved in...” He fucked harder, bouncing your tits in your bra. “How I wanted to fuck you and make you mine...” he grunted.

Your head fell back in ecstasy, and he rubbed his nose down your face before his tongue licked down your chest.

“Your fucking scent.” He growled, rutting into you. “You don’t even know what you are... sweetheart.”

“What am I?” You whispered.

“Mine.” Henry’s teeth bit into your skin, and you squealed. “Omega.”

His eyes shifted again in the light, and his teeth were still in your flesh.

“Omega?”

Your uncle used to talk of omegas, again when he was drunk... You pull away from him, but he continues to fuck you. “Henry.” You moaned. “Fuck! Henry!” You feel him swell inside of you.

Henry’s bitemark was fresh on your chest as was this inflamed urge to ride him harder, your body willed as if it could not stop. “Feel it.” He commanded. “Your body knows you’re mine too.”

“Ohh, fuck!” He grew bigger, swelling as he thrust faster and then locking into you. “Don’t cu-.”

Henry’s hand clamped down over your mouth, and he shuttered, your body shuttering, joining his climax. The warmth of his cum was soothing, fucking made you want to cum again. “Get dressed.” he kissed your lips. “Now.”

Henry Cavill Taglist: @oddsnendsfanfics​ @taytayize123​  @my-rosegold-soul​ @titty-teetee​ @sparklemichele​ @imgoldielikehawn​ @therandomthoughtsofmsparker​ @therealcalicali​ @rhys108 @shut-up-broccoli​@peculiar-monstar​ @sincerelysinister​ @xxpapasfritasxx​ @brexrif​  @sheismycherry​ @justgrits​  @angelic-kisses13 @ikeepforgettin​ @persephones24​

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[giggly-squiggily]

okay okay so not tickle-related but what do you think senku and gen’s dancing style would be? this was on my mind last night and idk just them remembering some of their fav songs and bopping their heads or snapping their fingers or tapping their feet. I just think these little movements are so cute. we already know gen can sing and nods his head, and senku does this little dance when he’s sucked into his projects. but like what about more prominent dancing??

maybe theyre at a party and gen’s trying to get senku to loosen up and starts doing some really goofy moves. or maybe he’s actually a really good dancer?? I can see him holding senku’s hands and moving them around, and senku’s just lets it happen and maybe gets into it because dancing’s really fun??? and their fingers intertwine and theyre laughing even if some toes get stepped on sometimes. what if they get into a dance off omg, a really bad yet hilarious dance off. I really really want to see that. would they incorporate fortnite dances?????? omg and playful flirting, Im going down a rabbit hole- I need to stop. anyways please tell me your thoughts- and please have a wonderful day <3

Wait a minute- this is so soft? My heart- I just: AHHH! X3

Allow me to paint the scene;

For potential spoiler reasons (Also, this got pretty long, lols), I'm gonna put this under the cut! X3

It's during a village festival. What are they celebrating? Who knows. Prior to Senku showing up, they would make their own music by stomping their feet, clapping hands, and singing their hearts out during festivals.

So, I like to think at some point past the discovery of the CD and Lillian’s song, Senku and friends bring back instruments. Clay flutes, drums, maybe even some brass instruments with the leftover materials they have/found.

So now that the villagers have instruments, eventually they learn to play and now festivals have even greater music potential. This is where the dancing comes in!

Gen is a phenomenal dancer: at least, in his head he is. He loves music and parties, and has the most shameless dancing style when he gets into it. Wine? Doesn't need it. Just give him some music and he's off. Sometimes the village speculates what each dance means as Gen's doing fortnite dances combined with disco moves. They think he's telling a story, while Senku knows full well he's just goofing around.

Senku himself doesn't often let himself dance at first- he's a tad shy about his dancing skills, having never picked any up. He tends to sway in the corner, laughing as everyone around him dances together. Eventually Gen shimmies up to him and grabs his hands, pulling him into the crowd and making him come dance with him. Senku playfully resists at first, but eventually he's dragged in.

Gen by himself was chaotic, but with Senku? He's completely unhinged. New goal: Make Senku laugh so hard he forgets about everything else. He's breaking out all his "best moves", catching everyone's attention and eventually creating a dance circle with villagers cheering him on. Like I said, he's not the best dancer, but where he lacks in skill he makes up for in fun. Popping and locking, breaking out tik tok dances, he get's Ruri involved, lowkey making Chrome jealous (but also in awe cause he loves Ruri and seeing her dance and laugh makes his heart skip).

Senku is gone, leaning onto Kohaku to support himself up as he's laughing his ass off. Eventually he does join in the chaotic dance, unintentionally getting into a dance off with Gen that just raises the village moral by ten billion percent. Everyone is laughing and dancing, mimicking Gen's outrageous dance moves and having a great time.

Eventually, the music takes a more softer turn. Senku is surprised at first- he didn't think the village knew this particular song from his time, until Gen explains he taught them by a special request. Now they are slow dancing, Gen's leading a slightly stumbling Senku, hands firmly on his waist as they sway. Senku's flushed from all the laughter and dancing, and at first doesn't know what to do with his hands. Eventually, Gen just pulls him in and lets the scientist rest his head on his shoulder, humming the long forgotten words to the song as they slowly danced. They step on each other's toes from time to time, but neither notice, lost in their own little world. Senku had never felt happier.

Eventually, time would pass, and the Kingdom of Science would need to get ready for their final fight against the Tsukasa Empire, so dance parties and festivals wouldn't be as often. Just before the big day, Senku would find Gen in the observatory, offer him a hand, and hum the song from the night they danced together, swaying them to and from gently beneath the stars. This time, now they were alone, he'd whisper sweet nothings and words of comfort to the Mentalist, prepping them both up for the big day. Gen would be utterly pleased, even if Senku didn't have the greatest singing voice, or that good of a step. His heart was there, and that's all Gen desired.

AHHH! They would be adorable! Thank you for sharing the idea of them dancing with me! My heart! X3 You have an amazing day too, hon!

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Five Times Colson Baker Almost Kissed You and the One Time He Did

Requested? For someone else maybe (i’m sorry LMAO)

Warnings? None? 

Summary: You and Colson have been best friends for years now and had feelings for each other for what seems like the same amount of time. However, you always seem to be missing out on one another. 

Word Count: 2,902 (it’s so long but I promise it’s worth it)

One

“One hour,” Colson says, trying to convince you. 

“No.” 

“Please? We can get food after,” he begs and you consider it for a moment. 

“Alright.” 

Colson cheers loudly at this, picking you up and spinning you around before throwing you back onto his king-sized bed. He heads to his closet, sorting through his clothes to find something to wear and you roll your eyes at your best friend. 

Colson had been begging you practically all week to go to a party that Pete Davidson was surprisingly throwing. You had always wanted to meet his best friend but had never gotten the time to do so. That was the main reason you said yes to going to the party and the other was Colson was Colson and you couldn’t say no to those big blue eyes.

“One hour,” you tell him when you arrive at the house. 

“One hour,” he repeats pressing a kiss to your cheek before heading into the party. 

You head in slowly, making your way to the drink table first and pouring yourself something before figuring out what to do next. Just as you’re about to walk around in hopes of finding someone you know, you hear someone call your name. 

“(y/n)?” you turn to see Pete standing a few feet away with a smile plastered on his face. 

“Hey! I’m Pete,” he says offering his hand to shake. “I didn’t mean to sound weird knowing who you are, Colson talks about you a lot.” 

“Good to know,” you joke, and Pete smiles. 

The two of you end up talking for a while, getting to know each other, and trading secrets about Colson. You don’t realize how fast time is going until a drunk Colson finds you. 

“Darling!” he calls, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and leaning his head against yours. “You met Pete?” 

“Yes, love. And you’re wasted?” you ask. 

You turn your head to the side to look at your best friend when it occurs to you how close Colson is. An inch rests between two of you, and your eyes flicker between his and his lips. Your eyes land on each other and for a moment something passes between the two of you. 

"Y'all gonna kiss or what?" Pete says from in front of the two of you. 

You and Col both laugh, and your head rests on his chest. The two of you cast another glance at each other before you maneuver so your arm is around Colson's waist and his slips around your shoulders. 

"Let's go, big guy." 

Two

"Fuck!" Colson curses loudly while messing with the pearl-like necklace. 

You stand from your spot on the couch and head over to your frustrated best friend. As you walk up to him, his hands drop and you stand in front of him. You offer a small smile and reach up to click together the confusing necklace. 

“I’m nervous,” he admits as you work on the jewelry. “Why the fuck am I nervous?” 

“Because it’s a VMA and you’ve been working your ass off and you deserve one.” 

“But I don’t care if we win or lose,” he insists and you nod. 

“I know. But you still care a little bit.” 

After fastening the necklace, you fix it so the bullhorn is at the center of his neck. Once finished, your hands fall to his chest and you look up at him. 

“You’re gonna win.” 

Because of restrictions, you sit to the side of the room as Colson heads in front of the cameras to talk to the interviewer. You sit back and admire your best friend’s success, proud to have been able to watch how far he’s come and how amazing he’s done in his career, vma or not. 

“What I wanna let you know, you won the vma. I have somebody bringing it in for you right now.”  

Just as Colson begins to freak out on camera, you immediately start to jump up and down for your best friend. You want to run up and hug him and tell him you knew it but you refrain wanting to hear what he says in his acceptance speech. 

He runs through the og’s, Casie, his family, Travis, and Mod, and just as he’s about to stop, his eyes land on you. 

“My beautiful best friend. Just before this, she was reassuring me that I was gonna win and I trust her with everything. Thank you for always believing in me.” 

A happy tear falls as Colson continues to cheer and you watch until the interview is over and the crew cuts the camera. As soon as they’re finished, Colson beelines straight for you. 

His arms wrap around your waist and yours slip around his shoulders and you can feel the excitement and love radiate between the two of you. He picks you up and spins you around unable to contain the happiness and you’re both practically screaming in the tiny backstage area. 

“I won!!” he yells. 

“You won!!” you echo and you’re both laughing out of pure bliss. 

He sets you down and you take a step back, your hands moving from his shoulders to his face and you cup his cheeks and see a beaming smile greet you. 

“I’m so proud of you Col,” you say and he laughs lightly still not believing this all. 

You stay there like that for a moment, gazing into each other eyes and your heart beats fast as his striking blue eyes study yours. Your thumb absentmindedly strokes the side of his cheek and he leans into your touch. You’re certain he’s leaning in and you’re getting closer when someone interrupts you. 

“Colson? Is it okay if we get some pictures?” 

Three

“Okay, we’re gonna sit here and get all of our work done even if it kills us,” you say turning to your best friend and laughing. 

“Or, we could go to this party in the hills?” Kells asks, offering you puppy dog eyes. 

“Absolutely not. You have to finish that song and I need to write this paper. We can get it done together.” 

The older boy gazes at you from across the room and you meet it with ease. After a moment or so, he breaks and you giggle lightly knowing you won. 

You and Colson both had been putting off your respective work for days now. You were both born procrastinators, having bad habits for waiting till the last minute to get things done. When you met each other, it got a little bit easier to finish things though when you had to do it together. 

However, sometimes you got things done much later in the night than the two of you would have liked. Currently, it was almost 2:30 and neither one of you had made much progress. 

“Okay, I’m done,” Kells says coming over to your spot on the couch and laying down. 

His head falls into your lap and you instinctively let your hands fall to his hair. Your hands card through the soft blonde locks that fall into a messy mohawk formation on his head. You watch as Kells eyes fall shut as your nails scratch the sides of his buzzed hair before running through the locks once more, 

“Hey,” Colson says and you look down at him. You smile lightly at the older boy and he sits up at the action. He props up on his elbow, one hand reaching up to twirl his fingers through your hair and you hum at the action. Your eyes trace over his features, committing each perfect detail to memory. 

You suddenly realize you’re both moving closer and closer to each other until you’re centimeters away from each other. Your heart is nonexistent and your eyes shut in anticipation at the closeness. 

Suddenly the loud sound of your alarm goes off and the two of you split. Colson falls back into your lap, his head hanging lowly and sighing quietly. You scramble to turn the alarm off, completely forgetting that you turned it on in case you took a nap during your work. 

“So close,” you hear Colson whisper before he stands and goes back to his work and you find yourself smiling. 

Four

“I suck,” you tell him. 

“You don’t suck,” Colson reassures you. 

“Please? It’s one song, the last song! Please?” he begs taking your hands in his and tugging at them lightly. 

“Fine.” 

“Let’s go!” Col cheers letting go of your hands to pump his fists together. 

Colson had come to you when he was almost finished with the album and had only a few songs left to mix and go over to make sure they were perfect. After going over the album and the deluxe over and over, Colson finally realized what he was missing. 

“It’s just this part at the end, me and Dom already did it but I think adding a high harmony will be perfect,” Colson explains, leading you into the small recording booth. 

He wanted to add you onto body bag, one of your favorite tracks off of Col’s new album that he recorded with none other than YungBlud. The two finished the song, but Colson insists the ending woahs need a harmony. So, he came to you which you still didn’t understand in the slightest. 

“Are you sure you want me to sing? I’m gonna ruin the whole song.” 

“Definite. I’ll sing with you if that makes you feel better,” he reassures and you nod. 

The two of you get set up, Col explaining the process along the way and you try to follow along to the best of your abilities. After putting on your headphones and you both step up to the mic, your nerves start to kick in. 

“I promise it’s not bad. And we can always redo it.” 

You nod at your best friend and he smiles before giving Travis the thumbs up to start the audio. The backing of the song begins and out of habit, you begin to dance to the song. 

Just before the part you’re supposed to sing hits, Colson taps you and you look over at him and he nods as you’re supposed to come in. The two of you sing together, you hitting a higher harmony and Colson smiles wide at you the entire time. 

“It’s perfect guys,” Travis says when you’re finished. 

“We finished!” Colson yells. 

“You did it!” You yell back. 

It hits you both at the same time, the fact that Colson had finished something so close to him and your best friend had achieved something so great. 

You jump into Colson’s arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders. He catches you as if he’s done this a million times, his arm circling your waist and he pushes his face into your neck. 

You pull away, about to tell Col how proud you are of him when you’re struck by the proximity of the two of you. You both smile widely at each other, radiating complete and utter joy. You move closer, wanting to finally close the gap, wanting to enhance this moment when you’re interrupted. 

“Uh, guys?” 

Five

“Colson,” you whine from across the room. 

“Yes?” he asks looking up at you. 

You give him a look, the look you’ve perfected between the two of you that is always understood whether you say something before, after, or nothing at all. It always means I want food. 

“We just ate!” he exclaims and you burst out laughing. 

“We ate preppy award show food! I want Mcdonald’s,” you say in between laughter. 

“I mean,” he says, shooting you the same look and now you’re both cackling together. 

You grab your phone and Col grabs his keys and the two of you head out together. Some days, going to McDonald’s and just hanging out was the best for you and Colson. You got to relax, spend some genuine time with each other and do whatever you wanted. 

As you drive, you and Colson sing along to your throwback playlist and talk about the award show you just attended together. You two were getting tired of award season, and the speeches and the tiny food. However, you always promised that if you had each other you’d bear every award show. 

“Usual?” Col asks when you pull up the speaker. 

“Yes please,” you answer. 

Colson orders your food and as you pull up to the first window you try to hand him your credit card. 

“Venmo me,” he says. 

“I..” you begin and he tilts his head to the side in confusion. 

“Have no money in my bank account currently.” 

The two of you burst out laughing, the worker giving you confused looks as Colson hands him his card anyway and you try to protest but nothing comes out between the giggles. 

After Colson pays and you pick up the food, you tell him to pull over somewhere so you can eat. He ends up finding a secluded parking lot for the two of you to chill. 

As you eat, you two talk about random things, from stories from the week to past dumb things you two have done. You end up laughing and enjoying your time well past when you finish your food. 

“Remember when you fell at that award show?” kells asks and you begin to laugh.

“It was one time!” 

“You face planted!” he reminds you and you’re both laughing all over again. 

“You didn’t even try and catch me,” you whine. 

“I’ll always catch you I promise,” he says and you look over at your best friend. 

Kells wears a serious expression replacing the bright but rare smile on his lips just seconds previous. Your eyes search his, uncertain of the meaning behind the words. His hand takes yours, his thumb rubbing over the soft skin and his eyes stare into the distance as he does the action. 

“Col,” you whisper, trying to get the older boys attention. 

His eyes snap to yours and his hand moves from yours to your cheek. His thumb traces your features, trailing from your jaw to your lips and you’re breathless at his touch. Just as you inch closer and closer, your lips ghost over each other’s, and your breath hitches. 

You think you’re about to meet, a long-awaited connection when a horn blares out of nowhere, scaring the two of you apart. You both settle back into your seats, a soft chuckle emitting from your best friend as he shakes his head. You bite your lip, a hand coming up to feel the skin where his fingers gracefully touched and you can’t believe your moment was ruined once more. 

And One 

“Hey I’m coming over in 5,” you say greeting Colson from the view of your car. 

“Uh why?” he asks peering into the phone to figure out why you’re headed over to his place so late at night. 

“Cause there’s a meteor shower and I wanna watch it from a good view,” you explain and Colson laughs at you. 

After a quick drive, you’re walking inside of Colson’s house with blankets, pillows, and tons of snacks. When Col sees you, he hops up from the couch and helps you with the stuff. 

“You seriously drove all the way over here for a meteor shower?” 

“It’s a better view over here!” you defend and Colson laughs. 

Together you bring the stuff upstairs and manage to bring it out onto the rooftop. You set up, laying blankets over the rooftop, setting up pillows, and laying out snacks. 

“When is the shower supposed to start?” Col asks as he climbs back onto the roof next to you. 

“I think like 10 minutes?” 

Colson nods in response, settling in next to you. He lays down, his hand slipping underneath his head to prop himself up slightly. You lay down next to him, relaxed in each other’s presence as you wait for the meteor shower to begin. 

As you sit and stare at the stars, your mind wanders to the boy next to you. As cheesy as it was, you’d always be grateful to have Colson Baker in your life. No matter what happened, knowing him and gaining life experience together will be something you always cherished. 

You feel Colson moving next to you, and his hand slowly trails down until it meets yours, interlocking your fingers with ease. Your heart pounds slowly in your chest and you’re surprised Colson can’t hear it. 

“Hey,” he says and you turn to look at him. 

His hand comes to meet your cheek and you search his eyes. You sink into the feeling of his hands on you and nothing feels better in the world. As he moves closer, your breath hitches and you’re mesmerized by his stunning blue eyes. 

Then his lips are on yours, and the long awaited connection has sparks lighting from end to end. He moves slightly so he’s facing you, one hand holding your waist as the other caresses your cheek and you’re relaxed into his touch. 

As he pulls away, he places another chaste kiss to your lips and you’re left smiling wide. As you stare into Col’s eyes, you can’t help but giggle as the ultimate feeling of happiness overwhelms you. 

“Fucking finally,” he says and the two of you are really laughing now. 

[missmitchieg]

Julie Learns The Fiddle

"I shred on a banjo." Reggie shrugged.

"Then I'll learn how to fiddle." Julie promised and smiled, giving Reggie a fist bump.

Two weeks later, Julie woke up and walked downstairs to get breakfast and talk to her dad about getting fiddle lessons, because when Julie Molina makes a promise to someone, Julie Molina keeps the promise.

She smiled as she smelled eggs, bacon and chocolate chip waffles cooking, tapping Ray's shoulder. "Hey, dad. Can I talk to you about something?" She asked.

Ray smiled and turned down the heat, turning his attention to Julie. "What's up, Julie?"

"I was just thinking, um- Well, you know how much we all love music in this household and music is really important to us all, and learning new things, too." Julie started. "I was just wondering if maybe I could get fiddle lessons?"

"Fiddle. Like, country fiddle?" Ray asked, furrowing his eyebrows as Reggie whooped next to him which Julie struggled to ignore. Since when does his daughter like country music?

"Yeah! I've just been listening to a lot more country recently and I think the fiddle sounds really pretty and I want to learn how to play it myself." Julie grinned and clasped her hands together, giving Ray her best puppy eyes. "Please, dad?"

"Please, Ray?" Reggie begged as well, hands clasped and eyes wide, even though he knew Ray couldn't see or hear him.

Ray smiled and chuckled, nodding his head. "Alright, mija. If it'll make you happy." He decided.

Julie squealed and hugged Ray tightly, bouncing on her heels. "Thank you, papa!" She grinned as Ray kissed her head, laughing when Reggie bounced along with her. She watched Reggie poof out, presumably to tell Luke the good news and smiled as Ray grabbed his laptop to search for fiddle lessons near them.

They bought a fiddle (which Julie decked out in her cute doodles as she did with everything) and started lessons the next day. And Julie, well... She sort of sucked. But everyone sounded like that in the beginning! She would get better with time, practice and patience!

Luke, Reggie and Alex sat in on her lessons for emotional and moral support every Saturday, Reggie taking note of how the teacher corrected her posture or finger placement and gently reminding her whenever she would practice in the garage.

Julie would always give Reggie a fond and grateful smile when he would help her and try to play again, slowly getting better every week.

"Relax your left shoulder, Jules."

"Oh, thanks."

"This finger goes here."

"Thanks, Reg."

"Oh, good vibrato on that one."

"Thanks!"

"See, you're getting better!"

Even Luke was coming around to Julie becoming a fiddle queen and admitted that "Ok, yeah. I guess the fiddle does sound kinda pretty when you play it." whenever Julie would play a particularly good note.

Julie would blush and duck her head, then quickly resume practicing the song she'd been assigned to learn that week. This time around, it was Happy Birthday. Carlos and the phantoms all insisted on sitting with her in the garage and singing the song to make her laugh and make learning it more fun.

Julie giggled as the boys danced in circles around her and kept playing, smiling when Flynn walked in. "Hey, Flynn!"

"Hey, girl! Heard you out here all the way from across the street. You're getting good!" Flynn grinned, flipping their hair back over their shoulder.

"Hi, Flynn!"

"Hey, Flynn!"

"Hi, Flynn-tastic!"

"The boys said hi. Reggie's on my left." Julie pointed toward Reggie. "Alex and Luke are on my right." She pointed toward Alex and Luke.

"Hi, boys." Flynn grinned, plopping themself onto the couch.

Julie chuckled as Alex and Reggie sat next to Flynn and grabbed the white board to write to them. She loved how well her boys got along with her best friend, like they were always meant to meet and be best friends. And maybe they were.

Julie practiced almost every day as much as she could, until she mastered every song her teacher gave her. She gladly took the fiddle sheet music for Reggie's song, Home Is Where My Horse Is, and showed it to her teacher to learn for the week. She sat and learned the song with a smile, and even Luke smiled as he listened to her play, despite not caring much for the song or country music in the beginning of this whole fiddle situation.

Two weeks later, Julie and Reggie sat Luke, Alex, Carlos, Ray and Flynn down in the garage, surprising them with a performance of Reggie's song, showing off the boy's singing and song writing talents.

In the end, everyone, yes, even Luke, loved it.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.2 (BAON)

Summary: Jeff has a lot to think about and what better place to do it than at the bar with his best buddy, Stretch?

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships,  Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags To Come

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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The night wasn’t as young as it used to be, but to be fair, neither was Jeff. After a few hours of sitting on a bar stool, his tailbone would be more than willing to testify on that.

He leaned back against the bar in an effort to take some of his weight off of it, grimacing as he watched the dance floor. Colored lights flashed to the thrumming bass beat over the gyrating dancers and out in the thrashing sea of sweaty human bodies there was a head that was above almost all of them. Stretch towered over most humans and never was it more obvious than right then. The lights reflected off his smooth skull, a living disco ball, and around him other humans were laughing and cheering as they danced.

Edge would be having a conniption right about now and Jeff was a little bemused to find his anxiety having an internal dance competition of its own. Currently it was at ‘chachacha’ levels, watching all those Humans grinding up on Stretch. He didn’t want to think anyone here would hurt Stretch, intentionally or otherwise, but the threat of low HP always loomed. His trust in humanity took a pretty big dip a few months ago outside a Chinese restaurant and he had the scars to prove it.

Jeff took another sip of his drink. His straw crackled against the bottom of the glass as he finished it off, leaving only lonely ice cubes behind and he set it back on the bar as he settled back in for a little spare contemplation.

If he were honest, wasn’t a huge fan of the club scene even before he started dating Antwan. Not that he didn’t like going out but his problems with it were twofold. One, bars sucked to go to alone and back then he didn’t have a lot of real estate in the friend territory and two, it cost money. His disposable cash in those days was a lot like a pink unicorn: nonexistent.

Being friends with Stretch took care of both of those problems but a third loomed up to take their place like an unwanted acquaintance. Put bluntly, Jeff could not dance and until Kevin Bacon showed up to give him a few lessons, he probably wasn’t gonna learn how.

Not that he really minded that much. Guarding their drinks and listening to the music wasn’t a bad way to spend the night.

Besides, Stretch didn’t seem to care if he wasn’t up to evacuating the dance floor. He mostly let Jeff sit at the bar where he tried to look like someone with deep and mysterious thoughts to process instead of the person he actually was, far more likely to accidently spill his drink into his lap than anything else. On either side of him were other people doing the same, a row of wallflowers watching the dance floor with wistful envy.

Mostly Stretch left him to it but sometimes he’d bounce his way back and haul Jeff out for a song, any song, fast, slow, techno-bop, dubstep, didn’t matter to Stretch, he was an equal opportunist when it came to friendly torment and if Jeff felt a lot like Frankenstein’s monster tromping around next to Stretch’s lithe booty shake, eh, that was okay. Sacrificing a little dignity for a friend’s fun times was part of the package.

As far as he knew, Stretch didn’t go out to the clubs often either, but if there was one thing Jeff had learned when it came to Stretch, it was there were no half-measures. If he was in, he was all in, and that included drinking, dancing, and on the weekends, the occasional explosion caused by a thermal reaction. Truly a wide variety of hobbies came into play when hanging out with Stretch and going out to the bars pretty much guaranteed something interesting would happen.

Like the time they met those guys who’d come into town for the last beat poetry night. One of them mentioned liking Stretch’s Intergalactic Beastie Boys t-shirt so Stretch convinced them all to swap shirts and then swapped them around again, until they were all three shirts removed from the one they’d arrived in. Pants were a harder sell and if Stretch were ever hard up for money, he might take up selling ice to penguins because in no time they were all out on the sidewalk, firmly dismissed from Grillby’s over their rampant laughter drowning out the poet’s rambling about the burden of solitude. The Waffle House they ended up at had a less stringent dress code and all of them crammed into a booth to eat greasy breakfast food at two am in their boxer shorts. At least those were all their own and his plain cotton boxer briefs were no match against Stretch’s ‘wanna tickle my pickle’ pair.

He was pretty sure all those guys still followed Stretch on twitter.

He wondered what Edge had thought of Stretch wandering home in an entirely new wardrobe, minus pants. There was no way he didn’t notice, Edge was very intent on fashion, even Stretch’s version of it. Knowing him, he probably made Stretch strip right in the living room and soaked both him and his clothes in Lysol before burning his boxer shorts. The old-new t-shirt Jeff ended up with was hanging in closet even though it was two sizes too big for him. Antwan stole it sometimes for lounging around the house purposes and seeing him in it was always a cheap thrill.

Huh, now that he was thinking about it, he’d gone to the bar more this past year than in his whole life before. Not just with Stretch either, Blue and Papyrus had brought him along for karaoke a few times and that was an experience right there. Their singing was like a vocal interpretation of his dancing and just as painful for witnesses.

He’d even had a drink a couple of times with Red. Well, he’d been a tag along with Antwan but still. Red was still vaguely terrifying, but Jeff had gotten the occasional glimpse under his onion layers. He knew a little of what Edge and Red went through before they came here. His knowledge pretty much barely skimmed the surface, they’d both been soldiers and they might’ve gotten out alive, but not entirely unscathed. Knowing Red’s HP was similar to Stretch’s and he’d still survived? Perspective was a hell of a thing and it paid to look at Red from a slant.

Speaking of perspective, he was definitely liking the music. They were a local band and this place was close to the college, a good spot to hopefully get noticed and work their way up. The bar itself had probably been here for fifty years, the bartop pitted with scratches and scars from college students of yore, the stools definitely up for reupholstering.

It was really no surprise to find out that Stretch knew the current owner. He knew loads of people, wriggled his way into their lives a lot like he’d wriggled into Jeff’s. Only difference was, he didn’t usually let the other person wriggle back and yeah, okay, that metaphor was going in weird places, but the meaning stood. Stretch was good with shortcuts and he knew a lot of people, but he wasn’t necessarily friends with a lot. Jeff was pretty happy to be on the short list.

Knowing people came in handy, too, and bringing Stretch along always came with added perks. Catty only asked him to listen to the bands on the list to get a feel for their sound, but he’d be able to bring her a better report than that since they were going to go meet the band after their set was done. It would give him a chance feel them out, see if they were even interested in participating in the Midnight Monster Jamboree, as Catty had slyly dubbed it. After everything went down in California, they needed some serious good will.

The Monster community had been found not at fault for what happened right away, but Antwan told him court cases would be dragging on for a while yet. When Humans died, other Humans wanted someone to pay, and Monsters were easy scapegoats for unreasonable anger. His team was working their butts off on it, Antwan coming home at night so very tired, mostly falling into Jeff’s arms to sleep and yet still so grimly determined. Jeff couldn’t do much about all that, but he could try his damnedest to get their big public relations event off the ground.

The idea was to have a huge event for Humans and Monsters together and for it to be held in New New Home. Asgore thought that some of the problems with Humans might be a result of them thinking Monsters had something to hide, so what better way to show them who Monsters really were than a chance to see into their supposedly secret lives.

Jeff was on the lowest rung for planning and even from his view, it looked like a nightmare. Security details made up of both Human and Monsters, background checks, food, entertainment. Access was going to be extremely limited and the guest list was daunting; there were going to be some big names in politics and entertainment. That circled back to his job, getting some local bands together for the opening shows. Partly good public relations, but also an earnest desire to help out a few struggling locals with the kind of exposure most groups could only dream about. That was so like Monsters, trying to help others in the midst of helping themselves, but it sure was a lot of damn pegs getting shoved into so many slots.

He didn’t even want to know what Edge’s current schedule looked like.

There was a soft thud behind him and Jeff turned to see the bartender was bringing him another drink. The guy was probably somewhere around his age, unless you were gauging it by his world-weary expression, which probably put him at about right around three hundred.

He must’ve known Stretch, too. When they saw each other, he youthened to a spry two hundred and seventy after a complicated series of fist bumps. As an added bonus, he’d been keeping their drinks topped up and as someone who usually couldn’t even get a bartender to see him much less pour him a drink, Jeff sure did appreciate the VIP service.

He started reaching for his drink, but a sudden tap on his shoulder startled him. He turned around. A guy he didn’t recognize was standing there, not too bad on the eyes and weirdly nervous, enough that Jeff thought he might actually be trying to pick him up before he noticed the guy was holding something out.

“Did you drop this?” the guy said, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. It was a wallet and Jeff automatically checked his back pocket even as his eyes told him it wasn’t his.

He shook his head and the guy nodded, but instead of asking anyone else or handing it to the bartender, he wandered off towards the entrance.

Okay, that was odd. Jeff shrugged mentally, lots of weird people at the bar, maybe he was going to give it to the guy at the door in case whoever lost it noticed when they left.

He forgot about it as Stretch came back from the dance floor, sweat gleaming on his skull and face. That always gave Jeff a little pause, what exact purpose did sweating serve for a skeleton? Maybe he’d ask sometime when he was less busy with work. If Stretch didn’t know the answer to something, the journey to find out tended to be entertaining, and possibly less explosive this time around, although he wouldn’t put the chances at zero.

Stretch grinned at him, still panting, and picked up his own drink, gulping down half of it in one swallow. Jeff couldn’t remember was it was. Stretch tended to order more for the name than the taste, so it was probably something like a slippery nipple or a total screaming orgasm. Whatever it was, a skewer of fruit was floating in it and Stretch fished it out, pulling the cherry off the end with his teeth.

“so what do you think of the band?” Stretch asked, perfectly audible even over the loud music. There was another point of interest; when your voice was produced by magic, it didn’t always obey the rules of sound. “gonna give catty the thumbs up?

“I like it,” Jeff shrugged. He could barely hear his own voice, trusting that magical hearing worked the same way as speaking, “but I’m not the greatest judge of music. That’s why I bring you along.”

Stretch chuckled and propped his elbows on the bar, slouching back. It put him almost at head level with Jeff and the shirt he’d almost certainly borrowed from Edge pulled tight across his ribcage. “think i’m a better simon cowell than you?”

“No, you’re more Paula Abdul, and anyway, two heads are better than one.” Jeff played with the straw in his own drink. “Jokes aside, this is important, I don’t want to mess it up.”

“you’re not gonna mess it up.” Stretch scoffed. He bit a chunk of pineapple in half before polishing off the rest of his drink. “how even? you’re doing double-duty as it is. henry said once they’re finished, we can meet them backstage. i’ll have a chat with them, we’ll see if they’re assholes, and good to go! besides, it’s not like security isn’t gonna give ‘em a good, hard rundown, anyway.”

It was the truth and he knew it, but there was always that niggling little doubt in the back of his mind, that somehow he’d find a way to mess it up, and that would be it. This was so important to the Monster community and his chance to finally payback some of what’d they’d given him. He could do this, Jeff told himself, and he’d do it right.

The band started a new set, something with a low, growling bassline and Jeff turned back to watch, only to freeze as Stretch suddenly spoke again, the single word clear as a bell in church.

“jeff.”

The name caught his attention as much as the tone, Stretch never called him Jeff, it was always Andy or kiddo or whatever nickname was currently floating his proverbial boat. The last time he’d called Jeff by his actual name, he’d been lying in a parking lot in a pool of his own blood. The taste of hot metal was strong on the back of his tongue as he turned back to Stretch, his heart pounding, and some cringing part of him expected to see that friendly face instead as the one that appeared sometimes in his worst dreams, a deathmask with one socket dark and blank, the other strobing orange with grim intensity.

But Stretch only looked like his normal self and when he spoke again, each word was calmly measured and deliberate. "i don't feel right. i think we should go."

Somehow, that was even more alarming, and his worry quickly overshadowed any lingering bad memories that were vying for his attention.

“Sure,” Jeff said, “right now.” He hopped down from the stool. Stretch pushed off from the bar and staggered, leaning hard against Jeff and thank fuck he was light because his height already made it awkward to hold him up. He started to call for the bartender, maybe there was someplace they could sit down in the back while he called Edge, when another guy came up next to them, helping hold Stretch up. Then another on Jeff’s side and he started to protest that he didn’t need help when a voice growled close to his ear.

"Don’t look at me. Keep your mouth shut or I'll kill you."

It was followed by the sensation of something hard butting into his ribs and this could not be happening. This did not happen in the real world, this wasn’t a Jason Bourne movie, there could not be a gun pressed to his side right now. Even his own fear was sitting on the sidelines, pushed out by disbelief as Jeff stumblingly followed the guiding arm around him leading towards the door. The crowd reluctantly parted and next to them, Stretch was shuffling along, his eye lights blown wide and fuzzily diffused. He started sagging, his skull lolling back on his shoulders and around them were murmurs, people starting to notice.

“Hey, what’s going on? Stretch?” From the direction of the bar, and Jeff glanced back wildly to catch the bartender watching with dawning concern. There was no time to say a word, to even mouth a desperate ‘help’ before he was forcibly swung back around and pushed through the door.

The cold night air was like a slap in the face, sobering, and fear was starting to sink its teeth in past his disbelief. The guy next to him was keeping back out of his line of sight and he could only barely see the one on Stretch, dark hair, taller, burly, did he have a gun, too, who were they and why—?

By the entrance, the bouncer looked up in surprise as they walked past. “Hey, Stretch, you guys, okay?”

“Fuck off!” The man holding onto Jeff barked and the gun swung towards the bouncer. There was a beat of incongruous silence broken by the strains of music coming from inside the bar, then a girl screamed, the waiting crowd scattering.

“Fuck! Get them in the car!” A different voice, loud and panicky and he caught another glimpse of dark hair before he was shoved forward again. He stumbled, almost falling to his knees among the cigarette butts that scattered the asphalt, and the memory of another parking lot was strong, the swell of panic gagging him.

He didn’t resist as he was pushed towards a van, the side door sliding open and then he was inside it, collapsing across the backseat.

Weight dropped directly on top of him with a clatter of bones and Jeff grunted, trying to push Stretch off of him enough to sit up. Only to lose his balance again as the van squealed away from the curb, the tangle of his own limbs catching with Stretch’s limp ones.

A new voice barked from the direction of the driver’s seat. “Get their phones, hurry up!”

Rough hands grabbing at them, and Jeff instinctively tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. His phone was yanked from his pocket and Stretch didn’t say a word, only breathing with a slurry snore into Jeff’s ear. There was the sound of a power window going down, of tires squealing against asphalt and the inside of the van was too dark to see.

Not that it mattered. Rough hands hauled Jeff upright and the person they belonged to was wearing a ski mask like a fucking heist cliché. Jeff choked back a hysterical laugh, but even panicked amusement took a backseat when ski mask demanded, “Okay, both of you need to strip.”

Jeff only stared in mute horror, barely comprehending as a duffle bag was suddenly thrust at them.

“Change into these,” Ski Mask ordered, “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

There was a pun there, Stretch would have been able to think of one. Would have if he wasn’t lying slumped across the seat. His sockets were still open, but his eye lights were dim and unseeing, the lights were on and no one was home, not quite a pun but it’d have to do.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” Jeff said. He tried not to look at the guy with the gun as he carefully opened the duffle and pulled out the clothes inside, choosing his words with the same care. “He’s…he’s fragile, just a punch and you could kill him. Please.”

“Then don’t make us do anything that’ll get him hurt.”

Good advice from a shitty source.

Jeff scrambled into the oversized t-shirt and sweatpants in the bag, then helped the other…what, kidnapper? Asshole was the strongest contender in his head and that was what Jeff went with. Helped Asshole #2 get Stretch change into his. The guy was brusque but not ungentle, at least, and the second they were finished, the van pulled up next to a dumpster. A fourth asshole sitting in the front seat hopped out, tossing all their clothes plus the bag into it. Four against two, not including guns, not the best odds. Like Jeff would have been much help even if it were mano a mano. He sure as hell wasn’t a fighter past panicked desperation and he wasn’t about to hinge Stretch’s life on that.

“Now, sit back and relax,” said Asshole With A Gun. “You two behave and no one gets hurt, okay?”

Jeff knew a lie when he heard one. He nodded anyway and huddled into the seat, one arm looped around Stretch to offer what feeble protection he could. His skull resting in Jeff’s lap was a familiar weight from movie nights and Netflix marathons. His unconsciousness was not, but he was alive, they both were. It was a place to start.

Jeff kept silent, petting the smooth curve of Stretch’s skull as he watched the streetlights flash by and waited to see what came next.

tbc

[ceruleanmusings]

First and Foremost

Fandom: Big Time Rush Pairing: James Diamond x Mickey Mason (OC) Word Count: 5.7k Summary: Mickey goes to cheer James up after a brutal verbal beating by Gustavo. Contents: mild flirting, teasing, show-standard humor, sadness Tag: @mystic-scripture​ @foxesandmagic​ @witchofinterest​ @perhapspearl​ @raging-violets​ @lareiism​ @ocfairygodmother​ @ocappreciationtag​

The bright orange vinyl began sticking to his cheek, trapping his heavy sighs against his warm skin but James didn’t care. Why should he care? It wasn’t as if he had a modeling gig to run off to so the inevitable red line pressing into his cheek could stay. It wasn’t as if he had an acting gig to prepare for so he could continue to lay flopped on the couch, feet dangling off the edge, wrinkling his clothes. It wasn’t as if he had a solo moment in a song to rehearse for so he could let his throat roll an agonized vocalization around in his chest.

He'd left Rocque Records hours ago and yet he still heard Gustavo’s shouts echoing in his head: “Stop smiling like that, I hate it!”, “A garbage disposal has better timing than you!”, “I could replace you with a mop and it wouldn’t make any difference!”, and his favorite, “Okay, do it again, but this time, SING ACTUAL NOTES!”

Clearly, Gustavo was wrong. …He had way better hair than a mop so, actually, it would make a difference!

James uttered another body wrenching sigh.

It just wasn’t fair. He spent so much time rehearsing, getting his vocals warmed up, loosening his muscles to better execute dance moves. He put his all into being a pop star! Okay, sometimes he could get distracted by the lights and the glitz and glamor but who wouldn’t? Pretty people wanted to dress him, sculpt his hair, perfect his image (not that they had to do much on that front), have them joint their ranks, put him in the spotlight where he belonged. Why was it a bad thing? When it came down to it, he wanted this. He always wanted this!

Kendall, Carlos, and Logan didn’t get it. He loved his buds, but that didn’t mean he didn’t see their eye rolls, hear their scoffs, or feel their dismissive aside glances when he talked about a potential modelling job or how he was, in fact, the best person to lead a song (or sing the whole thing, why split hairs?), or when he shared his dream of buying a house to turn it into a personal salon/display museum for his bandanas. (It makes sense to keep it all in one place!)

All he was trying to do was make his dreams a reality. It wasn’t as if he was pushing his buds off a cliff to get there. It’d happen eventually. It was inevitable. (The recognition, not the cliff-pushing.) He had the face, he had the voice, he had the talent, he had the body, he had the face. He was born for this life. He was meant to be doing this!

But no one else seemed to notice.

Groaning, James turned onto his side, tucked his arm beneath his head and curled his knees up to his chest. If Katie were around, she’d point and laugh at him, maybe say he was being a big baby or some other phrase with big words he didn’t understand. Thankfully she, the guys, and Mama Knight were off at an LA Kings game. He’d been looking forward to the game for weeks but going didn’t appeal to him after the day he had. He’d taken enough hits to watch other people get tossed around like a ragdoll.

Sometime later he heard the distinct sound of someone climbing the stairs to get to the swirly slide entrance and yet he still didn’t move. Instead, he watched dust motes float and around the shafts of gold light seeping in through the blinds.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Ordinarily James would’ve jumped up at the sound of Mickey’s voice, double-checking his reflection in his lucky pocket mirror to ensure he was presentable and his muscles were at their peak. He couldn’t let her see him at anything other than his best. He was James Diamond! He didn’t do mediocre! This time, though, he stayed still, listening as she came down the swirly slide, the rubber on her docs tapping against the ground on her dismount. It was the only time she didn’t knock before entering. The door was always open, and people came and went as they pleased, but not Mickey. She made sure to knock every time. It was polite, she explained, looking at them all as if they’d been raised by wolves.

He mentally followed her footsteps—always with that cute little bounce to it—around the back of the couch heading to the island until she came into view. She dressed comfortably as always: dread locks pulled back into a half updo with gold rings and cuffs, her favorite cropped white *NSYNC hoodie depicting the image of their first album cover, dark skinny jeans, pale blue docs and a makeup-free face. She never wore makeup except for occasions where it called for it such as appearances, interviews, and photoshoots. James never thought she needed it.

“I’m just picking up my Tupp…er…ware…” He watched as Mickey’s eyebrows collided and she leaned to the side, peering at him as if she didn’t recognize him on the couch. He didn’t blame her; he was sure he wouldn’t recognize himself if he could see himself right now. “James? Are you okay?” she asked, taking a few steps closer, tucking a lock behind her ear.

James’ lips pushed out another sigh. “I’m sad,” he replied. No sense in hiding the obvious. His lower lip already dropped to a pout upon uttering the words and he couldn’t fight the wave washing over him, dragging his mood further (if that were possible).

Shoving her hands into the front of her pockets she approached. “’Cause of Gustavo?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

He blinked. “That’s it.”

Her eyebrow arched. “No it’s not. I can see it all over your pretty face.” Sliding a hand out her pocket, she wiggled a pointed finger at him, motioning in circles around his face.

“Hmph. At least you think it’s pretty,” he mumbled.

She sat on the floor in front of the couch, turning her knees to the side, propping her elbow on the cushion and her cheek on her fist while turning to him. He looked back at her, taking in her freckle dotted nose. Her dark eyes squinted for a moment, mimicking the small pull to her mouth until they both relaxed. “What’s up? Besides the Gustavo part. I was wearing soundproof headphones while recording my bass lines today—I still heard him through it. And while that sucked, I know that’s not the only issue.”

“Maybe I just wanted to be alone.”

“James, you can’t go an elevator ride without needing someone to talk to.” Her mouth quirked in the corner, bolstering the tease to her words. He managed a small smile. “Speaking of which. Where are the guys?”

“They went to a Kings game.”

“Are you meeting them there?”

“I didn’t want to go.”

Her eyes widened, dark brown lighting to reflect her surprise. “You didn’t want to go to a King’s game?”

James twisted his mouth to the side, shrugging. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go. Of course he wanted to go. Everything about hockey appealed to him: the crisp air filling his lungs, the crackling excitement plucking his energized nerves, the sharp snap of wood smacking against rubber, the scuffing of sharp blades on the ice, the cold adding a natural blush to his cheeks, the hot girls dressed in jerseys, the warm nacho cheese sliding down his throat, the way the bright lights lit him on his good side (both of them). But, even with the Kings and Ducks matchup, it wasn’t enough to get him off the couch.

“Well, what about hanging by the pool? It’s Golden Hour.” She reached out and poked his cheek. “Your favorite time of day.”

That was true. Nothing made his selfies better than the effect of a filter without actually having to use one. He thought about it for a second, shook his head, and sighed again. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Wow.” Her lashes fluttered due to her rapid blinking. A hum sounded behind her turned down mouth and she reached out, squeezing his knee. He felt a tug somewhere in the pit of his stomach at her touch, like a cork easing its way out of a bottle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Silence. Then: “It just doesn’t make sense!” And it all came pouring out, the frustrations and grievances. Not just from that day but from the past year and a half, from the start of it all. How they didn’t want him, they wanted Kendall. How no matter how hard he tried it wasn’t good enough. How, even though he had the talent, and knew it in his bones, it didn’t match the “fire” they looked for. How he was dragged along to form a group in a business he’d always dreamed of being in. How he was constantly shuttled back and forth between his parents, passed along like a discarded accessory. How he was overlooked time and time again (which he still wasn’t even sure how that was possible with his height and face and style.) How he was dismissed and taken as being “dramatic” when he opted not to go to the Kings game.

It was that feeling, the want—or lack thereof—which kept him glued to the couch. It seemed everyone could direct it towards anyone and anything else but him. No one chose him. No one wanted him.

The entire time he spoke Mickey stayed quiet save for the occasional hums to accompany her head nods. By the end she offered up a clicking tsk and a welcomed, “Aww, dude, I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.” She looked at him and he looked right back, wondering for a minute if they were having some sort of staring contest until he got cross-eyed and had to blink. Her shoulders shook with a quiet laugh, lips curling upwards in the corners. Silence stretched between them. James’s eyes widened slightly, taking on a pointed look.

“Is that it?” James finally prompted.

“Is what it?”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“…Yeah.”

“You’re not going to tell me I’m being dramatic? You’re not going to give me some advice? You’re not going to give me some pep talk?”

Mickey snorted. “And what kind of advice could I give you? To just get over it?” James nodded rapidly. “You’re upset. Telling you to get over it won’t change that. Besides, I get it.”

“You do?”

“That feeling you have to work twice as hard just to get the recognition you feel you rightfully deserve only to be overlooked?” She let out a little bitter laugh, twisting the end of one of her dreads around her finger. “Yeah. I know that feeling a little too well; life made sure of it.” A second later her eyes widened and then squinted, as if seeing something in the distance. Her eyebrows furrowed and she clicked her tongue. In a flash, she got off the floor and James watched her make quick strides to the door, opening it with a flourish only to pull it shut behind her. He stared at the swinging jackets hanging off the key shaped holder, an incredulous expression popping onto his face.

“Well thanks for the talk, Mickey! I feel so much better!” James called out to the closed door. He rolled onto his back, unfurling his legs, staring up at the tall ceiling. Geeze, first Gustavo, then his buds, and now Mickey. He thought people cared about him but clearly he was wrong! Why did he even like her in the first place?

A knock sounded on the door. Uncurling himself, James sat up, head tilting in curiosity. A second later the door opened, and a sheepish Mickey stepped through it. “Forgot, I don’t need to knock for myself,” she muttered, rubbing her palms down the legs of her jeans.

Nevermind, she came back. He liked her again.

She drummed her fingers against her thighs and then headed for the kitchen. “I’m thirsty. Do you want a juice box?”

James’s head bobbed from side to side. Now that his chest didn’t feel as if it would cave in, it felt “Yeah, I could go for one.” She pulled one from the fridge and tossed it to him. He easily caught it with one hand as he swung his legs down from the couch, settling on the middle cushion facing the tv. He popped off the straw and stabbed it through the foil-covered hole on top. He didn’t pretend it was Gustavo’s face beneath the straw. Not at all. He took a long pull of the watermelon flavored drink and swallowed. It helped, but only a little.

He watched as Mickey closed the refrigerator and started opening and closing a few cabinets. She pulled a few bowls out of one and set them on the counter and then pulled open a few drawers, taking out measuring cups and spoons and knives.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Well, there’s really no point in bringing back Tupperware that’s empty is there?” She asked, eyebrows lifting. “It’s downright blasphemy.”

His stomach quivered at that. Food? She was making food? As much as a small part of him still wanted nachos from the Staples Center, he could trade it for whatever she made. If magic existed, she possessed it with how good her food turned out. Not that Mama Knight’s wasn’t a great cook herself, nothing beat her cheesy potato soup or Fishstick Fridays or her amazing snickerdoodles, Mickey just tended to make more on the dessert side. And while his body was a temple and he treated it right, sometimes the temple wanted a big fat slice of pie. To please the Gods. (Him, James was the God. No matter how much Logan disagreed, the peasant).

“What are you making? Can I have some?”

“It’s a surprise but sure. It’s gonna take me some time, though.”

James reeled in his pout and protest, as much as he hated having to wait history showed it tended to be worth it. Shifting off the couch, he opened the cabinet beneath the tv and looked at the array of DVDs staring back at him. He bypassed his usual go-tos—Die Hard, Bring it On, the Entourage series, Fast and Furious, Step Brothers, Zoolander, Marley & Me—stopping at the smaller cases on the end, holding white discs with Mama Knight’s handwriting scrawled over the surface depicting dates from a few years back. James shuffled through the cases as if they were a deck of cards, stopping on one he remembered from freshman year, near the end of the season.

The Meadowlark High Coyotes were 7-9; they needed to win at least four more games to make it to the playoffs before their season was cut short. They were down by three points at 4-6 against Willow Grove High’s Rams with ten minutes left. Kendall had been benched for fighting after getting his face smashed into the plexiglass on a breakaway (it was a cheap hit). Carlos was ejected for leaving goal to bum rush the player who executed the hit, trying to pants him. And Logan sat on the bench, his nose buried in his roster book, scribbling away, making notes for the coach to review after the game. That left him the lone wingman to turn the tide on a penalty shot and any scoring chance he obtained afterwards. Yes there was another wingman, but he may as well not have been on the ice with James taking the lead.

He popped it into the DVD player and fell back into the memory of the day, sank into the swell of cheers, the shrill whistles, the thudding beat of his heart in his ears, the rush as he glided over the ice, carrying the puck to the goal shot after shot after shot. And the chanting, oh the chanting, it may as well have been tattooed on his heart: Dia-mond, Dia-mond, Dia-mond! Only his stick slapping against the puck broke the cheering. Crack! Crack! Crack! James rushed the goal and sent the puck sailing through the air, nestling in the top right and left corners of the net, lighting the lamp. The crowd went wild. His team rushed the ice, lifting him up in the air as sirens and whistles went off.

James paused on the zoom on his face, the light in his eyes and the flush on his cheeks. Someone had yanked off his helmet so they could ruffle his sweaty hair, which still looked good compared to the others, thank you very much. (Helmet hair was not something he ever had to combat, he made sure of it.)

They won. They chose him and he won. When he was picked, they all succeeded. That was the point.

He scanned backwards, watching the play in reverse, pressed play, and watched their victory unfold. Again. And again. And again. Forward, back, forward, back. Shoot, score, repeat. Every watch brought back another shot of exhilaration, another round of satisfaction pulsing through his veins. Gustavo had drained that feeling right out of him.

“What’re you watching?” Mickey’s head hung next to his as she leaned over the back of the couch. “Is that you? Oh, you were all so teeny!”

James pouted. He wasn’t teeny. Yeah, he was a couple years younger than now and had a bit of a rounder face but all the days playing hockey he’d shed his childhood weight. And he’d hit his growth spurt, so he was already taller than the guys in their class. Despite the slight sting of the comment, he answered, “Freshman year hockey game. Against our rivals, the Rams.”

“Did you win?”

James scoffed. “Of course we did!” Big Time Rush didn’t lose. Once they all joined the team, they were a force to be reckoned with. “All thanks to me, even. Kendall and the guys were benched for ‘unsportsmanlike behavior’.” His finger quotes stabbed the air as he rolled his eyes.

“Why? What’d they do?”

“Watch.” Within a few seconds the scene unfolded again: Kendall on a breakaway, for all intents and purposes prime for a good shot. Then someone from the other team bashed into him, clearly committing a foul. Kendall bounced off the plexiglass as sharp whistles and booing jeers filled the air. Cheeks red, either due to the cold or anger, Kendall threw down his stick and gloves, whipped off his helmet, and charged for a Ram. He managed a hit on one before two Rams came up, grabbed him, threw him into the plexiglass again, and squished his face against it, dragging it from side to side. Mickey sucked a hissing breath in between her teeth, face scrunching up to a look of pain.

“That looked like it hurt.”

“Hurt worse when the guy wasn’t even called for it—the refs were from their town,” James explained at the look of disbelief crossing her face. “But I get the penalty shot and score more goals to clinch the win for us.”

“Bet that felt good.”

He shrugged. Good wasn’t the right word. Amazing wasn’t the right word. He didn’t think a word existed to properly encompass how that day felt. He paused the video and scanned it backwards again, his thumb hovering over the play button as his eyes took in their reflections on the tv screen. Namely how close she leaned to his head. Turning to her, he eyed her close-up profile. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could just say so,” James said with a flirtatious smile. Motioning to her with the remote he added, “You don’t have to come up with an excuse to get close.”

Her head tilted to the side, her studying him this time. “Would it make you feel better?”

He blinked. Uh…what? That wasn’t what she was supposed to say. That wasn’t how things went with them. He’d flirt, she’d rebuff him, he’d try again later. That’s how their friendship worked, among both agreeing blue was, in fact, a flavor (suck it, Logan!), her helping him with English homework while he helped her with vocal work, taking trips to the farmer’s market for fresh ingredients (her for her cooking, him for his organic, clean, homemade facial mask), and splitting the s’mores skillet at Fun Burger on his cheat day. Not that he didn’t like this turn of events, he wasn’t stupid. Okay, so he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the spotlight, but he wasn’t that stupid.

Still, he shook his head and pinched his arm to be sure this wasn’t some sort of dream, that she had, in fact, asked if kissing him would make him feel better. His fingers pressed into his skin and a pinch of pain shot up his arm. His eyes widened. He was definitely awake!

“Uh…sure?” He mentally admonished himself, hearing how unsure he sounded. Who talked like that? Not him, that’s for sure. He was much cooler than that. He cleared his throat, deepened his voice, turned his eyes to smolder, and said, “I mean, yeah. We could give it a shot.”

“Okay, close your eyes.”

He did as he was told, eyes slamming shut. James’ chest swelled and relaxed as he took in and let out a long breath. Not that he was nervous. He’d kissed plenty of girls before. Hell, once he’d kissed three girls in a half hour (thank you spin the bottle!) So this was nothing to worry about. No big deal. It’s just Mickey. Just the girl he’d been into for the past year. His palms sweating had nothing to do with it, that happened sometimes. Not a lot. Okay, never. Not when it came to kissing girls. So it had to be some sort of new medical condition he’d need to get looked at. Along with the shaking. And his heart thudding against his chest. He made a mental note to get that looked at too.

He felt her hovering in front of him, close enough for that strange sensation to itch and curl beneath his skin, anticipation cracking like a livewire. A strong swoop lurched in his stomach when she asked “Ready?”, so close he smelled something sweet on her breath. Vanilla? A lock of her hair brushed against the side of his face, sending a shot of something pleasant down his spine.

He nodded, swiping his tongue against his bottom lip. (Not too wet, not too dry. Couldn’t have her thinking his lips were like sandpaper.) Breath? He thought back. Last thing he ate were a few ants-on-a-log back at the studio. Peanut Butter wasn’t what he’d go with, but it would do in a pinch.

Okay. You’re James Diamond! You’re in a world-famous band! You have great hair! You have great style! You have great lips! They’re perfectly pouty and pink and fantastic. It’s just a kiss. You can do this. Annnd….go!

James leaned forward, pursing his lips. Something touched his lips. His eyebrows lowered. Huh, her lips were a lot colder than he’d imagined. Just as smooth, though. And a little…pointy? What? Before he could react, something gave way and shot between his teeth, heading to the back of his throat. He coughed, the object shooting forward, bouncing on his tongue.

His eyes popped open, granting him the sight of Mickey and her shit-eating grin. His tongue rolled the object around in his mouth, smooth on all sides except for one point. A rush of chocolate swarmed his taste buds. A Hersehey’s kiss. He blinked, staring up at her.

“Did the Earth move for ya, honey?” she asked sweetly, her soft southern accent igniting the teasing sparkle in her eyes.

“Very funny,” James grumbled, chewing the cold bit of chocolate into small pieces. It melted fast on his tongue. Pushing a hand through his hair, he flopped back against the couch, doing his best to avoid her gaze. But that smile, so bright and satisfied, drew him back in and he found his frown lifting upwards.

Still grinning, she dropped down on the couch next to him. He noticed the plate in her hands, the surface covered with an array of purple swirls and designs resting atop white sponge dotted with color.

Funfetti cupcakes. His favorite.

She was forgiven.

------

“She moves left, she moves right, she goes left again-oh! Fake out! She’s on a breakaway! There’s no one standing between her and the net! Will she make it?” With a lunge, Mickey slapped a pretzel rod against the Oreo in the middle of the table. James dropped to his knees, opening his mouth in time for the cookie to slide against the smooth surface, coast past his teeth, and land on his tongue. Goal! “She does! She scores! And the Missles are the table hockey champions of the world!” Throwing her arms into the air, Mickey danced a little victory jig, chomping the pretzel rod in her hand as if putting an exclamation point at the end of a sentence.

Chuckling, James chewed the Oreo. Ordinarily he would already be mentally preparing his routine at the gym the next day to counteract all the sugar he’d eaten but he could skip it for one day. Tossing his own pretzel rod onto the table—he wasn’t going to make an exception for sodium, not when bloat could set in—he stood, brushing any miniscule bit of dirt off his knees. “Why didn’t you go to the hockey game again?” he asked.

Mickey’s eyebrow arched and she waved her hand around the room, motioning to the table, the leftover cupcakes sitting on the kitchen counter, and Bring it On playing on the tv in the background “And miss out on all this fun?” She winked and took another bite of the pretzel rod. “Not a chance.”

James smiled, a rush of warmth spreading through him.

The door burst open; Carlos, Kendall, and Logan rushed in, hooting, and hollering, waving towels and hats in a flurry. Katie and Jennifer entered behind them, wearing identical expressions, half of amusement and half of wariness.

“Hey guys,” Mickey greeted them, walking around the table. “How was the game?” Her answer came as a wall of sound when Kendall, Carlos, and Logan screamed in her face. Blinking rapidly, she wiggled a finger in her ear as she leaned away from them. “That good, huh?”

“It was awesome!” Carlos shouted. “First the Ducks were in the lead and then the Kings caught up to them but then the Ducks were in the lead again! And during the ice cleanings Bailey and Wild Wing came out and got into a shootout. And then they played musical chairs which is silly, you know, because why would animals need to sit on chairs—ooh! Cupcakes!” Breaking off, he made a dashing dive for the kitchen counter.

“Those are mine!” James shouted, making Carlos freeze with a cupcake halfway to his mouth. A whimpering sound fell out of his mouth as he looked back and forth between James and the cupcake.

“Be nice, there’s enough for them to have one,” Mickey said, rubbing James’s arm. “Go ahead, Carlos.” She barely finished her sentence when Carlos stuffed it into his mouth, paper still attached.

“Dude.” Kendall bumped James on the arm with the back of his hand. “We had to keep Carlos from tackling Bailey the lion for thumping Wild Wing’s bill in the stands. Could’ve used you to hold him back.”

“Is that the only reason?” James asked.

Kendall scoffed. “Of course not! I had no one else to cringe with when they messed up the National Anthem. You weren’t there to list off every stat for the Kings or the Ducks—down to what conditioner they most likely used.” James pushed a laugh out of his nose. “After the game ended, they let us skate around for a bit. T’somethin’ I always dreamed about, skating one of the biggest NHL rinks. Wasn’t the same without my wingman there to catch my passes without fail.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “We’re sorry we didn’t take your feelings seriously. Gustavo was rough on you today. We should’ve stayed with you, made sure you were okay.”

“You didn’t think I was being overdramatic?”

“Oh no, we totally did,” Kendall said, making James roll his eyes, “but halfway through the game I remembered that you get like that when it comes to things that are important to you. And it’s not fair for me, for us, to push that aside. So I’m sorry. We cool?” He extended his hand,

“We’re cool. You know I can’t stay mad at my bud,” James replied, clasping Kendall’s hand to pull him into a quick hug.

“And on that note, it’s time for me to go,” Mickey said, squeezing past them. Clutched in her hands were two Tupperware containers filled with cupcakes. “Are you feeling better?” Kendall’s eyes quickly ping-ponged between the two; he mumbled something about needing to polish his hockey puck and backed away.

James’ mind quickly scanned through a list of things he could say to keep her around a little longer. He came up with nothing. “I am, yeah,” James admitted. “Thanks for sticking around and keeping me company, Mickey.”

“Any time. If you ever want a rematch against the Missles, you know where to find me. We’ll be ready for you Diamondheads.” Leaning past James, she called out “see you, guys!” only to get distracted hand waves back from Kendall, Carlos, Logan, and Katie as they watched the game highlight on the news. She shrugged. “See ya, James,” she said, quickly tilting her fingers at him in a rippling wave.

He waved back, watching as she left the apartment. The door closed with a soft click. James turned on his heel only to stop in his tracks, noticing every pair of eyes in the room pointed on him. Eyebrows crinkling, his head tilted to the side. Usually he deserved attention, basked in it even, but he wasn’t sure what he did to get it this time. “What?” he finally asked.

“You were here with Mickey alone all afternoon,” Kendall said. “What happened?”

James shrugged, approaching the couch. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. We talked, watched some hockey, and messed around.”

“So you never hit on her?” Logan asked.

Kind of. “No, not really.” Hershey kiss substitutes didn’t count.

“Dude! This was your chance!” Carlos sprayed bits of uneaten cupcake out of his mouth as he shouted. Uttering a noise of disgust, Logan wiped the side of his face, shooting such a scathing look at Carlos it made him behind Katie. James laughed at the sight.

“Yeah, that’s not like you, James. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Kendall said.

“I’m feelin’ great, guys, really,” he assured them. “Gimmie another cupcake.” As he reached for the plate in Katie’s hand, he spotted something white under the pillow Kendall leaned against. He yanked it out with one strong pull. “Oh shoot,” he muttered. He got a series of asynchronous what?s answered him. “It’s Mickey’s sweatshirt. She forgot it.”

“Give it to her tomorrow. She’ll be at the studio,” Kendall pointed out.

James took in Kendall’s nonchalance with an incredulous shake of his head. He couldn’t do that. Well…he could but he couldn’t. Even if the built-in excuse for her to come back to the apartment was enticing, he wouldn’t feel right holding onto it. Not when he knew of her attachment to it, not just due to how soft and comfortable the sweatshirt was but to the band as well. When he thought about not having his Lucky Comb on him, even for a second, it sent shivers down his spine.

“No, I’ll just try and catch her at the elevator.” Clutching the sweatshirt tight in his hands, James dashed for the door. It barely opened far enough for him to fit through before he found himself out in the hall. He ran around a corner, nearly clipping it, slowing when he heard Mickeys’ voice.

“Thanks again for being so understanding. I know it was last minute…”

“Girl, it’s okay,” Jo said back. Hmm? James peered around the corner, spying Mickey and Jo standing in front of the elevator doors. She clutched a rolled-up script in her hand. “We can always go another day. It’s no big deal.”

“Thanks. James just looked so…defeated.” Mickey’s nose wrinkled. “It’s weird. I’ve never seen him like that before. I just…I didn’t want him to be alone.”

“I get it. I’m not going to be mad at you for being there for a friend,” Jo said, waving her hand in the air. “Buut…you’ll also be extra forgiven if I can have a cupcake.” Her eyebrows wiggled as she tapped a quick rhythm on the Tupperware lid.

Mickey laughed, popping the lid. “No problem.”

Jo eagerly dove for a cupcake, peeling the paper off halfway before taking a bite at the base of the treat. She brought a finger up to her mouth as she chewed, wiping away a stray smear of cream cheese frosting. “So…you must really like James to cancel going to that pie making class you’d been looking forward to for weeks.”

What!? James pressed his lips together, biting on them. The pulse of pain fell into sync with his rapid heartbeat. Jo’s lips curled in the corners and, beneath the hallway lighting, James swore he saw devil horns pop up on her head.

Mickey rolled her eyes. James squinted. Was that a blush on Mickey’s cheeks or a trick of the light? “Don’t even start with me, I gotta deal with all that at home.” The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Mickey stepped backwards into the elevator, jabbing at a button with her elbow. “…And I don’t not like him. But don’t tell anyone that!”

Jo mimed zipping her lips. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Swallowing the yelp fighting to shoot up his throat, James turned and headed back to 2J. He slipped into the apartment under the noise of aliens and troopers getting blown up in Biohazard 5 and Carlos’ jeers as he held his hand in front of Logan’s face.

“Did you catch her?” Kendall yelled over the noise, eyes glued to the tv.

“No, I missed her.” James made a beeline for the bedrooms, a soft smile sitting upon his lips. “I’ll see her tomorrow.”

[becamitchellsbeats]

Bechloe - Skype Night

Inspired by the Bellas performance of Love On Top!

Beca is isolating alone and is missing the Bellas more than she cares to admit. One skype call and a spontaneous burst into a song later and everything changes.Might continue it so lemme know your thoughts!]

-

Beca's music career had been put on a temporary hold as she was made to isolate at home, her hand wrestling to the bottom of yet another chips packet as she flicked through the TV channel for the 17th time. "Well this officially sucks" she groaned to herself, tucking her legs in closer as she eyed a photo frame on the TV cabinet,  it was the Bellas graduation photo, looking back at it she wished she smiled more for the photo, she looked so grumpy, especially when compared to Chloe who her eyes focusing on Chloe in particular.

Beca hadn't seen Chloe in around 2 months which felt like agony seeing as she was used to seeing her daily, not that she'd ever admit it. The emptiness of her apartment was also driving her insane, she was in a position of wanting company but not wanting to ask for it, especially considering it had bizarrely became against the law for the time being, something she never could of seen coming.

See, everything went to crap when the Bellas graduated, a virus had taken the globe by storm, and university life had changed drastically, Beca was glad they had graduated before all the changes but it now meant she was isolating alone.

Fat Amy, who said she'd be Beca's 'roomie for life' received a 'dodgy' lump sum from her father so of course she was off living in a massive house somewhere and Chloe, who was her other potential roommate had gone and got herself stranded abroad whilst helping out at a vet overseas to gain more exotic animal experience.

Beca reluctantly removed herself from the sofa, dragging her feet across the wooden flooring as she made her way into the bathroom. She stared at herself in her mirror, her bottom lip tugging as she winced at the sight. Hair tangled, Cheetos dust staining her once white t-shirt and chipped black nail paint.

Tired eyes looked her reflection up and down, her hand lazily hitting the nozzle on the taps splashing herself with some cold water. "Okay Mitchell, you need to sort yourself out jeez" she said whilst waving her finger at herself in the mirror, pointing at herself somewhat sternly, then lightly smirking at herself for her own weird behavior. "I'm officially losing it" she admitted.

Feeling motivated to freshen herself up Beca jumped in the shower, warm water running down her body as she collected her thoughts. Stepping out the shower and feeling immediate regret as the cold air wrapped itself around her body, she shuddered, eagerly grasping for her towel as her wet hair now covered her eyes. She huffed, trying to blow the clingy wet hair off her lips as she blindly reached for her hair brush. Groans filled the bathroom as her hairbrush tore through the knots in her hair, her eyes watering from some particularly painful knots.

Fully clothed and nails now painted Beca had just finished on putting on her signature eyeliner. She sat in her bedroom, that was surprisingly still tidy, but that was because she had barely managed to remove herself from the sofa. She rarely socialized nowadays, other than her occasional skype calls with the group, but she always felt funny about joining calls, she was a bit awkward about having her webcam on and well, all of them insisted they have them on so she'd often opt out.

Beca however was eager to speak to Chloe, which was hard to do as she was a key worker at the vet she was helping out at abroad, with time zones and Chloe's long hours she was often exhausted so she rarely had the time and Beca felt weird reaching out to the others, she refused to come across as clingy but secretly felt sad whenever they left their skype calls. She even felt disappointed when Jessica left her.

Her hand moved to flip open her laptop lid as she adjusted her hair once more "I'll just call her, she'll be home" she mumbled to herself as her mouse hovered over the call button on Chloe's contact.

"Why do I feel so damn nervous" she said fidgeting as she stared at her username "Okay after 3, i'll click the damn call button" she moved her mouse up once more as she counted to three, pressing down on the green button as her own video filled the screen whilst a ringing noise echoed out her laptop speakers.

"Man I hate staring at myself like this" she muttered as the whole screen was filled by her camera.

A red circle, with a hang-up symbol filled the screen. Beca's heart sank. "Bad timing?" she wondered.

_______________________________________________

Chloe's heart raced with excitement when Beca called. She was getting worried about her since she had been so far away, she would often flood her with texts making sure she was eating and drinking enough. She knew Beca was down about not being able to carry out with her record label work and she wanted nothing more than to be there with her, but she knew she'd been neglecting Beca lately, she just didn't have the time and the time gap only worsened things.

"You guys Beca is calling give me a second I'll add her!"

DontBelieveInLadders: [Quick AMBUSH her!]

________________________________________________

Chloe's icon flashed up on Beca's screen it was her wearing sunglasses cuddling a baby fox, a new photo it seemed. Beca now focused her attention on her laptop that was now ringing as it flashed up "Chloe Beale + 8 others" "Group call?" Beca wondered as she clicked the green phone icon.

"BECAAAA!" the group greeted in unison. "Oh sweetie you look so good!" Chloe said with a grin who was also visible on her webcam "And you've got your camera on! I'm so glad" she said excitedly."Someone made an effort" Fat Amy teased, taking notice of Beca's stylish yet casual appearance.

Beca looked away from her camera awkwardly "What? I always get ready pfft"

"You literally have no where to go" Fat Amy responded in a pitchy yet blunt tone "But thats okay Beca, self-care is important and Impress-Chloe-Care even more so"

Beca rolled her eyes "How long you guys been on a call for anyways?" her hands fidgeting with the items on her desk, just out of shot of her camera.

FlippingThroughBorders: {Oh we just started} Flo typed on the message box below

DontBelieveInLadders: {We're still waiting for Stacie and still setting up bits} commented Aubrey as she rustled around in the background for her physical webcam to plug in.

_______________________________________________

Stacie laid in bed, browsing memes on her phone, her attention was diverted when Emily's text popped up {Heeeey hurry up and join the group skype call!} Stacie dangled over her bed and grabbed her laptop from underneath her set of bedside draws. She blew the dust off the top of it and opened it up "I've not used this bad boy in a while" she said as she turned it on, the battery flashing orange from where it was getting low.

As she opened up her search engine it flashed up with her old google tabs, an explicit site was restored and automatically started playing the last video she was watching. Stacie's eyes widened "Well that's quite the greeting," her eyes bulging as she looked the model in the video up and down before shaking her head and closing the tab. "Now is not the time for that" she laughed to herself as she launched skype and joined the chat.

"Hey you guuuuuys" she greeted with a toothy grin. The Bellas greeted their soprano cheerfully., Stacie's eyes focused on Beca "Look who finally learned that isolation doesn't mean isolating from virtual calls!"

Beca rolled her eyes again "I join in!""Occasionally" Emily countered."Or when Chloe is in the chat" Fat Amy coughed

"Aw poor Beca" Flo said into the mic now she had got it set up.

Beca began snapping her fingers rhythmically, gaining even more attention from the group. "I'm not doing this with you guys"

"Ba bah bah ba, ba" Beca hummed trying to drown them out

"What is she doing?" asked Emily"Ba ba bah da..." Beca continued "is that?" Aubrey raised an eyebrow "I recognize that arrangement, is that, Queen B?" Aubrey said enthusiastically as she leaned forward in her seat.

"Oh my god you guys are we going to sing?" Chloe said excitedly clasping her hands together as she bounced in her seat.

"Aw yeah!! lets sing together tonight you guys" Emily beamed"Okay legacy calm down don't ruin it before we've begun" Amy groaned.

The Bellas began snapping their fingers and harmonizing as they began to develop more of a beat for the song Beca was starting off.

"Here we go" said Fat Amy as the beat had been accomplished.  A grin slowly tugged at Stacie's face as Lily began beatboxing. "i'll bring  owowowo beat in"

Beca glanced away shyly as she sang into her microphone.‎"Honey, Honeyyy, I can see the stars, all the waaaay from here, can't you see the glow on the--"

"windowpane" the girls harmonized in unison

"I can feel the sun, whenever you're near, everytime you touch me I just melt away" Beca's eyes glanced at Chloe occasionally as she continued singing.

Fat Amy then jumped in with a solo "Everybody asking why i'm smiling now from ear to eaaaarr!" ("You can say love hurts") "Well I knooooooow-OHHH" ("It's gonna take a little work") Fat Amy said raising her fist passionately.

"Nothings perfect but its worth it, after fighting through my tears!" Stacie sang strongly

"And finally you put me first!"  (dah-dah) the Bellas all sang in unison

The Bellas danced together, doing hand gestures and performing together in perfect harmony. As the song continued Beca felt herself feeling more confident again, her heart feeling full as it felt like everyone was finally with her again.Her eyes closing as she found herself getting lost in the moment.

"Chloe its you, you're the one I love, you're the one I need!"

"You're the only one I see, C'mon Chloe its yoooooou"

Beca blurted out raising the octvave as they were reaching the end of the song "you're the one who gives your all, you're the one I can always call!" the girls continued the beat but stared at her. This was the version Beca would sing on her own, as she often would change song lyrics to fit how she felt.

"When I need to make everything stop, finally you put my love on top"

Chloe paused for a moment, failing to continue singing as her mind tried to grasp the lyrics that had just left Beca's mouth, her face reddening with slight tinges as started singing through her smile and teary eyes.

Being a supportive team the girls continued to hold off on teasing her, after all it was one of the Bellas standards not to let distractions interrupt a performance. Fat Amy couldn't help but smirk as she sang, she was itching to tease Beca.

The DJ was in her own world, snapping and swaying in her seat, singing with her eyes closed she hadn't even realised what she had said untilt he girls changed the lyrics themselves.

"Oh Baby I can feel the wind whipping past my faaaace" Beca sang

"As we dance the night awaaaay" the girls harmonized.

"And girl your look it tastes like a night of champagne"  (oooh) Chloe sang solo

"As I kiss you again and again and again and again" Aubrey chimed in.

As the song continued the girls began grinning, looking over at Chloe and Beca, then back to eachother as they all nodded, clearly on the same wavelength as the song progressed.

"CHLOE ,its yoooou" they sang raising the octave.

"you're the one Bec loves! you're the one Bec neeeeeeeeds"

"WAIT, GUYS" Beca yelled as her face went a shade of red she had never gone before.

"You're the only one she sees! c'mon Chloe its yoooou, you're the one who gives your all, your the one Bec can always call, when she needs you everything you DROP,  finally! you say your love out loud"

"Baby, you're the one that I love, you're the only one that I need!" Chloe sang loudly with a cheeky wink as Jessica and Ashley dominated the top notes.

"C'mon Beca its yoooooou" the Bellas sang in harmony

"When I need you everything stops, finally you put my love on top" the group then faded out to a stop.

The girls all cheered and celebrated as they finished the spontaneous arrangement of love on top. "Crushed it" Amy said with a fist bump.

Beca had already retreated behind her hands, wishing nothing more than to have a wheelie-chair so she could move herself off screen with speed.

"So Beca, remember the last time at the ICCAS when you changed the lyrics, well this was certainly distracting but, it kinda sounded like a confession" Aubrey teased.

"Hmm, thats so ODD Aubrey, I TO was thinking that sounded like a confession to me"

"I mean I got ripped a new one for performing an orginal song at that riff off, but to lyric change Beyonce, you're bold Mitchell" Emily joked.

"Aw don't tease her guys, shes drowning, although Beca, you should know, I've experienced  drowning for real,so this is better" Flo joined in.

"There was no hiding that Becs, surprised you didn't notice!" Stacie grinned

Beca groaned "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you" she said behind the safety of her hands.

"Well duh, it wasn't my name you sang the word 'LOVE' next too, quarantines got you all soft huh" Stacie couldn't help but tease.

Beca slowly dragged her hands down her face, peering out from the tips of her fingertips. "It was that obvious huh... guess thats what happens when I have the place to myself to sing the wrong damn version."

Chloe cleared her throat "Well I for one found that really sweet Becs" she said with a smile that met her eyes as her hand rested on her chest "Honestly my heart is pounding! its a good thing I know how to do CPR well on animals but, y'know" she fanned herself with her hand feeling flustered.

"Yeah um that wouldn't work Chloe, you can't do CPR on yourself" Fat Amy said shaking her head.

"I-I know that its just" Chloe went red "I just--" she threw her hands up in the air "Oof just get over her and kiss me Mitchell, screw this virus, lets just isolate together"

Beca looked up "Man this is so embarrassing this wasn't meant to come out like this and--"

"I'm glad honestly!" Chloe said with a grin "it just makes being a part from you even harder" she whined.

"I just wish you weren't so many miles away" Beca groaned

"Y'all need a ride because I can fly a plane, I just ain't got no licence officially at least" Cynthia Rose commented with a slow nod. "If you know what I mean" she said clicking her tongue.

"Thats so sweet of you but highly illegal, the Bellas have been in enough trouble in the news so we better do things legally this time, ahem, that goes to you too Amy" Chloe said suspiciously looking over at Amy who had moved off camera.

"Whaaaaat" Amy groaned "Its not like I was up to anything suspicious on a dodgey website just now"

"C'mon ladies lets give these two lovebirds some space and go gossip in another chat!" said Emily as the Bellas all began to retreat from the call so only Beca and Chloe remained.

Chloe placed her hand on the screen "Can't believe i'm only saying this now after like what, three years but, I love you Beca"

"I love you too Chlo"

- End of part -

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I was thinking, what if Jake accidentally triggered Chris? Like maybe Jake casually says something that sir would say when he was about to punish Chris. He’d probably feel so guilty.

So this isn’t exactly what you asked for, but it hits on another ask I received and is very similar! (sorry, other asker, I ended up losing your ask because Tumblr sucks)

CW: References to past whump involving a minor. PTSD/trauma response to stressful stimuli. Includes description of stimming including head banging. VERY vague references to past implied noncon.

Chris’s mind runs fast. Not as fast as his mouth, but that’s okay, he can mostly catch up to himself if he works at it. His mind runs fast but it also derails and crashes on tiny details when he’s trying to finish his chores, and he never had chores before he came to live here but he doesn’t mind them - it’s just hard to get them done when there keep being so many other things to look at.

He’s supposed to be cleaning the living room, and it takes Jake maybe half an hour to do this but Chris has been at it for nearly forty-five minutes, he thinks, maybe longer… and he’s still just trying to finish dusting all the shelves.

The thing is - the TV is on, because he likes the background noise, but words keep catching his attention, little phrases and bits of information his brain wants to add to the constant loop of his thoughts. Plus - plus, on top of the TV and the swirly letters he can’t read on all the books, and the way the throw pillows have kind of a cool texture - on top of all of that, there’s a chipmunk outside.

He knows it’s a chipmunk because Jake told him about how they chirp, which he didn’t know before he came here. Chris mostly didn’t know anything before he came here, but he’s learning, piece by piece.

The chirping keeps catching his attention, drawing him away, slowing him down. He’s no good at cleaning, he can’t think about it long enough, cleaning is too slow and too methodical for his brain. But he likes doing chores, because chores mean he belongs here.

He fluffs a throw pillow, then runs his fingertips over the rough braided texture right down the center, a change from the silky-touch feel of the sides. Silk, rough, silk, rough, silk, rough.

His eyes start to unfocus, go slightly blank.

Silk, rough, just like-

“How’s it going, Chris?” Nat calls from upstairs. She’s turning over all the mattresses and changing the sheets today, Antoni is with her, while Leila works on cleaning the bathroom upstairs and Jake’s down here, in the kitchen, just a few feet away. 

“It’s, it’s, it’s it’s it’s good!” Chris calls back, jerking himself into motion, but he can hear the chipmunk outside still, calling and calling and calling. Is it missing someone?

Do I miss someone?

The thought breaks in, strange and uncertain, hardly his own. It’s plaintive, sad. It’s a thought that belongs to Baldur in the dark nights, and to the numbered boy before that in the flat white room. It’s not a thought that belongs to Chris, who stands next to the window and looks out into  sunny day. It’s not a thought he wants.

So he ignores it.

 Thoughts like that come with headaches that leave him shaking in the dark, and he’s very good at ignoring anything that might bring on the pain again.

He moves to clean around the windowsills, which - who ever heard of doing that, but it’s on the list she reads out to him, and he tries to remember everything. He’s getting better.

The chipmunk chirps outside the window, a kind of throat-swallow sound, and Chris finds himself echoing the noise, making a high-pitched eep-eep-eep sound. It doesn’t sound like the chipmunk at all, but the little animal goes silent outside when he does it, and Chris feels a thrill.

It understood I was trying to talk to it. Maybe it’s listening to me.

That’s a silly thought, and he tries to tell himself it’s stupid, but when he thinks awful things about himself he can kind of hear how Jake would respond if he said them out loud. You’re smart, Chris, you’re smarter than you think you are - you’re brilliant in there, we’re just bringing it back out. Don’t talk down about yourself. The way you think about yourself is how you think about the world.

Chris mostly loves the world, now. So he tries to love himself.

The chipmunk starts back up again, and Chris moves closer, a smile on his face. Slow, and careful, step by step, cleaning forgotten, he tilts his head and-… there it is. Tiny body no bigger than a mouse in a movie, reddish-brown with the black and white stripes across its head and down its back.

Jake says they have stripes like that because the things that eat them don’t see color like people do, and the stripes help them hide.

I wish I had stripes to help me hide.

But the thought doesn’t matter, because Chris doesn’t have to hide anymore. He puts that thought away, too. Lets it sink into the revolving mix of things going on inside his mind at any given moment. Right now it’s mostly the chipmunk.

His hand keeps moving with the rag in it, wiping back and forth across the windowsill, spraying the glass cleaner and wiping at that, too, but it’s half-hearted and he knows he’s leaving streaks. He just… can’t quite stop thinking about the little chipmunk he can just see, hardly a breath of an animal, sitting in Nat’s grass under the white birch tree in her front yard.

If you go to the tree you can peel strips of white and black bark away, easy as cake, like peeling away all his skin to find the real him underneath.

There’s a voice, behind him, from the TV. Smooth, genial, warm and slightly arrogant, the voice of someone who has total and perfect confidence in themselves. 

Chris drops the glass cleaner, the plastic bottle bouncing off the floor. The chipmunk catches some hint of the sudden movement and takes off, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

“Of course, Deborah. But I don’t think it’s fair to remove this right that’s been enshrined in our laws since 1952 just because a few protesters get their, well, I won’t say it in polite company. But just because a few protesters are bothered, that’s no reason to get rid of an entire system that’s working just fine. We need to crack down on abuse, of course, and these nasty rumors about illegal acquisition - which, I know the head of WRU personally, I can tell you that’s all a bunch of nonsense-”

Chris’s constant running barrage of thoughts comes to a stuttering halt.

He turns slowly around, cleaning rag still clutched in his other hand, his heart somewhere trapped around his knees, to stare at the TV.

There’s a woman on the screen right now, with blonde hair shellacked in a kind of circle around her head, wearing bright red lipstick and a dress to match. She tilts her head at a practiced angle, and Chris unconsciously echoes the motion. His free hand twists, fingers twitching in a kind of dance, before they tap against his own side. Tap-tap-tap-tap, the motion soothing him, calming him, a rush of something pleasant that fights the fear.

“Of course, Governor Branch-”

“Oh, how do I love to hear myself called that, still,” The man replies. He sits back, the slight shine of the light off his hair makes Chris dizzy. He can almost smell the hair product that’s in it, can almost feel the smooth fabric of the suit Sir is wearing slipping through his fingers.

That’s the one he wore the night Miss Megan saved me.

“Speaking of illegal acquisitions, there’ve been persistent rumors surrounding WRU and its competing corporations about pet abuse, abductions, even minors being put into the system. What would you say o the protesters and pet liberation groups asking for better, more thorough investigations? Would you support the call for a Congressional investigation?””

Sir laughs - it’s a lovely laugh, pulling a smile onto the woman’s face, it’s a laugh Chris has dreams and nightmares about - and Chris lets out a choked-off sound. 

Baldur, darling, you do know how to make a man laugh, don’t you?

His fingers twist faster, tap harder into his side. He steps away, stumbling gracelessly, until he can find a hard surface, the wall. He taps on it as fast as he can, a constant barrage of tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, holding back the worst of the fear, keeping it at bay.

The rush of the sensation isn’t enough to beat back the fog in his mind. He’s buying time but not enough. He can hear Jake singing to himself in the kitchen, and his mouth opens to call, to say, that’s him, that’s my Sir, that’s him on TV, but no sound comes out.

Outside, the chipmunk starts chirping again.

Chris slides down to the floor, curling himself up into a ball, staring fixedly at the screen. 

“Deborah, I have spoken to my good friend Timothy Rahm - current CEO of WRU, sorry, not all your viewers are going to know that, are they? - and he has assured me again and again that WRU has absolutely no minors in the system. They have strict physical examinations and quality control checks that ensure every single pet is of legal consenting age.”

Sir smiles, flash of bright white teeth. Chris thinks of whitening strips laid out in a little stray next to Sir’s sink. He had to look good for cameras. He does look good, in his suit with his tan and his sparkly amused eyes. 

Darlin’, don’t look upset. You’re going to stay right here in the basement for the party, can’t have anyone getting too good a look, can we?

But, but, but but I don’t like the, the basement, Sir I don’t-

Baldur. You’ll stay in the basement. No arguments.

Yes, Sir.

Chris leans his head over, until it thumps into the wall. Briefly, he feels a burst of better, a wash of something like adrenaline, but soothing, calming. So he does it again. And again. And again.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The chipmunk is silent, listening outside to the sound of Chris as his thoughts revolve and focus around the man on the TV.

He can’t hear what they’re saying any longer, he doesn’t try to. He lets the sound of Sir’s voice, melodic and warm, wash over and around him, but if he keeps thumping his head on the wall - if he keeps tapping, too, if he can just do both - he won’t let him in.

Get him to stop doing that thing with his hand, it’s annoying as hell. I don’t care how, tie his fucking hands down. Teach him not to do that anymore.

The voice wants to trickle under his skin, but a good thump - it’s not painful, it doesn’t hurt, it’s only a shake out of his freezing, it’s holding back the sounds that would hurt if they made it too far in - knocks it back out.

Not yours. Not yours. Not yours. Not yours.

He chants along with the thumps of his head, the taps of his fingers. He whispers without sound. 

Better now. Better now. Better now. Better now.

His eyes go unfocused, and Sir is gone, but Chris can’t remember quite how to find his own way back. He doesn’t know how long he floats there, waiting. He doesn’t even know what he’s waiting for.

Someone crouches down in front of him and Chris flinches - no, no, he’s not supposed to touch the walls any longer, he has to stop or he’ll be in trouble again - only to feel Jake’s warm hands on his shoulders, up his neck, on either side of his face.

Jake’s smell, simple clean shower-smell, nothing like Sir’s heavy cologne. Jake smells like soap from the shower and fresh-cut grass from mowing the lawn this morning and the sun that shone in his hair when he did it, while Chris watched from inside.

“Chris?”

“I, I, I, I… I I I saw, I saw, I saw-”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow in concern, a hint of worry lines across his forehead. “What did you see, man? Can you tell me what you saw? Can you tell me what’s in your head right now?”

Sir isn’t on TV anymore. They’ve moved on to talk about something else. Chris swallows, looking up at Jake, then shoves himself forward to push into Jake’s chest, tap-tap-tapping on his side. Jake doesn’t stop him, Jake never ever stops him, he understands the tapping helps. Jake only puts one arm around him and holds him tightly, leaving the other down so Chris can tap, twist-fingers-tap-shirt, again and again.

The simple, clean rush of calm, bit by bit, building a wall to fight back the waves of awful things that want to dig under his skin.

“Chris, I need you to talk to me. What did you see? What happened?”

Chris closes his eyes, thinks of Sir’s smile, just like it always was. His laugh.

Thinks of being good in the dark.

“I saw a chipmunk,” Chris whispers. “Saw, I saw, there was a, a, a-a-a chipmunk, saw a chipmunk, saw-… then the TV, I-… on the, the TV on the tv there was, um, on the TV-”

“Okay. Okay, I know that wasn’t it, but… do you need me to turn off the TV? Would that help?”

Chris nods into Jake’s shirt, clutching hard onto the fabric, tapping his fingers. Hold it back, hold it back, push back the fear and the noise. “Heard, on the TV, I-I-I heard, I heard-”

“It’s okay. Look, I’m going to-… there, if I stretch I can just grab it-” Jake reaches out with his free hand, shakes the side table next to the couch until the remote drops off of it onto the floor within his reach. He turns off the TV and the sudden lack of sound fills the room with a new kind of weight. “No rush, buddy.” Jake squeezes Chris’s shoulders with one arm. “No rush to tell me. Take your time. You’re okay, you’re right here with us, this is Nat’s house. Nobody’s here but us, and we’re safe. I’ve got you, man.”

“You’ve, you’ve got me,” Chris whispers. He feels an urge to thump his head on Jake’s shoulder like he did on the wall, but manages not to. Only just. He can still hear Sir’s voice, like music that won’t stop playing, like when you get a song stuck in your head.

Sir would hate him wearing Jake’s big T-shirt, would hate the silky-mesh basketball shorts he wears all the time. Would hate his knobby knees sticking out from them, his sharp elbows that dig when he doesn’t mean them to. Sir hated his cold feet under the covers.

Jake doesn’t mind any of those things. Jake gives him the shirts he likes, and holds him, and doesn’t stop him from doing the things he has to do to keep his mind from running away too far for him to catch it. Sir was on the screen, but Jake has him here, and only one of those things is real.

Outside, a bit of bark peels away from the white birch tree in the wind, slowly revealing soft, easily-damaged wood the color of pale human skin underneath.

[marvella15]

Astaire & Rogers Rewatch Part 6: Swing Time

• Swing Time aka the Astaire/Rogers film that I think is actually the best, especially from the dance perspective. Every duet is fabulous. You could watch just the duets and understand the entire plot of the film. That’s how well crafted and executed they are.

• Our characters/actors: John “Lucky” Garnett (Fred Astaire), Penny Carroll (Ginger Rogers), Pop (Victor Moore), Mabel (Helen Broderick), Ricardo Romero (Georges Metaxa)

• Is this the first Astaire/Rogers film where he’s the one engaged (or married) to someone else? It’s usually her. 

• Lucky is already ridiculously late for his wedding, even before he’s rushing to get dressed. But I love his little snap-and-a-heel-click. 

• How does Fred Astaire manage to look so dapper in shoes, a top hat, no pants, and a robe?

• It’s interesting that Lucky’s bride-to-be calls him John, rather than his nickname, which is tied to his gambling talents and therefore doesn’t fit in with her or her upper class family. But Penny only calls him Lucky. The two women even have a little exchange about it later in the film. 

• As usual, Rogers’ character is uninterested in Astaire’s upon first meeting and also as usual, she has a very good reason. She thinks he’s using any lame excuse to hit on her. Wow, look how much men have not changed at all.

By the way, 25 cents in 1936 is almost $5 today. Not saying it’s a reason to call the police but it’s at least not as outrageous as calling the police over a quarter. 

• Remember I said her cries for a porter in Gay Divorcee would come back? Here it’s reprised in her calls for an officer, which Lucky will also gently mock later just as Guy did to Mimi in the previous film.  

And wow, the officer is condescending and patronizing to her in deference to a man whom he thinks is an affluent gentleman. Look how much the police have not changed. 

• It’s odd that Lucky describes Penny as having red hair when Rogers was definitely a blonde (originally a brunette). Maybe she had strawberry blonde hair at this time?

• The tense exchange between Penny and Lucky as she teaches him to walk at the start of his dancing lesson is some of Astaire and Rogers at their acting finest. It’s a short, rather simple scene but they make it charming, funny, and entertaining. 

• Penny’s line, “If you’re trying to annoy me you certainly are succeeding,” is such a mood sometimes.

• Lucky, already starting to flirt: “All the world loves a dancer. Don’t you?”

• Astaire does a good job of acting like he’s a terrible dancer. Takes a lot of talent to pretend to suck at something you’re actually incredible at. 

• Pay attention to the three-step maneuver Penny teaches Lucky. He uses it as the building block for all of their dances in this film, beginning very soon with “Pick Yourself Up.” 

• I love the “Pick Yourself Up” duet so so much. As much as the romantic duets for Astaire and Rogers get a lot of attention, I really love tap dancing and this is one of their best tap routines. Plus, you can see Penny (thanks to Rogers’ intuitive acting) go from surprise to delight to pure enjoyment and maybe a little bit of well-deserved smugness. Also notice that Lucky and Penny are much closer together in this duet than they had been during the dancing lesson. They’ve already become familiar with each other in that short span of time. 

• Because of the nature of the scene, Astaire looks frequently at Penny’s boss but Rogers is watching Astaire almost the entire time. Her expression conveys the feeling that Penny has finally found the right partner.

• There’s a lovely moment where she glides back with her arms up as she waits for him and Rogers’ face is so full of joy and affection. 

• Astaire typically avoided naming a “favorite” partner out of consideration for the many other actresses he danced with. But he did comment that because of how well Rogers danced with him, “She got so that after a while everyone else who danced with me looked wrong.” And he’s kind of right about that. Swing Time as a whole is probably the best example. No other actress would look right in any of the dances they share in this film. 

• The moment of wordless conversation between Penny and Lucky after their dance feels very much like the actors themselves. In addition to having known each other prior to making films, they’ve also now spent the last 5 years working very closely together. No doubt they had some silent shorthand. 

• One of the reasons I enjoy Swing Time is because unlike other Astaire/Rogers films, the misunderstandings between them don’t emerge until later on, rather than appearing at the start to constantly obstruct their relationship. Here, Lucky and Penny begin their relationship almost right away. Just look at their cute conversation in front of the elevator where he hastily decides to get a room in the same building as her. 

• For the second time in this film, Astaire looks incredibly dapper while also being pantless. 

• At first it seems ridiculous that Lucky is picketing outside Penny’s room claiming she’s been unfair to him since he made them miss their try-out. However, he’s done everything to make it up to her, including arranging a new try-out for them, building up a sizable bankroll for him/them and Mabel, and, obviously, getting some new clothes. 

• Although they tried many things in Rogers’ hair to make it look like shampoo, I believe they landed on whipped cream at her suggestion. And they use it as a very convenient excuse to prevent yet another kiss. 

• Unlike other romantic songs in their films, “The Way You Look Tonight” is framed as a popular song of the time within the film itself. And we know this because Ricardo Romero is singing it in the next scene as part of his “romantic medley hour.” 

• Love the way Astaire looks at her during this social dance. So warm and loving. And when they leave the dance floor, he gets her attention at one point by hooking his index finger to the point of her elbow. Just little moments of familiarity between them. 

• More little moments: When Penny gets up from the roulette table, Lucky stops her until after the ball has landed, indicating he feels she’s good luck. Rogers is holding Astaire’s elbow as she goes to leave so he grabs her hand under his arm without looking. 

• I’ve always loved the look on Lucky’s face when he watches Romero approach Penny. It’s not jealousy or concern, necessarily. Just soft, like he’s wondering if his heart is about to be broken. And the music playing? “A Fine Romance”

• Lucky does everything possible to get Penny and himself the promised try-out including winning nearly $25k at the casino tables, then winning Romero’s contract, and eventually publicly goading Romero to play for them. But Mabel was right before when she told Penny that everything Lucky did was solely for her. He doesn’t need a new dancing gig, and had in fact come to New York to earn money as a gambler, rather than a dancer. That all changed when he met Penny.

• Remember a time when you were newly in love? The sheer elation of that feeling is what the “Waltz in Swing Time” is. It’s a celebration that builds on what was established in “Pick Yourself Up” and adds sweeping moments of romance. The three steps to the left and right move is expanded on first with outstretched legs and arms and later with exuberant movements around the floor.

• Right at the start, Astaire has a twinkle in his eyes when he looks at Rogers and she responds in kind. They smile at each other easily as they move through a fast-paced and breathtakingly beautiful routine. 

Usually in their films, a romantic and celebratory duet comes near the end when all of the misunderstandings have been resolved. But in Swing Time, it’s right in the middle. 

• There’s one moment where Astaire affectionately touches Rogers’ wrist. It almost looks as though he’s going to spin her towards him but instead they keep dancing separately, next to one another. 

• When the music kicks up, Rogers smiles broadly and she looks radiantly in love. As they spin together, tapping in a circle around the dance floor, both of them keep looking up in wonder and rapture. 

• They’re cuddling during the snowy scenes is very sweet but some of the romance is sucked out when you see the behind the scenes pictures. 

(photo credit)

• Cuuuuute:

Penny: “I like being off alone like this.”

Lucky: “You’re not alone. You’re with me.”

Penny: “Then I like being off alone with you.”

• Lucky’s face when he accidentally finds himself in an embrace with Penny is purely Astaire and you can fight me on that. There’s so much longing and want in that look. He’s able to get away with it because of the long moment before he has to say anything but even when he does speak, his voice cracks a bit. His gloved hand keeps stroking her forearm. 

• Not hard to see some true-to-life parallels in this dialogue and I’ve always felt that the way Astaire said his last line here was as himself, not just him acting. 

Penny: “It’s funny how we met, and all that’s happened to us since.”

Lucky: “The way we’ve been sort of thrown together and everything.”

Penny: “As if it were all meant to happen.”

Lucky: “It’s quite an experience.”

• Like I’ve said before, no way the actors and creative team didn’t know exactly how much they were trolling audiences by having lyrics like “a fine romance with no kisses” in Astaire and Rogers’ SIXTH. FILM. together where they still haven’t kissed romantically on screen. 

And in fact there will be at least two thwarted kisses in this sequence alone.

• “A Fine Romance” is quite scandalous when you pay attention to the lyrics too. Penny says Lucky won’t “nestle” or “wrestle” and she’s “never mussed the crease in [his] blue serge pants.” 

Rogers does a really wonderful job throughout. She’s frustrated and disappointed when singing at him and then stewing with hurt feelings when he sings to her. 

I’ve always loved how Astaire flatly says “cactus plants” in the lyric “you never give the orchids I send a glance, no you like cactus plants.”

• I always chuckle at the way Penny loudly and awkwardly asks, “HOW DO YA LIKE MY DRESS?” Who hasn’t suddenly gone awkward af in front of their crush?

• In the movie Grease, there’s a part where Rizzo has a hickey from Kenickie. According to Stockard Channing, actor Jeff Conaway insisted on giving her the hickey himself. But just in case you thought maybe Ginger Rogers insisted on leaving her own lipstick imprint on Fred Astaire’s lips, sorry to disappoint. A makeup artist came in and applied it. 

• And I adore how they’re both giggling and giddy after the supposed kiss. So much of this movie is about young love or your first real love, those butterflies mixed with terror and anticipation. 

• I always thought the club owner said, “Lucky, you’re a mess” after finding Penny and Lucky immediately after their first kiss. But he actually says, “Lucky, you’re on next.” Either way, Lucky’s dazed response of “Am I?” is cute. 

• Ok, the “Bojangles of Harlem” number. It’s the only time Astaire did blackface. It’s uncomfortable to watch even though he intended it as a tribute to African-American dancers Bill Robinson and John W. Bubbles. There’s also some very innovative use of 1936 special effects to make it look like Astaire is dancing with three of his shadows. Largely because of this, choreographer Hermes Pan was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Dance Direction. 

He lost but won an Oscar in the same category the next year, the final time that category was awarded, for a routine in Astaire’s only 1930s film without Ginger Rogers, A Damsel in Distress. 

• If Lucky had just let Margaret say her piece, he would’ve known that he’s actually not beholden to her anymore. But then we wouldn’t have one of the greatest dances ever put to film. 

• In all fairness on the kissing front, Lucky’s well timed entrance does prevent Romero and Penny’s kiss from appearing on screen.

• A heartbreaking exchange where they never break eye contact:

Penny: “Does she dance very beautifully?”

Lucky: “Who?”

Penny: “The girl you’re in love with.”

Lucky, meaningfully: “Yes. Very.”

Penny, after a beat: “The girl you’re engaged to. The girl you’re going to marry.”

Lucky: “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve danced with you. I’m never going to dance again.”

 • “Never Gonna Dance” is distinguished from the other songs in this film’s world because it’s not something that is also used in the dance studio or played by Romero’s band. Instead, it includes elements specific to these characters. The line “the la belle, la perfectly swell romance” recalls Penny’s line earlier in the gazebo. The reference to “dinner clothes” harkens back to Penny and Lucky’s first day together. The repeated use of the word “penny,” transforms in its final iteration to being her name when Lucky sings, “Though I’m left without my Penny.” The whole song is Lucky’s elaboration on his line above. Nothing matters now, not his clothes or money or dancing. All he’s going to do is love her. 

• The music of the dance and many of the moves are pulled from previous songs and dance numbers. A fittingly mournful version of “The Way You Look Tonight” plays as they walk together, which is also how Lucky began his dance lesson with Penny. Later, “Waltz in Swing Time” trumpets in to propel them into that same three steps move again but as euphoric as they were in that previous dance, now he is almost desperate and she is slowly letting him go. “Never Gonna Dance” is a compilation of their entire romance from start to heartbreaking finish and it’s a truly stunning duet. I know “Cheek to Cheek” gets a lot of hype, and it’s deserved, but “Never Gonna Dance” is something extra special and is certainly tied with “Waltz in Swing Time” as the best Astaire and Rogers duet in my book. 

In keeping with how much Swing Time breaks the tradition of Astaire/Rogers films, “Never Gonna Dance” is the duet where Astaire is trying to woo Rogers’ character, something we typically see earlier in the film but was never needed here. It’s also very tragic, something we almost never see in Astaire/Rogers films. Even “Let’s Face the Music and Dance” had a hopeful tone. 

• Their expressions in this number are especially poignant. He is imploring her to stay while she is gazing at him as though drinking him all in because she knows this will be the last time they’re together. While he is concentrating on pouring everything into the dance, she is memorizing every detail of this last dance with him, even watching him when he can’t see her. I know I talk a lot about Rogers’ acting ability during these dances but it never stops being worth mentioning. No other partner of Astaire’s got it the way Ginger Rogers did. 

• Thank god they cut this dance into two pieces so that they only had to perform this last bit again and again by itself, rather than having to start from the very beginning each time.

After two films that included “issues” with her dresses, Rogers this time has an issue with her shoes. Or rather, they did so many freaking takes (47ish) that she bled into them. And supposedly she didn’t complain at all because she was just as committed to getting the dance right.

She does the majority of the tough work in this final piece too. Not only is she spinning quickly and frequently, in the final spin she has to move towards where he waits, rather than him coming to meet her. 

Some credit to the level of trust they’d built though, Astaire’s arm is always ready well in advance of when she will spin into him. 

• Even as the duet is ending, Astaire keeps his face longing and hopeful. Lucky has done everything to win her back and as they move towards the door he thinks he may still have a chance. But in their last embrace where he holds her tightly to him, she tellingly doesn’t return the gesture and leaves both of her arms raised. When she exits, he grimaces as though his heart has truly been broken. 

• The ridiculous overacting when they’re all laughing is 🙄🙄🙄. Did the Joker unleash some laughing gas?? The silliness of this ending takes away from the rest of a truly excellent film. 

It also reminds me of the silliness of the beginning. If I had to guess, the writers probably had a great middle and no clue to how start or end things. At least, it feels that way.

• I do like how she sings a reprise of “The Way You Look Tonight” about him while he sings a reprise of “A Fine Romance.” And they go in for another kiss, pause, then embrace with his back to the camera because GOD FORBID we see a single dang kiss between these two!

Though I am left wondering just what Astaire and Rogers were doing in the final embrace because their faces do seem awfully close together...

• Swing Time is probably the last exceptional Astaire/Rogers film. Everything after this doesn’t quite measure up except in a few specific instances. That said, I do enjoy many parts of Shall We Dance, which is next. 

[mirror-juliet]

First time with fluffy/soft Seonghwa 🥺

Requested by Anon.I do hope you Like this darling. I tried not to be too self indulgent with myself here.

Tags: Fluff galore Maybe angsty if you squint like really really hard.First timeUnprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it)Pretty vanilla.

Shoutout list:@youneedapiratekink @echoesworld @vocalyunho @yunderful @choisans-dimples

If you don’t want to be tagged please tell me

“How long have we been together?” I say quietly to myself.Two years, it had been exactly two years yesterday when me and Seonghwa began to date. Why haven’t we done it?

By “It” i mean sex, we’re both adults who live in the same house, share the same bed and change in front of each other! So why does it make me flustered to think about me underneath him.‘Would he get bored of me if we don’t do it soon? No, he isn’t like that. But what if he is.’ I sink down into the tub, allowing the water to cover my shoulders. I wouldn’t even know what to do, Seonghwa is the first person I’ve ever been this serious with. For God’s sake he was my first kiss!

That’s it, enough with worrying myself on the matter, time to fix it.

“Seonghwa!” I shout, hoping he’s close enough to the bathroom to hear.No response

“Seonghwa!”Running can be heard outside the door, Seonghwa quickly opening it.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Seonghwa has a look of worry painted on his face, he was obviously in the middle of reading, evidence still in his hand. He must have been too caught up in his mind.

“I’m okay…….Sorry for worrying you.” He lets out a sigh of relief and leans against the door.

“Okay, so what did you need baby?” Oh, what did i want him for? What was my plan after he came in here, Do i want him to climb in with me? Or do i want him to do more to me……? All of a sudden i feel rather vulnerable under his gaze.“W-will you read to me?” My eyes look to his book, pulling a quick excuse out of my ass.

He grins, teeth peekabooing behind his lips.“You called me in here, to read to you?”

“No-Yes-I don’t know. I think i just want your company right now.” I look down at my hands that float in the bubbles.

“Alright. Give me a second.” Seonghwa escapes out of the bathroom, coming back with a chair that he places right next to the tub.

Instead of the story, i focus more on his calming voice, imagining all the sounds he could make with it. It has me rubbing my legs together.“Y/n? You in there still?” Seonghwa places a hand on my shoulder, startling me.

“Oh, yea. Sorry i zoned out, where were we in the story?”

“What are you thinking?” He places his book down, crawling onto his knees to sit closer to me. His fingers dance across my cheek, his eyes look into my own. “Tell me what is going through your beautiful mind.” How is he so beautiful. “Darling?”

Scarlet blooms across my face and ears, I still in the water thinking if he knows my thoughts already.“I…..I don’t know what i’m thinking. It’s complicated.”

“I’m sure i can keep up.” His fingers cup my face. They are oddly calming.

“We’ve been together for two years. A-and we haven’t done anything together. I mean, we have done lots of things together like sleep in the same bed and change and eat and live an-”

“Baby, you’re talking too fast. Take a deep breath.” I do as told, letting it out as he mimics my movements.“Now. Continue.”

I take his hand in mine, tracing the tendons and veins, his bones even feel soft. “Can….Can we be intimate t…together?” My eyes refuse to meet his.

His hand on my cheek moves to make me look in his eyes. “We are intimate all the time. Right now our eyes are looking into each others souls, Every time we sit in each others company we are processing our energy into each other. Intimacy is about our souls being at peace with one another.”

His lips meet mine tenderly. I didn’t realize him growing closer to my face. Our lips caress each other’s, melting our energy’s together. Seonghwa deepens the kiss by cupping my face with both hands, his thumbs rub lightly against my cheek.My breathing becomes heavier, our breath’s brush deeply through our noses; mine does at least. I can’t tell if he’s breathing as rapidly as me or if i am just blowing my breath back onto myself.My hands fist in his shirt, trying to pull him closer to me, surprised he isn’t in the tub at this point

Seonghwa pulls away along with a weak whine from my lips. “Seonghwa i need you. I need to be closer to you.” My breathing is still rapid, i work to pull his shirt off.

“Lets get you out of the tub first.” He grabs a fluffy towel and helps me step out of the tub. I’m not worried about him seeing my body, we’ve already seen each other like this before.

He can barley dry me off before i throw my hands around his shoulders, pushing myself flush against him.God i love his shoulders.I all but rip his shirt over his head as he walks us to the bedroom, clothes coming off one by one to littler the ground.

He lifts me up and places me on the bed, crawling over me. He pauses to press our foreheads together.“I want to make sure you don’t want to do this for me. If you aren’t ready i can wait as long as you need. You don’t have to please me.” Our eyes meet once again, another intimate moment. I wonder if this is more intimate than making love together.

Do i really want to do this for him? Or do i want to do this for me? His hand is rubbing against my cheek. Is he smearing something on me?

“You’re crying.” I hadn’t realized. He says it more to himself than me.

“Seonghwa i want to do this. I want you to be my-. I want to be ready, i really do……”

“You aren’t though.” He rubs circles into my hip, still cupping my face.

My hands reach up to cover my eyes. I don’t want him to see the tears dripping down my face, to see how stupid i look.“Y/n.”

“Please don’t look at me right now.” My voice hiccups with tears. Why am i crying like a little girl? I’m an adult for fucks sake.

“Hey. You are beautiful, even if you aren’t ready. You will always be beautiful to me.” He takes my hands away to kiss my tears. A half-hearted giggle flows out

“I’m scared Seonghwa.”I’m scared. I am afraid. It takes me to say it out loud for the thought to really set in. What if fear takes over me halfway through it, what if i break down in front of him. More so than i am right now.

“Its okay to be afraid. Sex is very scary to everyone. You aren’t stupid for admitting your fears.” How is he able to nearly hear my thoughts.My hands find themselves back to his chest. Maybe i’m trying to distract myself from his eyes that refuse to look away.

“Can we still do this. Even if i’m afraid?” The possibility of him rejecting me frightens me more than the act itself.

He smiles so warmly at me, it seems to dull the fear i feel boiling inside me.“Of course Y/n.” It bubbles back down.

“But you have to promise me something.” My face must read something close to dread because he speeds up his next words. “You have to tell me everything. I need to know if you feel uncomfortable. No more beating around the bush.We can stop anytime you need.” He kisses me on the forehead.

“I promise, Hwa.”

Our lips join together once again to dance like they had in the bathroom. Sweet and sensual, emotions singing to each other as our saliva mixes into one liquid. “Hmmm.”I involved my headspace too much into the kiss to not notice his hands rubbing against the dip in my waist.

My hands pull him closer to me, i try to deepen the kiss and rub myself against him. He pulls away just barley from my lips.“You’re trying too hard to impress me. Let me take care of you this time.”

With shaking hesitance i allow myself to relax into his touch, finding that my skin becomes much more sensitive now that it isn’t rigid. His hands rub downward to my rump, taking it in his hands. They fit almost perfectly on my cheeks He lifts my legs up by my hips, tracing them down my thighs to wrap them against his own.

Is this happening right now!? So soon?“Don’t worry, i’m just getting your body used to mine.” His phrasing makes me blush again. No doubt raking down my chest.

Seonghwa takes my arms in his, putting them above my head; holding them in place with one of his.“S-seong” He doesn’t let me finish his name before he retreats his hands back to my sides. Almost like he had to remind himself not to get too carried away.

“I’m sorry my love.” His lips dip down to attach themselves to the side of my neck, gently sucking.“Hmmmm.”

Its a spot he’s abused before, when we would get caught up on the couch or anywhere i found myself in his lap. Now it has new meaning.Something brushes against my thigh….Is that what……Oh my. Are they all that…..size?

“I thought i told you to relax.” His voice is demanding, only slightly but still enough. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Practicing what we preach now? Does he always have to ground himself like this?

“How are you feeling?” His hands run across my legs, sides and anywhere he can feel. Everywhere besides the mounds on my chest.

“I feel….Like….My breath was taken away. Is it always this hard to breath?” Seonghwa laughs a little

“Sometimes, when you give me a moment to share with you. I ask myself that too.” His hands slide closer.“Now.” Bulls-eye “How do you feel.” He gently squeezes them. Why does it feel so good at such a simple and subtle movement.

“Or this.”

“Hmmm.” He pinches the nipples on them, twisting slightly.“It feels good, Hwa. But please do more.” Was this begging?

“Looks like you’re getting impatient. That’s okay, i’ll be slow for the both of us.”

“Mmah!” His fingers dips down to stroke against my lower parts, my lower lips. Please do something more please do something more.My eyes dart around the room to ground myself against something-anything else than this finger-“Ah!”

They dip further, past my folds, up to his second knuckle i think. Is that, a wet sound. My eyes wander back to him.“Is it supposed to sound……”

“Wet?” He finishes for me. I nod my head, i think i would just cry if i open my mouth again.“Yes, it is normal for it to sound wet. Does it hurt?” He adds a second finger, adding to the uncomfortable stretch. It stings a little bit.“Y-Yah” My hand clamps over my mouth.

“Ngah!” His thumb grazes over a spot that has my hips bucking into his hand. “Hmm-ah” Again.Seonghwa notices my movements, running over that spot more often.

“S-seonghwa. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Not a lie, but not the full truth either. The pleasure outweighs the pain at this point.

“Are you ready to feel something even better now?” Am i?

“Oh!” He doesn’t let me think for long, he prods at my entrance with the head of…..It. I grab onto his forearms as he pushes his length in. It hurts, much more than his fingers.

“Okay please stop!” The pain becomes to much. It stings too much.He wipes the tears that prickle at my eyes with his thumb.

“I wont move until you tell me to.” His words are reassuring, i’m just as much in control as he right now.Seonghwa rubs against my cheek until it stops hurting as much.

“Make it less uncomfortable please.” I squeak out and he starts to move his hips.“Ow!” Something prickles down, i swipe it with my finger

“S-Hwa. Th-there’s blood. Why is there blood!? Hwa why is there blood?!” My hand shakes in front of my face. Seonghwa stills it with his.

“Shh Shh, its okay Y/n. Your hymen just broke, that’s supposed to happen the first time.” He pushes my hair out of my face.“Does it hurt terribly?”

“Mmhmm.” I nod my head.

“Do you want me to pull out?”

“No!” My words are too quick, showing off my emotions too well. “Just….Move.”He follows my command, his hips moving slowly…Too slowly.

“Faster.” Why is my face heating up. But it isn’t really heat, more like fuzz is growing on the inside.  The feeling pulls me further away from the pain.

“What does it feel like right here?” He places a hand on my lower stomach. It feels like butterfly’s are fluttering against my insides.“Ngagh!” Whines leave my mouth, something’s building up.

“Wha- It. S-something’s h-mmmm-ppening.” My grip on him tightens. No-Why is he speeding up. Not that it feels bad, but oh my GOD-IT FEELS SO GOOD!

“Ahhhmmmm!” Heat pours all over my body, enveloping me in white, my legs shake as i begin to loose myself.Was this intimacy? feeling him next to me. His breath against my skin, having so much pleasure all i can do is cry and whine?

Intimacy is much more than that. It was him taking care that i would be alright in every second of this new experience. Is there something on my stomach?

“Y/n? Are you okay? Jesus, please answer me.” Oh, Seonghwa is petting my hair. It feels nice.“I’m okay. What’s on my stomach?” I ask as i pry my eyes open

He laughs. “What do you think.” a finger swipes through it “This is.” and puts it near my face. It’s white and strings between his fingers.

Both of us laugh, Seonghwa rests his body on top of mine. “I love you Y/n”“I love you more, Seonghwa. Thank you for being my first.”

The ending kinda pisses me off but i still like it none-the-less. I hope you enjoyed it too Hun

[lunarimagines]

BTS REACTION TO THEIR S/O CUPPING THEIR FACE AND KISSING THEM

Namjoon: He’d heard you come in the studio and he was quick to save his file so that he could turn his full attention towards you. He was just beginning to swivel around in his desk chair when he felt your hand on his cheek guiding his face to turn towards you. He looked, opening his mouth to ask you what was up, when you fully cupped his face and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. You pulled back and smiled at the loving, though slightly dazed, look on his face before explaining that you just wanted to give him a quick kiss before you headed bed and that you didn’t want him to stay up incredibly late. In return he cupped your face and brought you in for a longer kiss, his lips warm and soft against yours and his thumbs lightly tracing circles on your cheeks.

“I think it’s time for me to go to sleep, too.”

Jin: Jin was used to doing “domestic” things with you. He didn’t know how the “domestic” thing had come about but he figured that it was because he always loved spending time with you regardless of the activity you two were doing. He would lovingly tease you as you swept the floor, cooked dinner, and folded laundry together. This occasion was no different. He’d been helping you build some new Ikea furniture - something that could lead to marriage or a breakup according to him - and he couldn’t help but laugh as the screw you were trying to screw in slipped out of the hole and fell to the floor with a soft ting, you diving after it before it could roll underneath the couch and be lost forever. His laugh seemed to echo around the room as he re-enacted the scene, dramatically diving towards you. You rolled your eyes as he began to dive towards you again, only this time you decided to do something about it. Catching his face in your hands, you cupped his cheeks to pull him into a quick kiss before releasing him. He raised his eyebrows at you before, get this, copying you by cupping your cheeks and kissing you back. He was cheesy but you loved him and he knew it.

“I don’t think my face was that dry when you did it.... you can always borrow some of my lotion!”

Yoongi: Yoongi liked small forms of affection with you. He felt your relationship should be enjoyed by the two of you and the two of you only. That’s why he was currently sitting in his studio with your hand intertwined with his as he listened to a new track he was working on. His thumb kept tapping to the tempo of the song and it had begun to lull you into something of a stupor as you flipped mindlessly through a book. It was so comforting you almost forgot where you were. It wasn’t until Yoongi removed his hand from yours to type something into the saving file that you were brought back to reality. You watched Yoongi’s bottom lip form a pout as he typed and you couldn’t help yourself. Really, who could blame you? Standing up and moving closer, your reached down to cup his cheeks and guide him to look at you. His mouth was slightly parted, probably to ask you what was wrong, when you kissed him. Your lips spotted against his perfectly and you sucked softly on his lower lip before pulling back and smiling down at him. He turned back to his work with a smile, placing a soft kiss against your hand as he turned his head. You could have sworn you’d heard him mumble something...

“I love that almost as much as I love you...”

Hoseok: He’d been exhausted after filming a new BTS Run episode when he’d plopped onto the couch beside you, his head falling on your shoulder. He planted a soft kiss to your shoulder before sighing deeply. You cupped his face gently with one hand and kissing his forehead softly before suggesting he put his head on your lap. He quickly obliged and snuggled into your lap, his face relaxing as you began running your fingers through his hair softly. He grabbed your other hand and began playing with your fingers as he talked about his day and told you a funny thing Taehyung had done and a terrible punishment he’d had to endure because his team had lost. You hummed softly until Hoseok stayed silent. Looking down you saw he was fast asleep, his lips parted slightly. You smiled as you settled back into the couch. One night not sleeping in your bed wouldn’t hurt....

“Thanks for always listening to me, Y/N.”

Taehyung: He loved to mess around with you on the set of BTS Run after he’d finished filming for the day. He would call you twenty minutes before he finished filming so that he could share every Run experience with you. Currently the two of you found yourself at a VR place. You watched as Taehyung slipped on the VR headset before following suit. He’d decided to try the racing game with you because while he’d enjoyed the other games he’d found that this game he could play with you easily. You weren’t planning on letting him win but he had the upper hand as he’d been exposed to it before. He beat you by a few seconds, cheering wildly. You pulled off your headset to see his smile and you could tell his eyes were shining behind the headset. You couldn’t help but cup his cheeks with a laugh, leaning down to kiss his nose. This made him smile impossibly wider.

“Is this my prize for winning?”

Jimin: Ever since you’d shown Jimin a “haul try on” video he always wanted to show you everything he’d bought and give you a fashion show. He loved how you got really into it, snapping photos and adjusting his jackets to make them look perfect. He loved the hype. He was currently showing you what he’d gotten while he was on tour, striking poses and giggling. All of the outfits were so... Jimin. Classy, elegant, and a little rugged, you found yourself stop laughing when he unveiled his final outfit to you. It was a handsome suit, black tie and all, that made him look absolutely stunning. You couldn’t help but walk over to fix his slightly crooked tie, your eyes catching Jimin’s. He smiled softly at you and you let your hands wander higher to cup his cheeks, running your hand over his cheeks softly and placing a soft kiss to his lips. Moving back you let out a breath.

“You look so handsome, Jimin.”

“I need to look handsome when I’m standing next to someone as stunning as you, Y/N.”

Jungkook: Jungkook loved to mess around with you. He loved to dance wildly to music with you, sing karaoke songs drunk with you, even jump on the bed, not his bed of course it ruins the bedsheets, while laughing hysterically with you. Anything to make you laugh, Jungkook would do. Currently, the two of you were in the dance practice room and Jungkook was mock-formal dancing with you, one hand clasped with yours and the other on your hip as he swung you around the room. His face was scrunched with laughter at the expression on your face as he suddenly made you catch him as he dipped down, resting his shoulders on your arm and sticking his foot straight up in the air. The two of you tumbled down, Jungkook shifting so that he fell first and you fell on top of him. You were gasping as you laughed, your hands cupping his cheeks to wipe away a tear, he was laughing that hard, as he laughed up at you. Jungkook was the one to lean up to kiss you. The kiss was mostly teeth, but that simply made the two of you laugh harder, Jungkook falling back against the floor, his hair fanning out around his head slightly.

“I love this and I love you.”

[mrsalwayswritex]

End up here

a/n: This gif has literally nothing to do with this story, but i mean come on. the man is beautiful!

pairing: Ben Hardy x reader

warnings: I mean I tried to do the smut thing but I chickened out, so have some heavy petting? I swear this was the best i could do, y’all.

song rec: I listened to and even mentions Body Party by Ciara, its pretty much how i imagined the dance scene going

You always end up here. It was never really a thought out decision on your part, to be honest. You knew that it would never go anywhere, never become anything, but here you are again. It started just like it did every time, and this time you had come to the realization that this wasn't you should be doing.

When Gwil called you hours ago to go out for drinks with everyone, you should have said ‘No’, you should have just stayed at home with netflix and a cup of tea, but before your brain could tell your mouth to shut up you were agreeing and then smacking yourself in the forehead. Gwil couldn't have been happier, gushing about how much they missed you.

Honestly, you missed them too, but after the last few times when you were forced to do the walk of shame before morning even came, you had started declining the offers. You missed your friends and it was time to be a big girl and own up to your behavior. So you sucked it up, threw on some jeans and a hoodie, thinking it was a nice ‘leave me alone, I'm not interested’ vibe, and walked out of the door.

It didn't take you long to walk to the bar that Gwil had directed you to, being only a few blocks away, and pulled open the door, the smell of smoke and alcohol filling your nose in a weirdly pleasant way. You shouted when you saw your friends at the table, Lucy standing up and squealing as she ran to you happily. The two of you hugged tightly, smelling the alcohol on her breath as she kissed your cheek. Dragging you back to the table, you smiled at everyone, giving out small touches, an arm squeeze for Rami, cheek kisses to and from Joe, a giant hug for Gwil, and then you saw him. Ben. You leaned towards him for a hug, but he kissed your cheek instead, hot breath fanning over your ear in the process. Shit.

Hours went by and the shots seemed never ending. At some point Lucy pulled you onto the small makeshift dance floor, made only because tables were moved, and started waving her arms wildly to the music. You laughed at her before she grabbed your hands and started shaking you around with her, both of you giggling madly. When the song was over and a slow jam started, Lucy and you laughed and hugged each other close, the boys shouting and clapping from the table. When you started to walk back to the table, Lucy grabbed your arm and gave you a sly smile.

Pointing to the speaker in the corner of the room, you listened closer to the song. You groaned and Lucy threw her head back in laughter as you stood side by side, both watching the other closely as you started to dance slowly. Body Party by Ciara floated through the speakers and you were instantly transported back to middle school dances and inappropriate dance moves that you thought were cool. Turns out, Lucy had done the same thing when she was younger, cause lets be honest, who hasn't. One wine drinking night with Lucy and the two of you had made up your own, rather provocative dance, to the song. Which Lucy had apparently wanted to do, right now.

As the music played, you closed your eyes and moved along with Lucy in a slow and sexy synchronized dance, that the two of you may or may not have practiced many times since the wine night. As you turned your body to face Lucy, she winked at you and you smile back at her. You glanced over towards the table where the boys sat, tapping Lucy lightly and nodding towards the table. When you saw four pairs of eyes following every move the two of you made, your alcohol soaked brain decided it would be a good idea to lock eyes with him, the one you had been avoiding thinking of all night. Ben. 

Lucy saw the look you exchanged, your eyes hooded as you rolled your hips with the beat, hands running slowly through your hair and your bottom lip held snugly between your teeth. Suddenly the thing turned into something more for you, you were singing along to the song, eyes locked with Ben, seeing his jaw clench and unclench before he pulled his lip between his teeth as he stared. You knew that had you been sober, you would never be doing this, but here you are, grinding yourself on Lucy as she ran her hands down your back softly. When the song came to an end, there was clapping, whistles and more being shouted at you both from half of the people in the bar, so when Lucy laced her fingers with yours and raised them in the air, you bowed with her while you both laughed and panted hard.

The song changed to the next one, but you lifted your hand to your mouth, signaling that you needed a drink and Lucy nodded quickly in agreeance. It didn't hit you until the short walk back to the table what you had done, when you locked eyes with Ben again. His eyes were dark, filled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on, but it made you shiver slightly, a shy smile appearing on your face.

The whistles and claps continued once you got back to the table, and Rami instantly had his hands on Lucy who gave him a small kiss and a wink. Gwil, ever the gentleman, sat there quietly clapping for you guys, seemingly unphased by the scene that had unfolded before him. Joe on the other hand, quickly let his gaze flicker back between you and Lucy. His mouth was open wide until Gwil reached over and closed it, that seemed to snap him out of his trance and he cleared his throat a blush appearing on his cheeks as he took a drink.

Sliding into the seat next to Ben without thinking, he leaned over and whispered praise in your ear, another shiver shot up your spine, making you sit straighter and Ben smirked at you. Wordlessly, he handed you a shot and clinked his glass to yours as he threw it back and you did the same. Moment put on the back burner, your group began chatting like normal, only a few mentions of the dance from then on. When you leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, Ben shifted so he was leaning forward, his fingertips running lightly along your calf.

You tried to push the burning sensations coming from his fingertips out of your mind and took a sip of a drink from the table, not caring who owned it, everyone staring at you as you set it down. Ben cleared his throat and reached for the cup you drank from, smirk on his annoyingly beautiful face. When you met his eyes again, they looked dark and heavy and they weren’t leaving you, even as he took a drink and handed it to you with a wink.

That moment seems like it happened in another lifetime, with as much has happened since. But that brings you right back here and now, sliding into a cab with Ben close behind, so close you can feel his breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck. You're eyes closed at the feeling but you quickly snapped out of it when he growled softly, smacking your ass lightly pointing to the cab. Once seated inside, Ben slid in and gave his address to the driver and then his arm was around your shoulders, thumb rubbing lazy, torturous circles on your denim clad thighs.

The ride back to Ben’s apartment seemed like it took hours, especially with Ben leaning close to your ear and speaking in his lowest voice, it felt like there was fire inside your veins and Ben’s voice was just adding gasoline to it. Before the cab was even at a complete stop, Ben was shoving the cash into the drivers hand and he had the door half open, pulling you quickly up the steps. This is how it always happens, he would touch you lightly, whisper in your ear, everything he could do to get you riled up. He knew that you would be putty in his hands, and he fully intended on getting his hands on all of you.

You made it to his door, his hands on your waist as he pushed himself against you towards it, effectively trapping you between his body and the door. Pushing your hair from the side of your neck, he ran nose from your shoulder to your ear, leaving little nips along the way, a happy sigh escaping your throat. Unlocking the door, his hand wrapped around your waist to hold you to him as he pushed it open, slowly walking you both inside.

Once the door was closed, all bets were off, and soon so were the clothes. He pulled your hoodie over your head, sucking in a breath when you only wore a bra underneath. Ben stepped forward and slid his hands along your bare skin, eyes closing at the contact, when his hands slid up your waist and onto your back reaching up and unclasping your bra. Pulling away from you to pull the garment off, tossing it like it had personally offended him, he stepped back even further and you whimpered at the loss of contact. When you met his eyes, they devoured your topless body, giving you the confidence you needed to surge forward and crash your lips to his.

Ben wrapped his fingers in your hair and pulled lightly, pulling your head back to expose your throat, which he wasted no time in getting his mouth on it, earning a soft sound of pleasure. You wrapped your arms around his neck, scratching your nails gently over his scalp and his chest rumbled. Your hands on his chest pushing him backwards earned you a low growl which you felt from your ears to your toes and everywhere in between. Leaning up onto your toes your pressed your lips to his, working your way down his jaw as he tilted his head back for you. Your fingers working, undoing the buttons of his shirt before it was pushed to the floor, forgotten. 

Continuing your ministrations you kissed the whole way down his neck, knowing exactly when and where to bite him lightly to get a deep moan from him, you smiled as you kissed lower and lower, down his chest until you were eye level with the button of his pants. Sitting on your knees and looking up at him through your eyelashes earned you another growl and his hand back in your hair as he pulled roughly. You made quick work unbuttoning and unzipping and peppering light kisses along the top of his boxers, almost to the treasure you so desperately wanted until he pulled tightly on your hair, forcing you to stop and you whined. 

Pulling you up gently, Ben wrapped his hands around your waist and roughly pulled your bodies together, the skin to skin contact making you gasp slightly, which he used as the perfect time to connect your lips again, his tongue wasting no time and sliding along your lip, and you gave in instantly, your tongue meeting his eagerly. You again reached for his pants and pushing them down around his ankles before he stopped you, now standing in just his boxer shorts. “No fair, love.” He whispered in your ear lowly as his fingers burned trails of fire from your belly button straight to your core. He fidgeted with the button of your jeans and, frustrated, he pulled his lips from yours to focus on those damned jeans.

Laughing lightly, you pulled away from him, hooking your fingers into your waistband and rolling your hips seductively as you popped the button open easily. Running your hands from your waist up your body, lingering on your breasts, you bite your lip and locked eyes again, watching his eyes follow your fingers on your chest. Bravely running your fingers in a circle around your nipple and gasping lightly as your nails scratched over the sensitive area. Ben let out a frustrated grunt as he tried to step towards you again, you backed away with a cheeky smile on your face, hands cupping your breasts and throwing your head back in a soft moan. Your hands slid back down your body, pulling your jeans off slowly until you stood bare before him.

“No shirt, no panties? What were you planning tonight, love?” Ben chuckled deeply as he walked around you in a circle, hand connecting with your ass and you hissed, jumping slightly. His hand trailed around your body as he kept walking, hand dipping lower to almost where you wanted him to be, before he slid it back up your body. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, now directly behind you, his tongue flicking out to trace the shell of your ear. Tossing your head back onto his shoulder, he slowly kissed, licked, and bit along you collarbone, grabbing your wrists and pulling them both above your head and around his neck. “Perfect.” He seemed to be whispering to himself and that just got you more worked up.

Ben was loving this view, with your arms over both of your heads, your chest rose up higher. Sliding his hands up, his fingertips ghosting over your nipple, a whimper falling from your lips as he did it again with more force behind it. You arched your back, pushing your back into his front and he groaned deeply, his hips snapping forward automatically. 

This was usually around the time when you realized that, earth shattering sex or not, this was never going to be anything different for the two of you. It seemed like the only time the two of you got along well was when one of you was panting underneath the other. This is how it always happens. “Ben, wait.” You whispered, silently hating yourself for making this stop. Quickly stepping away from you, Ben grabbed his shirt from the floor and offered it to you, but you shook your head. “What are we doing here?”

Ben stepped closer, dropping the shirt on the floor, and cupping your cheek gently, “Well, I thought it was obvious, but if I need to give you the birds and the bees talk, I will do that for you love.” He chuckled lightly, thumb brushing your chin.

“I mean..” You grabbed his wrist and ran your hand down his fingers, his hand, his wrist, all the way down his arm then back up to his shoulder, you watched a shiver run through him at the contact. “What are we?” you asked almost shyly, hating that you chose this moment to ask. 

“What do you want to be?”

“What?”

“Tell me what you want us to be, and we will be that.” He smiled at you, bopping his finger to your nose.

“It's that easy?”

“You think this was easy? y/n, we've been doing this for months. Months and Months of being able to have you in every way possible, trying to get myself to believe that it's just sex, but thats not any more true for me that I bet it is for you.” Ben spoke softly, and you nodded your head quickly.

“I want you, Ben. Every way that I can have you.” You stepped forward, chest-to-chest and turned your chin up to him. “I want you body, heart and soul.”

“I want that too.” He let out a breath you didn't know he was holding and he leaned down, hands sliding down your body until his hands reached the back of your thighs. “Jump.” wrapping your arms around his neck, you jumped up and his calloused hands caught you effortlessly. He walked you both towards his bedroom, hot breath skimming your neck as he nipped at your ear lobe. Growling at the yelp you made, he squeezed his hands on your thighs pulling you ever closer.

By the time you reached his bedroom, the kisses more rough, teeth clashing and moans being swallowed by the other. When he released your thighs, you were dropped onto the bed, Ben crawling over top of you, the look of a hunter stalking his prey etched onto his face. “Let's start with the body, shall we?” He smiled wickedly as you let out a deep groan, winding your fingers through his hair and pulling him in for yet another bruising kiss as your hand wandered low on his torso. “Fuck, y/n” he panted, your hands putting just the right amount of pressure in just the right place. “You're going to be the death of me, aren't you?” his eyes closed tightly as you left light kisses along his throat, pulling away to look him in the eyes.

“Only one way to find out.” You purred and he cursed again, you giggled lightly as he rolled you over. 

For once, things were different, but no matter what, you always ended up here.

~x

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Summer Romance and Cinema Nights (Sriracha, Part 12.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Dating a local police Chief may be way trickier than it seems. But when he turns out to be a complete fool for you, you somehow know that you can work that.

A/N: FLUFFY JIM, YAY! Also, just btw, I would like to announce that the official two songs for this fic‘s couple are: Little Secrets by Passion Pit and 3 Nights by Dominic Fike. Two brilliant, catchy songs which excellently depict the mood!

Word count: 2.9 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​ @missdictatorme​ @creedslove​

Master list: H E R E ​

That other morning, somehow everything seemed to be just perfect - Hopper, for the first time in forever, woke up on time to shower and prepare on time. He had such a good mood that he opened up his windows in his car and basically yelled every lyric of You Don't Mess Around With Jim from the window. A bold move for riding though Hawkins at half-past seven in the morning. And even bolder when you acknowledged that Hopper couldn't sing for shit. He even bought a huge Puget of flowers to welcome Florence back in the office.

When he ran inside the office, the tune was still playing outside - the office was smelling like freshly brewed coffee and just baked donuts, that made Jim even swing his hips in the beat coming out of the car. He gently put the flowers in front of Florence, who just opened up her mouth, and he danced into the office while singing the chorus. She was looking at him and she was even more surprised when Hopper didn't even lit up a cigarette as he walked through the office. Was Jim actually put through lobotomy when she was gone?

Powell and Callahan just stood there, looking at the man any of them actually didn't know. Powell then poked Callahan's side - Chief must've gotten laid and it must've been extraordinary good because there wasn't any sane explanation for any of that.

"A good night with a lady in a warm bed, Chief?" - Powell teased Hopper with a knowing smile and both of the men almost choked when Hopper just hummed back.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you and your wife would be jealous if she knew." - Hopper patted his shoulder and with another of his terrifying signing, he turned around to go turn off the radio in his car. But just as his good mood came out of nowhere, just as quickly he was brought back to life when he patiently sat in his chair and waited for your promised call.

There was no other way to name the feeling inside of him - Hopper was just straightway nervous. There wasn't any other way to put that. He was his foot and when he wasn't tapping his foot, he was tapping his fingers into his desk. When he wasn't tapping his fingers into the desk, he was constantly fetching himself a cup of coffee - it was almost a miracle because Florence hasn't seen him coming out of the office as regularly as he did that day. A lot of coffee meant that he was peeing rather often - for the first time in a long time, he felt like a living, breathing person.

The call came - soon after one in the afternoon, his phone suddenly came to life. He almost jumped at the plastic box, letting the phone fall three times on his desk. And at that moment, his head told him to act cool. Like he didn't almost shit his pants when the phone rang.

"Um... Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, at the phone, Hawkins PD. What can I help you with?" - He asked and coughed a bit. If it wasn't you, he swore that he's going to kill someone. But then he heard a burst of your laughter and he almost hummed with pleasure. His mind told him that he's the cool guy now and there's no way he's going to laugh, smile, hum or grunt.

"You're funny. Really funny. Sorry, it took me so long, I was with my mom and brother... Long story short, boring noon at the household. What about the old mill near the town, half an hour from now? I'll give you five minutes in advance." - You spoke fast because you didn't have any idea of how much of time you've got remaining.

"Of course, Mr. Black. The old mill? You say that somethin' got lost? Yeah, I'll be there in thirty minutes." - Hopper answered loud enough for Florence to hear the response, hearing you losing your cool on the other end once again.

"In thirty-five minutes, not a minute late, okay? Don't forget I have my watch on." - You whispered in the end and ended up the call for good. Hopper immediately got on his feet and looked at himself in the window, slicking his hair back and readjusting the uniform, putting his sunglasses on to look even cooler. Then he stopped at Florence's dear, still seeing you there, drawing your small little pictures, eating a single donut all day long, with a bored face, waiting for a call.

"I need to go to the old mill...-" "Because old black lost something. Again. You yelled it loud enough." - Florence told him back, having a bored look on her face. The newest Harlequin added to the library was opened in her desk and she was almost halfway through it. Which was impressive.

"I'll most likely take my lunch break as well." - Hopper informed her briefly and feared her answer since the look she gave him was already furrowed enough. - "Since you once walked in exactly on time, why not?" - She mumbled in the end, ignoring Hopper from that moment on. He basically ran into his car, holding the hat on his head.

It was less than twenty minutes on a bike when you knew roads though the Hawkins woods, but it was almost thirty minutes by car, so he really had to try and drive like a madman. But it was worth it in the end - when he parked the car, you were already sitting in the car there, having only long basketball shorts and a tight black top on. You smiled and was on your legs in no time, running towards Hopper.

When you jumped at him, circling your hands around his neck, he was seriously trying his best to keep both of you standing on your feet. When you almost sucked the breath out of him, you stepped a bit away, watching your wristwatch.

"Two minutes earlier. I'm impressed." - You mumbled, pulling him for a kiss again, closing your eyes. Then, before he had the opportunity to answer something witty back, you caught his palm and lead him to the backseats.

The half an hour on the backseat was one of the most passionate he ever had. There wasn't much space, but you figured out how to pull his pants down to his ankles, how to pull down your shorts and you just pulled the top down so he could watch your boobs bounce as you leaned both your palms into the roof and cried out with pleasure. As always, Hopper was doing and saying things that made you more than a chuckle, having you laughing on his lap at one time.

Half an hour later, you were both laying on the back seat, breathing heavily. You never remembered sex being as good as it was with Hopper. But it was definitely mind-blowing. When he tried to put his pants at least partially up, you stopped his arm, grinning. Your leg was spread up to the air and it seemed like you're in pain.

"I have a spasm. Hold on a second." - You begged, still having the leg in the air. The least Hopper could do was to support your leg, so he caught it in the air. After a minute, you finally got dressed, still having that selfish grin.

"What's that about?" - Jim asked as he still tried to catch his breath. It was almost awfully hot in the car. And it definitely smelled like a damn good quickie.

"Every time you'll be driving Blazer, you'll see me riding you on the backseat." - You chuckled and climbed out to stretch your back. - "Seems to me like I'm already winning the little remember me game."

"You'll see about that. What about the movies, have you thought about that?" - Jim took out one of the cigarettes, closing the door behind you, leaning his ass into the car. He still had his shirt and t-shirt untugged, but he knew it can hold on a minute. He offered you from the pack as well, but you shook your head.

"How do you want to execute that crazy plan?" - You asked back, slowly smoothing his left arm before entwining your fingers with his. Jim took a second to think about that, lighting the cigarette up.

"Well, you'll go first and buy yourself a ticket. I'll go second so people would be less suspicious. I'll put on the grumpy asshole fave everyone knows and pretend to meet you in there. The rest is a mystery." - Jim answered thoughtfully and laughed, when you playfully punched his shoulder, laughing as well. He put his arm around your shoulder, bringing you even closer, kissing the top of your head.

"You really thought about that, huh?" - You mumbled, putting your arms around his waist, nudging your face into the shirt of his uniform. - "Nobody told me you're handsome, a good cook and clever. Almost too good to be true."

"Yeah, keep that talk to yourself, will you? We'll need some pretty good actin' if we're supposed to make people believe that." - Hopper answered back, puffing out a bit of smoke.

"Come on, no-one in the city actually believes that Jim Hopper, the asshole from downtown, would be able to pick up a college student." - You mumbled back, poking fun of him even further. - "I can do a survey to prove you, huh?"

"Oh, shut up, smarty." - Hopped answered back and this time, he was actually laughing. You laughed back, slowly letting go of him.

"So I'll see you at the cinema, then?" - You licked your lips with expectations, having the devil in your eyes. Hopper nodded. - "The last movie starts at 8:15. If you're not there, I'm going on my own, old man." - You laughed while you walked to your bike. Jim just looked at his boots, gulping down your sour comment. You meant it as a joke, but it was nothing but the truth. He was watching you riding down the hill before he finished the cigarette - after that, he finally tugged his shirt back and got into the car. 

You were right - how did it come that you were right so often? Just as he turned around to drive backward, he was seeing you riding him like crazy. And he smiled at that. 

Just as he told you, he meant to keep his word. Once 8:15 came, he was already turning the engine off. 

You, on the other hand, were in the line since 8:00. You put on your best denim jacket and a red t-shirt under it to bring out the colors even more. You were looking like a million bucks - and of course, none other than Steve and his asshole best friends noticed you. Steve was harmless and sweet when he was alone or around Aiden, but once he was hanging with Carol and Tommy, he was a disaster. 

“Look who we got here.” - Steve grinned from ear to ear when he saw you standing in the line, coming to you like a cocky son of a bitch he was pretending to be. You smiled back, straightening a bit. 

“Hey there, Steve. Carol. Tommy.” - You nodded to each one of them with a stiffened smile. These two were total assholes and jerks - Carol was the typical jealous bitch from your neighborhood who surely won't make it far in her life just because she always stuck her disgusting nose into the lives of other people and Tommy... Well, he hadn't got a brain, so his life must've kind of suck. 

“What are you doing here? Alone? On your own?” - Carol asked, nuzzling into her boyfriends' armpit. The rumors had it that she's fucking him since the seven grade, but you didn't care for your own good.

“I'm just going to see a movie on my own. You know, adults are fond of spending time on their own.” - You snorted back at her, seeing that bitch rolling her eyes while she chewed on the bubblegum. Soon, you were standing there with Steve only, because Carol hated you for some reason and Tommy H always followed her around like a tail.

“If you're alone, do you want me to... Uh... Join you?” - Steve asked silently, watching your face. You giggled a bit and smiled at him. Every time he was all alone and not under the influence of that bitter bitch and dumb jock, he was a sweetheart. You knew that since you knew Steve from the time he was six. - “They won't be mad. I don't feel like going out with them either.” - He swore and felt his breath smelling like beer and cigarettes. Which immediately brought back Hopper on your mind. 8:08. He still had seven minutes. 

“I was serious. I don't mind being on my own, Steve. It helps me with cleaning my head. You should go and enjoy... The New Star Wars.” - You looked at his ticket and smiled. You bought a ticked on the other movie and hoped that Hopper won't buy the wrong one. 

In the end, Steve nodded. You watched as his eyes controlled the situation around and after he was sure that Tommy or Carol can't see him, he offered you a hug. This one was a friendly one - you could tell from the smile he had on. It was the honest Steve Harrington smile. That was why you accepted. 

“Enjoy the movie... No matter what you'll be watching.” - He said before he ran off to the line for popcorn and some soda, finding Tommy and Carol still hugging. Oh, that bitch was definitely talking trash, again, but you didn't care. You took your place in the line as well, planning to buy yourself at least some soda. 

Hopper entered the cinema like a hurricane - he had a beige blazer you couldn't recognize, definitely some new jeans and a shirt you would've sworn that you haven't seen in the cabin yet. He was looking bald, the colors were bringing more life into his looks and you needed to say... That Hopper was looking fucking great. His blue eyes found you in a second, being almost the one to order, but he pretended that he didn't see you. 

Acting, you reminded yourself, you needed some good acting. You patiently waited for your Pepsi can and paid with a small smile, leaving to go through the corridor leading into the cinema, where you waited for Hopper. He almost freaked out when you suddenly came from behind the corner and let his popcorn go. 

“Hey there, Chief.” - You said almost unbelievably, letting a couple walk around you. - “I think I haven't even seen you outside the PD. How you're doing?” - You smiled and walked there by his side. Jim really knew how to act - he looked so bugged that you thought about doing something wrong. 

“I was good until now.” - He muttered out, bringing the popcorn closer to his body, nervously looking throughout the hall. You walked straight to the most distanced seats, looking at Hopper. 

“Jesus, come and sit next, everyone knows you're all alone here.” - You rolled your eyes and Hopper slowly followed you. You were a good actress when you needed to be one. You could act like a serious brat. Good acting from the both of you, indeed. 

“Move.” - Hopper grunted out angrily, acting like his night was just ruined. You sat next to each other in the back row, away from all the people that were for the movie actually. You both sat there without emotions in your faces, Hopper was chewing on his popcorn. He was waiting for the moment when all the people finally concentrate on the movie - and he also jealously watched a couple of teenagers at the other end of the row. He sighed. 

When the right moment finally came, it almost halfway through the movie and even you seemed to enjoy it since you laughed here and there. You jumped a bit when you felt a palm caressing your knee. In one moment, your face froze and your expression changed. You looked at the making out couple, the only other people sitting in one row with you, then you looked down on his palm before catching it into yours. From that moment, you had a contained smile on your lips as you moved your shoulder to Hopper‘s to lean into him.

At the end of the movie, you both let go, both your palms suddenly feeling fucking cold. And no-one noticed a thing. It might seem to be utter nonsense, but in reality, it was a bold and almost stupid move. If anyone saw that you're holding hands, you were dead. But no-one did. 

That night, you walked home - promising Hopper that you'll call him again tomorrow.