#anyways to anyone reading and will be jamming along tonight have all the fun and do update :D!!

[kindred-spirit-93]

my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined

tis 11:30 ish in the morning where i am rn and according to the internet the listening party will be around 4am my time :')

inspired by this gem in my drafts i forgor to post lol

[alienheartattack]

Sweet Revenge (Inexorable AU)

Word Count: 2260 words

Rating: E. They fuck. It’s dope. Don’t read if you’re underage or have objections to explicit adult content.

Summary: Levi and Mikasa have a feud at the school bake sale and decide to get revenge on their PTA nemesis.

Notes: For non-US readers, PTA stands for parent-teacher association, where parents volunteer at their children’s schools to get involved in the school’s activities and influence the quality of their child’s education, usually through fundraisers and other events.

This story takes place 8-9 years after the events of Inexorable and about 2 years after the events of the other Inexorable AU fics, A Scream in the Night and A Minor Dispute About Rain. The only thing you really need to know if you haven’t read those is that Levi and Mikasa have a daughter named Anya, who is basically a grumpy mini Levi, in addition to Hana.

The only thing keeping Levi from running after the PTA president and giving her a hefty piece of his mind is Mikasa’s grip, firm and insistent, on the hem of his sweater.

“You’re going to stretch it out,” Levi snaps at his wife, redirecting his ire at the closest target. Mikasa idly caresses the swell of her belly with one hand and looks at him with one eyebrow raised, silently asking if he wants to argue with his pregnant wife in public.

“I’ll let you go when I’m confident you’re not going to track Joanne down and scream in her face,” she says calmly. “As much as I’d like to see that.”

“She fucking begged us to help out at this bake sale and now she’s just gonna call our lemon bars basic?! We’re not goddamn pastry chefs!”

“Levi, listen to yourself. You sound legitimately insane.”

He sighs, letting his shoulders drop as the tension and rage starts to leave his body. Mikasa releases his sweater and he collapses into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. She joins him, gingerly lowering herself onto the uncomfortable metal folding chair provided by the school.

“I hate this so much. I hate Joanne, I hate being on the PTA, and I absolutely fucking hate bake sales,” he huffs.

"Well, we’re stuck here for the evening. I don’t want to be here either but I’m trying to make the most of it. Mikasa picks up a lemon bar and takes a huge bite. "Besides, fuck Joanne. These are good.”

Levi motions for Mikasa to give him a bite. “Fuck Joanne,” he agrees through a mouthful of pastry and curd.

Thankfully business picks up after that, and Levi and Mikasa spend the next half hour handing out lemon bars to parents and kids, ignoring Joanne hovering around them and observing their dealings with a disdainful eye. When the rush clears, she slowly approaches their table, pretending to be browsing. They both clock her gaze drifting over their mostly empty dish of lemon bars and the small twitch at the corner of her mouth that telegraphs her dissatisfaction with the Ackermans’ success. Triumphant, they share a brief glance, another silent Fuck Joanne.

To their dismay, she approaches Mikasa, staring at her oversized t-shirt dress. “Bun in the oven,” Joanne reads, her cold eyes sweeping over the looped script printed across Mikasa’s abdomen, decorated with a drawing of a smiling roll baking away. “Oh, you’re pregnant, sweetie! Congratulations!” There’s sweetness in her voice, but it’s tinged with venom. Mikasa knows it all too well.

“Thanks,” she mutters, bracing herself for the backhanded part of Joanne’s compliment.

“I thought you’d just let yourself go, but it’s a blessing instead! What a relief!” She laughs uproariously at her own joke. Levi jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans, balling them into tight fists so Joanne can’t see how enraged he is. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Mikasa does not answer, instead focusing her energy on keeping a straight face while she contemplates murder. Levi can sense her tensing up, her shoulders stiffening, fury radiating from her body in waves.

“It’s a boy,” he cuts in curtly. “We’ve already got our two girls.”

“Your oldest isn’t—” Joanne’s voice drops to a near-whisper— “yours, though, is she?”

Levi narrows his eyes, no longer interested in hiding his annoyance. “She’s mine. I’ve helped raise her since she was a baby.”

“Oh, how sweet. What a modern family,” she gushes, cooing with an edge of condescension in her voice. “Well, congratulations.” She then turns and walks off, conveniently waving to someone across the room.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks Mikasa in a low voice once Joanne is out of earshot. Mikasa stares after her, eyes black with rage, her breath hissing through clenched teeth. She doesn’t need to say anything; he already knows the answer is no.

He places a reassuring hand on the back of her neck, massaging her nape the way she does to him when he’s stressed and ranting. “Tell you what, I’ll go out to the car and grab something sharp, we slice Joanne’s Achilles tendons and then get the hell out of here.”

“What? No!” She looks over at him, her expression disgusted and exasperated. “You have to stop watching gore movies with Hana. She’s barely ten.”

“She loves them! We were watching some zombie bullshit the other day and that little monster laughed while watching a guy get his guts ripped out and eaten. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna grow up to be a serial killer.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “Well, if she is, she gets it from Eren’s side of the family.” Even though he’s still angry on his wife’s behalf, Levi can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Fucking Joanne,” he grumbles. “If zombies ate her guts they’d spit them back out. Her kid’s an asshole, too.” Mikasa is well aware of that fact: Joanne’s son tried bullying Anya at the beginning of the school year, calling her a midget and pulling her hair until she had enough and whacked him in the face with her math textbook. That was Levi and Mikasa’s first run-in with Joanne before they joined the PTA, and things have only gone downhill since.

A few more kids approach the table, hesitant due to Levi’s scowl; Mikasa shutters her anger behind a calm facade and handles the sales, though she doesn’t say much.

When the latest wave of customers leaves, she turns to her husband. “I think I have an idea to make both of us feel better.”

A look of skepticism crosses his face. “Really? I was kinda hoping for that severed Achilles tendon.”

Mikasa facepalms; she’s had years to grow accustomed to her husband’s awkwardness and his awful jokes, but sometimes he still manages to surprise her. Ironically it only makes her love him more, this odd, cranky man who might literally kill for her.

“Joanne parked next to us, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, remember? I said her car looks like the physical embodiment of vaginal dryness and you laughed so hard you peed a little.”

“You really didn’t have to mention that last part.”

“I dunno, it gives the story flavor. Pee flavor.”

“Look, I have an idea. Get someone to take the rest of the lemon bars, then meet me in the parking lot. If anyone asks, I’m not feeling well and you need to take me home.”

Levi sighs. “What are you planning?”

Mikasa leans in close to him, her lips millimeters from his ear. “Meet me outside and you’ll see,” she purrs.

Five minutes later he bursts through the metal doors at the back of the school to see her sitting on the hood of Joanne’s car, an aggressively beige sedan.

“Come here,” she beckons him. He approaches her and, when he is within reach, she grabs his shirt and pulls him to her. Their lips collide awkwardly before settling into the familiar rhythm of their kissing, slow and deep.

After a few moments, he pulls away. “What is going on here?”

“Revenge,” she says. “I want you to fuck me on the hood of Joanne’s car.”

He ponders the suggestion for a moment, then smiles — and then a giggle escapes his mouth, a sound somewhere between bewilderment and glee, then another, then another.

“Aw, come on, don’t laugh. I thought it’d be fun.” She frowns, embarrassment heating and coloring her cheeks.

“No, no,” he says once he’s able to control his laughter. “I fucking love it.” He kisses her fiercely, growling deep in his throat. “I fucking love you.” Mikasa smiles, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. There’s some maneuvering involved in getting her underwear off, her round belly making the whole process somewhat unwieldy; Levi stuffs them in his pocket then gets down on the concrete, kneeling before her.

“Are you serious?” she squeals, trying to look at him over the curve of her stomach.

“If anyone asks, tell them you went into labor and I’m checking how far along you are.” With a low laugh he gets to work, nuzzling her pussy before licking a firm stroke along her seam. Mikasa bites her lip and lets out a shaky anticipatory breath in the brief moment before Levi lavishes attention on her clit, massaging it with his lips and tongue. She gasps when he pulls away from her a few minutes later, halfway to orgasm and disappointed not to get there.

“We need to be fast,” he says in lieu of an apology, undoing his pants and pulling out his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times in his fist. “I’ll finish you off at home.”

“You’d better,” she replies, a playful threat.

Levi settles himself between her legs then enters her with no warning or fanfare save the soft moan they both make, a low noise of contentment, of wholeness. They have always been a fearsome team, first as colleagues, then lovers, now spouses and parents, and their lovemaking is no different, each of them able to discern angles and positions from sighs, from grunts, from the furrow of a brow or the touch of a hand. Tonight Mikasa slides her hands down Levi’s back, skating over the soft brushed cashmere of his sweater, telling him that she wants him to be gentle with her — for now, anyway. Joanne’s comment must have stung, he thinks, and he resolves to show her exactly how beautiful he thinks she is, pregnant or not. There’s a certain earthy, ephemeral beauty in her pregnant body, something attractive and incredibly arousing about the thought of her creating and building life even as she sits next to him selling lemon bars at a school bake sale. He loves the way her hard edges have softened, the pleasing new fullness in her cheeks, the luminous glow that seems to emanate from within her.

(He has learned since her last pregnancy not to mention that he also loves the growing size of her breasts, and in return Mikasa only rebukes him for staring when he’s open-mouthed and practically drooling.)

Mikasa’s eyes flutter closed as Levi rocks against her, a gentle motion that makes the car bounce in time with his thrusts. A bubble of laughter escapes her lips.

“What’s that for?” he asks with a smile, then kisses her before she can answer.

“I love you so much,” she says against his mouth. “And fuck Joanne.”

Levi stops moving; Mikasa cocks her head, silently asking him what’s wrong. “Don’t say that bitch’s name when I’m inside you.”

“Look, do you want to revenge-fuck me or not?” She isn’t sure if that’s a word, but during sex, when they’re heated and frantic for each other, even Levi’s crude come-ons sound like poetry, so maybe this will work.

It does. “You want me to revenge-fuck you?” he growls, slapping his hips against hers with a rough thrust. She whimpers at the impact, a wave of pleasure rippling through her body.

“Yeah,” she pants. “Show me how angry you are.”

He makes a low hum of approval; though he’s become more proficient at sweet talk and romance in the years he’s been with Mikasa, he tends to favor sex as intense as his personality, grasping hands and heavy eye contact. Mikasa has never seemed to mind though sometimes, like tonight, she needs him to make love to her first.

Levi fucks her hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the cool night, her cunt making obscene liquid noises around his cock. Even through the delicious haze of their passion they’re listening out for footsteps, for cars, for the creak of doors opening.

“We should finish soon,” Mikasa pants.

“I’m close.” He slows his pace, grinding against her, sinking into her as deep as he can go, before pulling back and scything into her slick heat again and again, harder and harder, muttering curses and endearments and wordless sounds of effort and desire.

And then he thrusts into Mikasa so roughly that her ass hits the hood of Joanne’s car hard, triggering the car alarm, horn blaring and lights flashing.

“Shit!” Levi yelps, startled by the sudden noise. He jumps back from her, stuffing his stiff, aching cock back in his pants and undoing the fly with adrenaline-shaky fingers.

“We gotta go!” She hops down from the car, landing unsteadily on her feet, pulling her dress down over her nudity. “Do you have the keys?” She scrambles over to their car, pulling at the handle of the locked passenger door. “Come on!”

Levi reaches in his pocket for the key fob, mashing the buttons so the doors unlock and the ignition turns on. Mikasa clambers into the car as fast as she can, slamming the door behind her, and Levi follows soon after. Through the windshield she can see someone coming to locate the source of the commotion and chants, “Drive! Drive!” at Levi while he clicks his seatbelt into place.

“Seatbelt!” he barks at her and she complies, fear and arousal and adrenaline making her feel jittery and giggly and wonderfully alive. Levi remains stoic, but there’s a devilish glee playing at the corners of his lips: he’s enjoying himself just as much as she is. He backs their car out of the parking spot with the precision of a stunt driver and peels off, speeding off into the night seconds before Joanne comes outside to investigate the shrieking car alarm and the strange ass-shaped dent on her hood.

[mentally-in-northern-italy]

Raising the Stakes — Oliver Wood x reader

***not my GIF***

Summary: you are the newly appointed Slytherin captain, ambitious to win at least one match after your two previous losses. But when the stakes are raised, you seem to be playing for more than just to clear your name as a “failed” captain.

Word Count: ~3.4K

A/N: OH MY GOSH! I’m so sorry, I know I “announced” that I would be writing my first fic a while ago, but to be honest, I was so overwhelmed with everything else that I had to keep putting it off. Anyway, this fic is super duper long, because I totally got carried away while writing, I’m so sorry! It’s a lengthy one, but if you give this a read, I’d be so grateful! Feedback is more than welcome, as I’ve never really done this before. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!! :)

____________________________________________________________________

The day before a Quidditch game was always tough for you. And, rightfully so, seeing as the pressure that was put on you every single time was incredibly overwhelming. See, this year was not a good year for Slytherins when it came to Quidditch. When Marcus Flint was temporarily suspended from his position as Quidditch Captain due to very distasteful, (what many would refer to as... foul) play, they needed someone who could fill his shoes, and fast. 

You just had to be the one who got the short end of the stick. 

Being Quidditch Captain came with many benefits, of course -- anyone could see that. You were able to order around everyone on the team, especially the people who you didn’t get along with too well, decide the times for practices to fit your schedule best and if the match resulted in a victory, get all the credit for the marvellous match. 

Except every seemingly perfect thing has its flaws, after all. Flint’s shoes as Captain were hard to fill. Many people at Hogwarts may tell you that he is the most disgusting, obnoxious, and arrogant person around… and they wouldn’t be wrong. But what many people cleverly omit is that he is a brilliant Quidditch player -- when he doesn’t resort to cheating. The Slytherin Quidditch team, under his strong guidance, was practically unbeatable. They were doing better than they’ve done in years. Needless to say, when they won match after match, the team’s thrilling victories were all attributed to the fact that they had someone as masterful and godly as Flint as their Captain. 

You, however, had a different approach as Captain. While you weren’t an angel, you certainly weren’t Flint. Your approach to leadership may be considered too laid-back for some, but you never wanted to be as overbearing as Flint. 

Unfortunately, this approach wasn’t exactly successful. The Slytherin team had now broken their winning streak, and lost two games ever since you were appointed Captain. Naturally, they blamed these losses on your failed leadership. 

The first game that was played with you appointed as the new Slytherin Captain was against Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff had a strong team, their plays were tactful and their brilliant seeker, Cedric, almost always managed to pull through and catch the snitch. However, and one can blame it on the fact that this was because you were simply a Slytherin, you and the rest of your team had severely underestimated the sunshine-coloured team. Call it overconfidence or just sheer misfortune, you and your team had not trained nearly hard enough and the match was over extremely quickly, and all the plays that you had devised, hunched over in the common room, all went to waste. 

This was a devastating loss for Slytherin, as it had broken their streak. People whispered about you whenever you walked by them in the halls, spreading gossip and judgement because of your failed leadership. 

But true to the verdant-coloured house’s core values, they stayed loyal to you. Many excused your failure by simply taking into account the fact that it was your first match as Captain, after all. The second one will be better… right?

Wrong.

For your second match, you took the opposite approach. You trained hard, and made sure that everyone else trained hard as well. 

Oliver, the Gryffindor team’s beloved Captain, took notice of how often the Quidditch team was booked under your name. And he would never give up on an opportunity to tease you.

Oliver and yourself, had a complicated relationship. You were never exactly friends… no, that was definitely not the right word. You two had a few classes together, but barely ever talked off the Quidditch pitch. You thought he was incredibly infuriating with his smug smile plastered on his face 24/7 and his thick Scottish accent. But even you, couldn’t deny that he was attractive. He thought you were… well, this bit was a bit more complicated. 

He didn’t like you, but he couldn’t possibly hate you. He had always thought you were incredibly pretty and the way you always raised your hand in class was adorable. He loved how out-spoken you were… that is, until you picked up a Quidditch broom. 

You could still remember your first match like it was yesterday. You had done a spectacular job as a chaser, scoring not five but six goals against Oliver. And when the Slytherin seeker finally caught the snitch, your team had consequently won that match. You were ecstatic, meanwhile Oliver had decided that it was his new-found goal to beat you. After the match, he had come up to you and told you that you had played horribly. Taken aback a bit, you gave him no response, but only smiled at him coolly. Your smile perfectly disguised your new-found resentment of the Gryffindor, who instead of congratulating you, had just insulted you. 

“Training hard, I see,” he said as he jogged over now, to you one evening after a particularly lengthy training session. You were bent over, trying to properly place all the balls in their rightful places in the box. 

You looked up to glance at him before turning your head back downwards, paying no attention to him. 

“You know, Ravenclaws aren’t particularly skilled when it comes to Quidditch,” he said casually as he took in how attractive you still looked, even when you were drenched in sweat.

“Thank you for your input, Wood,” you said sarcastically, not even bothering to look up.

“No problem,” he smiled at you smugly as you began to stand up, “I think you can beat them. Good luck.” 

“Why would you want me to win?” You questioned with narrowed eyes. This was not like Oliver.

“Because no matter what happens in the match tomorrow,” he drawled as he leaned in slightly, “Gryffindor will still beat you.” 

There it was.

You groaned and shoved him lightly and started to walk off. You could hear him chuckling under his breath as he watched your receding figure. 

But when it came down to it, in the middle of the match, most of your team had begun to realize that there was no way they were going to come out of this victorious if they followed your plays. Malfoy, ever so resourceful, pulled the rest of the team aside and advised them to completely abandon the plays that you once again had worked hard for and try offensive.

This lack of unity within your team inevitably led to another loss.

And your house was not happy. 

___________________

So, here you were, eating your breakfast in the Great Hall with extremely shaky hands. You could not afford to lose the match tomorrow. There was no way you could let that happen. That would surely end your Quidditch career before it even started, and the whispering in the halls would not come to a stop. You tried to run through the Quidditch plays once again in your head, to ensure you had them down for the practice tonight when Malfoy swaggered in and took a seat beside you.

“We better not lose again, [Y/L/N],” he grunted as he reached over to grab the jam, “you’ve failed us enough.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” you snapped at him after rolling your eyes so far back into your head that it hurt a little, “maybe if you played well and followed my plays that I spend HOURS creating, we would do better.” 

“Whatever,” he muttered under his breath as he took a bite, “Flint was better.”

With a groan you decided that you had had enough food to eat. You felt as though if you ate anymore, you would surely have to rush to the girls’ lavatory and throw up. You stood up and started to head towards the exit of the Great Hall, not having any particular idea what exactly it was that you were heading towards. 

All you knew is that you had to win. 

____________________

“[Y/L/N],” called two familiar voices from somewhere behind you. 

You had been walking, on your way to the common room, to try to have a final look at the Quidditch plays when you heard the seemingly identical voices.

You turned around to see the Weasley twins, with Oliver, standing in the hallway, discussing something hurriedly. Oliver’s back had been turned to you, but it wasn’t hard to recognize his very distinct broad shoulders that Quidditch had blessed him with.

Oliver turned around and met your gaze, before looking back at the twins confusedly. 

“Um, yes?” you said, reluctantly as you walked closer to them. 

The twins had a toothy grin stuck on their face which, you decided, was not a good sign. This meant that they were up to something. Oliver continued to look between the two twins and, occasionally you, with a dumb-founded look.

“Ready for the match tomorrow?” one of the red-headed twins asked in a teasing matter.

“Yes, actually, I am,” you said rather defensively. You crossed your arms to try to look more intimidating but this clearly failed as the other twin started to snicker.

“You know, Oli here thinks so too,” the other one started to say as he clapped Oliver’s shoulder, “he’s a little scared about tomorrow. Doesn’t think we can beat you.”

You raised your eyebrows at this. Well, this was a new development. You looked at Oliver for confirmation.

“What? N--” he exclaimed at the twins before the twin to his right shushed him and cut him off.

“Georgie and I think it would be rather fun to raise the stakes, don’t you think?” Fred said quickly before Oliver could interrupt him again, “Motivate him a little, perhaps?”

Oliver had gone back to looking lost.

You didn’t say anything to this but George must have picked up some sort interest in your gaze.

“Tell you what, [Y/N], you win tomorrow and Oli boy here,” he says as he claps Oliver’s shoulders again, making him slightly wince in pain, “owes you a favour.”

Oliver opens his mouth to say something but is once again, cut off.

“Anything you want.” Fred said.

“Whenever you want.” George finished.

You opened your mouth to reply but you were unable to find the right words. Of course, you wanted this. You could make Oliver give over all his booked quidditch pitch hours, you could make him carry your books, do your homework---

“Hello?” George said as he jokingly waved a hand in front of your face. 

“Uh, yes! I mean, yes. Yes, that sounds good, I guess.” You said as you tuned back into the conversation.

“I--” Oliver started.

“But what if you win?” you ask suddenly as the realization dawns on you. You were not about to add onto your humiliation of losing three consecutive Quidditch matches by becoming Oliver’s personal servant as well.

“Glad you asked, dearest [Y/N],” Fred smirked as if this is exactly what he was waiting for.

“If we win, you and Wood go on a date,” George said with a big smile, “that’s it.”

“A pretty great deal if you ask me,” Fred added in quickly.

Oliver’s expression contorted into absolute shock as his cheeks started to redden the faintest shade of pink. He opened his mouth to yell at the twins but was unable to. Something compelled him to shut up and turn to you, desperate to see what you thought of this. A small part of him hoped that you would agree.

This clever plea presented by the twins had taken you back by surprise, to say the least. On a date? With Oliver? Didn’t he hate you, and you him? You almost wanted to laugh at what a ridiculous idea this was, and you almost did, before you saw that Oliver was watching you with his eyebrows furrowed. Did he want this? Did he not? It seemed pretty harmless, right? Plus, if you declined, wouldn’t that show that you were nervous and unsure about the match? 

“Fine. You have a deal.” you said assertively and reached out your hand to shake Oliver’s. 

Now, Oliver wasn’t a bright student, but he wasn’t dull either. But at this moment, his brain had completely stopped working as he stared at you, taking in your eyes that twinkled and your perfect lips that looked so soft---

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by Fred’s aggressive approach to bringing his attention back to this conversation; he shoved Oliver, almost causing him to fall over.

“Wha--? Oh, yes. Yes. Date,” he stammered, trying to find the right words, “I mean--, no, not a date. Dea--Deal. Yes.” 

He extended out his incredibly sweaty hand to take your noticeably smaller hand in his and gave a firm shake. He smiled at you and you returned it hesitantly before you turned back around to walk away.

What a weird night this has been. 

______________________

The match had started nearly ten minutes ago and Oliver had not taken his eyes off you once. It did work in his favour a bit, as you were a chaser, so it didn’t look out of the ordinary at all. But Fred and George caught on quickly and exchanged knowing looks, smirking slightly.

The match, dare you say it, was going extremely well. The other chasers had already scored multiple goals and this offensive-style play was proving to be very effective. 

But your head was not in the game. Not at all. 

The way that Oliver was flying on his broom, strategically blocking goals and giving a victorious smile each time to the crowd was proving to be particularly distracting. And it may just be your brain playing tricks, but you could’ve sworn you saw him watching you a few times, too.

It was somewhat of a revelation last night. This morning, you saw Oliver in a completely different light. Your mind even tried to convince you that maybe it wouldn’t be that bad if your team lost again. You quickly mentally slapped yourself to get rid of this thought. You had to win.

______________

The match went on for a while after, and it came incredibly close to being a victory for Gryffindor.

But it wasn’t. 

Many people blamed it on Oliver’s lazy and distracted gameplay, and many on your brilliant one.

You exclaimed loudly and smiled broadly as Malfoy caught the snitch, and the stands erupted into applause and cheer.

You hopped off your broom and went to congratulate Malfoy and your other teammates, all the while the stands clapped and screamed. It sounded like music to your ears. You were so incredibly happy that your hard work had paid off and you had broken the losing streak. 

Your smile faltered, however, as you saw how defeated Oliver looked. This was a major bruise to his ego. He was not used to losing. But you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he looked that disappointed because he would be unable to go on that date. If you were being honest, part of you was also disappointed for the same reason. 

_________________

You were sat in the library, trying to focus on your Charms homework but that was proving to be quite… impossible.

Oliver was sat two tables ahead of you, and while his back was turned, you still felt yourself feeling a little flustered. 

You had been gazing shyly at the back of Oliver’s head when a sudden tap to your shoulder scared you half to death.

“Hellooo [Y/L/N],” said the slightly taller twin, which you now were able to tell was Fred.

“For Merlin’s sake,” you exclaimed with hand to your chest, “you can’t scare me like that, Fred!” You whirled around to see Fred standing behind you with his infectious smile on his face and George, standing beside him in an identical manner.

“Sorry.”

“What do you want?” You questioned dryly, picking your quill back up again, pretending to get invested in work.

“Congratulations on your win, [Y/L/N],” George said pleasantly as he patted your shoulder, “you played well. It's a shame though, isn’t it, Freddie?” 

“Yes, it really is, Georgie.” Fred said, crossing his arms, faking sadness.

You turned around to face them, your eyebrows furrowed, “What? What is?” 

“Oh, just Oliver,” George sighed.

“What about him?” 

“You know, after the match…” Fred added. 

“What?” you said again, curiously. You desperately wanted to know. What were they talking about? Was Oliver alright? Was he mad at you?

“Oh, you know…” George sighed, again, faking disappointment.

“Fred, George, will you please just get on with it?”

“Well, y’know,” Fred said but stopped again. 

“Merlin’s beard, you two are infuriating!” you whisper-shouted, “what is it?!”

“Hmm, you seem to care about Oli boy a lot,” George said thoughtfully, with a hand to his chin, “I wonder why that is, eh?”

“Please just get to the point,” you huffed, annoyed at yourself for feeling butterflies at the mention of this ridiculous idea. You were glad your hair was covering your cheeks or else they would surely be able to see you blushing.

“He’s quite disappointed he wasn’t able to go on that date with you,” Fred said smugly, “He was crying about it.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you said, turning back to your work. They were only pulling your leg, you could tell. 

“Ok, ok, maybe he wasn’t crying,” Fred rushed to tell you, “but he might as well have been.”

“Yeah, right,” you rolled your eyes.

“We aren’t lying, you know,” George rushed to Fred’s aid, “why would we ever do that?” 

You snorted quietly under your breath. 

“Alright, alright, all jokes aside, we saw you staring at him,” Fred told you, as he sat down beside you, “it’s obvious you like him.”

“And, it must be your lucky day, because he likes you too,” George added, taking a seat on your other side.

“So just ask him out.” 

“It’s as simple as that.” 

“We’re bloody geniuses, Georgie.”

“We bloody are, aren’t we?” 

You were watching this scene unfold in absolute horror. Your cheeks were as red as a tomato and your stomach had dropped. People knew? They knew you liked him? Did you even like him? Did he even like you?

“I don’t know what you two are talking about,” you started, trying to compose the storm raging within you, “I don’t like him, you two are mad.” 

“You have a favour, lying around in case you forgot,” George said, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “use it.”

The truth was, you had forgotten. You did have a favour overdue. The excitement of the win had made you forget that you could make Oliver do whatever you wanted. 

“I will not do that! Are you two insane?” you exclaimed again. This idea was mad. 

“Come on,” Fred whined, “it’s not like he can reject you. Which, if you ask me, he wouldn’t do anyway because he’s so bloody in love with you.”

“No! Absolutely not. There is a reason I’m not a Gryffindor, you know.” you protested.

“Hey! Oliver! Wood!” George shouted, much to Madame Pince’s dismay. She gave him a mean look and carried on reading. You looked at him in shock and harshly whacked him in the shoulder, to which he responded by snickering. What was he doing? 

Oliver turned around and looked at you three before furrowing his eyebrows again. He got up from his spot and walked over to your table, while you gave George a murderous look.

“Hi.” he said, quietly, looking only at you. 

“Hi,” you muttered back, a little breathless. Merlin, why were you behaving like this? You hated it. 

“[Y/N] here, has something to say,” Fred said suggestively, as he stood up from his seat.

“Have fun, you two,” George said as he, too, stood up and walked away with Fred, leaving you and Oliver feeling incredibly awkward.

“So…” he tried to say casually but he was much too nervous to be in your presence.

“Uhh, I--, I wanted to call in that favour you owe me,” you said, thinking quickly before this becomes even more weird.

“Right,” he said gloomily, once again reminded of his loss.

“I…” unable to think of anything, you uttered the first things that came into your head as you glanced down at your incomplete homework, “I need you to tutor me.”

“Tutor you?” 

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“At the Three Broomsticks.” you added, not really sure why. 

“Oh?” 

“Yes.”

“Alright.” he nodded, looking a little surprised at your odd request.

Before you knew it, you were uttering the three words of confirmation that made both of your hearts leap simultaneously, “It’s a date.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows, unsure of what to say. A date? You cringed at yourself for even thinking of saying that.

“A date?” he asked, still surprised, but his tone suggested it was pleasant surprise more than anything.

“Uh, yes.” 

“Alright.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll pick you up at 11? Next Saturday?” his heart was beating a hundred times per second but it was evident that the Gryffindor courage had kicked in. 

“Yes. I’d like that,” you managed to get out.

“Alright, it’s a date.”

[pervysagewisdom]

The Idol

BTS Fanfic

18+ Explicit

3 Chapters, Complete

Minjoon, Vmin, RM/Jimin/V AU

Summary: While at a club one night, struggling rapper Namjoon is chosen by the biggest pop star in the world for a night of pleasure that turns out to be more than he bargained for.

Or: Jimin is a polyamorous pop star who likes kinky sex. Ends with a threesome between Jimin, Namjoon, and Vante.

Excerpt:

“Hey Namjoon. You want to get out of here?” Suddenly he had butterflies in his stomach, which he would never tell Yoongi about when he recounted these events later.

“Where?”

“I have a room. Not far.” He couldn’t say no. That wasn’t an option.

“Sure. But tell me your name first.” The man’s lovely lips quirked.

“Jimin,” he said. Namjoon has to have him repeat it, so he does. Namjoon chuckled. That was funny.

“Like the singer,” he said. Jimin smiled a smile that just floored him, and something started to click in his mind.

“Yeah, like the singer.” Namjoon turned his head and looked back towards the booth with the bodyguards, confused. Jimin turned his head back to him with a finger on his chin. “Decoy,” Jimin told him. “This isn’t my first time.” He gave him a knowing look. Namjoon thought his legs might give out on him. His throat was suddenly dry.

“Me?” he asked stupidly. The Jimin, the famous pop star, the Idol, wanted a night with him?

“Mm, yes, you.” He seemed amused. Namjoon was lost. This was unbelievable.

“So do we just...leave?” Jimin shook his head. His hand ran up under Namjoon’s mesh shirt over his sweat covered muscles. It was distracting as fuck.

Chapter 1: The Club

He never did this. Namjoon preferred the dirty little clubs and bars where everyone knew you. He hated places like this, huge multi-room dance clubs that smelled like sweat and sex, where no one could really see anyone. It was just anonymous bodies grinding together to sounds that were more beat than music, under lights that were both blinding and too dark to let you see anything. And he certainly never dressed like this, in skin-tight back pants and a black fishnet shirt. He had insisted on putting a jacket over it. Yoongi had insisted that was lame. When you sat with the DJ, you had to look the part, he said. Yoongi certainly did. He was a natural behind the turntables, controlling the heart of the place, the conductor of debauchery. As a rapper, Namjoon preferred an audience--You know, one that was actually listening to you. Pay him enough, and Yoongi didn’t care. He produced his art with the cash from the DJ gigs, and business was good. Namjoon was certain any day now Yoongi would skyrocket past him into the fame stratosphere, but he wasn’t so certain about his own future. He worked, he hustled, but things just didn’t seem to go his way. The issue, according to Yoongi, was that he thought too much. He needed to get out of his head and fucking relax. Looking at the sea of people below them, he didn’t feel relaxed, though Yoongi looked like he was having the time of his life.

“Drink the soju,” Yoongi insisted, pushing an expensive bottle towards him. “It’s free.”

“I don’t want to drink alone,” Namjoon told him. Yoongi didn’t drink much when working. He was more of a fine wine type.

“You’re not alone.” Yoongi motioned to the crowd. “They’re all fucked out of their minds. Why shouldn’t you be?” Namjoon looked around. It just did not appeal to him. Still, a drink might be good. He had a shot. It was surprisingly smooth. He was used to the cheaper drinks he got free at bars during his set. “Nice, right? Now have twenty more and go dance.”

“I don’t know about that.” Still, he did have a few more while Yoongi worked the club with his beats. The reserved area caught his eye. It seemed to be catching everyone’s eyes. The crowd was denser near one roped off area in particular. There were a couple of large bodyguards making certain they didn’t get any closer. Namjoon nudged Yoongi. “What’s that about?” Yoongi glanced over.

“Oh. Pop star. That one who sang ‘Filter’. Never seen him here before, but I heard he came tonight.”

“You gonna play his song?”

“Fuck no. I don’t do pop.” Namjoon didn’t think the song was so bad. The guy had a great voice and he was sexy as all hell. Namjoon appreciated all types of music.

The soju really was smooth.

The club was really getting hot, he thought, and removed his jacket. He didn’t realize how much of it he’d drunk until he knocked over half a shot on Yoongi’s equipment. He got a good yelling at and was pushed out of the booth to “dance it off”. Namjoon always had been clumsy, but drunk Namjoon was on another level.

He was drunk enough not to mind being pushed out as much as he normally would. He made his way into the flow. He wouldn’t have called himself a dancer, but he wasn’t without moves. Just because he hated big clubs didn’t mean he hadn’t spent time in any. Yoongi knew his jams too and like a mind-reader played just the right songs to get Namjoon to relax and blend into the crush. It wasn’t so bad, really, as long as you were on at least your twelfth shot of soju...maybe sixteenth. He’d lost count. He even thought he was starting to have a little fun.

Something seemed to change around him. He didn’t notice it at first and when he did he couldn’t put his finger on what had changed, exactly. He kept dancing, the thought that something was happening floating in the back of his mind largely unacknowledged. There were hands on his chest. Small hands compared to his broad chest, coming from behind him. He could feel the fingers on his own skin through the holes in his shirt. They were moving with the music and connected to someone dancing up against his back. He moved his hips in time with the person behind him. By the hands he honestly couldn’t tell if it was a woman or a small man, and it really didn’t matter to him. He turned around anyway and for a moment he still wasn’t sure, but then he figured it out. Small man. Trim figure. Black baseball cap on, black silk shirt open most of the way down, tight back pants similar to his own. He couldn’t see the man’s face well, but there were lips there that looked nice. What he did notice was that the man could move. They picked up on each other’s rhythm and soon were dancing like they were choreographed. Damn! He’d never seen anyone move like that before, so fluid and sexual and perfectly timed with his own movements. This guy was a pro.

Namjoon was not aggressive. Yoongi would say that was part of his problem. He was, however, a hard worker, and he thought that was more important. Even now while dancing with a stranger, he wanted to please his partner. He touched him back, a hand on his lower back, but he didn’t touch anywhere he felt would be a violation of the other man. The young man didn’t seem to have such boundaries. His hands went everywhere as they danced. Namjoon was certain he had purposefully felt him up down below to gage his size. Well, his size was growing as they danced, but was luckily contained by his tight pants. Turned out those were necessary in a club scene after all.

Those small hands were talented too. Everything about this man was talented, right down to the tongue on his ear. Much more of this and he was going to have a mess to clean up when he got home. He tried to say something along those lines to the other man, but he shook his head. Too loud, he couldn’t hear. Namjoon did get a dazzling smile for his efforts, though, at the same time as the man moved Namjoon’s hand from his waist to his pert ass. Namjoon might not be aggressive, but he could accept an invitation. This guy had a dazzling smile. It seemed really familiar to him somehow, but he couldn’t place it.

The music changed to something slower and a little quieter though still pounding, just as Namjoon was reaching the point of overstimulation. Yoongi always was able to read the room. His partner dragged him by his shirt (if you could call it a shirt) to somewhere slightly less crowded and loud. He thought they were finally going to be able to talk. He certainly was interested in talking to this sexy man, but instead he was kissed. It was a forceful, sweaty kiss. The small man’s tongue entered his mouth, connecting with his own and sending sparks through him. He was even a great kisser! And those hands never stopped moving, running through his hair, down his neck, over his broad shoulders, and back down his body again, not to mention the thigh that pressed between his legs. Yes, he was going to lose it. He pulled back but with a smile to show nothing was wrong. He had to yell near his ear to be heard.

“Hey, I’m Namjoon. What’s your name?” The young man seemed like he would laugh, but he stopped himself. The man’s tongue ran over his full lips as he made a decision.

“Hey Namjoon. You want to get out of here?” Suddenly he had butterflies in his stomach, which he would never tell Yoongi about when he recounted these events later.

“Where?”

“I have a room. Not far.” He couldn’t say no. That wasn’t an option.

“Sure. But tell me your name first.” The man’s lovely lips quirked.

“Jimin,” he said. Namjoon has to have him repeat it, so he does. Namjoon chuckled. That was funny.

“Like the singer,” he said. Jimin smiled a smile that just floored him, and something started to click in his mind.

“Yeah, like the singer.” Namjoon turned his head and looked back towards the booth with the bodyguards, confused. Jimin turned his head back to him with a finger on his chin. “Decoy,” Jimin told him. “This isn’t my first time.” He gave him a knowing look. Namjoon thought his legs might give out on him. His throat was suddenly dry.

“Me?” he asked stupidly. The Jimin, the famous pop star, the Idol, wanted a night with him?

“Mm, yes, you.” He seemed amused. Namjoon was lost. This was unbelievable.

“So do we just...leave?” Jimin shook his head. His hand ran up under Namjoon’s mesh shirt over his sweat covered muscles. It was distracting as fuck.

“I’ll leave. My assistant will get you a car. I’ll meet you there.”

“Where?” Jimin chuckled again.

“Don’t worry. Just listen to Hobi.” He reached up to give Namjoon’s ear lobe a little lick and nibble and then said, “I’ll be waiting for you.” He ducked out of his arms and seemed to melt into the crowd. Namjoon stood there stunned, unable to believe that had actually happened. He still hadn’t moved when someone new was suddenly beside him, tossing an arm across his shoulders.

“Hi there! I’m Hoseok. Come with me, pretty boy. I’ll take care of you.” Namjoon looked up to see a tall man in bright designer clothes and a big smile wink at him. Behind them the bodyguards were moving out of the club with whoever was supposed to be Jimin, though he doubted now it was actually him.

“Let me tell my friend I’m going,” he said, surprising himself. Was he actually doing this?! Apparently he was. He went back to Yoongi’s booth and didn’t exactly tell him what had happened, just that he was going to a hotel room with someone he’d met. It was too unbelievable of a story to share just yet. There was still a chance it was all some sick joke, after all. Yoongi gave him his full support. Namjoon grabbed his jacket and one more shot before heading back down. Namjoon let Hoseok lead him out of the club. It was too loud to ask questions until they were outside.

His ears were ringing. The street noise seemed muted after the loud beats of the club. His head was swimming. He was suddenly cold as the night air hit his sweaty skin. He put on his jacket. He saw a large black SUV drive off. He wondered if that was Jimin’s car. Hoseok opened the door of a black town car for him.

“Hop on in, Romeo, and we’ll talk.” Normally Namjoon would think twice about getting into a car with some random man, but this was no ordinary night. He got in. Hoseok got in beside him. There was a leather satchel in the car already. Hoseok sat back casually on the seat with one arm thrown over the back, his legs crossed. He was perfectly at ease. Namjoon thought he was losing his mind. “Have some water. You need your hydration,” Hoseok said, nodding his head towards some bottles of water in the door. Namjoon took one and gulped most of it down in one go.

“Was that really Park Jimin?” he asked after. Hoseok laughed. He had an easy smile.

“What’s your name?” Namjoon told him. “Well, Namjoon, yes it was. And he’s hoping you’ll join him in his hotel room. How’s that sound?” It sounded fucking unbelieveable.

“Yeah. Good.” It was hard to form words. Hoseok seemed amused. How often exactly did they do this? How many other random men had been pulled out of clubs like by the hand of God to please the Idol? Speaking of, shit...he would need condoms. Probably. Hopefully.

Hoseok seemed to be able to tell he was in over his head. Maybe he was used to it. “Great! We just have one thing to get out of the way first.” He reached into the satchel and pulled out some stapled papers. They looked like a legal document. Namjoon stared at the papers. This was getting too real. “Don’t look so frightened. It’s just a super basic, very standard, nothing to be afraid of, non-disclosure agreement. That’s all!”

“That’s all, huh?”

“And completely not optional, I’m afraid.” Hoseok clicked a pen. “Date and sign and we will be on our way!”

“What exactly am I signing?” He took the pen but not the paper.

“You can’t tell anyone about this little night of fun or we’ll sue those tight pants off you.” At Namjoon’s expression he laughed and slapped Namjoon’s knee. “Don’t look so scared! Just think of it as a little secret between the two of you. Don’t tell any Press about how my dear friend likes to have his fun, and we all win!” He leaned forward, squeezing his thigh. “Trust me. It’ll be worth it.” Wink.

What the hell. Namjoon signed. Yoongi would have been proud. When would something like this ever happen to him again? Hoseok gave him a bright smile and tucked the pen and paper away. “Off we go!” he called to the driver, who pulled away from the club. Hoseok sat back again, fully relaxed. “Have more water. You’ll need it.” Namjoon did drink more, though his eyes were warily on Hoseok the whole time.

“How often do you do this?” he asked.

“Mm...not very often. It’s not exactly...easy to pull off. And we’re pretty busy, as I’m sure you can imagine.” That was somewhat reassuring, Namjoon thought. Then he remembered.

“Oh--shit! I need...supplies.” Hoseok grinned at him.

“You’re cute. You’re really cute. I see why he picked you. Don’t worry. Everything you need will be there.”

Namjoon didn’t know what to say next. He felt like he should ask a lot more questions, but his mind was foggy and blank. He just kept thinking about those rosebud lips, that tongue on his ear, the greedy hands on his body...He takes a deep breath.

“What’s he like?” He asked. Hoseok tilted his head.

“What’s he like or what does he like?”

“I mean, as a person.”

“Hm.” Hoseok seemed to apprise him differently now. He considered how much to share. “He’s really funny. He’s really sweet.” He paused, leaving something out. “Be nice to him, alright? It’s a lonely world, you know?”

“Yeah…” He thought he did know. He finished a second bottle of water as he counted back the months since he had last gone on a date or slept with someone. Too many. “So you’re like, his assistant?”

“Sort of. More like a friend. I’m the dance captain for his crew.”

Namjoon thought that was interesting. “How did you meet?” he asked.

“We had the same dance instructor back in the day. When he needed someone, he brought me with him.”

“Must be nice.”

“It’s a hard life, but it’s got perks. Mostly that I get to dance.” Hoseok grinned again. Namjoon noticed he didn’t ask questions back. He thought he knew why. Best not to get too involved with the boss’s one night stands. God, he was getting nervous.

They pulled up to a hotel, but not just any hotel, one of the swankiest in town.

Namjoon gapped. “Here?”

Hoseok nodded. “Top floor.”

Namjoon started to have second thoughts. “I don’t know, man…”

Hoseok pursed his lips. “You don’t have to go.” He was annoyed, not because he cared what Namjoon did, but because he’d be the one to deal with the fallout after.

Namjoon looked at Hoseok for help, but didn’t receive any. He would have to make this decision on his own. He thought of what Yoongi would say right now, and then gathered himself and got out of the car. Hoseok rolled down his window and leaned out, holding a keycard up but out of reach.

“Just one more thing. I need your phone.”

“What?”

“Can’t have any pictures or videos randomly popping up online. Don’t worry. It’ll be at the front desk for you when you leave.” He held out his hand. Hoseok really hated all of this. There’s a moment where Namjoon doesn’t move. “Look, I know it’s weird, but the world’s biggest pop star is up there right now waiting for you to fuck him. You going to walk away from that? Do you have something better to do tonight? I promise, you’ll get your phone back just as it is.”

“Fuck it.” He puts his phone in Hoseok’s hand and is given the keycard.

“Just go all the way up.”

Namjoon turned to the grand hotel entrance. He wished he had a little more of that soju right now.

As he stepped inside, doors held open for him by a doorman who’s eyes seemed to look right through him, he realized how he must look to everyone right now, and he was suddenly mortified. He walked in and searched for the bathroom right away and hurried to it as inconspicuously as he could. He went to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. God, he looked awful. He looked like he’d gotten drunk at a club and was on his way for a hookup. Which was all true. With a sigh, he did his best to clean up, but there wasn’t much to be done now. What he needed was a shower and a change of clothes, but it was too late for that.

Trying to avoid all eye contact, he made his way to the elevator. Inside, blessedly alone, he hit the top button. The Penthouse. He had to use the keycard to even get it to go there. This was indeed the weirdest thing he’d ever done in his life. As he made his way up, all his self-doubt came crashing over him. Why him? Why would the world’s biggest pop star want an evening with him? It made no sense. He was average looking at best. He was an average dancer at best. Anything he excelled at, Jimin had no idea about. He just knew as soon as he arrived he would be laughed at and kicked out and it would all have been for nothing. Jimin would look at him in the light and change his mind. He’d have to ride the elevator of shame all the way back down and then go to the front desk to ask for his phone like an idiot. It would be a disaster. It would be the worst night of his life. God, he was so thirsty!

After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened to a small hallway. There was only one door and it was guarded by a huge man in black. Namjoon stepped out of the elevator, gripping the keycard like a lifeline. He cleared his throat.

“Hey. Uhm. I have a...I’m expected?” He had no idea what to say to this large man. What if he was in the wrong place? He started to sweat. The man didn’t say a word, but opened the door for him. “Oh. Uh. Thanks,” he said and stepped forward.

The view was stunning. The first thing he noticed was the wall of windows, showing the city below them. The ceiling was two stories high and the windows went all the way up. They were so high up, for a moment he had vertigo. Everything in the room was underrated opulence, but even in such a surprisingly large room, the furniture had a cozy feeling to it. He gaped for a moment and then noticed another guard standing on this side of the door, which nearly made him jump out of his skin.

“Namjoon!” His attention snapped back to the living room. There he was. Jimin stood and turned to him, having been sitting on the couch facing the windows. It was like something from a movie. He looked totally different, no longer wearing a baseball cap and all black. He was in a floral silk robe, tied at the waist that flowed around him like water. His hair was a dark blond color which seemed surprisingly natural on him. His eyes were a hazel color and his lips pink and glossy. “You came,” Jimin said. He sounded relieved. Maybe Namjoon wouldn’t be laughed out of the door after all. He smiled.

Chapter 2: The Hotel

With one more wary glance at the guard he entered the living room. Jimin motioned for him to join him. Namjoon left his shoes by the door and stepped around the couch. God, he looked so beautiful it made Namjoon’s chest hurt. Jimin offered him a glass of champagne. He took the glass, feeling hopelessly out of place. Jimin was still smiling at him, his hands playing with the belt of his robe. Was he nervous? That didn’t make any sense.

“Hey,” Namjoon said, trying to sound cool and certain he was failing miserably. “Nice place you got here.”

“Mm. Yeah. I like the view.” They both looked out the windows. It was stunning. Namjoon’s eyes went right back to Jimin though.

“Uhm. Sorry I couldn’t...clean up. I probably smell like--club. You look--amazing.”

“Thanks. You look amazing too, don’t worry. I didn’t really know what to...I’m glad you came.” There was that smile again. He definitely looked nervous, which somehow made Namjoon less so, even if just a little. “I know it’s a little...weird. I’m sorry. They won’t let me, otherwise...It’s a sort of compromise.” He looked so apologetic that Namjoon felt the need to reassure him. He put a hand on his arm.

“It’s alright. I get it. I mean, yeah, it’s weird, but...we’re here.” Jimin seemed pleased with that. He nodded and relaxed some.

“Sit down. Have some champagne. I’ll put on some music.” He went to a control panel Namjoon would never have even noticed. Soon Frank Ocean was playing in the background.

Namjoon sat and sipped the drink. He glanced back at the guard standing near the door. “Is he just going to…”

“Oh…” Jimin sat beside him, looking apologetic again. “Just ignore him. We can always go in the bedroom. He’ll stay here. He won’t bother us.” There was an unspoken unless in there somewhere, Namjoon was certain.

“That’s got to be weird, to never be alone.”

“I’m alone too much,” Jimin replied quickly, then seemed to regret it. He picked up the other glass and had a sip. “Do you like it? I can get you something else. There’s a bar. You can have whatever you want. There’s Soju.”

“It’s good.” He sipped the drink to show how he was enjoying it, though he wasn’t really much of a champagne person. He’d prefer something stronger. He felt far too sober for someone who had had so much to drink not that long ago.

“You don’t like it. What do you want?” He set down his glass and jumped up, running over to the bar.

“Are you going to bartend?” Namjoon turned to look at him as he started pulling out various bottles of drinks. It was quite amusing to see.

“Yes. I’ll make you a Jimin Special.” Namjoon went over and stood on the other side of the small bar.

“Well, this I have to try.” It turned out to be a crazy concoction of Makgeolli, blueberry Vinegar, Sikhye, and an energy drink. It was a hazy bluish color. When he was done, Jimin pushed one over to Namjoon with pride. Namjoon wasn’t too sure about the look of this drink.

“Your drink, sir. Be sure to tip your bartender.”

“I think I’ll try it first.” He took a sip and nodded. It was actually not as bad as it looked. “Not bad! I may tip him after all.”

“No rush! You can start a tab.” Jimin smiled and scooted around the bar to join him, hoping up on one of the barstools. He pulled over his own drink and had a sip. When he crossed his legs, the silk slipped down, baring his smooth legs up to his thighs. Did he even have anything on underneath that…? Namjoon took another longer drink. Thank god the Jimin Special was pretty strong.

“I’ma need another of these in a minute,” he said.

“You should make me one,” Jimin suggested.

“Deal.” Namjoon started to change the topic, to ask Jimin something about himself, but Jimin interrupted his thoughts.

“It’s really so nice you’re here. Tell me something about yourself.”

“Just...anything?”

“Anything you want.” Jimin leaned his head on his hand, elbow on the bar as he looked at Namjoon expectantly.

“Mm...well…” What did someone say about themselves to someone so famous? Everything sounded so lame. “I’m a rapper. I don’t usually go to clubs. And I never dress like this.” Jimin smiled softly at him. It was so hard to think when he did that.

“You look good in it. I don’t go to clubs either. I want to hear you rap.” Namjoon laughed right away.

“No. No way. I can’t rap in front of you.” Jimin looked offended.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re Park Jimin! You did a song with Drake!” Those pink lips go into a pout. Oh no. He was going to give in, wasn’t he? Now the nightmare would begin. “You might not like it.”

“I will! If I don’t, I’ll pretend I do and you’ll never know.”

“That is not reassuring.”

“Please?” Jimin’s voice got a hint of a whine in it and reached out and squeezed Namjoon’s thigh for emphasis. Namjoon could see he was used to getting what he wanted, and with good reason.

“...I’ll play you something off my mixtape.” That seemed to appease him. He beamed at him happily. Namjoon reached for his phone...which he didn’t have. He cursed. “They took my phone.”

“Oh...right.”

“I could…” text it to you? Email? Let you hear it next time? None of those things were going to happen.

“It’s okay! But I hope I can hear you rap sometime soon.” Namjoon sucked on his drink.

“Hey, uhm...can I ask you something?” he said. Why not make an awkward situation even more awkward? Jimin nodded, also drinking. “Why’d you pick...me?” Jimin made a face at the question. “Come on, there were way hotter guys there and better dancers too. Why me?”

“I picked you because I liked you.”

“How’d you know you’d like me?”

“I knew.” He hit the bar with his hand. “Make me a drink!” Namjoon could see he wasn’t going to get an answer just yet. Alright, fine. Drinks were probably a good idea. He drank down the last of his drink.

“As you wish!” Probably best not to push the Idol too far. The looming guard was a constant reminder of that. He got up and went around the bar. Damn, it really was fully stocked! He pulled out some Coke, Soju, and beer. “A Namjoon Special, coming up.” He mixed two drinks, heavy on the beer. It was not an original drink. Jimin smirked and took it.

“Is that the best you can do?” he asked.

“Hey, classics will outlive us all.” He clinked their glasses and drank half of his down. That was better. He could feel his buzz again. Jimin drank as well, his eyes on Namjoon.

“Do you get a lot of rap gigs?”

“I do alright. No stadium tours yet,” he jokes, “Mostly bars. But, you know, gotta keep chasing the dream, right?”

“Mm.”

“Do you like being famous?” As soon as he asked it, Namjoon realized it was a tacky question. “Sorry, nevermind. Don’t answer that.” The question seemed to make Jimin self-conscious. His eyes drifted away. Namjoon beat himself up internally. Idiot.

Before Namjoon could think of what to say next to ruin things more, Jimin chugged his entire drink and then stood up.

“Let’s dance!” He went over to the music controls without waiting for an answer and changed the music to Blackpink, turning it up so loud that Namjoon was certain people could hear it three floors below them. Wow. Okay. He really shouldn’t have asked that question, he guessed. He down the rest of his drink and joined him. At least he hadn’t been kicked out, just silenced. He really didn’t think he wanted to know what an Idol temper tantrum was like.

Before he could awkwardly wonder what kind of dancing Jimin had in mind, Jimin let it be known. He grabbed Namjoon and pulled him close against him. One of Jimin’s hands went right to Namjoon’s ass as he grinded against him. He knew what was expected of him now, and honestly, he was perfectly willing to try to give that to him, if he could manage not to mess it all up completely first. He danced with him, a hand on his lower back again. Did Jimin roll his eyes at him? He wasn’t quite certain. But then Jimin was pushing Namjoon’s jacket off of his shoulders and onto the floor. He felt a little self-conscious again without it, but Jimin didn’t give him time to dwell on it. He sang along with the girl’s song, his voice blending perfectly with theirs as he pulled him towards the giant windows by his belt. He didn’t have long to wonder what he was up to, before Jimin was undoing his belt as he sang and gyrated to the music. He gave Namjoon a naughty smile as he unbuttoned and unzipped him. Namjoon tried to remember to move to the song, but was soon frozen as the small hand reached into his pants. The guard behind him! The windows in front! He gulped. Jimin let his robe fall off one shoulder coyly and he sunk to his knees. He certainly had nothing on under the top half of the robe, but Namjoon still was uncertain about the bottom half.

Before he knew it, his pants were being tugged to the ground and the Idol was rubbing him through his boxer briefs. His heart was racing and his breathing sped up. This was actually going to happen. He was going to—No, he had to stop thinking of Jimin as some Idol. He was just a guy, on his knees before him, looking up at him, probably wanting the exact same thing he did. He consciously softened his expression and gave him a grin. Jimin grinned back and Namjoon felt something click.

And then his cock was out and this tongue licked up his shaft and he thought his legs would give out. Jimin held the base steady with his hand as his tongue worked around it, teasing him. He avoided the head until Namjoon was as hard as a rock, which drove him crazy. Then a condom appeared out of the pocket of Jimin’s robe and he rolled it on him. Namjoon was almost grateful for it. He didn’t think he could last long without it. Jimin’s mouth taking in his cock was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. He would be seeing those lips in his dreams for the rest of his life, he thought. When he began sucking, it was almost too much to take. Namjoon reached out and steadied himself with a palm against the window. He could see the whole city before them on the other side of the glass but none of them knew what was happening right above them.

“Ah, Jimin, I’m going to...I’m gonna…” He looked back down at him and with a groan he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. It was embarrassing, but Jimin didn’t seem to mind. A few tissues later, the mess was cleaned up. Jimin stood and went to the music controls. He changed it to something softer and looked at Namjoon over his exposed shoulder. “That was...wow,” Namjoon said.

“I know.” Jimin motioned with his finger and walked to the bedroom, not waiting for Namjoon. Unsure what to do with his clothes, he left his pants and tucked himself back in his underwear and followed. The room was similar in style to the living room but much smaller. It also had a wall of windows and there was a lavish bathroom attached. Jimin was on the bed sitting up on his knees, which were spread apart.

Namjoon’s nerves started to show again. Now it was his turn to reciprocate. Normally he wouldn’t be phased by that, but he felt pressure to live up to this gorgeous person who was obviously skilled in this area as well.

Jimin offered the belt of his robe to Namjoon, who took it, uncertain. “Pull,” Jimin told him, so he did, untying the robe. Jimin let it fall off of his other shoulder and onto the bed. Underneath he had on pink lace underwear that hardly concealed or held his growing erection. Namjoon’s heart was pounding in his chest. Jimin turned and crawled away from him on the bed. His ass was small, round, and tight. Namjoon felt his throat go dry. Jimin looked back at him over his shoulder seductively, as if Namjoon needed any further seducing...Still, he was uncertain.

“Tell me what you want,” he said to Jimin. Jimin smiled.

“I just want to feel good,” he replied, turning and laying on his back, propped up on his elbows, waiting. Okay, thought Namjoon, he could do that.

He removed his ridiculous shirt (God, he was going to have to leave wearing that, wasn’t he? Horrifying.) and crawled over to Jimin, hovering over him. Jimin looked up at him expectantly. Namjoon lowered his head and kissed him on the neck. Jimin tilted his head back, accommodating. Namjoon kissed him, taking his time, going lower and lower. He moved down to his clavicle, his chest, took a moment to pay attention to both small, dark nipples, and worked his way down his toned stomach. When he reached his groin, he continued his kisses over Jimin’s underwear, mouthing over him, kissing and tounging him down his shaft to his balls and back up. Jimin began to squirm under him and made a pleasurable moan. Encouraged, Namjoon licked over the head that peaked out of the lace and Jimin’s hips pushed up, encouraging him. He pulled down the lace with a finger and licked him more. He could hear Jimin’s breathing quicken as his tongue moved over him. Then Jimin’s hand was in his hair.

“Come here,” He beckoned before he finished and pulled Namjoon back over him. He brought their mouths together and kissed him deeply, invading Namjoon’s mouth with his greedy tongue. Jimin’s hand went down between them and palmed Namjoon. He whispered, “Get hard for me again.” It was not a difficult request. Jimin hooked a leg around Namjoon’s hip, pulling their bodies flush against each other and they kissed until Namjoon was ready again. Jimin pointed to the nightstand, where more condoms and a bottle of lube was waiting. Namjoon licked his lips in anticipation and made eye contact with Jimin. This was really happening? Jimin smiled.

“Hurry.” He didn’t need more encouragement. Namjoon climbed off of him and discarded his own underwear and got the condom on. He brought over the lubricant to Jimin who made no move to remove his own lace. He spread his legs, knees raised. “Leave them on,” he told Namjoon. Namjoon put some lube on his fingers. When he looked closer, he saw the panties had a slit for just such an occasion. Nervous as all hell, he rubbed a slick finger over Jimin’s hole and slid it in easily. Jimin watched him, a little amused. He moved his hips with him in encouragement. Namjoon worked in a second finger and hoped he was doing everything alright. Jimin rocked his hips against the fingers, pushing them in deeper, moaning a little for fun, fucking Namjoon’s fingers. God, it was insanely sexy, Namjoon thought. Jimin pulled back, Namjoon’s fingers sliding out. He licked his lips.

“Let’s go,” he said. Namjoon rubbed lube over his hard shaft, so nervous he nearly dropped the bottle in the process, and then lined himself up. He had to take a deep breath and let it out first, but then he pushed himself in. There was resistance at first, but not much. He leaned over Jimin, hands on the bed on either side of him, in to the hilt. It felt so good, so tight. Jimin tossed his head back and also took a deep breath and let it out. Then he looked up at Namjoon and pulled him down for a kiss with a hand on his neck.

“Start moving before I die,” He told him and Namjoon complied, pulling out halfway and back in again slowly. He could feel the lace rubbing against his cock. Jimin made the most beautiful little noises against his lips. “Faster,” Jimin insisted. Namjoon moved a hand to Jimin’s hip to hold him in place and started pumping faster, going deeper with each thrust. Jimin arched his back and wrapped a leg around Namjoon’s back. His small hands raked across Namjoon’s shoulders. “Harder!” Namjoon adjusted his position and began to fuck him in earnest, slapping against him until Jimin melted under him, eyes shut, mouth open, clinging to Namjoon desperately.

Before Namjoon could finish a second time, though, he stopped him, his voice breathless. “Window!” He said. “Pick me up!” Namjoon thought he understood. He pulled out carefully then pulled Jimin to the edge of the bed. Jimin wrapped both legs around him and his arms around his neck and Namjoon picked him up. He took him to the window, pressing Jimin’s back to it. Namjoon didn’t usually engage in such unusual positions, but he would have done absolutely anything Jimin requested at that moment just to be able to keep fucking him. He got himself lined up again and used Jimin’s own weight to enter him again. Jimin clung to him tightly, bouncing on Namjoon’s cock as he pressed back against the glass. He dug his nails into Namjoon’s shoulders. Namjoon did his best to go as hard as he could though the position was a little strenuous for him. Jimin seemed to love it. He gasped and bounced until he’d had enough.

“Ah! Namjoon!” Jimin whined. “Let me down!” He set him down. Jimin went quickly to the plush chair and leaned over the arm. “Go, go!” he insisted. Namjoon thrust right back into him from behind and slapped against him, holding his hips, faster and harder, as Jimin gripped the chair for his life, coming on it while he was pounded into. Not long after that Namjoon climaxed as well. He slowed and stayed inside Jimin as he caught his breath, sweat beaded over his brow and chest. Jimin collapsed over the chair, catching his breath as well. Carefully Namjoon pulled himself out and discarded the condom. He brought over the tissues for Jimin, who didn’t seem much interested in moving, so he cleaned him himself. Jimin looked at him over his shoulder and grinned. He held out his hand for Namjoon to help him up, which he did. Jimin pressed up against him and gave him a long, softer kiss, then patted his cheek. He walked past him to the bathroom.

Namjoon sat on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. He wiped a hand over his forehead, head swimming. Goddamn, that had been something else. A few minutes later, the bed moved and then two hands slid down his chest from behind. He turned his head and smiled. Jimin kissed his cheek then pulled back again. He tugged the covers of the bed down and climbed under them. He reached out for Namjoon to join him. As soon as Namjoon was under them as well, Jimin was wrapped around him, his head on Namjoon’s chest. Namjoon was surprised to notice that Jimin was fully naked now. His skin felt so good against his own.

“That was...incredible,” Namjoon said. Jimin hummed. “Thank you for...inviting me.” He didn’t get a response to that. “Will you tell me now?” Jimin hummed again with a question mark this time. “Why’d you pick me?” There was a little pause before he answered.

“I could tell you were nice,” Jimin said, eyes closed.

“How could you tell?” Namjoon asked.

“Mm...I saw you in the DJ booth. Was that your boyfriend?”

“Just a friend. Don’t change the subject. How’d you know I wasn’t an asshole?” Jimin’s fingers played over Namjoon’s chest lightly.

“You looked nervous up there. It was cute. You were respectful when you danced. Not aggressive. I don’t like aggressive guys.” Namjoon could guess why. Jimin was the aggressive one, he thought. Jimin opened his eyes and looked up at him. “I have a good radar for these things. And you could move so I knew you’d be good in bed. And you were so sexy. It was easy to choose.”

“What if I’d have said no?” Namjoon teased. Jimin reached up and booped his nose.

“No one says no.”

“I might have.”

“Then I’d have been sad and lonely tonight. Is that what you’d have wanted? Why are you so cruel?” Namjoon grinned down at him.

“No way. I’m too nice for that.”

“Exactly.” Jimin closed his eyes and relaxed again. Namjoon wanted to say more, a lot more, but he held back. He’d just end up saying the wrong thing again.

“Just...let me know when you want me to go,” he said.

“Not yet...” Jimin said. Then he opened his eyes again. “Are you hungry? We can get some food.”

“Sure.” Jimin sat up and pulled his phone from the bedside table and sent a text.

“Hobi will order us something.” He set his phone aside and settled back against Namjoon.

“You always stay in rooms like this?” Namjoon asked. Jimin chuckled. “What?”

“This isn’t my room,” Jimin confessed.

“What?”

“My room is on the third floor with the rest of my team. This was just for...tonight. For fun. I have a regular room like everyone else.” Namjoon looked at him in disbelief.

“You’re kidding.”

“These big rooms are too much for me. They always feel so empty. I don’t like them alone.”

“Hm. That makes sense.” They’re quiet for a moment and then Namjoon asks, “How long are you in town for…?” Jimin didn’t answer right away. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that.

“A couple of days. For interviews.”

“Nice. Where to next?”

“Uhm...Tokyo, I think?”

“That’s cool. Do you like it? Traveling?”

“Sometimes.” Namjoon found it so difficult to know what to talk about, but he desperately wanted Jimin to trust him, let down his guard, and just let them get to know each other like regular people. He wanted to take him on a date, actually, though he could see that was impossible. Chances were once he left he would never see Jimin in person again. It was a really shitty thought.

“I want to travel more. When I can afford it. I think I’d like touring,” Namjoon said.

“Just make sure you take good people with you.”

“Seems like Hoseok is a good friend.”

“He is. I think I rely on him too much.” That was the first personal thing Jimin had said to him. Namjoon smiled to himself.

“He seemed alright with it.” Jimin didn’t have anything to say to that.

Not long later they could hear the guard letting someone in. The room service had arrived. Namjoon got up and put his boxer briefs back on and went and got the rolling cart and brought it back to the bedroom. He was surprised how quickly he got used to having someone else so nearby. The guy really did kind of disappear in the background. They sat up in bed and ate a variety of foods that Hoseok ordered for them and chatted. Namjoon noticed Jimin didn’t each much himself. He just nibbled mostly. It made him a little sad. They also had some tea and water. Hoseok had been right. He needed the hydration.

After, Jimin asked, “Do you want to shower with me?” How could Namjoon say no?

It was a large shower with a light up waterfall shower head above their heads. The water felt so relaxing on Namjoon’s body after their exertion. He thought he could fall asleep right there. They cleaned each other, laughing when it tickled. Namjoon thought this was his favorite part of the evening. He really wished he had a clean change of clothing once they were done, however, but he had no such luck.

As he toweled off, he watched Jimin remove his colored contacts and put lotion on his face and neck.

“You look really good like that,” Namjoon said.

“Like what?”

“Like...yourself. Natural.” Jimin looked at him and smiled, but it was clear he didn’t believe him.

“My skin looks so blotchy!” Namjoon went over to him and put his arms around him from behind, looking at him in the mirror.

“Naw, it looks perfect.”

“Hm.” Jimin put on some eye cream and lip gloss before he was finished. Then he looked back at Namjoon through the mirror. “You can stay a while, if you want. Take a nap…” Namjoon chuckled.

“Isn’t it like 4am by now?”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“Well, then.”

Namjoon joined him in bed again and slept for a couple of hours with Jimin’s head on his chest. He found he was indeed exhausted and fell asleep easily. Jimin woke him around 6am and he got dressed, still half asleep.

He didn’t ask if he would see him again as they kissed goodbye at the hotel room door. What would be the point? He didn’t thank him again for the evening either. He simply gave him a smile as the elevator doors closed and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach as the beautiful boy disappeared from his sight.

He nearly forgot his phone once he was in the lobby. He zipped his jacket all the way up and awkwardly went to the front desk where indeed his phone was waiting for him. He had several messages from Yoongi wondering where he was. Would Yoongi even believe him when he told him?

And then he saw one other message from an unknown number. Namjoon smiled to himself.

It read: don’t forget to send me your mixtape :)

Chapter 3: The Photographer (or The Third Wheel)

“You signed a contract in order to have sex with some guy? Are you insane?!”

“Okay, but he was really hot.”

“I can’t believe you did that. I’m so ashamed.”

“He gave me his number.”

“Booty Call number.”

“We’ve been texting! I thought you’d be proud of me for going outside my comfort zone. Taking a risk.”

“This isn’t what I had in mind.”

“He listened to my mixtape. He said he liked it.”

“And, what, now he’s putting you on his next album? Come on!”

“Did I mention how hot he was?”

Yoongi shook his head in disbelief as he tried to work at his computer on a song. It was no use. He was hopelessly distracted now.

Namjoon sat on his couch nearby, flipping through a Rolling Stone Korea magazine. Jimin was on the cover. He held up a full page photo of the Idol lounging seductively in a white suit with the shirt open to his navel for Yoongi to see.

“You wouldn’t sign a little piece of paper for this?”

Yoongi glanced at it. “Nope.” Though… if he were being honest, it might not be as bad of a deal as he was making it out to be. The guy was pretty hot.

“Liar.”

“Whatever. It’s not like you’re ever going to see him again.”

Namjoon grinned and flipped to the next page of the magazine without replying. Yoongi looked at him again.

“What?” he asked.

“What?” Namjoon asked back, innocently.

“When?” Yoongi corrected, catching his drift.

“Not sure. Soon. Tonight or tomorrow when he’s back in town.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

As if by fate, Namjoon’s phone buzzed just then. He grabbed it and checked who it was. His face lit up and he hopped onto his knees.

“Oooooh-ho!”

Yoongi’s attention snapped back to him.

“What?”

Namjoon showed him the screen. It was Jimin calling.

“No way!” Yoongi said, then added, “Put it on speaker.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Namjoon answered the phone casually, putting it on speaker for Yoongi, but holding a finger up to his mouth, telling him to stay quiet. Yoongi leaned in to listen.

“Hey Joonie!” Jimin’s voice said. Yoongie mouthed “Joonie!” and his eyes nearly rolled out of his head. Namjoon shoved his shoulder.

“Hey Jimin, good to hear from you! How’er you doing?”

“Good! We just landed. Heading to the hotel. You wanna come over tonight? Are you busy?” Namjoon thought he could hear someone talking to Jimin in the background. Was someone listening in on his end as well?

“Yeah, I can do that. Where are you staying?”

“The Lotte. Around ten. I’ll leave a key for you at the desk.” Jimin’s voice was muffled for a moment as he spoke to someone else. “Okay, can’t wait to see you! Bye, Joon!” he said, in a rush and hung up.

“Okay, bye.” Namjoon hung up the call and looked up at Yoongi. “BAM! How about that?” Yoongi refused to be impressed.

“Congratulations. You’re a booty call. I told you.”

“Better than a one night stand. Jealous? You want to come along? Meet a real star?”

“I’m good. No one likes a third wheel.”

***

“Jiminie! What are you doing?”

“I want to see him again.”

“You’re already seeing someone tonight, remember?”

“I know. I think they’ll get along.” Hoseok gave Jimin his version of a stern look, his lips puckered. They sat in the backseat of an SUV on their way to the hotel. “I want to see him and I don’t have any other nights free. It’ll be fun!” Jimin leaned on his shoulder. “Do you want to come too? There’s always room for more!”

“Tempting, tempting, but no, I have my own plans. I have a life too, you know!”

“You do? How dare you!” Hoseok ran his hands through Jimin’s hair, which was currently a pink color. His voice changed to a more somber tone.

“That guy seemed really nice. Just be careful with him, alright?”

“I’ll make sure he has a good time. Don’t worry.”

***

This time when Namjoon approaches Jimin’s hotel room, he’s properly dressed. He bought some new clothes for the occasion, but he didn’t plan to mention that to anyone--especially Yoongi. He wore jeans with a black t-shirt and a black leather biker jacket. Casual and cool, he thought, though he felt nearly as nervous as he had the first time he met up with Jimin. At least he knew what to expect now and he’d been allowed to keep his phone.

Jimin’s room wasn’t on the top floor this time, though it was a suite. He supposed Jimin didn’t feel the need to impress him as much now. That seemed like a good sign. Though in all honesty, he hadn’t needed to be the first time either. Jimin was impressive enough on his own. The guard outside the door let him in and once inside the room, he didn’t see the second one, which was a relief.

As soon as he stepped inside, he heard Jimin yell his name. He immediately ran up and jumped into Namjoon’s arms, legs wrapping around him. Namjoon caught him and laughed. He hadn’t expected that.

“Well, hey,” he said, nerves fading quickly. Jimin smiled, kissed him, and then hoped back down. He was wearing an oversized hoodie and jeans and somehow still made it look sexy as hell. He took Namjoon by the hand and brought him into the living room. Namjoon kicked off his shoes as they went.

“I want you to meet someone,” Jimin said eagerly. That’s when Namjoon realized they weren’t alone after all. Sitting back in a plush chair was another man. He had wavy black hair that fell over his face right above his eyes. He had his elbow on the arm of the chair and one finger touching his lips. He had the most sultry expression Namjoon had ever seen. His nerves returned in force. “This is Vante. He’s a photographer. He did my Rolling Stone spread. Did you see it?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it. Hi. I’m Namjoon,” he said, trying to be as civil as possible and hide any disappointment. It didn’t make him feel any better to see that Vante didn’t seem any happier to see Namjoon than he was to see him.

“Hey,” Vante said, not moving, eyes narrow and appraising. Jimin didn’t seem to notice the tension or if he did, he ignored it. He clung to Namjoon’s arm.

“The photos are great,” Namjoon added.

“Thanks.”

“Joon is a fantastic rapper,” Jimin said.

“So you said,” replied Vante. When neither of them said more, Jimin went to the bar and pulled out as many bottles of Soju as he could carry and brought them over.

“Anyone want a drink?” He passed a bottle to everyone and then set out little cups. Namjoon sat on the couch and opened his bottle. He used a cup for his drink but Vante drank straight from the bottle. Jimin started with a cup but it wasn’t long before he drank from the bottle as well. It was going to be that sort of night, was it?

“Vante’s visiting from L.A.” Jimin told Namjoon as he cuddled up beside him on the couch.

“Oh cool.”

“Yeah. So cool.” Vante agreed as he took a sip, though Namjoon didn’t think he meant it. Why was this guy here? He’d expected some alone time and instead he had to deal with this blank faced guy who seemed like he wanted nothing more than for Namjoon to crawl into a hole and die. Was Jimin trying to make him jealous? If he was, he really didn’t need to work so hard at it. Namjoon already felt completely inadequate, he didn’t need some hotshot L.A. photographer to top it off.

Still, it was nice to see Jimin and he liked how he was sitting beside him and how he kept touching and rubbing on his thigh. Vante’s eyes went to Jimin’s hand and then looked away pointedly as he drank. Namjoon turned his attention to Jimin.

“It’s really nice to see you again.” He bit his tongue to keep from adding, I wasn’t sure I ever would. “You look really good.” Jimim managed to both look like he rejected the compliment and loved it.

“I just got back in town. What have you been up to? Tell me everything.”

He caught Jimin up on his activities, but kept it brief. After all, what could he have to say that would really interest a pop idol and a famous photographer? He asked Jimin the same question and got a short recap of his touring. He looked tired, Namjoon thought. Tired and trying to hide it.

“How about you? Why are you in town?” Namjoon asked Vante, trying to be civil. He had nothing against this guy. Maybe he was feeling awkward too.

“Just visiting on my way to Beijing for work.”

“Oh. Nice. Staying long?”

“No,” Vante said as he took a drink, both eyebrows going up for emphasis. And suddenly Namjoon felt like the third wheel. Should he really be here? He turned back to Jimin for guidance but Jimin just smiled.

“I’ll put on some music!” he said. He turned on some music and sat back by Namjoon. But Namjoon couldn’t get past his awkward feeling.

He asked Jimin quietly, “Maybe I should go? See you another time?”

Jimin whined immediately. “No! I want you to stay! Please stay.” He clung to his arm again and threw a look at Vante, who pursed his lips. Namjoon wished he understood the silent communication going on between them. Whatever it was, it had an effect on Vante. His expression softened and he tilted his head, looking at Namjoon.

“Stay,” he said, and ever so briefly his tongue appeared between his lips. “It’ll be fun.” Would it?

He stayed.

***

They were getting low on Soju so Jimin ordered more and some beer. All inhibitions and awkwardness from before had flown from Namjoon’s mind as it was filled instead with alcohol. They talked, they laughed, and actually got along.

Vante, it turned out, had a hundred outrageous stories about Hollywood celebrities that he freely shared. Namjoon silently wondered how many of them the attractive photographer had slept with. He was certain by now Jimin was one of them. There was a charm about Vante that was hard to place. Behind the distant exterior, he was quite hilarious and behind that, he was incredibly sultry, like an old Hollywood starlet from the 40’s. Namjoon found he was enjoying the stories and enjoying himself and he was definitely enjoying Jimin lounging all over him as they talked. The drinks weren’t bad either. Namjoon even freestyle rapped for them about Jimin and had him practically rolling on the floor.

“I want to dance!” Jimin pushed the coffee table covered in empty bottles aside and started to dance to the music between the two of them. He was mesmerizing to watch. Namjoon literally found himself slack jawed watching. A particularly sexy song started and Jimin grabbed Namjoon’s hand, pulling him up. “Dance with me, Joonie,” he demanded. He didn’t hesitate, dancing up on him like they had at the club. He knew he was grinning like a fool, but it didn’t matter. Jimin’s hands were on him and he was bewitched.

And then there was another pair of hands on him, coming from behind. Before he could react, Jimin pulled him down for a kiss. As Jimin’s tongue connected with his own, he felt Vante’s hands move over his hips and up his chest. Suddenly his heart was thumping loudly in his chest. He was glad for the haze in his brain. He would certainly overthink this otherwise. He didn’t stop it. He kissed Jimin back and ran his hands over his pert ass. He wasn’t quite sure how the physics of three worked, but they seemed confident, so he guessed he’d find out.

Events began to blur. They were kissing and touching, someone’s erection was rubbing against his thigh, or maybe more than one. He felt a straining in his own pants. Someone was rubbing him there. Someone else was untucking his shirt. He locked eyes with Vante for a moment. Vante grinned at him lopsidedly and licked his lips. That tongue didn’t seem to like to stay in his mouth and Namjoon was starting to wonder what else it could do.

Jimin dragged Namjoon to the bedroom. Vante followed. Jimin climbed on the bed as Namjoon stood at the foot of it. Jimin unbuckled Namjoon’s belt, undid his pants, and pushed them down while grinning up at him. He had a naughty glint in his eyes. As he laid on his back on the bed, his head towards Namjoon, he heard Vante tisk.

“Take off the hoodie first,” he said as he lounged across the other end of the bed, now shirtless and watching. Namjoon’s eyes strayed over his figure. He was lightly toned and slim. Jimin obeyed, tossing aside the hoodie. Namjoon was a little surprised. He thought Jimin was the one in charge during sex. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Jimin laid back down on his back and let his head fall off the edge of the mattress. He reached over and guided Namjoon’s waiting cock to his mouth, licking over the head while upside down. Namjoon took in a breath and looked over at Vante who was watching. Vante twerked a brow at him, a little smile on his lips. Namjoon turned his attention back to Jimin who wet his cock with his tongue before taking it into his mouth. There was something so erotic about watching his member disappear into Jimin’s throat as his throat was exposed like this. He thrust gently into him with Jimin’s encouragement.

Preoccupied as he was, he didn’t notice at first when Vante moved. He slid Jimin’s pants off of him, leaving him naked, his dick hard and waiting. There was something else too, he had something around his...Oh. A cock ring. Vante had Namjoon’s attention now as he started licking over Jimin’s erection. Jimin moaned around Namjoon’s dick, which vibrates through him. He found his heart was starting to pound harder in his chest. Shit, this was hot.

Vante lifted his ass up off the bed to bring the cock into his mouth. Jimin helped, feet planted on the bed as he gripped the bed with arms outstretched, and sucked Namjoon harder, deeper into his throat. Vante pulled him out of his mouth and moved his head lower, licking over the trapped balls and then lower still.

“Oh, Jiminie, what’s this?” he said, sounding like he was anything but surprised. “Did you prepare yourself for us? That’s so thoughtful.” He paused and there was a small pop! noise and then he set aside a moderately sized anal plug. Jimin groaned. Namjoon’s legs started to get weak. “Mm. So moist for us already. What a good boy you are.” Vante bent back down and showed his appreciation with his tongue, parting Jimin’s cheeks with his hands. Jimin squirmed and choked but kept Namjoon’s cock deep in his throat. Namjoon thought he would come at any moment.

Vante wasn’t done, however. He sat up and pulled out his own cock. Holding Jimin’s hips up off the bed, he lined himself up and plunged his cock into him in one firm thrust, all the way to the hilt. Jimin cried out against Namjoon’s dick and Namjoon grunted. Yes, he wouldn’t last much longer at all like this. Vante pulled all the way out slowly, so slowly, and then popped back in hard.

“Good boy, good boy,” he said in his surprisingly deep voice. “Suck on that cock. Take it all. You’re doing so good.” He did it again, pulling out and thrusting back in. Jimin was squirming and moaning and sucking and Namjoon couldn’t stand it anymore. He jerked forward and came in Jimin’s mouth, immediately pulling out as he choked.

“Oh god, sorry! Sorry!” He stammered. Jimin started to laugh as he wiped his mouth with one hand but Vante cut him off by choosing then to start pounding into him in earnest. Jimin gripped the bed again, crying out in time with the thrusts. Vante stopped abruptly, though, before either of them came, and pulled out.

“Get him some water,” he said to Namjoon, who immediately scrambled for a glass in the bathroom and brought it to him. Jimin sat up and washed out his mouth. He grinned at Namjoon and thanked him. Then Vante was gently wiping Jimin’s face clean of any residual mess with a tissue. Namjoon was surprised by the tenderness there. Vante kissed Jimin’s temple. They were making eye contact, seeming to speak without words again, and they both seemed satisfied with the conclusion of the conversation, whatever it was. Vante turned to Namjoon.

“Come on, Joonie. Time to lie down,” he said. Was Namjoon taking orders from Vante as well now? It seemed so because he laid down with his head on the pillows, grateful for it as his legs were jelly. “Can he do it again?” Vante asked Jimin. Jimin nodded, looking pleased. “Good.” Vante addressed Namjoon. “Jimin isn’t satisfied yet. He’s going to need you to get that fat cock hard again. Okay?” He turned back to Jimin. “What can we do to help him with that, hm?”

Jimin put a finger to his lips, thinking. “Hm...he seemed to like watching.”

“Good idea. Okay. On your hands and knees.” Jimin did as asked, in front of Namjoon. Vante spread Jimin’s legs a little further apart and then pulled apart his ass cheeks. Making sure Namjoon had a clear view, he licked Jimin’s hole, running his tongue over the opening, and then pressing it inside and fucking him with it. Jimin made lovely noises and sunk down to his elbows, arching his back. Fuck, thought Namjoon. These two were really something… He started stroking his own cock as he watched them. Yeah, this would do the trick.

Jimin moaned and whined. “V, I want to come now!” Vante paused his work long enough to reply.

“Not yet, baby. Wait.” Jimin groaned and wiggled in protest. “You can go a little longer. I want to see you sit on Joonie’s cock first.” Jimin swung his head towards Namjoon and looked at him with focused intent.

“Okay. He’s almost ready. Help me out.” Jimin said. He crawled up Namjoon’s body and kissed his way back down it, starting with his neck. He took a moment to pay special attention to Namjoon’s chest and nipples on his way before making his way to his hardening cock. He brought his tongue out again, licking over his shaft. Vante joined him and they both licked him all over his cock and balls until he was fully hard again. It was hard to stay still under the onslaught. He was still sensitive from his first ejaculation. He couldn’t take his eyes off the two of them. It felt so fucking good he could hardly stand it.

“Fuck, you guys…” Namjoon said. Vante pulled back with a chuckle.

“He’s ready.” Jimin agreed and grabbed a bottle of lubricant. He rubbed some over Namjoon’s hard cock and then straddled him, holding it in place as he sank down onto it. Namjoon couldn’t help but to moan. It was such a sight! He slid in easily but Jimin still felt deliciously tight.

“Ah! You feel so good, Joonie!” Jimin said, as he started to move, fucking himself on Namjoon’s cock.

“Faster,” Vante said, and Jimin obliged, bouncing on him. Namjoon put his hands on Jimin’s hips to try to help keep him steady. He watched his dick disappear over and over into Jimin’s tight ass. Jimin’s face looked like he was in heaven as his own cock bounced up and down with him.

Before either of them could finish, Vante’s hands wrapped around Jimin from behind and pressed up against him, slowing his movements. He turned his head and they kissed deeply, Jimin’s chest heaving. Then Vante pushed Jimin down gently towards Namjoon and they kissed as well. Namjoon wanted to start thrusting, being still while inside Jimin was a kind of torture, but before he could, he felt something pressing up against his cock. Jimin gasped against his lips but didn’t seem altogether surprised. It took Namjoon a moment to realize it was a finger, and then two. Vante was stretching Jimin further. Namjoon’s heart was racing as he felt another cock rub against his own as it entered Jimin’s tight hole. Vanted held Jimin, arms around him again, and ever so slowly moved in him. Jimin’s hands clenched on Namjoon’s shoulder, his mouth agape.

Vante whispered in his ear. “I knew you could do it, baby. Look how good you are, taking both our cocks.” Jimin whimpered but didn’t move. Namjoon didn’t dare move now. Vante was in charge. “I’m so proud of you. Here’s your prize.” Vante sucked on Jimin’s earlobe while one of his hands removed Jimin’s cockring. Jimin let out a relieved breath and then Vante started thrusting into him, slowly at first, and then faster. For Namjoon, it was the strangest sensation to have Vante’s slick dick rub against his own in such a tight place. It was all he could do to hang on and be still. Jimin cried out, gripping Namjoon’s shoulder tighter. Vante stroked Jimin’s cock as he pumped into him until he came all over Namjoon’s stomach, clenching around them. Vante was next to finish. Namjoon could feel the extra slickness inside. Vante pulled out carefully but stayed holding Jimin. “A little more. Help him finish,” Vante told him. Jimin moved more slowly now, looking spent, as Namjoon thrust a few more times and came as well.

“Oh my god...oh my god…” was all Namjoon could say as Jimin climbed off of him and collapsed onto his back on the bed. Jimin immediately started giggling. He pointed at Vante.

“I didn’t know you were going to do that!” he said. Vante grinned at him.

“You liked it, though.”

“Hm,” was all Jimin said back, but he was smiling like it was true. Vante went and got damp warm towels for them each to clean themselves off with.

“Is this like, something you two do regularly?” Namjoon asked as he wiped himself off. He still couldn’t quite believe all that had happened.

“No,” Jimin said. “We don’t get the chance. But we can if you want.” He gave Namjoon a little wink. Vante grinned to himself.

“I don’t know if I can keep up,” said Namjoon.

“You did great.” Jimin rolled over to him and gave him a kiss. Then he stayed, laying his head on Namjoon’s shoulder. He whined. “I’m too tired to shower!”

“My head is swimming,” Namjoon said, an arm around Jimin. Vante pulled the blankets down and helped them all get under them.

“Later,” Vante said as he got in bed beside Jimin.

“I’m going to be sore tomorrow because of you,” Jimin said in a sleepy voice.

“I’ll take care of you,” Vante promised. That seemed to satisfy him as he hummed happily against Namjoon’s chest. Vante’s arms went around Jimin from behind and they all closed their eyes.

They did shower together in the morning and Jimin got an appreciatory blowjob from Vante while they did. After, they had breakfast with plenty of aspirin and water. Then the time came for Namjoon to leave. He paused at the door, dressed and ready, unsure about what he should say.

“...Can I see you again?” he asked Jimin, who was dressed in one of the hotel’s fluffy robes. Jimin smiled at him and nodded and reached up and gave him a kiss.

From off to the side Vante said, “Have you ever been to L.A.?” Namjoon had not, but he thought he might enjoy a visit.

[anachilles]

» somewhere in the crowd, there’s you  ♪  julie/luke [ juke ]

If they weren’t already dead Julie swore she would kill them. Luke especially.

Actually no, that wasn’t fair. This time she couldn’t completely blame them for what was admittedly a dumb decision on her own part. But see it from her perspective - the boys hadn’t seen the Mamma Mia movies. They didn’t even know of their existence. That had to be remedied.

TL;DR - The boys are introduced to the Mamma Mia Cinematic Universe. Alex spectates, Julie sings ABBA, Luke falls further in love, and Reggie ends up reliving the horror of high school math class. Also BROT4 couch cuddles.

link to read on AO3: [x]

taglist: @wokealex @blueruby31

If they weren’t already dead Julie swore she would kill them. Luke especially.

Actually, no, that wasn’t fair. This time she couldn’t completely blame them for what was admittedly a dumb decision on her own part.

But see it from her perspective - the boys hadn’t seen the Mamma Mia movies. Didn’t even know of their existence. They had just been finishing up a group jam session when she’d made some off-hand joke about them hitting the big-time and having their music turned into a movie-musical series “like ABBA”. Reggie’s face had lit up and he immediately jumped on it, “Wait, they made a movie out of ABBA music?”

“Multiple movies?!” Alex had cut in, looking disbelieving but nonetheless delightfully intrigued.

Luke snorted with laughter, throwing his hands up as he turned to look at Julie. “That’s it - I know what we’re doing tonight” he exclaimed, and pointed at her “Do you have them on ta-”

He catches himself before he can finish the word ‘tape’, but Julie’s eyes still narrow, her own smile now challenging. The boys really weren’t that bad at picking up the basics of modern technology, but slip-of-the-tongues still happened and Julie loved to tease them about it. Luke most of all just because he always dogged the other two the most about it when they did it. Also, perhaps a little bit, because he was kind of cute when he got all defensive.

“On what, now?”

Luke floundered for a second, and Alex and Reggie traded a look between them. Suddenly though, a lightbulb dinged above his head and his expression turned smug.

“DVD! Do you have them on DVD”

Julie laughed, making what was meant to be a loud ‘buzzer’ sound. “Wrong answer! Not the most up-to-date form of media storage, but nonetheless thank-you for playing”. Her expression softened though when she heard Alex and Reggie hound him a little behind her, “However, we do have them on DVD because my dad likes having physical copies of stuff”.

She was about to leave to go grab them from the house, only the time on her phone caught her attention and her heart sank.

“Hey guys, I can go get them for you but I don’t think I can stay the whole way through both. I’ve got school tomorrow.”

All three boys erupted in protestations, Luke’s notably the loudest of all, though on Alex’s suggestion she conceded to stay for at least the first one, then they’d pick up the second one tomorrow or something. 

Honestly, it hadn’t taken nearly as much convincing as it should have. 

She just really needed to physically be there to witness the three of them watching Meryl Streep jump off a pier to the tune of ‘Dancing Queen’ and Pierce Brosnan absolutely butcher ‘The Winner Takes it All’ for the very first time. Also, talking to them about the movies had made her realise it had been way too long since she’d last watched them herself, and they always made her feel so light and happy. As silly as it may sound, the care-free, sunshiney tone but with genuine moments in them had helped carry her through some really dark days. Since then, they’d always been comforting to return to.

So that’s how she ended up squished on the beat-up old studio couch with three ghost boys from the 90’s, having the absolute pleasure of seeing them react to ‘Mamma Mia’ for the very first time. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, and required Reggie to be sitting with one leg straddled over the arm of the couch and the rest of him pretty much glued to Luke’s side, but they made it work.

Although just as she was getting herself comfy in her spot between Alex and Luke, something niggled at the back of her mind. Something she forgot to do? Maybe? She wracked her brain for a couple of minutes, but her attention quickly and all-too-easily drifted to the screen as the opening chords of ‘Honey, Honey’ sounded, like some sort of siren call, and she couldn’t help but mouth along to the words. She knew them pretty much by heart.

What certainly didn’t help with her cognitive functioning however, is when during ‘Money, Money, Money…’ she felt Luke shift where he was pretty much flush against her side and his arm stretch out behind her neck. His hand settled somewhere near her shoulder; teasingly close but not quite touching it. Her heart rate kicked up a notch, but she was determined to keep her eyes on the screen in front of her, daring not to look his way or even let on that she noticed.

The boys were touchy-feely and generally very physically affectionate with each other, she knew that just from generally being around them these past couple of months. Julie had always found it really sweet and endearing, how unashamedly tactile they were with each other, but at the same time couldn’t help but feel left out as her own friendships with all of them got deeper and she grew closer to them all. Now that they were corporeal, at least to her, suddenly she’d become privy to all that as well.

Now she couldn’t imagine not being able to do stuff like hold their hands during band circles, or not knowing the utter warmth of Alex’s hugs (it was undisputed that he gives the best ones) when he noticed she’d had a tough day at school, or even what it felt like to not have Reggie gleefully grab her hands, or arm, or shoulders when he got super excited about something.

She’d already been falling hard for Luke before when she couldn’t physically feel him under her fingertips. For all intents and purposes wasn’t fully there there, but now? When she’d felt the brush of his body behind her when he’d lean over her shoulder to look at sheet music, or his thigh press up against her leg as they shared a piano stool during their little lyric brainstorming sessions? When they could high-five, lean into each other’s side, playfully shove each other when one thinks the other is being annoying, grab each other’s hands and dance around the room in celebration when they manage to book another gig? All those little moments they could have now added layers to what she already felt.

However, even if she felt something between them, that spark,  and her gut told her Luke possibly felt so too, Julie also couldn’t deny that that kind of affection wasn’t any different to the kind he showed towards Alex and Reggie too. Plus, she didn’t really know how ghosts felt about having relationships, especially with the living, or if Luke would even want to go there. So she tried not to read too much into what kind of felt like Luke pulling that old “arm around shoulder whilst distracted by the movie” move.

So although she never really could forget how close he was, Julie let herself become immersed back in the movie. Her life was generally good, labels and certainty or not, she was happy. The happiness of the movie fed into that. The boys seemed to be having a hoot with it as well, if how much Alex especially was grooving in his seat was any indication.

Julie’s not quite sure what possessed her to say it in the moment, or what she expected to transpire when she did, but when they got to the ‘Super Trouper’ scene coming straight off of the, uh, heaviness of ‘Lay All Your Love on Me’ (during which Luke went weirdly quiet for some reason, prompting Alex and Reggie to share a fleeting look over the top of both his and Julie’s heads) and the opening chords sounded she blurted out 

“Oh, this used to be my karaoke song when I was a kid”. 

Luke’s eyes immediately went wide and she knew she was in trouble. He quickly urged Reggie to grab the remote and pause the movie, ignoring Alex’s soft “Hey, I was watching that!”, before turning his attention fully towards her.

“Well now you have to do the routine; get on up there and show us what you’re made of!”

Julie’s jaw hung open a little and she wasn’t sure whether she could really be annoyed at anyone but herself for practically handing this to him on a silver platter.

“No! I really don’t…” she tried to argue, though his mischievous smile was infectious and damn her lips threatened to twitch into a smile too. “It’s been years! And anyway, I only bust it out for audiences that are deserving of it”.

Luke met her with a challenging gaze. “Bet it’s cause you don’t know the words” he said, turning to Reggie, his tone dripping in antagonism. “Hey, did you hear that the great Julie Molina won’t perform because she doesn’t know all of the words to Super Trouper by ABBA?”. Reggie’s eyebrows shot up and he immediately played along. “Y’know what? I actually did hear that somewhere. Huh…”.

Julie shot a withering look at Alex, a wordless “Can you do anything?” shining in her eyes, but he has the nerve to just shrug (!) with a silent, smiling “I’ll allow it”.

She could’ve got them to drop it if she really had wanted them to, she knew that. Maybe Julie from three months ago would have. Actually, no, that version of herself definitely would have made them drop it; the darkness shrouding her life day-in, day-out smothering any semblance of silly, carefree happiness and convincing her that simply having fun just wasn’t for her.

But she didn’t feel like that anymore.

Julie pulled herself to her feet, eyes fixed with new determination. She crossed the room to the open space, taking a stance mirroring that of the one they’d paused Meryl Streep in and fixed Luke with a playful glare, even though she was addressing Reggie.

“Unpause the movie”.

The performance was one for the history books, if she did say so herself. The boys watched on in amazement as she remembered every word, near enough every step and dance move (the big sleeve shimmy was an interesting one though with sweater sleeves nowhere near dramatic enough to match Donna’s) and personally she thought she sold it.

About halfway through Alex snuck a glance at Luke by his side, and realised karma must be having a slow night given how fast it was paying the other boy back, because he was undeniably staring at Julie with what was clearly pure, open adoration.

“‘Cause somewhere in the crowd, there’s yooooou” she finished with a flourish, heart thumping, and lowered her arm to point at all three of them in turn, but finishing ultimately on Luke even though he was sat in the middle. His face scrunched up with a cheesy smile and he let out a loud whoop of appreciation, kicking off the round of applause before the other boys joined in, Reggie coming in clutch with the standing ovation and everything.

Julie felt breathless but joyful as she flung herself back into her seat, and Luke leaned forward to grab her soda, handing it to her with what looked like contrition.

“I guess I stand corrected, huh?” he said, defeated, but not entirely sorry to be so.

She shrugged, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess you are. It’s a good look on you”.

Luke snorted with laughter and they laughed together for a brief second, an apparent blush rising to sit on his cheeks (Could ghosts blush? How did that even work?).

Before the situation could get weird or questionable though, he turned back towards the movie, but slowly. Like he wasn’t quite ready to leave this moment just yet; like he wanted to stay looking at her just a bit longer. Julie just nudged him and settled back in, trying to go about it in such a way that would implore him to put his arm back around her like he had before.

It didn’t come until the scene where Bill confesses to Sophie that he thinks he’s her father, but eventually that now familiar weight settled behind her head again, setting off a whole herd of butterflies in her stomach.

The first movie came to an end, and things wouldn’t have been awful if she’d just called it a night there and gone to bed. But she was having so much fun and they were all so comfy, and the boys seemed very excited for the prospect of a half-prequel-half-sequel.

“Surely they’ve already used all the good ABBA songs in the first one though, right?” Reggie argued, causing Alex to swing round to look at him, scandalised.

“Are you insinuating that there’s a bad ABBA song?”

While they hashed it out in the background, Luke backing Reggie up just to get a rise out of Alex, Julie acted on impulse and jumped up, running towards the garage window. All the lights in the house were out, meaning her dad was already in bed and everything. As long as she was super quiet sneaking back in and remembered to bypass that squeaky floorboard on the stairs, he never had to know.

“Alright; Here We Go Again - let’s do this”.

Turns out Julie had kind of underestimated how late it was and how long the day had been. She could feel herself getting tired around the ‘Waterloo’ mark, eyelids growing heavier and heavier as she gradually sunk lower and relaxed deeper into the couch. By the time young Donna makes it to the Kalokairi her head had come to rest in the crook Luke’s neck, his flannel soft under her cheek as his cheek leans against the top of her head. Maybe it was a testament to how sleepy she was, but she couldn’t bring herself to move away. The posture felt natural.

She was so comfortable, surrounded by warmth and the soothing hum of the old second-hand TV they’d bought at a garage sale and moved into the garage, she was right on the verge of dozing off… when a realisation crashed into her mind, seemingly out of nowhere.

Julie shot up poker-straight, suddenly very awake. “Oh, crap!”

The three boys startled, most of all Luke when her movement meant he almost fell face-first into the couch cushion.

“What is it?!”

She groaned and fell forward into her hands. “I have a math test tomorrow. And I was going to study for it before bed tonight.”

So that’s how she ends up with Reggie hanging uselessly over her shoulder in the middle of math class, the exchange that came after the realisation still ringing in her ears.

“Hey, hey! It’s fine. Take Reggie - believe it or not, he was good at math” Luke offered up hurriedly.

Reggie himself looked a little stricken. “Yeah, 25 years ago, dude!”.

“Do the rules of math go out-of-date, or…?” Alex teased, though still placed a comforting hand on Julie’s back.

“No, Alex, they don’t - so relax, you’ll be fine, man! You can’t make the situation any worse by trying”

“Don’t give him that challenge, Luke”.

Though admittedly she loved him just for actually turning up and trying, he was staring down at the test with as much confusion as she was. Apparently math had changed over the course of 25 years. They exchange a mutually panicked look. Clearly, neither of them knew shit. Instead, Reggie just runs up to the front of the room and peeps on Mrs Ford’s answer sheet, Julie’s hopeful eyes following him as he dodges around desks and backpacks lying on the floor.

“Are you sure?” she mumbles to him under her breath when he gets back. Apparently not quite low enough though, when the guy next to her turns to give her a funny look, and she has to make a show of furrowing her eyebrows and counting on her fingers, muttering appropriately as she goes.

Julie can feel Flynn’s discerning gaze from across the room and she knows she knows there’s some ghost-like foolery happening. It’s a mess. She’s a mess.

Eventually the bell sounds and signals an end to the ordeal, and Julie takes out her (locked) phone to genuinely thank Reggie for his help all the same.

“Ehhh I’m not sure how much help I was, but you’re welcome” he says, laughter coloured with self-deprecation.

Julie smiles genuinely, and she would’ve nudged him if she wouldn’t have been nudging thin air in public. “Hey, I think we got about three quarters of those answers down and that’s 75% more than I would’ve gotten without you”.

Reggie looks pleased, and stands up a little straighter as he walks alongside her. “Do you mind if I hang out here for a while, by the way?”

Julie’s a little taken aback. “I mean, sure, but why would you want to? It’s just school”.

Reggie shrugs, and there’s something unreadable in his eyes. It’s weird for him; he’s generally such an open book. “I don’t know. I never graduated, we were still going when we… y’know…” he trails off, eyes scanning the halls and the throngs of students laughing and chatting together at their lockers, going about their normal day. “Kind of miss it”.

“Well, you obviously have free reign to look around wherever you want. If you want me to show you anywhere in particular, just let me know. I’m meeting Flynn for lunch now though, so that might not be as fun for you...”

The way he says it makes something ache in Julie’s chest, and she wishes she could give him a hug. With the boys so real now, and so immersed and predominant in her life, it was getting easier and easier to somewhat forget that they were actually dead and had both led and left lives behind. Being reminded of that was starting to hit her that little bit harder.

Reggie nods sincerely, mirroring her slight chuckle. “Thanks, Julie”.

Approaching the cafeteria, Julie sees Flynn in the distance, and is about to put her phone away when she suddenly stops in her tracks, and keeps it held to her face.

“By the way…” she smirks. “If Alex or Luke ask, I scored a 95 and it was all down to you”.

[purplerose244]

Irrational - Chapter 5: I love you too much

HELLOOOOOOO!!! 🤩🤩

Here comes the fifth day of @spacecampweek with what is probably my favorite fic of the bunch! Little song-fic but not really situation in a normal world AU, where Krel is about to confess his feelings in a special way! 💕💕💕

Enjoy!! 😙

Summary: Prom is here at last, a night of entertainment, of happiness, to celebrate changes and the future. What better moment for Krel to finally express feelings that have been hidden for so long? Time to put those guitar lessons to some use...

Read it on the AO3

It was happening. No more holding back, no more thinking rationally about his chances without concluding a thing. Tonight, everything was going to change.

Prom had turned out to be an absolute oxymoron to walk into, between his deep appreciation for parties and his unsettledness at dealing with other people of different temperatures – or ‘cool’, as they liked to call themselves. Everyone was dancing like crazy, that was very good, and everyone was talking loud about nonsense, that was very not good. Adding to the unpleasantries was the music playing onto the stage, something pulsing yet in a hardly dynamic way. If this was another night, he would have liked to teach these people what real music sounded like and propose himself as a DJ, to properly say goodbye to Arcadia Oaks High. Then again, in another delson he would have not worn these kind of flashy clothes – he had lost the chance to call this a normal night the moment he had exited his house wearing a bow.

There was a lot of movement in the middle of the room, and in the middle some familiar faces. He could spot Jim’s questionable moves while Claire was laughing loudly with red cheeks, he could see Toby doing some robot moves while Darci danced along him, he managed to notice Aja spinning all over, between a super smiling Steve and an extremely radiant Eli.

It looked like they were all having fun, so much fun. Krel wasn’t… not yet.

“Hey Clint.”

He almost snorted at the sudden voice.

“Mary, I know you know my name at this point.”

“Whatever Kurt, whatcha up to?” The queen of the bees appeared in front of him, all sparkly in her pink shock dress. “Hank got all handsy, Dean is being shy, and that cute guy from Arcadia Oaks Academy that snuck in is being difficult. I’m up for some juice and it looks like you’re up to something.” And the queen of gossip too as well. She grinned at him, clearly playful. “Could it be you’ll stop being a wuss, at last? That would be nice!” He didn’t deny it. for a second. Big mistake, her eyes immediately widened, like she got struck by absolute knowledge. “Don’t tell me-”

He covered her mouth, realizing midway there that there was no point, the music was so loud it silenced everything. Despite that, he couldn’t bring her to say it. Not yet.

“Perhaps… maybe.”

Mary’s eyes turned into stars. She quickly wiped his hands off her.

“O-M-G, finally, I’ve been waiting for this for so long! Ha, I knew you were going to be the one to do it, Darci owes me five dollars! So does Logan! Pff, why was everyone betting on the space dork anyway… hey, what’s wrong?” She was perceptive. It happened after knowing each other for a couple of years. “Cheer up Kai.”

He laughed again. His chest felt like it was exploding, but in a good way. Seklos and Gaylen, for how long he had postponed what he was about to do, blaming time, work and consequences? It was terrifying in a way that was almost pleasant. Maybe. Perhaps.

“I am fine.” He swallowed, because of course the moment he had scanned the entire party, he had noticed it right away. Or rather, he had noticed a lack of him. “He… he is not here though.”

“He’s probably still bummed that he got into that accounting college his grumpy dad wants him to go but still doesn’t know about the engineering one.” Krel was holding his breath about that one too. Seamus had promised to be roommates in that case. Was it going to be weird if tonight wasn’t going to turn out the way he wanted? Was he going to be awkward around him? “Alright, I can smell burning thoughts, hashtag stopbeinganerd! You’re telling me you’re going to do it and I wanna know how, where and when, and if you try to chicken out now, I swear I’m gonna smash your precious guitar!” She sure knew how to get him riled up.

For the first time since he had come to this decision, Krel smiled, thinking of the backstage, the phases he had prepared into his head. He looked up, shaking his head.

“I believe that would be counterproductive for my plan.”

Mary’s mouth popped open, and if that wasn’t satisfying.

“No.”

“Kleb yes, I am not holding back.”

“That’s gonna be the bomb but you better don’t swoon anyone else, you dang charmer! I have all boy dates tonight and I wanna keep them focused on me only!” She giggled, patting his shoulder. “Just go for it, okay? You’re cool, even when you’re being a nerd.” It was as good of an encouragement as he could get right now. “Just wait until your dorky prince charming arri- Oh this is too perfect.” She was smirking, so much her makeup was scrunching up a little.

Krel didn’t have to turn around to know. He did it anyway.

What a view. This prince really wasn’t above physical appearance as he had first thought when he had arrived in Arcadia, powered by his absolute intellect, rationality, and general annoyance towards social interactions with amoebas. It had taken him a while, a whole while, to accept that even someone like him could get this soft inside.

Give then right time, and the right person.

Seamus was radiant, with the black jacket and the blue tie, with the polished shoes and the pulled back hair. From the relaxed eyes the discussion with his dad must had ended without a punishment, and he was actually smiling. Everything, he was so absolutely everything it made Krel choke up.

Mary was arching an eyebrow, although she most likely know what was going on. The prince swallowed, almost choking again, trying to keep his composure as usual.

Failing.

“… and… and you are absolutely sure…?”

“What in the world, Ken, yes! Yes he is completely head over heels for you, yes if you confess you bet your perfect grades he’s gonna reciprocate, yes the moment he will hear what you’ve prepared for him he might as well take a ring out of his pocket and propose in the middle of the dance room!” He grabbed his shoulders, shaking him a little. “You two are the absolute worst! C-bomb has actual guts to ask Jimmy Jam out, Darci and her Tobypie went for it naturally, even Steve is an idiot sometimes but not at dating and Aj and Eli practically gravitate around him! But you!!” She grabbed his collar, her stellar eyes turning into black holes. “You two are pining messes that I’m absolutely done with! So, I swear, Krel Tarron, if you don’t get on that stage and finally confess, you won’t have to make plans for college because this will be your last dance. Ever.” She could had stopped the threat at his actual name. That alone would have done it. Mary gave him the ‘I’m watching you gesture’, before backing down into the crowd without getting her eyes off.

Krel swallowed, nodded, watching her disappear into the party. Despite the dread of being murdered in cold blood being quite intense and even impressive, it was quickly washed away, as soon as Seamus looked at his direction with those blue eyes of him. There it was, that urge, that need to impress him somehow. It was their thing, the fulcrum of their rivalry that hadn’t stopped, even after years. The need to make the other break their mask of pride and turn it into amazement.

Bold enough, the prince grinned, winking at him. The way the blonde gaped warmed his heart. Was that pink on his cheeks? The lights were too strong and colorful, it was hard to tell.

Was it important? Not really. It was now or never.

Making his way towards the stage was a challenge itself, luckily his dancing skills were not to be ignored and swirling around these random kids was pretty easy and entertaining. The band was playing a pretty energetic movement, there was a keyboard player going absolutely nuts and a drummer doing their best. There was definitely something that could had been done to improve the whole performance – perhaps a few remixes on a DJ board, just saying –, but they were really into it. It almost felt bad going up there and show his own abilities.

Then again, Krel didn’t care.

He had a mission. With that determination in mind he immediately went behind the curtains of the stage, finding familiar locks of blue hair monitoring the situation. Having Douxie as the responsible one was still unusual, even though the ripped off pants and the numerous studs all over his suit were more likely. It probably wasn’t enough for him, he was tapping his foot over and over.

Krel cleared his voice, the older one turned, turning the frown into a smile.

“Krel, how’re you liking the show?” He snorted.

“Fine…” He really couldn’t help himself, it was too easy. “Would be better with some metal rock in it.” The smile was gone. Krel snorted again.

“Really, you’re going to put salt on it like that? Zoe already gives me a hard time because I didn’t get the Ash Dispersal Pattern to play here, don’t you get in the way too!” He turned to the band with a frown, shaking it. “‘Your music might not be a good example for the students’, fuzzbuckets, how old do you think these kids are?? Besides, how is techno a better alternative? Those moppets, I swear…” He muttered something under his breath, a curse most likely, then he sighed. “Alright, I’m fine. Extremely salty, but nothing a drink can solve later. I’m guessing you’re here to ask me something?” Perceptive. All of his friends had to be with him.

“Something like that, yeah…” He breathed in and breathed out, he was absolutely going for it but it didn’t make any of this easier for him. “Alright, I need a favor?”

Douxie smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah? You need a favor from this random guy who got nominated supervisor as cold comfort for not having his band play tonight? Little old me?” He snickered, shaking his head. “Should have thought before you came here to mock, shouldn’t ya?”

“Hisirdoux…”

“Nope, can’t let this one go, I’m out of patience tonight and I need to get at least one gratification. How about you apologize to me? I’ll even help, start with ‘You are the best guitarist I’ve ever known’ and… whoa, wait, what are you doing?” Was it a bluff? Krel was bowing already, but perhaps his brain was messed up tonight. “Dude, how are you actually doing it? What is this favor all about?” Oh. Right. He was the most prideful person on the planet. He had almost forgot.

Krel straightened up, shrugging a little. From the tone of the current song, it seemed that this band was almost done. He peaked from behind the curtain. Seamus was talking with Steve, giggling a little. The prince couldn’t help clenching his hand around the shirt over his chest. Ah, he wanted this, he wanted all of this.

He felt a familiar wave of warm. He turned back to the guitarist, and Douxie was gaping, blinking several times. It was probably clear.

“I want to make an exhibition.” His honey eyes widened.

“… yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“… alright then.” Douxie smiled, pointing at the backstage with his head. “Prepare yourself Lover Boy, I’m announcing you right after this.” If it wasn’t to preserve what was left of his pride, Krel would have hugged him. “Is it DJ Kleb time?”

Krel moved a few steps towards the back. He stopped.

“No,” He turned to the guitarist, smirking. “It is Krel time.”

 ***

 “Alright, give it up for ‘The Raise of the Titans’! Amazing performance you guys, can’t wait to properly see you on Wednesday!” Douxie always looked confident on stage, he was born to have the attention of a public. It was something he and Krel had in common. Right now though, there was only one look the prince wanted all for himself. “Hope you’re having a blast tonight! How’s prom going?” A cheer followed. “That’s great, because we have a special exhibition right now. A special song, for a special someone! Give it up for Krel Tarron!”

The wood under his feet made a sound after every step, it was drowned by the voiced in the crowd. It made him smile thinking how many people were going to be surprised by his presence, his appearance, and especially him appearing with a guitar instead of his beloved keyboard. There was a single stool in the middle of the place, with a microphone already adjusted for his high. He thought that really needed to thank Douxie after this, for everything, as he sat down with the instrument on his lap. He had accorded it while he was in the backstage, but out of habit he did it again, the sound reverberating into his mind. It was like a reality check, a call to the place, as he finally looked up to the public.

Aja looked close to crying, absolutely overjoyed. Mary was smirking so much her cheek looked like it was being pulled. Steve looked absolutely astonished. Toby was grinning impossibly wide. Eli had his glasses shining and a bit smile. Jim had amazed eyes over him. Claire looked ecstatic. Darci was giving him a thumbs up. Everyone was there, everyone.

And then there was him. Him, adorably confused and starstruck.

Krel grinned. I hope you are ready for this, you math blonde.

“This song is for a dear person to me. I have never been able to express my feelings properly before. I have never been particularly good at.” He let another note fill his silence, it made him smile again. “But I will not shy away from it, not anymore. I went through everything with you, high school, my problems, your problems, math and space and everything between,” There was no doubt, not anymore. “I want to go beyond now.”

His mind was peaceful, his body was burning. It felt like he had never been more alive before. His fingers knew what to do, that song was a part of him. He just took a deep breath, and let the music take over.

 I love you too much

To leave without you loving me back

I love you too much

Heaven’s my witness and this is a fact

I know I belong, when I sing this song

There’s love above love and it’s ours

‘cause I love you too much

 It used to be just him, his mind, and his sister. Them against the world, with a mother that wanted her to be proper, with a father that wanted him not to be him. Everything had turned out so badly at first without them, and so not badly after, to the point he had managed to make an actual life away from Cantaloupia. Then, the escape had become home. Then, it he had become the place where he had met the only guy that was ever going to make him feel.

It used to be just him, his mind, and his sister. Now it was him and his sister, friends and family, a home and the world, and so many feelings in between. This was the right place, this was the right time, this was the right guy.

It used to be just him, his mind, and his sister. Now he could hardly imagine himself without the blonde in the picture, the one that could cloud his mind and fill his heart.

 I live for your touch

I whisper your name night after night

I love you too much

There’s only one feeling and I know it’s right

I know I belong, when I sing this song

There’s love above love and it’s ours

‘cause I love you too much

 The two of them weren’t the easiest people to deal with, their lives weren’t the easiest lives to deal with. It had been because of a cruel game of destiny or a lucky shot from faith that they had found each other, Krel at Seamus’ door whenever he felt like he didn’t matter, and Seamus at Krel’s whenever he felt like exploding? Was it bad that in their worst some of their sweetest moments together were born? Was it bad that overwise they might had not become this much of friends?

They were living in a world that was cruel and unforgiving, with people even less likely to welcome them. Krel liked to think that by knowing each other, they had managed to overcome that obstacle, and meet also the people that were fine. That were okay.

They were okay. He was okay.

He had never forgotten that one moment of them, not once.

 Heaven knows your name I’ve been praying

To have you come here by my side

Without you a part of me is missing

Just to make you my own, I will fight

 The song was a tragically familiar one. During the worst of his pining, when he thought he was never going to be good enough for him, when he thought that he didn’t deserve to feel something this pure and breathtaking, this had always been the song. Shannon had taught him the first notes after she had gifted him the guitar after a curious sequence of events, and then Douxie had taken over teaching him all he had needed to know. It was all so familiar now he hardly had to think about how to move, where to put his fingers, if it was too strong or just okay. It was cheesy in a way he never thought he could possibly be, with feelings he never thought he could have.

Aja had always listened from her room, he knew she had even though she had never said it, because before going to sleep the same delson she had always come to hug him. Mary had always told him that playing a love song to cure his – stupid – pained heart seemed a little counterproductive. Maybe she was right. But even if everything was to end tonight, he didn’t care.

He liked love. He loved love. He loved Seamus.

 I know I belong

When I sing this song

There’s love above love and it’s ours

‘cause I love you too much

 Caught by the sudden burst into his chest Krel stood up, almost making his stool fall down. He didn’t care. Right there the crowd’s cheering came to his ears, and despite how much he wanted to scan the place and look for that familiar strawberry blonde mane in between, he forced himself not to. Not yet, not until he said everything, not until he was sure he had delivered everything he had inside. He shushed his mind and let the rest of his body sing.

 I love you too much!

I love you too much

Heaven’s my witness and this is a fact

You live in my soul, your heart is my goal

There’s love above love and it’s mine, ‘cause I love you

There’s love above love and it’s yours, ‘cause I love you

There’s love above love and it’s ours, if you love me…

… as much

 When the last note left his instrument, an urge to cry mixed to an absolute pride took over. He did it, he actually did it. In his mind the song was still echoing, beautifully in the open as it was always supposed to be played. He was drained and so, so happy.

Then, as his head finally allowed in something other than exhaustion, it finally hit him the amount of people that was watching, and how crazy there were going with that applause. It was reverberating all over, he was surprised he noticed it only now. Steve was holding onto Eli and Aja, every single one of them looked close to tears. Mary was shouting something to one of her current dates, pointing at the stage then back at her, probably something like “I know him, he’s my friend, he’s cool because I’m cool, good old Kevin”. Toby was jumping up and down, with Darci laughing and applauding. Jim and Claire were holding onto each other, clapping with fervor. It was good, everything was so good right now.

Finally, Krel allowed himself to look.

Right then, his hear broke.

He wasn’t there. Seamus wasn’t there anymore. No blue tie around, no lock of blonde hair, no red freckles in sight. There was no way this prince couldn’t find him, so…

He left. He didn’t stay for him. He didn’t.

“How about that, huh?? Krel Tarron, everyone!!” Suddenly Douxie was by his side, Krel didn’t look at him. It hurt. He thought it wasn’t going to matter, but it hurt. “He will be all over you for autographs and junk later, let him rest for a moment, and welcome the next exhibition of the night!” His arm was onto his shoulders. Krel didn’t move. He didn’t want to. Then he got a squeeze, and he looked up out of pure instinct. Douxie was still smirking, like his heart hadn’t just gotten smashed against the solid ground of the ballroom. He pointed to the exist and Krel, sighing, obeyed.

He crossed the next couple of performers, who patted his back telling him how good he had been. It didn’t feel like a proud moment anymore. It felt like a waste. The guitar was hanging onto him by the lace, luckily, he would have forgotten it on the stage overwise. Krel sighed, putting the instrument down as soon as he was behind the curtains. He could deal with this.

He didn’t want to, but he could. He just needed some time to-

His hold was callous and warm. The prince knew it so well he almost didn’t have to turn. He did. Seamus had his entire face flushed. He looked outstanding.

“Come with me.” His voice was low, almost fearful, and Krel could do nothing other than follow his lead. He was dragged along as they were staying as far away from the crowd as possible, going for the exit. If anyone had noticed them, Krel was sure Steve or Mary would have taken care of them. As soon as they were out of the room, it was silence. The school looked almost dormant like this, without lights around, the abandoned lockers circling the corridors.

It was going to be one of the last times, in this special place.

There was little time for that kind of nostalgia, as they didn’t walk for long anyway. Seamus seemed in a hurry, he was moving forward without a single word. It almost made the prince fear that he had gone too far and had made him mad. Some more uncharacteristic apologies brushed his lips, at least as a precaution, no matter how weird it was going to be.

They died into his throat as soon as he was pressed against the wall. The echo of the music was gone. There were only those impossible blue eyes getting closer and closer and-

Krel would have laughed. He would have laughed in any other occasion, because this guy was rough and prideful and used to be really bad at dealing with his anger issues. Yet he kissed with the outmost gentleness, like he was genuinely afraid of breaking him, like he was terrified that at any point something was going to wake them up from this dream. Krel wanted to hold onto this dream. He held onto him, hands reaching for his shoulders, then up into his hair. They were not fluffy at all. Again, he would have laughed if he wasn’t this overwhelmed by the fact that this was happening, that Seamus was kissing him and it was happening. The hold onto his mane must had woken up the blonde, as he moved forward with urge, breathing in and taking more.

It was marvelous. It was uncertain and clumsy and they were both really inexperienced at this, and it was marvelous. Slowly the timing was getting clearer for the both of them, because despite pride and their social skills they were instead really good at learning and understanding. The rhythm drowned them both, and it almost made Krel forget he had lungs. It got him there, the urge for air, and he let out almost a strangled noise when he got out of one last kiss.

Seamus was panting just as hard, if not harder, his pupils blown. Krel had never seen him like this, it was a whole new side. He wanted to know it. He really wanted this.

“Sea-”

“Shut it.” Another kiss that made him hum, it was sweeter than before. He almost forgot the words. When he tried to talk again Seamus promptly kissed him again. He completely forgot the words. “You said more than enough, now it’s my turn.” The blonde was smiling of that beautiful smile again. “I’m gonna make every single word count.” His hand went over his hair, caressing his brown locks like they were precious treasures to keep. The urge to cry came back.

Along with another desire, that made Krel come back to his senses and smirk.

Once again, rivalry.

“Aren’t you an overachiever?” Seamus hummed questioning, brushing their noses together. It was too good, the prince giggled. “There are exactly 212 words into my song.” It was too perfect. This wasn’t an out of the world experience, this was the natural consequence of their relationship. Seamus was holding him, and he really didn’t want to be anywhere else.

The blonde seemed taken back by his words, for almost a full second, only to laugh. He brought him even closer, breathing against his lips.

The world disappeared. Prom could wait.

“Better start counting then.” He lunged forward, a quick press closer to a caress. “One,” Another one, deeper but still quick, that made Krel naturally lean back. “Two…” This time it was proper, making him decide that he didn’t really need his mind right now. There was no issue, no invention in standby, no math problem to solve. He could allow himself this. “Three.” He could take every single part of him, as a reward in a way, as a present even more. Without a single remorse Krel laced his arms around his neck, deepening every following kiss.

They stopped counting after nine.

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

You are the absolute best idea I ever had - part 1

Ok so I’m still not sure about doing the chapter thing because it’s been so long since I wrote anything I have no idea how long my inspiration will last (or my fingers for that matter) but let’s go for it. *bites nails nervously*

Thanks as always to @amandaj718 for listening to me ramble about this and convincing me it was a good idea. It’s based on Red, White and Royal Blue, probably fairly loosely in some bits and more in others. We’ll see.

(They’re a similar age here and about Aaron’s age on the show when they met, maybe a bit younger, but it’s not vitally important)

AO3 Link

*******

Robert looked round the room as he dumped his bag on the bed. It did look comfortable he supposed, but that didn’t mask the fact that he didn’t want to be here. The room itself was nothing special, nothing like most people would expect in the home of the British Prime Minister he had no doubt. It was bigger than he expected, no doubt thanks to the Blairs and their renovations back in the day. It wasn’t his home though. He had a flat, a perfectly nice flat in the middle of the city that suited him and yet here he was.

“You’re here then.” He turns to see his Dad standing in the doorway, suit as immaculate as always. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look casual, even when his Mum used to force him into a sweater or polo shirt during the summer.

“You didn’t give me much choice.” He’d expected the call, as soon as he’d woken up to a phone full of news notifications. He supposes it’s not every day the son of one of the most popular Prime Ministers in recent history is caught red handed with the sister of his beloved wife. It didn’t matter that in private their marriage had been over for months, that Chrissie was already with someone else. No, he was the one at fault, all manner of rumours doing the rounds, because they’d kept their separation private so as not to harm his father’s reputation.

What rankled most, as it had most of his life, was that his Dad hadn’t even called himself, not even his closest assistant had been the one to make the call, a lowly staffer was all he got, telling him that ‘the PM thinks it best you move into 10 Downing Street for the foreseeable’.

It wasn’t that he wanted to be front page news, he didn’t go looking for it like some, but ever since his father had swept to power on a promise of reuniting the country, the press had been on him like bees round a honeypot, half the time making up their own gossip without him even leaving his living room. He wasn’t like his brother, the fine upstanding Andy, who still ran the farm that their Dad had grown up on, Andy with the sick daughter who everyone doted on, including Robert, he’s not that terrible a human being. Then there was Vic, the darling of the press, who smiled and waved every time she left the building, who would often take some of her newest creations out to the waiting press gaggle for them to try. Robert was just trying to live his life, but that wasn’t good enough, never had been.

“I need you to come with me tonight. I think it would be a good idea for people to see you doing some good for a change. Diane is already attending a charity event.”

“Where is it?”

“The palace. Be ready for 7.” He turned to leave. “And Robert, I don’t want any silliness, not like last time.”

Honestly, you get slightly merry one time at a Downing Street party and you never hear the end of it. It’s not like he declared war on anyone, he just, well he might’ve broken a vase. It was hideous anyway and deserved to be broken, but apparently it’d been a gift from some country or other that the country needed to trade with. Robert really didn’t think that trade deals depended on a frankly ugly piece of china but as had been pointed out to him many many times he knew nothing about politics and should keep his nose out.

It wasn’t that he was politically ignorant, he voted, he read the news, he researched anything that might be relevant to him or his job, but after years of hearing his parents fighting because his Dad was forever away from home or spending more time sorting out his constituents problems than those in his own family, as far as he was concerned the whole thing was a pantomime. The happy family that had stood on the steps outside, smiling and waving, was nothing but a charade. He and Andy barely spoke, which was fine by him, his Dad could barely stand the sight of him and Diane and Victoria just wanted them all to get along and that meant Robert should shut up and get on with it.

“Robert?” He stops unpacking and turns to see his little sister leaning on the doorframe, hair done up in her usual braid, already coming loose at the front. She’s holding a plate in her hand, his favourite flavour of doughnut sitting proudly on top. He’s missed her. The downside to avoiding his Dad is that he doesn’t see her as much as he likes.

“Hiya trouble.” He pulls her into a hug. “That for me?”

“Thought you might need it. Dad said you were going with him tonight?” She hands him the plate before bouncing on the bed. Sometimes it’s hard to believe she’s a fully fledged adult.

“Not willingly.” He mumbles around his food. “This ’s good.”

“It’s boring is what it is. Why won’t you try some of my other flavours?”

“Because you do not mess with jam doughnuts Vic. Some things have to remain sacred in this world.” He smiles a little at her huff and licks the sugar from his fingers before joining her on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go tonight?”

“I went last time. Besides, it’ll give you the chance to stare at you know who all night.” He groans, regretting once more the late night conversation a few years ago when he was still living at home.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Debatable. Anyway I don’t want to stare at anyone, least of all him.”

“So the words His Royal Hotness didn’t pass your lips?”

“Vodka had passed my lips.”

“So you don’t fancy the second in line to the throne then?” He shakes his head at her, irritated but loving her all the same. She was the only one of them who knew he was bi, well no, he supposed his Dad did even if they’d never actually managed a conversation. He idly wonders what it’d be like to tell everyone what had happened, the see the scales fall from the eyes of the nation about their perfect leader. He’d never do it, would never hurt Vic like that, but sometimes the look on his Dad’s face if he did would comfort him somehow.

“No!” He could admit, if pushed that Aaron was good looking, he wasn’t blind, but so were lots of people.

“Hm.”

“The man never smiles Vic. Last year, at his cousin’s wedding, did you even see him without a scowl?”

“You took notice of him then?” He half heartedly smacks her arm, making her laugh. “I’m glad you’re here, Rob, I missed you.”

“I’ve been here.” It’s lame, because he hasn’t, not really.

“I mean more than a couple of texts and a phone call once a month. How long are you going to be here?”

“Until I’m not grounded anymore.”

“Idiot. I’m going, Adam’s picking me up at 4.” She’s gone before he can even ask who Adam is. It just proves how distant he’s been from her and he feels guilty all over again.

*******

“I meant what I said Robert, best behaviour tonight. I think you’ve made enough headlines with your dalliances for a while, don’t you?” It’s on the tip of his tongue to drag up Rachel, something else that no one knows but family, but he stops himself. It’s not worth the hassle. Hopefully if he gets through tonight he won’t be asked again for a long while.

“Just once it’d be nice if you pretended to have even an ounce of faith in me. You do know Chrissie is right now shacked up with someone else, don’t you? And was before I went anywhere near Rebecca.”

“No one cares about that. Just behave yourself. Is that too much to ask? This isn’t just some party, it’s the Queen and her family. Show some respect.”

Privately he thought that Queen Faith looked rather fun and would be quite at home gossiping over a few glasses of red rather than endlessly shaking hands but he keeps it to himself as they pull up the gates of the palace. He can’t help looking up at the building a little in awe. He’s wouldn’t really class himself as a monarchist, but he doesn’t wish any of them any ill, and he watches all the pomp and ceremony on TV like everyone else. He just doesn’t particularly want to spend the night minding his P’s and Q’s because he’s really not all that good at it.

He takes a deep breath as the car stops and the door is opened. As he watches his Dad step out he can’t help but think his world has really taken a turn in the last 24 hours.

[sastrugie]

john entwistle biography review

ok so first: I didnt really like the biography because I thought it would focus on totally different aspects. John was a musical virtuoso and that hardly ever gets mentioned in the book. But we get exact axccounts on how much money he spent on what day and in which pub he bought which champagne. like wow thanks. The other personal stuff is basic who knowledge you can read in any other Who biography. His autobiographical bits were joy and fun! Maybe the only reason to buy the book in my opinion. He writes totally different than the author...

ANYWAYS: here my fav facts from the book that you probably didnt know before

this is the face of a man who -when his father gave him driving lessons for his 21st birthday as a present- decided driving wasnt really his thing and he spent the money on clothes and parties instead. He never had a drivers license ever and also never desired to have one 

the hospital he was born in, was bombarded and destructed one day after his birth

as a child he was really weak and thin and had basically every disease that existed

his family was poor af

his father left the family early and held contact with his son, but soon disappeared with a new family

his stepdad, Gordon, disliked John alot and would ignore him, hated everything John did or said and he let his bad moods out on Johns mother, which caused John to be very silent and observative around the house so that there wouldnt be any trouble

he did everything to please Queenie (his mom) so that there was no fighting, according to Alison

loved drawing and playing but usually alone since he had no friends apart from their dog

he heard a trumpet solo once from a trad jazz band when he was 6 or so and decided he wanted to learn the trumpet

my fav line of the book probably: “despite his own expectations, he passed the exams to go to grammar school” like same

at school he was bullied from the older boys but soon left alone by them because he would fight back with badass comments 

he applied for the school band for the trumpet but the tallest guy in the year was chosen (he was the 2nd tallest)  which made John mad, but he discovered the french horn

soon he found a friend, mickey brown, at last and he gave him the nickname “ent”

he was so terrible in P.E that he was dismissed with other pupils to play somehwere else, they were called “the hockey misfits” and guess who was among them: Pete Townshend.

yeah as you might know they became besties because they loved music and black humour.

he found himself a gf (alison) and Pete & a school gang (like 4 ppl) and his life seemed to finally get where it should.

his worst subjects were geography and german like wow (im a german geography student lmao)

once they played in a pub and johns stepdad was there and was super angry and gave john a list with his fav pubs and told him “these are the places I never want to hear your fucking music playing”.

after walking home pete decided to switch the guitar and john wanted to become a musician more than ever

Roger found him and John kind of convinced him (it took months apparently) to get Pete into the band and then it all started

he judged the beatles because John Lennons harmonica was “out of tune” in love me do, wow ok you nerd

john started smoking with 20 and was the last one to quit his job for the band and he was against drugs at first (bc he had a “civilized” job) but then decided to give a shit, dyed his hair black, bought cigarettes, smoked dope with pete and did speed too

he wanted to step out of himself and feel good about himself and he was always a fashionnerd so he started buying and trading and selling clothes (he once was dismissed from school bc he wore the school uniform incorrectly)

with 18 or so he was still living at home, had a toy soldier collection and a pet budgie

pete and his college friends made fun of john bc he wasnt a student and still lived at home, although john could have gone to college too and he wanted to, but his stepdad again said no and he had no choice.

he was very awkward and introverted but could open up with his music 

he was really into pop art (esp pop art clothes)

was a pseudo mod bc he only liked the fancy clothes and motown music

with the who he found a purpose in his life and finally could be different than ordinary ppl

hated when people touched his hair, he literally hated it

would fuss much about his hair in general

once after a concert they were starving and the room service was alreday home so they had to look on used plates and food wagons and John found a shrimp and said: “who wants to dine with me tonight?” (idk that really made me laugh)

keith moon was john entwistles soulmate and they were the cutest, most iconic and funniest duo ever end of discussion

his amps would soon be called little manhatten bc he had so many bc he wanted to be loud

he actually went to sing at church once when he was like 24 and the band made fun of him then he stopped

in the late 60s he bought a house with alison in a normal neighbourhood and went walking the dogs on sundays and stuff

but he was a party animal and always the last to go

he was really sensitive and cried often according to Alison but only in front of certain people

he would totally step out of his way to please people

when they played at the monterey pop festival they didnt bring their own amps along and john was furious bc he said the american amps are shit and kit was like “no” and john didnt talk to him for the whole festival until their perfomance was over and they had sounded like shit to tell kit “I TOLD YOU SO” thats how extra he was

when he got money he would spend it bc he was so used to being poor that he thought it wouldnt last long and he had to enjoy it NOW

he was always calm and everyone respected him and kit told a story where he entered the room and roger was at keiths throat and and pete was screaming something and john was sitting in the corner cleaning his nails. thats who energy

liked to dance at parties

his fav drink was rémy cognac with 40% and he would drink like 1 bottle alone everyday in his later years...wow dude

he was also gentlemanTM and once paid taxis for girls from london to brighton after a party

once at a wedding the free drinks were out and John just gave the barkeeper his creditcard and said he will pay for all the drinks of the night for everyone (it wasnt his wedding)

Roger once said: “John made smartass comments that deserved a punch in the face” sounds like him yes

he didnt really care about money and always wanted to pay and never told anyone how much things had cost and brought gifts for everyone

soon that ended in a shopping addiction tho and he bought ridiculous things for ridiculous amounts of money

when the who was inactive he sank into depression :(

held the band together during who by numbers & who are you

wrote and played all the quadrophenia horn parts himself

never lost his passion for art and always drawed alot, said Alison

cried when Christopher was born aww

once he saw their manager in an art museum and how he wanted to buy a painting but couldnt afford it, so John bought it secretly and shipped it to said managers home as a gift

We all know John was a huge collector. His most treasured collection was .. wait for it: teapots.

he tried to save Keith from being arrested once and ended up being arrested too lol

wanted to write a scifi concept album but desorted the idea and gave some songs to the who (905) or Pete

was a good cook apparently

When he gave a hug HE was the one who decided when to let go sdfghjk

hated confrontation and would hire other people to tell someone bad news

he spent so much money on dumb shit like wtf

but didnt really care either

probably the master in picking up and seducing girls

he let his stepdad live in the quarwood mansion when he wasnt there but Gordon was still an asshole wtf

the contact to his real dad was really sporadic

when the who ended, it hit him really hard and he didnt know what to do besides partying and buying stuff/hording stuff

was very insecure and selfconscious in the 80s according to Maxene :(

he actually took pete breaking up the who really personal and was sad 24/7

was that kind of guy that said bad stuff about the who but when you said bad stuff he would try to kill you on spot

with cocaine he felt really confident and still like the 60s/70s rockstar he once was but he didnt understand that these times were over and he needed to move on

sometimes went into random pubs with friends and made jam sessions for the guests

he still was generous and loving until he died and tried to play with other bands but it was not the same

he really liked Kenney and hung out with him more than with his wife at some point lmao

was a total giver and people who worked at quarwood would steal money from him but when someone pointed that out he got angry with that person for even suggesting that

was a real softieee (and a huge nerd)

all his friends said that he was shy at first but once you got to know him he would come totally out of himself, was very funny, loved to tell stories, was very very loyal and would try evertyhing to make you laugh aww

all in all a glorious story with a sad ending and he did destroy himself completely, but lets remember that Pete Townshend described old John still as "wonderful, mature and elegant” so lets cling on to that :)

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

Cycles

Ok, listen, I have no idea what prompted me to write this right now, or for that matter when it happens, except that Kento is gone. Point is, I did write it, and now it’s here, so if anyone wants a little bit of gentle, low-key Ogami Ryo/Daishinji Tetsuo (with sexy bookbinding, back massage, a dash of tastefully-implied NSFW content, and a hint of Rintaro/Mei at the end) then uh...have fun!

Ryo appears in the doorway, and Tetsuo doesn’t even look up from his work. “Shouldn’t you be home with your son?”

“He’s staying at a friend’s for the night so they can work on a project together, I’ll pick him up tomorrow when school lets out.” Uninvited, Ryo steps into the room anyway, pulling over a chair and settling into it backwards, arms folded along the top of the backrest as he watches Tetsuo pull a needle carefully through the signatures of the book he’s rebinding. “What are you fixing today?”

“Agrippa. The Fourth Book of Occult Philosophy.” Tetsuo still hasn’t looked up. He’s too intent on what he’s doing, hands on the book press like it’s a lover to be treated with delicacy instead of a tool. “It’s needed this for some time, but for some reason it just never felt like the moment before.”

“You needed a distraction.”

Tetsuo doesn’t answer.

Ryo doesn’t press. He sits and watches as Tetsuo finishes sewing together signatures, pastes together strips of stiff paper to make a hollow spine, cuts cover boards and soft leather and beautifully marbled endpapers with surgical precision. The workshop smells, not unpleasantly, of the glue Tetsuo makes himself and the coffee he drinks too much of, and the movements of his hands are hypnotic. All this love and care, going into a book that few people will ever even get a glimpse of, let alone handle enough to appreciate his craftsmanship.

When Tetsuo pushes his chair back, leaving behind a book half-bound on the tabletop, it’s gone two in the morning, and he glances back over his shoulder at Ryo and says, “You have a home to go to.”

“Sure, but this was my home before that was.” Ryo gets up from his chair with a wince and stretches. “And that one feels real empty when it’s just me.”

“Get a cat, then,” and Tetsuo reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes but doesn’t seem at all surprised when Ryo catches his wrist. Just, “It’s been a long time.”

“Sure has. Eleven years, maybe? Twelve?”

“Thirteen. Since before you met her.”

“You still mad at me about that?”

“I was never mad at you about that. You were happy.”

No reply, or at least nothing verbal. Ryo doesn’t let go of Tetsuo’s wrist, just looks at it, presses a callused thumb into Tetsuo’s equally callused palm. After a moment he tugs, lightly, and Tetsuo turns in his chair very slightly and allows a kiss pressed to the heel of his hand. His fingers curl to brush Ryo’s cheek. Ryo says, “Feels like everything’s repeating itself,” against his skin. “Gates opening in the sky, another swordsman lost, and you’re Slash again.”

The corner of Tetsuo’s mouth twitches as if it can’t decide whether to go up or down. “All stories have cycles. Ours is just an especially cruel one.”

Ryo lets go of his wrist, rests both hands on his shoulders. “Sure, I guess. You’re still as tense as ever. Need me to beat you up?”

Tetsuo tips his head back and not-quite-grins, gazing just past Ryo’s face to the ceiling. “You make it sound so romantic.”

#

Ryo says, “You actually might be more tense than you were, your back’s fulla lumps.”

“Mnh,” Tetsuo says into the pillow. “I have a stressful job.”

“Yeah, we all do.” Ryo digs his thumbs into a particularly hard knot in one muscle, listening in satisfaction as Tetsuo lets out a grunt. “That’s the Sword of Logos, yeah?”

“Personally, I would be less tense if you hooligans treated your equipment better—ow.”

“Or you could stress out less anyway, we treat our equipment just fine.”

Tetsuo makes an irritated noise that trails off into a much more contented hum as Ryo works the knot out. Just as much like a stray cat as he always was, Ryo thinks as he searches out the next one. Scratches at the drop of a hat, but you pet him right and he starts purring. Or not purring, exactly, there aren’t many noises, but the physical response to the massage seems roughly describable as melting.

Still—he hesitates when he gets to Tetsuo’s waist, where the other man’s overalls have been tugged down far enough to expose his back but no farther. Pet him and he might start purring, but he’s no friendlier to trespass than any other cat, or any other human, for that matter. “So do I get to take these off tonight, or am I crashing in one of the spare bedrooms now I’m done pounding on you?”

Tetsuo looks back at him over one shoulders, gaze lowered just enough to avoid eye contact but not so much that it seems like he’s not looking at Ryo at all. “Rintaro might hear us.”

“Never bothered you before.”

“Before he was 10 and just got worried that one of us was having bad dreams. Now he’s old enough to know exactly what’s going on.”

“And way too polite to say anything about it, what’s your point?”

One of those tiny laughs, barely anything. “Then sure. Take them off. If we’re reliving old times.”

#

They map out the scars on each other’s bodies. Tiny ones on Tetsuo’s hands and arms from sparks thrown by his various tools, larger ones on his stomach and legs that have mostly faded with over a decade away from combat, claw-shaped ones on Ryo’s chest and back and ones from blades on his biceps and ribs and a long, jagged line down his left thigh. That one Tetsuo measures with his tongue, and gets that sly smile that Ryo so rarely gets to see nowadays, and it’s been such a long time since Ryo did this with anyone, let alone him, which apparently makes it his turn to get noisy.

#

So of course Rintaro is already awake when Ryo wanders out to get coffee in the morning, sitting at the kitchen table in the North Base living quarters eating toast with jam and reading a book. Ryo just nods to him, sets about finding two coffee cups, and does his level best not to betray anything when Rintaro says, as innocently as possible, “I haven’t seen you here this early in a while. Bad dreams?”

“We all get bad dreams now.” Ryo finds cups, turns to the coffee maker—and finds that there’s a pot already on. “You don’t drink coffee.”

“There’s enough for both of you.” Rintarou doesn’t look up from his book, which is good, because if he’s smiling at all Ryo might lose it.

Ryo pours two cups and squints at him until something else becomes evident. “You didn’t make coffee for us.”

Rintaro blinks. “What do you—”

“Mei drinks coffee, don’t she?”

Rintaro claps a hand to the side of his neck, not quite concealing the mark Ryo had spotted. “I don’t know what you mean.”

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 55

~*~Sebastian~*~

I stared at her. Stunned. I'm not sure if it's how the conversation went or she wants me and whatever comes with me. Emma is so intentional. Her words carry meaning. She wants to be clear and asks for clarity. This is heaven for my overthinking brain. I’m not stuck wondering what she means nor am I afraid to ask. Because I know she'll answer. Really answer.

"I've got eight years on you, how are you the more mature one?"

"Stabilizing influence and frighteningly direct communication of my second dad."

The expression on her face and deadpanned delivery had me laughing. "I can see that. I'll be the emotionally reactive one and you can be the calming one." Then I remembered. "Although, Eli did tell a story about you laying into some guy in Hawaii at a volleyball game. Ed dumped you in the ocean. I wish there was video."

"There is. You'll have to get dad to send it to you."

Tuesday was a good day. Workout was hard and my abs were already sore, but we'd laughed a lot. Good phone call with mom. The house had come together, she was enjoying some time in the pool, and she'd picked up some piano students. My afternoon was spent in my manager, Emily's, office. Mostly she and I, but a few conference calls. I was about to be busy. The next six weeks I was more gone than home. I was excited about the work. Excited to see friends.

Admittedly, the timing wasn't the greatest, new relationship and all, but I was confident we'd figure it out. This is different. I'd like to say it was because my previous experience is whining and bitching about me being gone so long, knowing I was going to pay for the distance, and trying to front-load my leaving to make it more palatable. While all of those all true, the actual difference is I care. The emotionally unavailable hot and cold thing comes into play here. I put up a wall to block the whining and bitching, not really listening, because it's my job. Bitching at me isn’t going to change anything and I’m not going to feel guilty for doing my job. Well, I do, but it just pisses me off because I shouldn’t.  The expectation of gifts, dinners, or a vacation to make up for being gone made those a lot less fun. And I was never successful at cramming a bunch of stuff in before I left, because my work didn't start when I left. It starts weeks before. I don’t leave for filming for a month, but I’m already prepping: gym reading, watching things, research, and studying the script. I get pretty singularly focused. I don't know any other way. And when pushed I shut down. I don't respond. I brood. And I appear cold. None of this is right. Some just is. Some is my fault. Getting to where I didn't care about her (any of the previous hers) feelings and concerns with me gone was a side effect of shutting down and I regret doing that. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about her feelings. It was feeling ineffectual to do anything about it and my self-protection kicking in. Looking back, saying effectively “deal with it” was incredibly insensitive. Not proud of it.

But now, sitting here looking at my schedule I’m finding places I can find some time for us. We’ll figure it out. I can tell you what won’t happen. Emma won't whine where I block her out. She's not going to emotionally blackmail me for things, which will make me want to give. And she’ll leave me alone to prep, let me bounce things off her, or cook something to remind me to eat. I need all of those. I care how Emma's going to feel about me being gone. I care about what we’ve begun and how we'll keep in touch. I also know that while I'm away she will carry on living the life she had before she had me and be just fine.

Emma had practice tonight and a game tomorrow. It was after eight when she called. She was in a tank top and her hair was wet from her shower. I caught up on her day before leading into mine. "I have good news and bad news."

"OK." Emma drug out the word, wary of my response.

"When I get back from Canada, I've got some time to spend with you. Then I’m gone for the month of July. Fashion show, audition and meetings, comic con, then filming in Rome." Playing off last night’s conversation, I added. "I'm not expecting a bad reaction."

"Well, that's good." Her hand moved toward the screen and I chose to believe she was touching my face. "I'II miss you, but I’m excited for you. And me getting to hear about what you're doing. Living vicariously."

I'd had some time to think. I had a lot of thoughts on plans. This was the soonest.  "You get back Tuesday, doubleheader Wednesday, and I get back late Thursday. What's your weekend look like?"

"Empty. I'll come to you. You'll barely be home if you come here. I can come anytime Friday. I'll be done with work except maybe packing up my room. I can do that whenever."

"Early Friday. Thursday night." I wanted to maximize our time. "I have to do some work."

"I can amuse myself."

"Maybe the shop you liked so much will be having a sale?" I laughed at the way her eyes lit up. "July fourth weekend I'm at a fashion show. Wanna go to Paris?"

"What?" Her face moved closer to the screen. I’d surprised her.

"Not necessarily Paris, but near. The third is the show. Have you been to Paris?"

"Family spent the summer in Europe when we were thirteen. Then Pearl Jam tours. Love Paris."

"Not much more than a long weekend, but museums and I'm sure we can find some romantic Paris shit to do."

"I would love to go to Paris with you."

That was good because I'd already made reservations. "California for about two weeks then straight to Italy for at least that. Depends on how long shooting takes. Hopefully back in time to join you in Chicago. Then nothing until the end of August. Will and I had been talking about a group of us going away. We were waiting for my schedule. What do you think about a group trip and we stay a little longer or go off alone? It would be a beach somewhere."

"You going to rub sunscreen on me?"

"Um yay, part of my volleyball job. Beer bitch and sunscreen applier."

“I’m in."

"End of August is a Disney thing. Labor Day weekend is the Toronto Film Fest. Little stuff in there, nothing big. No idea past then."

She laughed, eyes wide, and moving her head in all directions "It's crazy like a tour schedule. I'm jealous. I love touring."

"I thought about Rome, but the schedule's tight. You wouldn't see me."

"I wasn't trying for an invite. I'll get some of my summer PD hours done so I won't have to worry about them. Make sure I've got time for us."

I leaned back on the couch, "That was easy."

She glared at me. "I thought you weren't expecting a bad reaction?"

I shook my head, "No, no, I wasn't. Just an observation. Thought I might have to talk you into the beach." I held it a second before smiling, "Not really. I do know it’s a lot."

"I will always go to a beach."

"You’re not allowed to play volleyball."

"Did you get the video from dad?"

"About an hour ago." I'd enjoyed it several times. "You're a feisty little thing."

Wednesday was a day of pictures and texts. After the gym, I settled in my extra room to prep. I had my laptop on the table, a stack of books on top of my script, and a huge bottle of water. I took a picture and posted it to Instagram along with one of me with a pencil between my teeth and pulling my hair.

Emma ~ How'd you get a picture of your expression during your last blow job?

Sebastian ~ Hidden camera in bedroom. You should see the other things I have. Coupling Season 1. "The Cupboard of Patrick's Love."

Emma ~ “You really don't have enough blood for both ends of your body, do you?"

Sebastian ~ Very good, Sally.

 Love that she can quote one of my favorite shows.

After lunch, Emma posted a picture of her in the middle of a group hug with her students. "I'll miss my munchkins.”  I sent a sad face emoji.

Then I fell into a hole. I got pulled into my research and reading and the next time I picked up my phone it was one a.m. I need time like this and put my phone on do not disturb. The only thing that comes through is two calls from the same number within a few minutes. Anyone important knows how to reach me. Emma knew, but she didn't. Not even when the Demonic Crickets won their game. She posted several pictures, but I got a much better one in a text. Emma with her back to the camera in her team tank, arm up flexing her bicep, and her looking over her shoulder smiling at me. The gold flecks in her eyes were sparkling and the darker ring made the green more intense.

Emma ~ Hope you're getting a lot done. Internally anyway.  XOXO

Sebastian ~ * 12 hours later * Yeah, I did. I'm hungry. Congrats on the win. Picture is beautiful.

Sebastian ~ You're beautiful

 Her thank you came while I was working out. After a shower, I fell back into my hole until it was time for therapy.

I'd been seeing Celie for a long time. Frequency varied. She had a dark brown bob, glasses, and a round face. At this point, I could read her as well as she could me. If she was looking at me over her glasses, she thought I was full of shit. No words needed. She was about ten years older than me and her style worked for me. It was a great one-sided friendship.

I took my regular spot on the blue couch, "How are you today, Celie?"

Celie smiled. She had the unconditional positive regard thing down. I say that, but she does genuinely like me. Most of the time. I can be a pain in the ass. "I've had a good day and after you I get to go home. You seem to be in a good mood. Tell what's going on with you, Seb."

I was always her last client of the day. Sometimes I needed more than an hour. "I am in a good mood. I met somebody. Last time I saw you I was going to help my parents move. I met Emma there. In a grocery store, if you can believe that."

"Sounds like you can't."

"I asked her to dinner in under fifteen minutes."

She widened her eyes in disbelief. Exactly my point. "Did you? Good for you, Seb. A complete stranger. What led you to ask her out?"

"I was all covered up and she tells me I looked like a rehab patient checking into the clinic up the road. But she was kind to me. A sketchy stranger. She didn’t know who I was until we were outside and I introduced myself. She helped me find the things on my list and we chatted." I put my hands in front of my chest, fingers splayed. "She felt good. I didn't know why, just enough that I knew I wanted to know more.”

“And what do you know now?”

I spent the next several minutes telling Celie the salient points. We’ve been doing this long enough that explaining isn’t necessary. She’ll recognize why things are important. My face hurt from smiling after I was finished talking about Emma. I stopped short of the whole conversation on Sunday.

“Besides the obvious early relationship high, how are you feeling about all this?”

“Good. Happy. Hopeful. The only concerning thing was Saturday I woke up from a night terror, panic attack. I got myself calmed down pretty quick, wrote for a while, and once Emma got up I went for a run.”

“Even with being happy, there’s been quite a bit of emotional activity. I’m pleased that you’ve only woken up once. Much better. What do you suspect triggered you?”

I took a deep breath, “Emma and I wound up in this conversation Sunday afternoon. A couple of my friends at the party had told her I wasn’t acting like I normally do with women, but more like I am with friends. This led to a conversation about my relationship issues. I’m not the same with her. She really doesn’t know that version of me. I think that’s why I had the anxiety. It was the night after the party but before the conversation. First time we’d been around my friends. I think it was not because I’m scared, but because I’m not. Like you said, there’s been a lot of emotional shit going on and I’m good. Remarkably good.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Emma is different. She’s incredibly kind and is . . . gentle. Not weak though. She’s strong.”

Celie shook her head, “When I think of gentle people it’s a combination. They can be painfully truthful, but their manner makes others able to listen. They have a compassion for others.”

“Exactly! I noticed she knew everyone. She talked to everyone and used their name. I asked and she said she looked at their nametags and you never know what someone’s day has been. That might be the first nice thing that’s happened all day. I know it’s a little thing, but it’s her. She’s like that with me. She doesn’t try to talk me out of being anxious or overthinking. She doesn’t think my insecurities are stupid. They’re all just part of me.”

“She accepts you.”

“Right. The more we got to know each other, the more we talked, I felt safe. She doesn’t do those things I usually shut down over. I don’t feel the need to protect myself. She’s very different.”  Celie was looking at me over her glasses. Uh oh. “You’re giving me the look.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Why?  I thought I was doing good. I asked out a stranger and got this amazing woman.”

“Sebastian, as quick as you are to fault yourself, you’re slow to take credit.”

“Take credit?” I didn’t know what she was talking about.

She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “You think this relationship is different because of Emma. You lucked out and met an accepting, kind, gentle person.”

“Yes. No. Both. Emma is different and she makes me different.”

Celie made a loud, jarring beeping noise. This was new.

“Ok, I guess I’m wrong.”

“You are. Not completely. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Any credit. You’ve worked very hard. You’ve read. You’ve journaled. You’ve talked. You’ve done things I’ve asked you to even if you didn’t understand or want to. I’ve seen you grow. To give responsibility for this relationship being different all to Emma is dangerous. What’s going to happen when she falls off this pedestal you’ve put her on? Is that going to be an excuse to shut down and protect yourself? Fall back on old habits.”

I could feel my eyebrows pulled down and the scowl on my face. “So you’re saying this isn’t as good as I think it is.”

“Not at all. I’m saying it’s got as much to do with you as it does her. Previously you would have never asked out a woman you met in a grocery. But that seems to be the furthest you’re going with how you’re different. I do not believe for one second that no other woman you’ve gone out with has been kind and accepting. Or would have been if you would have been able to show them you.  You used to do things to test them. You’d say or do things to see how they’d react. As we’ve talked, you weren’t being real, so you don’t know that their reactions were.”

I nodded then looked down, “I know. Pretty manipulative.”  I felt Celie’s hand on my arm and looked back up. Her face was very soft with a smile.

“Stop, Seb. You need to be proud of yourself. You are doing things differently. You have learned from your past, grown, and come a long way in accepting yourself. Warts and all. You have shown Emma who you are, even the parts you don’t like so much. She can have credit for how she’s responded to you, but you deserve the credit for being brave enough to show her in an honest and authentic way. That allowed her to respond in an equally honest and authentic way.”

I grabbed a tissue from the ever-present box on the table and wiped the wet from my face. Neither the first nor the last time I’d cry in this room.

"If you had met her even a year ago, with her exactly as she is now, this relationship would be very different."

"The wedding."

"Excuse me?"

Yeah, non sequitur. "I was supposed to go to a friend’s wedding last summer but didn't because there was a change in my shooting schedule. Emma was at the wedding. You're right. Had I met her then," I shook my head. “I wouldn't have been ready for her and now could have never happened."

Celie shrugged, "Probably not."

I sniffed and wiped my eyes, "How do I get her off this pedestal I’ve put her on?"

"You seem pretty smitten. Maybe not take her off, just lower it a little." I laughed and she went on. "What you do is own your part. You have been making choices to improve yourself. You have been making choices to go out of your comfort zone. And you have been making choices to let her know you. Emma's been making similar choices to be with you. I'm sure you know what she's come through to be where she is. It seems like you complement each other. Recognize this is both of you waking up and choosing to be with each other. Talk and negotiate what that means. Tell her what you want. And when you're not talking you listen. Listen to what she needs from you. The most important for you is to keep processing the feelings with her. She's the only one who can help those make a picture. And you need to give her the same gift. She has things she’s not so proud of and afraid for you to know about her. We all do. You will need to accept her and treat her with gentle kindness she gives you.”

I was crying again. "She told me. I told her she was different than the others. She asked if maybe I was different."

Celie snickered, "I like her."

"You would. She speaks therapy."

"I want to be very clear, Seb. She sounds wonderful and she may make you better. You sound wonderful and I bet you make her better too. That’s how it should work in a relationship. You help each other along. It takes two people with self-awareness making choices to do what it takes. You both have to choose growth, honestly, humility, vulnerability, and sacrifice. I hear you holding up your end. I’ve not heard you do this before. And while she may be the right woman, you've become the right man. Please, please, do not underestimate how much work you've put in to become the right man for another person.”

"I want to go home and cry for an hour or so."

"I wish Emma was here for you."

I shook my head with a grimace, "It's going to be ugly until I get it out."

"Yes. I think Emma would want to be there to hold you and you'd find more acceptance and comfort in that than you can imagine."

At home, I grabbed a beer, sank down in my favorite chair, and cried. I felt everything all at once but fought to untangle the threads. Sad was remnants of the past and dissipated quickly. Its friends regret and shame fought a little harder to stick around, but they were toxic and needed to go. Pride and relief were together too. Celie was right. I had worked hard. An infinite number of hours had gone into figuring myself out. There have been so many times I thought I'd be stuck forever. Sometime in the last two years that I've been without a girlfriend, all the work must have come together. In the last two years I've been filming almost nonstop. Five movies have come out. Two of which were Marvel circuses. It's like all the therapy (and the work that goes with it) knitted me back together while I was busy filming and living my life. Celie had told me to trust the process. I couldn't rush it or make changes happen before it was time. Patience. I am inherently impatient. Pride was for the work. Relief was for seeing results. Finally.

Next was happy. I’m in a good place. I'm excited about the movie I’m making. I have supportive, fun friends, and a loving family. I don't need a girlfriend to be happy, but one does bring everything together. I like having a person who is mine. Mine in the sense of us experiencing life together. The good and bad. I like that. I want that. And now I have it. The beginnings of it, anyway.

After I pulled my shit together, I wanted to talk to Emma. I wanted support. Maybe not support, but I felt raw. I wanted someone to soothe the raw nerves, to sit with me while all this new stuff integrated. I wish she was here. What I needed was a hug.

Sebastian ~ Can you talk?

I don't like that I asked. It feels insecure and I have zero reasons to feel insecure. I quickly decided to cut myself some slack.

My phone rang and I connected to FaceTime. "Hey." Her bright smile and obvious happiness to see me did wonders to soothe those raw nerves.

Emma's face went from a smile to wide-eyed concern. "Sebastian, what’s wrong? You look like you've been crying. What happened?" Before I could answer, she jumped to a correct conclusion. "You had therapy. Good, bad, or cathartic tears?"

"Mostly the last one."

Her hand went to her chest, "Ok." She picked up what I assumed was her iPad and crossed to the chair in her bedroom. I could see her pull her knees up when she put her feet on the ottoman. She rested the iPad on her knees.

"Mostly a repeat of what we talked about Sunday. Celie said I wasn't giving myself enough credit for the work I've done. My growth."

As Emma had alluded to the same thing, I expected a smile or some acknowledgment of her asking if I was different. Instead, I got, "What do you think?"

"I think I still need to work on not being so hard on myself." I smiled because that statement was me still being hard on myself. "When Celie pointed out how I've changed I could see it and was proud of myself. I can’t see it on my own yet, but I'll get there. I never thought anyone would get past my walls. It wasn't someone getting in, it was me getting out." More goddamned tears.

Emma reached out and touched the screen. "I‘m so happy for you. Proud of you too."

Her words felt like a hug. Close enough for now. "Thank you."

"I know you're a grown man, but I wish I was there. Crying alone sucks."

"Oh," I laughed a little, "the chances of us having a messy reunion are high."

"Why?"

"A lot of you and I talk today. I know me, it's gonna hit me when I see you."

"I should warn you. I have a strict policy that nobody cries alone in my presence."

I smiled at her exaggerated southern accent with the "Steel Magnolias" quote. "See ... gonna be messy."

[willmelon]

i don’t usually do this but i feel Compelled to do a liveblog/review of Mouth Dreams so here goes

Please don’t read this if you haven’t heard the album yet as it’ll spoil Everything

(i’ll admit the idea came to me After i listened to Just a Baby so these first ones are gonna be relistened reviews)

first we got Yahoo. what can i say about this song? neil starts off Strong with incredibly sustained notes and just one phrase, in typical neil style. and he makes it work in so many different ways! honestly didn’t expect myself to get so attached so fast but that’s just the way his magic works ig. when the hoooooooos harmonise it almost brings tears to the eyes. i would love to see a group of choristers singing this with another guy on an electric keyboard. what a cold open. 9/10

of course then we go on to the titular track, the dimension of sound, the dimension of imagination, the dimension of doors. rod serling narrates the intro in his traditional monotone as the warbling twilight zone theme plays in the background. i tell ya i was actually Screaming when the track finished and he dropped the title! it may not be a song per se, sort of like Blockbuster from Mouth Moods, a ‘filler track’ if you will, but the effort in those fifty seconds cannot be ignored. it just goes to show once again how Good he is at what he does. 6.5/10

oh lawd, my favourite so far, Spongerock. reading the title i had absolutely No idea what to expect. the goofy goober song from the movie? winner takes all from band geeks? i was pleasantly surprised to find myself tapping out queen’s distinctive boom boom CLAP as the song progressed, and i was in complete Hysterics the whole way through, chanting along with the kids as the pirate encouraged me to sing louder. it’s such a beautiful fit the way they mesh together, and it’s one of those mashups that you listen to and think ‘why has nobody done this before?’ but neil is on a higher plane of existence than us and Knows where it’s at. you’re never the same after you’ve listened to Spongerock. 7.5/10

Just a Baby, where i stopped to begin this thing, is a melancholy song, which i’m not usually a fan of. i admit i don’t know the original song so i kept quiet until the last chorus or two. it’s the yang to the yin of Wow Wow from Moods, another sentence-mixer that was like a full Bop and barely gave you time to catch your breath. in Just a Baby you begin to empathise with the singer as he regales confusing times of his constant youth, including the time his mother (a train) shot a man in cold blood. it’s a powerful ballad, and it’s got a tasteful amount of justin bieber adding backing vocals to the chorus. i may have to deduct a few points cos the lyrics are gonna be hard af to remember. 7/10

ok next up we got Superkiller. this one’s totally blind! i’m. ehhhhh okay not diggin this one very much. ok that say something once line being repeated was comedy gold but talking heads are just like. kinda tuneless tbh. i’m glad he’s trying to lassoo it together with u can’t touch this but it’s kinda falling short tbh. i wouldn’t skip it but it’s not as memorable as the previous ones. 5/10

starting Get Happy. i’m not gonna lie i think i Know what this is, there are only so many options after all. i predict it’s a mix of “get dancin’” by disco-tex and the sex-o-lettes and “happy” by bahrrel williams, and i really hope that ain’t the case cos i Love the first one but despise the latter. oh well let’s see if he can pull it off. sounds like village green by the kinks so far lol uhhhh i have no idea what to make of this. okay i feel like i’m gonna like this after all. hey it’s got memorable lyrics at least! is it gonna get faster? or just more bassy? yknow maybe i was too critical at the start, but i had no idea what to expect. this is a feel-good pop song and it’s definitely making me feel happier than i was when i was listening to Superkiller. 7/10

Ribs? wtf do i expect from a song called Ribs lmao another song i’ve never heard of IH IT’S EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE TH WORLD OH YEEEEEEEEES omg i Love this song i sing it to myself when i’m walkin my dog cos his little paws click-clack on the pavement to the exact rhythm of the song omg i’m in Love! another one with odd lyrics but i think after a Lot of repeat listening i’ll be able to properly croon along to this one omg! it reminds me of Best from Mouth Silence in that they’re both about products, only instead of folgers in your cup it’s about chili’s baby back ribs omg neil you’re Perfect! how come more advertisers haven’t contacted you for a product placement deal?? 7.5/10

next we got My Mouth. welcome to? who knows let’s hit play. ooooh minor key. is this a real song? it sounds like oney singing a cover of something. oh That’s the gimmick? 2:30 long i hope there’s something else tbh cos otherwise it’s gonna get pretty thin pretty fast. mm not a fan. the weakest so far imo especially after Ribs blew me away. definitely a bad dream. 3.5/10

Aerolong don’t fail me now! okay see This is how you do a mashup. I DON’T MISS YOU BABAY AND I DO WANNA MISS A THING THAT’S GOLD!! this is just a song about saying bye to your ex lmao i love it. wish it was longer though. 6/10

Sleepin’ here we go! ok in the youtube version the first half of this song is just silence so that wasn’t fun. gee this one’s only moderately better than My Mouth i’m feeling very shortchanged. 4/10

what to expect from Aamoorree? hopefully this one’s another jam but...okay i’m likin this one. it’s Fun and isn’t trying too hard! it’s just a drunk dean martin singing about pizza pie on karaoke night, what more could you ask for lol. 6/10

Where Is My Mom? by the p-p-p-pooo-oo-ooo-oooool of course. i don’t recognise the other song but it’s decent. i’ve listened to slowed-down songs before (the sludgefest chipmunks albums lately) and this one’s kinda ok. not a fan of the ending but points for effort ig. 5.5/10

Fredhammer ay? might there be some peter gabriel in there? undoubtedly. yup there it is lol ok now bring in the flintstones? oh ig that’s fred durst? mm not totally feeling it so far but censoring he** was funny lmao HEY THERE’S SEINFELD i’m wheezin that was a good way to end a song, well done neil. 6.5/10

here goes Limp Wicket. i’m on the edge of my seat. and Again i’m disappointed. is this a bunch of ewoks singing some kind of star wars song? or is it jarjar? either way this is Not a good song. it probably wasn’t before he mashed it up but this wasn’t an improvement. bringing in Fredhammer didn’t help this song much at all, in fact i think it brought both songs down actually. last one was a 7/10 but i Have to dock it points now that it’s a two-parter. as for this one? i’m being generous cos the limp bizkit song was good. 1/10

Cannibals runs for 4 minutes. PLEASE don’t let this be a repeat of the last one. i get that miners can’t dig up gold every time but don’t just show up with a bunch of rocks and iron pyrites yknow i’m just gonna start. i don’t want to be angry at this album. i recognise that sound in the bg! from a cyriak vid i think. thx comin in. loooooooong drone. ugh UGH there are Too many lucid dreams on this album. starting to regret liveblogging this cos i Loved the other three mouth albums. this one’s just falling flat again and again. 3/10

here comes The Outsiders. there is NOTHING to say about this. 1.5/10

come on Johnny. okay that got a laugh out of me, not many songs start with a booing crowd like that, is that meta? wouldn’t put it past him tbh. ah i’ll give it a 5/10, for a kinda filler song it wasn’t too bad.

Closerflies, this has gotta be gold. PLEASE. intro’s goin on for a little too long...mm having never heard the original version of closer i gotta admit i thought it’d be faster, like the one used in Rollercloser in Silence. this version seems very sloppy and sluggish, especially the bassline. 3/10

Nightmovin’ i’m not expecting much OH good intro oh YES now here we go. this is a good one, it’s got clear lyrics and a catchy tune, i’m liking this one more and more by the second. cuts off weird but it’s going into the next one. so i’m gonna leave the rating out of this one and see how it is after the next one.

Whitehouse i’m holding my breath. mm it’s Good but not great tbh. criminal that the last one was half as long as this one. think i’m gonna give both of these songs a 5/10 i doubt they’ll be anyone’s favourites. the title is a nice little joke too i respect that.

Wah! what’s neil’s obsession with using wannabe as a source lmao! it’s another decent one but nothing memorable again. 5/10

Pee Wee Inc i’m expecting big things. good intro I’M IN LOVE okay this is Much better than i imagined it’d be. did he use the radio edit of feel good inc? this is a heck of a way to bring it back to the gold stuff and i wouldn’t be surprised if this is what neil’s head sounds like all the time. 7/10

on to 10,000 Spoons. not sure what to expect from the title. okay this is a Nice one i think. throwback to the likes of Just a Baby with the two songs and the sentence mixing and it’s Good. and really 10,000 spoons is So ironic anyway, don’t you think? 7/10

oh another song called Mouth Dreams? an extro? that was Weird lol ok the intro i wasn’t too keen on, def not as much as the intro, but i got to appreciate it as it went on. like Rlly appreciate it i was beginning to reflect on what a journey i’d been through tonight, especially writing it all down. felt very poetic. and then WHAM, out of nowhere, after being gone for 23 songs, all-star came Back and How! gotta give this one a 7.5/10

keep the train rolling Brithoven! i can hear faint bits of instruments in britney’s song in the back of her audio which sound like a mistake but knowing neil.......yah lmao. this song’s kinda like Promenade (Satellite Pictures at an Exhibition) from Mouth Sounds, i liked what i heard. very nice. 6.5/10

the final song. we’re gonna be hit one more time for Ain’t! and i have NO idea what i’m in for! in the hall of the mountain king eh? is this like a way of looping around to the first song of the first album with classical music? ok the snoring’s a nod to Bustin i’m sure lmao funny anyway. i thought i heard a hey now in there but i must be going nuts. wouldn’t call it a grand finale but it is what it is. 5/10

now the question that must be asked - was Mouth Dreams trying to make a point? was there a reasons so many songs were of lower-quality than previous albums? perhaps it’s just a matter of taste, or perhaps it’s as rod said back on track two, that this album is a doorway into another dimension, and the further you progress, the more mind-rattling, brain-melting concepts you come across. the album gets an average of 5.5 which is kinda disappointing. don’t think i’ll be listening to the whole thing again. thanks for reading!

[sharkfish]

ps i loved this one

(rereading bookmarks edition)

i’ve been rereading stories from my bookmarks as a comfort thing. i’m getting real deep in there to stuff i haven’t (re)read for years, and damn do i have good taste. the ones i’ve read recently that you should, too: 

(under the cut so i’m not that asshole that makes you scroll past an endless post) 

A Change of Scene by SurlyCat

When Dean goes over to see his Dom on Christmas Eve, he isn't expecting Cas to play naughty Santa, and neither of them is expecting how it turns out for them.

ooooomg fuck me up with that sex to lovers thing featuring bdsm. yessssss 

A Room of His Own (or not) by Valinde (Valyria)

Dean took a deep breath and reassessed the situation. He was in bed with a guy, sure, and technically they were snuggling, but it was Cas. The guy had absolutely no reference on what was appropriate physical contact between two dudes sharing a bed in the... normal, completely unsexy, no-funny-business, way.

cas is fallen, dean is confused (what else is new), A+ cuddling. that’s the fic. 

Boys On Film by LoversAntiquities @tragidean�� 

But maybe that’s what it is—maybe Castiel’s finally realized something Dean is too chicken to admit, despite the fact he’s been jerking off to the idea of Castiel fucking him for the past few weeks. The idea warms him as much as it pains him to think about, his friend not being able to talk to him about something like that. That has to be it—it’s the only explanation. Castiel likes him.

“Or maybe he knows you do cam shows.”

Dean chokes on his burger.

idk what to say, i love a good sex worker fic and here you go. @tragidean​ is always here with that first-class content. 

Castiel's Angel by Valinde (Valyria) @valinde​

The angel took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He was fidgeting Cas noticed. Usually he was so bizarrely at ease in his human form, lounging around and tossing winks and smirks at anyone with a pulse. That more than anything had Cas straightening on his stool and wishing he was a little less tipsy.

“Ineedyoutogroommywings,” Dean muttered in one long, almost unintelligible, string. He was blushing.

all my fellow wing hos should flock* to this fic. i also love me a good switcharoo with angel dean (and hunter cas, as this is an alternate canon universe). and dean gets all claim-y, which is also my jam. 

*this was unintentional but a pretty funny joke 

For Science! by pm_lo 

Selected transcripts and supporting materials from Dr. Castiel Williams and Dean Winchester’s seminal study on physiological and psychological sexual response by gender designation.

i believe this was the first abo fic i added to my bookmarks. story time: many, many moons ago, i kept track of my reading list. i was doing that “50 books a year” thing so it was mostly for tracking that, but i had another tab for fics, because i read few enough that i could track them. i rated things and sometimes left notes, and by all the abo ones i was like “don’t tell anyone i read this.” yes, i shamed myself for liking abo. it was a dark time in my life.

anyway, then i read this, and was like, all right i can see what’s going on here.

this is a great fic for multiple reasons, and the format is one. it’s written as dialogue-only transcripts from their experiment. it’s hard to make that kind of format work, but pm_lo ain’t fucking around. 

Just a Stranger On the Bus by Amelia_Clark 

December 31 9:32 PM When Castiel boards the bus in KC, they think it’s empty at first—but when they toss their backpack onto an aisle seat and climb in after it, there’s a muffled yelp from the dimness at the back of the bus. They turn in time to see a man in a faded Carharrt jacket, sitting up and yawning as he rubs sleep out of his eyes. The man’s hair is greasy and matted down on one side, and there’s drool on the side of his face; nonetheless, he’s ridiculously good-looking.

“Hey man,” he says. Castiel does not correct him. “This can’t be Chicago.”

the non-binary tag, just like the trans tags in general, are a house half-built and left to rot in the rain. even if that wasn’t true, this series is goddamn amazing. also there’s rimming. also there’s a line in there that said something like “they don’t dislike their body, it just never felt like theirs” and i had a lightbulb moment irt my own experience. did dean ever wear carharrt in the actual series? if not, mistakes have been made. 

Just Turn Around and Go by PorcupineGirl @porcupine-girl​

Dean should be happy. His best friend and housemate of five years, Castiel, is moving out to live with his boyfriend, Balthazar. Dean's career is going great, so he can easily afford the house on his own now. This is just growing up, moving forward to the next phase of their lives.

It would be awesome, if he weren't in love with Cas.

Well, here we go, he thinks as he opens the refrigerator and digs around for sandwich supplies. First day of the rest of your life. Time to move the fuck on. As he slams his meat and mayo and pickles down on the counter, he considers adding the bottle of whiskey he knows is hiding in the cabinet, but decides that he has enough self-respect to wait 'til five. Then he'll get fucking blackout drunk. Yep. Awesome.

y’all, do i even have to say anything about this? roommates to friends to a pathetic amount of pining without saying shit to disgustingly in love. also i think i cried, but i’ve been in tears so many times in the last week, who’s to say. 

Plus One by ceeainthereforthat @ceeainthereforthat​ 

Castiel Novak might have to attend three weddings in two months, but he’s not about to let his brother play matchmaker. His family’s Internet streaming company is too important to let a relationship steal his time, but he knows exactly what to do–hire someone to pretend to be his boyfriend.

Dean Winchester has worked five-star hospitality long enough to know how to fit in with Castiel’s crowd, and this job could score him the connections to make his acting career take off. It’s a business deal, no matter how they’re drawn to each other. When the lines of their contract start to blur into real feelings, can they withstand Castiel’s family and jealous fans working to split them up?

there are a lot of great fake dating stories out there, but this one takes the cake (or, at least, a slice of it). also, i cried a lot rereading this, both “ohhh god i love their love” tears and also “ohhhh god this hurts so bad” tears. 

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche) 

Despite their age gap and differing social circles, Castiel has struck up a warm friendship with Mary Winchester, a wealthy widowed socialite. When Castiel needs a place to stay, Mary invites him into her house, where there’s loads of spare room. Castiel’s aware that they make an odd pair, but he doesn’t fully realize how things look to outsiders, especially to Mary’s eldest son. All Dean Winchester sees is that his mom has apparently hooked up with a hot young guy (who is totally Dean’s type) and that makes things… weird.

they’re both oblivious idiots in love, cas is grey-ace, dean’s a total dork, it’s all just very lovely (and frustrating in the way oblivious idiots can be!!!). 

PS - annie d is writing marvel fic lately and i’m sure it’s fantastic if you’re into that kind of thing. 

Support Your Local Gay Beekeeper by Powerfulweak

It’s not like Dean goes on Grindr very often, just when he’s bored and alone. The blue-eyed guy's profile reads "Beekeeper, 29, 5'10, Single, I watch the bees." Dean is intrigued. He has to send a message.

this is a series that starts with some great phone sex and then goes on to very, very awkward sex injuries. a goddamn cringefest that had me in complete horror imagining it. but it’s fun! they persevere! people so rarely write about Sex Going Wrong and i love @powerfulweak​ for taking the bullet for us on that one. 

Take Me Home Tonight by Persephoneshadow @persephoneshadow​

“Come on, we’re finding you someone to…engage with sexually or whatever,” Dean explains, chancing another swig of beer before going on. “Anyone in this bar, no limits, who would you would be your top choice to bang?” “Well, you, ideally.” Dean spits out some beer before collapsing in on himself, legitimately choking this time. “Excuse me?!” ---- Or the one where Cas wants to have sex and Dean is there to help.

your classic denialist “i’ll be your wingman” turning to “actually imagining someone else touching you makes me want to punch someone.” which is dumb, because cas actually wanted dean all along. 

Words with Friends by betts

"Dean Winchester is as straight as an arrow. He’s a lady’s man of epic proportions: the king of the one night stand, the messiah of the friends with benefits paradigm, the emperor of perpetual bachelorhood.

Except, apparently, when it comes to his best friend, Castiel Novak."

***

Wherein a longstanding acquaintanceship leads to friendship, then best friendship, then sexting, then dirty talk, then mutual masturbation, then, inevitably, fucking.

look i think you’re always in good hands with @bettsfic​. but this one has some good sexting and phone sex right at the start, which i’m totally into, and then it gets even better. cas is a lil bossy, by which i meant to say he’s the kind of bdsm geek who has equipment installed in his bedroom for sex purposes. 

You're The Only Stranger I Need by lyndsie_l

When Castiel receives a text from a stranger, he finds himself engaging in conversations daily. He's drawn to the outgoing college student and longs to interact with the other man as often as he can. Slowly, he finds himself falling in love with the other and can't imagine ever meeting a more beautiful person.

The only problem?

He's never actually met this other man.

be still my heart! a long distance/texting/phone sex thing! i want to read it again right this second. cas is such a cool nerd, dean is a brat, it’s a good time all around. 

if you enjoy these fics (and you should), please give the writer some love via kudos and/or comments. <3 

ps - as always, if i didn’t tag the writer and you know their tumblr, please tag in the comments. i don’t think there’s a writer alive who wouldn’t be happy to be on a rec list. :) 

[taetaespeaches]

You opening request? If yes can you make songfic based on taylor swift you belong with me? The member can be jimin or jin, you pick it. Thanks!!😁

“Dolly Parton’s a real jerk, huh?”

Jin x Reader

Word count: 2.7K

a/n: So this is very loosely based on “You Belong With Me”. It mostly just uses the general idea of the song and the whole “Hey isn’t this easy,” line. I hope you all enjoy! Thank you for reading :) 

The rain was getting heavier, drops increasing in amount and weight as they drummed against the car roof and windows. Pulling up behind the Big Hit dance studios, you opened up your messages, tapping on the most recent conversation, finding your way to the call option. You put the phone on speaker, the ring back tone echoing throughout your car as you leaned over the center console to rid the passenger seat of your junk- various papers, a few food wrappers, your gym clothes, and a water bottle.

“Jesus, I need to clean this,” you mumbled to yourself, “I’m disgus–”

“Hello?” Jin’s voice cut you and the ring back tone off.

“Hey, I’m here,” you replied happily. “Out back.”

“Ok, we’re packing up now,” Jin spoke into the phone, seemingly distracted.Sitting back in the driver’s seat, you looked out the front window, focusing on the patter of raindrops against the glass. “Yeah, cool, I’ll be here,” you said, pushing down on the windshield wiper switch, sending the blades into a single swipe. “Wanna get some snacks bef–” Jin abruptly hung up the phone, making you flinch at the sudden silence. Scrunching your face in confusion, you began to think that maybe tonight you wouldn’t be getting your fun, carefree best friend.

After a few minutes went by, the doors of the building opened up, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin pouring out, all hurriedly headed towards the same vehicle to escape the rain as Jin, sporting a hoodie with the hood up, hung behind them, breaking away to head to you. The others waved to you, flashing small apologetic smiles, you waving back tentatively. What the fuck happened?

When Jin opened up your backdoor, a water bottle that was lodged against the backdoor rolled out, bouncing on the wet street near his feet. “Jesus, you really need to clean this,” Jin told you with a huff, throwing his practice bag across your seats before bending over to grab the water bottle, tossing it onto your car floor, pushing your door shut. You pouted as he opened the passenger side door, hopping inside the vehicle, grabbing the seatbelt, pulling it across his body, clicking it into place, all while not sparing you a single glance.

“Um, hi?” You questioned, your tone laced with confusion and sass. Jin slowly turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows at your expression and tone.The gears visibly turned in Jin’s head, as he strategically decided his next move.

“Hi love,” he smiled, though it didn’t quite meet his eyes, which you took notice of.

“Hi love?” You mocked. “You come into my car clearly in a bad mood, criticize my cleanliness, and then toss me a hi love?” You were teasing, your tone dripping in dramatics, but you were studying his features as he let out a light chuckle. “Ok, what’s up?” Jin’s eyebrows pulled together as he looked at you, avoiding meeting your eyes. You cocked your head as you observed him. “You seem off,” you frowned, “What’s wrong?”

Shaking his head slightly, Jin looked ahead, watching the raindrops trickle onto the windshield, streaming down the glass, collecting into larger drops of water.

“Just dance practice,” he sighed, “Stressed me out.”

Leaning forward, you tried to catch his gaze. “Nothing else?” When Jin responded with a little head shake, you hummed. “You know what this calls for?” Your best friend looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Sad Bitch Hours.”

Reaching for your phone, Jin let out a breathy chuckle. “What bops do you have in store for us tonight?”

“Oh, you’ll find out, just you wait,” you said as you looked over your shoulder out the window to check for oncoming traffic before pulling onto the street. As “You Make Loving Fun” by Fleetwood Mac filled the car, a smile spread across Jin’s face. You snuck a glance at him, smiling when you saw his expression. “There’s my boy,” you cooed with a fond grin, causing him to bashfully snicker, shaking his head as red tinted his cheeks and ears.

“Sweet wonderful you,” you sang with the song with a little shoulder shimmy, causing a small breathy chuckle to escape Jin’s lips. “You make me happy with the things you do.” Looking to Jin for a moment, you smiled widely before whining, “Jinnie,” you dragged out his name. “Sing with me,” you giggled.

As you sang along with the chorus, Jin started to bob his head to the groovy beat. When the guitar solo kicked in, Jin couldn’t hold back from rocking out.“Ooh, Rocker Jin, get it,” you cheered, bursting into giggles. Watching Jin fully commit himself to the guitar solo, arms in position as his left hand slid along the imagined frets, his fingers wildly moving along the non-existent strings, you couldn’t help but think how easy it was to just be with him. Even when one of you was in a mood, neither of you could ever stay upset for too long when around each other.

Returning your focus to the road, you nodded towards the small convenience store to your right. “Hey, I’m gonna stop up here for snacks.” Jin nodded as he finished out his guitar solo, both of you joining in on singing the chorus.When the second verse kicked in, Jin’s singing faded out as he watched you groove, your head smoothly moving from side to side to the beat, your voice belting it out with Christine McVie.

Don’t break the spell,It would be different and you know it will,You make loving fun, And I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one.

Too into your jam session and your focus on driving the vehicle, you didn’t see the mix of a sad expression and an adoring smile plastered to your best friend’s face. Straightening his form, he settled further into his seat as he kept his gaze on you. 

The outro of the song played out as you pulled into the convenience store lot. Parking the car, you looked at Jin, who was already staring back at you. Eyes widening, you pointed to the store. “You coming with?” Shaking his head, he pouted his lips in a frown. Eyeing his features for a moment, you could feel your heart break, knowing there was something wrong but also knowing he wasn’t planning on opening up any time soon. 

With a sigh, you unclicked your seatbelt. “Want anything in particular?” You stared out the windshield as your mind raced over the possibilities of what could be wrong with your best friend.

“No, I’m good,” he said, making you turn to look at him. “You always choose the best stuff anyway,” he said with a small smile. If you were anyone else, you may not have noticed the heaviness in his tone, reflecting the heaviness in his mind.

“Yeah, I have good taste, huh?” You smirked, opening the car door as the piano intro to Dolly Parton’s “Here You Come Again” started playing.

“Dolly Parton?” Jin asked in confusion, you staring at him blankly. “Since when is Dolly on Sad Bitch Hours?”

“Hey, Dolly speaks to my soul,” you shrugged, hopping out of the car. “Yeehaw bitch,” and with that, you slammed the door shut, leaving Jin alone to fondly gawk at you and your antics.

Jin settled into his seat, blowing on the cold passenger window, drawing little squiggly lines on the glass as the song played.

He tried not to think about you and what the 95s had told him not even twenty minutes ago, he really did. But as the song went on, he slowly starting to process the lyrics.

All you gotta do is smile that smile,And there go all my defenses.Just leave it up to you and in a little while,You’re messing up my mind,And filling up my senses.

He pressed the previous button on your car stereo, restarting the song. The piano intro started sounding as he focused in on the song, staring at the stereo.

Here you come againJust when I’ve begun to get myself together.You waltz right in the door,Just like you’ve done beforeAnd wrap my heart ‘round your little finger.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until you ripped the car door open exclaiming you got all the way to the candy aisle before you realized you didn’t have your wallet. “Fuck, I’m a mess, I really need to get my shit—Jinnie?” Your voice got quiet as you stared at Jin, his eyes wide and pointed at you, cheeks damp as more tears built up on his water line.

“Jin, why are you crying?” You stood frozen, in shock, rain drenching your form though you hardly took notice.

“Huh?” Jin snapped into consciousness, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. “I’m not.”

“Jin,” you started, “my love, you’ve got to talk to me.” Finally coming to terms with what was happening, you hopped inside the vehicle, shutting the door and turning your full attention to your best friend.

“Dolly Parton’s a real jerk, huh?” He said with a small laugh as more tears appeared in his beautiful orbs.

“You’re crying because of the song?”

Shaking his head, he waved you off. “No, I’m just stressed, the song must have hit me weird tonight. I’m ok,” he forced a small smile in a poor attempt to assure you.

“Ok, you’re my best friend, I love you, you are not ok,” you said, reaching out to touch his arm, only to have him pull away. He saw the hurt flash across your face at his action and he felt all control and resolve crumble.

“You belong with me,” he said suddenly. It was whispered but it rang loud and clear in your ears, however you couldn’t hold back the shocked “what?” that slipped out. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He said louder, this time accompanied by an angry tone.

Flinching a bit at his change in resonance, you pulled your eyebrows together. “Tell you what? What is going on?”

“That you’re seeing someone,” he yelled, not at you but out of frustration.

“Huh?” You said in utter confusion. “Where the hell did you get that idea from?”

You looked around the car as if you were searching the perimeter for answers to your own question. “Wait, did you say I belong with you?” You asked in surprise, suddenly hit with the meaning behind those whispered words. Dolly’s voice faded out as the song ended, though neither of you noticed.

Jin looked at you sadly, defeated, as Rick James’ “Give It To Me Baby” started playing through the car speakers, still neither of you taking notice. “It’s so easy with us,” he spoke quietly, tears welling up again, your eyes mimicking his.

“Jin–”

“You talked to Tae and Jimin about some dude you were interested in,” he explained in a sudden loud voice. “Why were you keeping it from me?”

Realization slowly came to you, resulting in a scoff escaping your lips when you figured out what had happened.

“Did they tell you that at practice tonight? That I talked to them about some dude? That I’m seeing someone?” You chuckled, shaking your head, your focus shifting to the two morons, momentarily getting distracted from Jin and the possible confession that just took place.

“Why are you laughing?” He asked you, hurt written in his features.

“Because those two morons are as big of idiots as you are, jesus Jin, you think I wouldn’t tell you if I was seeing someone?” You looked at him with scrutinizing eyes.

“You didn’t tell me though—”

“What did they say?” You asked impatiently, already preparing yourself to kick their asses next time you saw them.

Jin looked at you a bit taken aback at your hasty tone. “What? Th-they,” Jin stuttered. “You asked Jimin about some guy. Him and Tae said you’re dating him.”

“Ok, first of all, I didn’t even willingly talk to them, they practically forced me to after they caught me pathetically watching you play guitar.”

Jin’s look of confusion only set further in as he repeated your words, “Watching me play–”

“Second of all, I only told them that there is a guy I like, that’s it. They came up with all the other shit on their own, I guess they have some wild imaginations,” you said frustratedly. “How the fuck could they have even gotten all of this so wrong? I was literally pining after you right in front of their eyes, it was obvious what guy I–”

“Pining after me?” Jin’s eyes practically bulged out of his head as he tried to figure out if he was somehow hearing things, officially having gone mad, or if you somehow actually just said those words.

“I didn’t tell you I’m interested in someone because I didn’t think you felt the same way,” you confessed quietly.

Jin stared at you blankly as his mind carefully considered everything that just happened. “You like me?” He asked for clarification, wanting to be completely sure before he prompted his next question.

“I do,” you told him genuinely, your eyes locked on his own.

Nodding slowly, he took a few seconds to process. “Can I kiss you?”

It felt as though the oxygen within the cab of the car disappeared as you nodded quickly, a whispered, “Yes,” slipping from your vocal cords.

Leaning towards you, he placed a hand on the side of your neck, fingertips digging into your wet hair, his thumb brushing over your jawline. Your mouths were a mere inch away from each other, your noses bumping together as he rubbed his against yours, a small smile on his face, before he tilted his head opposite to yours and connected his lips with your own.

As soon as his plump lips met your own, the oxygen rushed back into your lungs and you felt more alive than you think you ever had before. He deepened the kiss and you happily responded, getting lost in the moment, the rain still pattering against the car, and him, kissing you after all that time.

Interrupting the intimacy, Jin groaned, “this song,” as he chuckled into the kiss. “Why is this song playing right now?” He shook his head lightly still laughing as you pressed small pecks to his lips and the corners of his mouth.

“This is our song now you know,” you teased, giggling against his lips. Jin’s hand cradled the back of your head, pulling you more firmly against his mouth, kissing you hard.

“Absolutely not,” he mumbled into the kiss.

“We’re gonna have our first dance to this at our wedding,” you continued to laugh at yourself causing Jin to pull back just enough to see your face clearly. 

“Already planning our wedding?” He smiled widely. “You really have been pining after me huh?”

Groaning, you turned away from him, pulling your seatbelt back on. “Nevermind, call it off,” you said as you positioned one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift as you pretended to prepare to drive. “You ruined it,” you joked, a smile toying on your lips. Jin laughed loudly as he leaned over the console, placing a hand to the side of your face turning you towards him, capturing you in a needy kiss. You responded easily, your hand moving off the gear shift to grab at the material of his hoodie, your lips moving perfectly with his.

It was always so easy with him. Almost as if you really did belong with each other.

“You’re all wet,” he suddenly spoke, pulling back a bit.

“Jesus, you’ve got a filthy mouth,” you teased, Jin sighing as he flashed an embarassed smile. “Give it to me, baby,” you giggled, sliding your hand from his chest to his neck, holding your palm against the warm skin.

“Stop it,” he laughed, shaking his head, his face tinted red. “I just meant we should head to the dorm so you can–”

“Nuh uh,” you interrupted. “If I go to the dorm and see those two idiots I’m going to kick some ass and I don’t want to do that tonight. Tomorrow maybe, but not tonight,” you smiled as you put the car into drive, pulling out of the parking lot.

Jin strapped his seat belt, laughing at you fondly. “Ok, to yours we go then.”

So fucking easy.

[gottagobuycheese]

Tag Thingy

Thanks @silent--sonata for indulging my terrible sleeping habits XD

(fyi this will probably be unnecessarily long and rambly, so it’s going under a cut (EDIT: whelp the song list got a little out of hand, I’d apologize if I were even remotely sorry)) 

Rules: Answer 17 questions & tag 17 people you want to get to know better  

Nickname: Cheese (or Lactose Wedge, or Dairy Product of Unspecified Origin and Purpose)

Zodiac Sign: Gemini! 

Height: 160.5 cm/5′3″ (Bubbles I refuse to believe you’re actually that much taller than me) 

Hogwarts house: Somewhere between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff allegedly, both of which I’d be honored to get sorted into, but honestly I’d just be stoked to get sorted at all 

Last thing I googled: I think it was something along the lines of “how to speed up audio playback in GarageBand,” but but my train of thought was derailed before I actually looked at any of the results so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (and on a related note, thanks again for the magical audio editing @imperiousheiress!)

Song stuck in my head: The end credits to Legacy of the Wizard (which is SUCH a jam, thank you for enlightening me @jessicafish) Following and followers: 227 (goodness just looking at that number is stress-inducing) and...104?! When the HECK did you all get here??? I think just last summer I was happily floating about in the 50′s. Anyways, to anyone I have not said hello, hello! Hope you enjoy your stay, and I am sincerely sorry if you expected Quality Original Content, or even just regularly scheduled other people’s content. Sadly, neither of these things tend to happen here. 

Amount I sleep: During the school year it’s usually anywhere between 30 minutes and 6 hours (DON’T EVEN START BUBBLES YOU HAVE NO RIGHT), usually landing in the 3/4 hour ranges if I’m smart about it, but now that I am on Unofficial Break, it’s usually at least around 6 hours (except today was 3 because Avatar is an excellent show and the weirdos in this house have regularly scheduled breakfast at 9-something every morning). Sadly my sleep schedule can only be forced to tolerate normalcy for so long before careening back in the other direction, so we’ll see if this is just a blip or if we’re back to normal mid-Atlantic Ocean hours!

Lucky number(s): I wouldn’t say these are necessarily favorite numbers, but I do like 2 and 9. But come to think of it, second attempts at Official Things do tend to go better for me than first attempts, so maybe there’s some merit there after all! Dream Job: Don’t think I’m really cut out for dreaming anymore, haha (unless you are a theoretical future employer in which case I am Extremely Full of Ambition and Passion). The bed-adjacent metaphor has been made, and not to brag, but I can sleep on pretty much any surface. Currently studying my Not Favorite aspect of STEM (was there ever a favorite or did I just like being good at things sometimes) and learning how to People™ properly (and also learning a gazillion convoluted drug names like what the heck dude, did you just fall asleep on your typewriter coming up with these), so I’ll take whatever place hires me and pays me enough not to depend on my parents for everything, I suppose. In an ideal world, that would entail a job where I could make friends, and even more importantly, a job where my shortcomings would not cause Massive and Irreparable Harm, but I don’t think this line of work really meshes with that last one, so I guess I’ll either have to get my shit together™ extremely soon or fake my death, adopt an alias, and flee to a completely new place with no ties whatsoever before trying to get another, less high stakes job. 

(Though I guess, less cynically, I like helping people well enough? And stories are fun! Maybe there could’ve been something with that. Not that there still can’t be, mind, but there’s still a long way to go between Here and There)

Wearing: Black shorts. Navy t-shirt. Brown some-specific-kind-of-jacket-I-forgot-the-name-of jacket. Is it summer? Is it fall? Am I in middle school? Who can say, but they are COMFY so sadly I have no cares to give

Favourite song(s): way way WAY too many to list here, and I do not have them all organized in a handy playlist separately, but to name a few (and these are not necessarily the MOST favorite okay, it doesn’t mean I don’t love stuff not on this list, it means you can’t force me to pick between my children and I am going to find at least one quick thing from a few things I like before I need to hit post and go back to looking like I’m being studious, and also things I think you should listen to right now, but for everything I’ve linked assuming I mean the whole OST), here’s a spam of links in no particular order: 

LoZ Wind Waker - The Great Sea (aka the epitome of optimism) 

Undertale - NGAHHH!! (I was about to link more but then I realized it’d be the whole soundtrack lol) 

LoZ Breath of the Wild - Hateno Village (Night) 

A:tLA - Peace (bad call BAD CALL NOW I HAVE EMOTIONS) 

Legend of Korra - Final Scene/Ending Theme (MISTAKES WERE MADE MISTAKES WERE MADE) 

Kung Fu Panda - Oogway Ascends (I feel like I’m taking you on a whole little album journey now XD) 

PMD: Explorers of Sky - Dialga’s Fight to the Finish (aka the Gotta Shower Fast song) 

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Pursuit ~ Cornered (aka the HURRY UP AND PACK UR SHIT YOUR FLIGHT LEAVES IN THREE HOURS song) 

Apollo Justice: A New Trial Is In Session (very underrated soundtrack imo) and also Apollo Justice: Telling the Truth (because these two are very closely associated in my head and it’s getting harder and harder to narrow things down so maybe I should stop lol) 

Your Name: Katawaredoki (in which I am forcibly thrown heart first into the bedroom of my second apartment at approximately 12-something A.M.) 

Digimon Adventure 01: Butterfly (MASSIVE 90′s childhood anime feels, and also Last Summer Before Everything Went to Shit feels (on a general scale I mean, not personal)) 

Pokémon: Lugia’s Song multitrack cover by Jordan Moore (would that I could have a talent of that musical talent) 

Pokémon the First Movie: Tears of Life (great now I’m on a Pokémon music spiral GUESS IT’S CHILDHOOD NOSTALGIA HOURS NOW) 

PMD: Blue Rescue Team - Farewell and Run Away/Fugitives (you CANNOT make me choose between these guys okay, my brain WILL explode, and whoops now I want to link the whole ost) 

Palette by A Dear Friend (wink wonk) 

Pokémon: Alpha Sapphire - Fortree City (wow talk about mood whiplash)

Detective Conan: Main Theme (I can’t find the specific version since there are so many, but it’s a Good Theme) 

Super Smash Bros.: Brawl - Opening Theme 

Pokémon Colosseum - Relic Forest 

Song for Lindsay by Andrew Boysen Jr. (oh great now it’s time for marching band feelings I guess)

Mt. Everest by Rossano Galante 

Deltarune - Field of Hopes and Dreams and A Town Called Hometown (orchestrated) (aka the Lots of Work To Do song) and You Can Always Come Home and Don’t Forget (hey guess what I wrote a bunch of fake extra verses for) (also it looks my pathetic attempts at narrowing things down are getting even more pathetic so I’ll wrap up soon XD) 

 Guild Wars 2 - Fear Not This Night (never actually played this myself but my friend got me addicted to the music) 

Lord of the Rings - May It Be (Enya) (aaaand now I miss choir, THANKS BUBBLES) 

Lion King - Can You Feel the Love Tonight (Multilingual) by Travys Kim (aka how I remembered how fun these things are) 

Original Song by Anonymous  

(The urge to add all the other songs I’m not adding is so strong but I’ve got so much work to do so just assume I mean all Nintendo music from any game I’ve played, all Ghibli movie music, every musical I’ve ever heard, and even more) 

Random fact:

Apparently as early as the 17th century, you could guess that a child would have a shortened life span if their foreheads tasted salty. Yes, there is a specific reason, and yes, you may already know what it is, and thankfully no, that life span projection no longer holds true, assuming access to Modern Medicine! 

Favourite Authors: Okay I have not read enough various books of enough various authors to be able to answer this, so I’m just gonna go with a few books instead. They are not necessarily all-time favorites, but I enjoyed reading them very much at the time and more often than not go back to them for comfort reads: The Martian, any of first three Harry Potter books, and The Rise of Kiyoshi. (That last one’s not really a comfort read but I am drowning in Loving Kiyoshi juice so here we are)

Favourite Animal Noises: Certain kinds of birds (UNLESS it’s some ungodly hour of the morning and you’re trying to sleep)? Ooh, and crickets! 

Aesthetic: A slob, but like...a comfy slob. An incredibly disorganized hermit who is happy to mill about in the uncontrolled entropy. (Are we talking about what aesthetic I give off, or what I like to look at, visually? Because I like space, and water, and mountains, and forests, and forests ON mountains, OOH and forests on mountains at night where you can see space, perhaps reflected in a body of water. Or just water, idk. Different things are pretty to look at at different times)

WELL THAT ONLY TOOK FOREVER SORRY FOR THE OBSCENE LENGTH 

@pachelbelsheadcanon @averybritishbumblebee @shingeki-no-korra @sailorlock @yeswevegotavideo @soultheta @queenerdloser @ifeelbetterer @rogueofdragons @peppervl @amadness2method @mutalune and anybody else who wants to do this! This isn’t seventeen, and I don’t know if any of you have already done it/been tagged, but I hear people moving around upstairs so that means this break is over XD. And ABSOLUTELY no pressure to actually do this, this is pretty much just me wishing you well! (and YOU of course, my dear reader! I hope everything’s going all right, or if it’s not, that it does soon)

[batbirdies]

Lol I also realized I switch between past and present tense in this all over the place. A terrible habit that I ignore when I’m trying to speed write, and fix later when I rewrite...so apologies.

[shiranuigenma]

An Unexpected Arrangement - KakaYama

TEEN+ // ALSO ON AO3 Words: 2,554 Prompt: Fake Dating Warnings: Alcohol, Drunk kissing, background Sasuke/Naruto

Anyone who knows me knows that angst is more my speed than humor, but I had this idea and I loved it so here we are, with my day 3 prompt for @kakayamaweek2019!

Hope you guys like it! :)

EDIT! I forgot to link to AO3 lmao

Kakashi does not talk about his personal life, to anyone, but Team 7 is notoriously nosy and he doesn't want to deal with it so he says something he shouldn’t - which, of course, backfires spectacularly.

Kakashi is not a man known for talking about his personal life. He's just a very private person - he always has been, and despite how much being the sensei for Team Seven has changed him, his dislike for sharing any details about himself hasn't changed a bit.

This, of course, does nothing to deter Sakura. She's always been too nosy for her own good, and while Kakashi knows that it's because she cares, that it comes from a place of worry, right now it's annoying because he's just left the longest, most tedious meeting of his life, he's tired, and he would rather listen to Naruto wax poetic about Sasuke for six hours than talk about his nonexistent love life right now - or ever, really, but when has he ever gotten what he wants? As it is, Sakura seems determined to hound him all the way back to his apartment, which he can't let happen.

He's made it eight years without one of his students finding out where he lives, after all. He's not about to break that record now.

"Sakura," Kakashi says as he comes to a stop, tone gentle but laced with an edge of warning. She stops beside him, glancing up at him curiously. He knows it's probably a bad idea to pull rank with someone who could kill him with just one finger if they felt so inclined, but he's only half a block and three flights of stairs from a well-deserved nap and he'd like to get there at some point today. "Do you really think this is an appropriate conversation to have with the Hokage?"

"Probably not," she replies after a moment of thought, but she doesn't appear apologetic. If anything, she sounds almost defiant, grinning cheekily at him. "But I'm not asking the Hokage, am I? I'm asking my friend, who I'm worried about."

For a moment Kakashi can only stare at her, wondering when she had become someone who so easily dismissed the Hokage. He knows her respect for him as her sensei has been declining steadily over the years, though that probably has a little to do with how lackluster he was as a teacher and a lot to do with his habit of walking around reading porn in public.

Well, that and maybe how he told her not two days ago that he hated the job and tried to pass the hat to her. He doubts he'd respect himself much either, if he were in her shoes.

"Maa, I'm fine," Kakashi finally says, but she doesn't look like she buys it. "You don't need to worry about me, Sakura, I..." He pauses when he catches movement from the corner of his eye, turning his head to see a group of men walking toward them. Naruto is talking animatedly to Tenzo, bouncing on the balls of his feet, while Sasuke and Sai trail behind them looking disinterested. Of the four of them, Tenzo is the only one who looks intrigued by whatever they're talking about.

It's like a lightbulb goes off over his head.

Is it a stupid idea? Maybe. Definitely, because if Tenzo finds out about it he will kill him, but those consequences for what he's about to do are the last thing on his mind.

"I have Tenzo," Kakashi tells Sakura, looking back at her. He expects confusion - Tenzo is not a name she is supposed to know, so she won't know who he's talking about. It's almost brilliant in its simplicity.

But confusion is not the reaction he gets. Instead, she lights up, clasping her hands in front of her and breaking out into a bright, excited smile. He doesn't like that look, and he likes it even less when she suddenly sprints up the street, closing the gap between them and the rest of their team.

Kakashi realizes a split second too late that not only has he made a mistake, but he’d played right into Sakura’s hands.

"I told you!" Sakura yells, and Naruto yelps when she suddenly jams her finger into his chest. This is bad. This is very, very bad. "Kakashi-sensei confessed, you owe me dinner!"

But that is so much worse.

"Confessed to what?" Naruto wheezes, clutching his chest where Sakura had poked him, jumping back when she moves to do it again.

"To dating Captain Yamato!"

Tenzo's head turns slowly, and if looks could kill Kakashi would drop dead where he stands.

"I'm sorry." Kakashi's not sure how many times he's apologized now - he lost count in the lobby, and while Tenzo hasn't said a word since they walked away from their arguing students, Kakashi knows he's in trouble.

He can't say he doesn't understand why Tenzo is angry with him, though. It's one thing for him to lie, but to include Tenzo in that lie without at least telling him about it first crosses one of the few boundaries that they have, and on top of that he had told that lie, intentional or not, to one of their students. He'd be mad, too, if Tenzo had done that to him.

And hell, he'd probably react the same way Tenzo is, too - with silence, quietly fuming as he all but drags Kakashi up the stairs to his apartment. He knows he's in for it the moment the door shuts behind them, and Tenzo does not disappoint.

"What were you thinking?" Tenzo demands, spinning to face him once he's slammed the door shut, dark eyes narrowed into a glare. Kakashi gets the distinct feeling that his friend is currently resisting the urge to hit him, and if he didn't find Tenzo as scary as an angry kitten, the pure fury in his eyes would almost being intimidating. "You told Sakura we were dating?"

"Not exactly," Kakashi replies defensively, kicking off his sandals by the door and beating a hasty retreat to the couch, sinking onto it with a heavy sigh. Resisting the urge to lean back and close his eyes, he instead leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and watching Tenzo tug off his own sandals. "Sakura was concerned that I was lonely. I told her I had Tenzo, how was I supposed to know that she knew that was you?"

"You..." Tenzo stares at him, and when his knuckles visibly blanch on the sandal he's holding, Kakashi thinks he might throw it at him. "I'm starting to think that everyone who calls you a genius is either a liar or has never actually met you. The whole team has known my name for years now because you can never remember to use my code name-"

"Oh. Well, shit." Thinking about it now, he does vaguely recall only calling Tenzo by the code name Tsunade had given him maybe two or three times since he came out of Anbu to captain Team Seven. Sakura's reaction makes a lot more sense now. "I'm sorry, Tenzo. In my defense, I did just come out of a five hour meeting with the Daimyo's advisers about his upcoming visit. And honestly, is it really fair to only be mad at me? Sakura's the one that started a betting pool. She even got Lady Tsunade involved-"

"Lady Tsunade would bet on whether Naruto is eating ramen for dinner tonight if someone asked her to," Tenzo interrupts, finally tossing his sandal down and crossing the room, dropping unceremoniously onto the couch next to Kakashi. When he speaks again, he sounds just a little less angry. "I just... I thought you knew that the kids jump to conclusions like it's their job. You should have-"

"I know." Kakashi sighs, leaning back into the cushions of the couch. "I'm not going to apologize again." He closes his eyes, letting himself relax - it's not like there's much else he can do right now anyway. "I'm also not telling them the truth. Telling Sakura I had you was the first time she's actually quit asking me questions about my love life in weeks, and I will happily let her keep thinking we're dating if it keeps her off my back."

Tenzo doesn't seem to know what to say to that, and a heavy silence - not quite awkward, but not entirely comfortable either - falls over them, and when Tenzo continues to offer no response, he lets himself begin to doze off.

He's half-asleep when Tenzo finally speaks, pulling him back to attention. He cracks one eye open, giving him a curious look.

"I guess I can go along with it," he says, and if Kakashi isn't mistaken, his friend's cheeks are flushed. "If Sakura really bothers you as much as you say she does, I can pretend that we're dating."

"You sure?" Kakashi asks, both eyes open now as he looks at Tenzo, and after a split second of hesitation, Tenzo nods, though his expression becomes one of regret when Kakashi grins wolfishly. "I could kiss you right now."

Tenzo slugging his shoulder as hard as he can is totally worth the way he turns the same shade as a beet and bolts for the door.

At first, pretending to date Tenzo had been a good idea. Sakura and Sai still ask questions, but Sakura isn't as pushy as she'd been before and she's teaching Sai to be more tactful, so if Kakashi asks them to respect his privacy and drop it, they typically listen. Sasuke just doesn't care, so he's a non-issue in that regard (which - and he won't tell the others - makes the Uchiha his current favorite).

Naruto, on the other hand, isn't as considerate, but Kakashi's still not entirely convinced the boy wasn't raised by wolves when no one was looking so that's to be expected.

He does have to admit it's nice, not having to field questions about his personal life constantly, and even nicer still to get out of doing things by telling the kids he's spending time with Tenzo.

At least, it was nice, until Naruto was finally promoted to Jonin and he decided to have his celebration at a bar.

Maybe it's the poorly lit booth Naruto picks out in the back of the room, or the sake sitting warm in his belly, but Kakashi finds himself letting his guard down - and, in a strange turn of events, actually enjoys himself. 

"I didn't know Kakashi-sensei knew how to have fun!" Naruto crows about it over his third drink, and it visibly sloshes over his fingers when he thrusts his cup into the air.

Kakashi would probably be offended if he weren't already beginning to feel a bit of a buzz, and besides - Naruto isn't wrong. But he's not going to put a damper on the night by bringing up the differences in their childhoods.

"I know how to have fun," Kakashi tells him instead, reaching over to pat Tenzo's back when he inhales his drink. "I played along when you were trying to see under my mask, didn't I? I even tried to help you."

"What are you talking about?" Sakura asks, but instead of answering Kakashi just grins, tugging his mask down and taking a drink.

Sakura is the only one currently looking at him, and by the time she recovers from her own shock and gets Naruto, Sasuke, and Sai's attention, his mask is already securely back in place.

The others, of course, don't believe her.

Four drinks in, the mask comes off and stays off. He's starting to feel unnaturally warm as the alcohol takes effect, and he's tired of pulling it up and down - at this point, Naruto is the only one who hasn't seen his face because Sakura, who is now taking Sasuke's place as his favorite, has been making him look the other way when Kakashi tugs it down.

This time he's paying attention, though, and his indignant reaction to realizing his friends really do already know is almost worth the mouthful of water he spits in Kakashi's face.

Five drinks in, the full length of Kakashi's leg is pressed against Tenzo's despite how much space they still have on their side of the table, his arm thrown carelessly over Tenzo's shoulders as Naruto regales them with a story about the new jutsu he's working on.

Six is still sitting untouched in front of him when he turns his head to mumble something in Tenzo's ear, and he doesn't really register the kiss he presses to Tenzo's temple until Naruto makes a joke about the PDA like he hasn't been all over Sasuke for the last twenty minutes.

Seven... Well, seven has him standing at the bar waiting for eight when Tenzo's hand suddenly wraps around his wrist, and then his back is pressed to the wall in the dark hallway that leads to the bathroom and Tenzo is kissing him, hands in his hair while his own are pressed to the small of his back.

Seven has him fleeing as fast as his feet can carry him and feeling grossly more sober than he had been seven drinks ago.

Seven has him realizing he is absolutely fucked.

Of course, he's known how he feels about Tenzo for way longer than he would ever admit - he reads enough trashy romance novels to know what it means when his palms start to sweat and his heart tries to escape his chest when Tenzo is around. The question is when this had started - maybe when they'd started going on missions together again, after his students had all left for other teachers.

Now that he thinks about it, he does remember a moment on one particular mission to the Land of Waves where they went undercover in a local bar to gather information, and seeing Tenzo smiling and laughing with the locals had made his chest feel so tight he thought he was having a heart attack.

Yeah, that's the moment. It has to be.

But whether that moment was the catalyst or not, the truth of it is inescapable - at some point, Kakashi had fallen hopelessly and pathetically in love with Tenzo, and that realization is somehow both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him.

The problem with that is, though, that Tenzo had kissed him back. In fact, if he recalls correctly, Tenzo had been the one to drag him into that hallway in the first place, had been the one to tug his mask down and kiss him stupid. And that is terrifying and confusing and he doesn't know what the hell to do.

Which is how he finds himself confessing everything to Sakura when she visits him in his office the next day, hiding his head beneath a newspaper on his desk while she laughs at him.

He supposes he deserves it.

"You love him," she says, patting his shoulder sympathetically. She makes it sound so simple.

"No," he groans, but he's a liar and she's heartless.

"Yes." She pulls the paper away and rolls it up, smacking him on the head with it. "If Naruto and Sasuke can get over themselves, you can too. Just tell him how you feel and date him for real." With that she turns to leave, taking his newspaper with her.

"I hate you," he calls half-heartedly after her as she goes, but she just laughs and shuts the door.