#he's better at receiving compliments now but he does still always try to divert the attention to something or someone else

[5eokjin]

seokjinnie getting shy because someone said he’s the most handsome person in the world 🥺

[shesawriter39049]

|Breakdown’s & Bugatti’s| M|

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader (Ft a hint of Tae & Jin)

About- Namjoon just does what he has to do to keep you ....calm while at a charity gala!  

OR:

CHAPTER 1 : MEET THE KIMS OF NEW YORK 

**WARNINGS: **Semi public sex, Fingering (F receiving), Minimal prep, Light dirty talk, Light spit play, Choking, Spanking, Gags (Makeshift), Non protective sex (Creampie), light overstimulation

WC: 7K (This is a sneak peak so it’s 1.2k)

NON SEXUAL WARNINGS: (Fictional political background)  Hints at recreational drug use (Molly) Brief mentions of death, father issues, and panic attacks/anxiety (All of these topics are super minor but again, out of respect I’m mentioning them) 

The remaining “characters” will be introduced at a later date

This chapter hints at various future plots 

This is almost 2 years old, I reworked it recently 

If you’ve been following me for a while this is the original draft for “Club First Royale” 

FINAL NOTE: I haven’t been active in damn hear a year ( 8 months) So I am posting sneak peeks intentionally! No, not to torture you guys lol but to get my blog flowing again because I’m sure people aren’t really checking in anymore

OT7 ALTERNATING STORYLINES

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FINALLY, fuck 36737 years later you spot your Kim!

Standing there in all his glory, in a Valentino slim fit navy blue suit, the jacket appearing to have some sort of paisley print, opting against a tie. Leaving his crisp white dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, teasing at his broad carnalized chest as he makes his way from the bar. Heading over to the table, which has an empty seat waiting right beside him with your name written all over it...literally!

Purposely dodging the old lady to your left in a coat that would have PETA ready to throw hands! Gaudy diamonds, terrible Botox, and smelled as if she showered in an entire bottle Chanel No. 5! 

Yeah, no, sorry, not in the mood for another meet and greet right now!

“Joonie” Squeals from your lips once you’re in close enough proximity, his dark piercing eyes cut over to meet yours. A playful smirk tugging on those sinfully thick lips of his, accompanied by those disrespectful ass dimples!

“There she is!” Eyes dripping with warmth, as he ushered you in with open arms ,and in these types of situations, Namjoon felt like home, he was your safe space. “You look fuckin good” The words hushed into your hair in a tenor meant for your ears and your ears only! A hint of something a little more than just friendly playing on his tongue. 

A small little “Thank you” leaves your lips, and if I didn't know any better I’d think the compliment made you a little flustered.

Namjoon was the definition of Ocean arm’s and goddamn if you didn't just love how big this man was! It literally felt like he was hiding you from the entire universe when he has you nuzzled into his frame! The whole interaction couldn't have lasted longer than 20 seconds in all actuality but god you needed it! 

Face flush to his chest, wrapping your arms firm around his waist, letting your eyes flutter shut briefly, a deep slow exhale flooded through your body. Inhaling the musky yet sweet scent of his cologne mixed with his natural aroma, which has grown to become a calming mechanism over the years. 

“You had me worried for a minute…” Placing a quick kiss in your hair, that you would have missed if you blinked but again, your in public soo...

Palms soothing up and down your back gently, as he breathed into your hair , pulling back a little so there was some form of personal space between the two of you.  

“Your late, even for you princess...I know you started early, I got your live(Instagram) notification, so what happened?” Head clocked to the side as he appraises you and fuck, the bass in his voice still has you all types of fucked up! Glancing over your shoulder briefly before leaning up to place a kiss on the hinge of his jaw, that tittered the line of passing as an “innocent” greeting. 

“I’m fine Jonnie it’s nothing, we just got held up in glam.., Ariel was flying in from Miami...we got a late start” Gaze intentionally diverted as you welcomed yourself to his glass of Scotch instead. Damn near inhaling the entire drink as we speak and you hated dark liquor so that alone let him know something was up!  

Merely resisting the urge to smooth out the crease he felt forming between his brows, a dry snort left his lips, rolling his eyes in response to your blatant stubbornness. Nevertheless, always the gentleman, reaching down to pull out your chair so you could take a seat next to him. Mirroring your actions just moments prior, quickly scoping out his surroundings before he brought those plush pillows he calls lips a centimeter away from your ear.

Fuck. 

  “Right, so I'm just going to assume you don’t wanna talk about it right now! Or wait I’m sorry, have you just upgraded to insulting my intelligence straight to my damn face?” 

Brow quirked inquisitively, and you could literally feel every word, tone taking on a hint of seriousness the more he talked. Namjoon licked his lips and the tip skimmed the edge of your ear and I - . 

“For one you smell like an entire bottle of Heidsieck, I can almost taste the nicotine on your tongue and you've been crying I know you. ”  

Pulling back just enough to glare down at you above the brim of his glasses, which he always wore low along his bridge. Eyes daring you to look him in the face a lie again, teasing his fingers through his chocolate locks. Styled in the perfect semi grown out undercut, the top a little on the long side, while the sides tapered into a crisp fade. Sideburns outlining that extremely understated jawline of his! Though you had to admit the yellow gold diamonds dawning his ears were kinda stealing the show right now! 

“So again, do you just not wanna talk about it right now? Or have you forgotten that I have an IQ of 137, and can smell bullshit from here all the way to Gangnam!?” 

You're having very vivid day daydreams of your hand wrapped around this man's windpipe and for once it’s not even remotely sexual! 

Blatantly ignoring the strong twitch within Namjoon’s jaw and simply saying “I’m here, aren’t I!?” Face stoic, tone flat as all hell, in case it wasn’t clear that this conversation was more than over, you opted to eye his bourbon glazed salmon until he got the hint.

 “Oh, for fucks sake! ” Hissed from his lips without a lick of heat behind them, because as quiet as it’s kept ,your lowkey Joon’s baby, which is why he cares to begin with! Picking up a piece on his fork before essentially shoving it into your hand ”Your lucky I can’t have your ass getting sick on me tonight, we still have like, 3 hours left of this bullshit.”

More like he just can’t tell you no, but hey, whatever helps him sleep at night! Sliding his plate in your direction, completely giving up on eating at this point, he knew you needed it more anyway! Finally, starting to feel your mix of poisons hit your system so you knew you needed  to even it out with a little substance. I mean yeah, you could have just ordered your own plate but meh, this was easier! 

Namjoon started busying himself on his phone while you ate, scrolling through a couple contacts until he landed on a contact labeled under “Kookie”.

“Even though you were only late because “Your glam team ran late” There were air bunnies involved, and again you just really wanna choke his ass!  “What are you thinking tonight? He’s actually on his way here right now, but he already has a couple options on him...” 

The question was vague and for damn good reason...considering…

However you knew exactly what he was referring too.., and thank god!

Speaking over a mouth full of salmon, sounding utterly exasperated!  “Honestly, any fucking thing at this point…” 

Namjoon hums thoughtfully, sucking on a Bourbon soaked Ice cube “He’ll be here in 20, I just went with Smartees…always a safe bet...” 

Smartees, candy, Vitamin -E, Molly... Estcasy...it’s all one and the same, just depends on who you ask!

He leans back in, apparently keen on whispering tonight. “Maybe, if your a good girl and eat enough we can split one before we leave...chill you out a little bit. '' Voice thick and heady, lips curling into a grin with a hint of something wicked playing on the ends, as his fingers idly ghost over your forearm. Giving it a light squeeze and regardless of how innocent the skin-ship may seem to the naked eye, you’re well aware of all the underlying innuendos behind it! 

You make a noise of agreement, trying your damnedest to ignore the slight chill coursing up your spine at the pet name. Though before you could even dwell, Namjoon was sliding back in with another update, this one however wasn't as...arousing…to say the least!

“Fox 2’s been waiting for you to get here by the way...since the event was put together by council and all. They've been wanting to talk to us together about the fundraiser, just the same shit as last year.” 

Waving his hand dismissively idly twirling the various pieces of Bvlgari around his fingers, seemingly un-phased while you on the other hand...release the most exasperated huff! Reclining against your seat, eyes rolling to the back of your head in 30 different directions! Yeah, It comes with the territory, you know this, hints Namjoons reaction, or lack thereof!  But fuck you just really weren’t in the mood to do press tonight, It’s literally physically exhausting to pretend that you weren’t just PISSED! 

“Of -fuckin- course they do!” Stabbing your mashed potatoes in a way that's... somewhat concerning… 

“Baby.” It was a warning, though his voice sat barley above a whisper, his tone was crystal! Eyes cutting in your direction briefly before dropping back down to his phone….

You didn't have it in you to argue, there’s no way around this anyway, fuck it!  “What -the-fuck-ever!” Sliding the half empty plate aside “Well, you wanna just get it out of the way now? Because I’m really not in the mood for-”

“Y/n..oh my god! Hi, honey how are you!? You look beautiful as always…” Suddenly there was a human, a human wearing the wrong shade of foundation kissing your cheek. A human by the name of Caroline, one of the local news anchors...clearly her damn ears were ringing.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi guys, that’s all she wrote, well kinda, actually she finished it like 16 months ago lol but that’s all she wrote for now I guess....

**_

_****Love you...see ya soon!!**

***SIDE NOTE, MY FRIEND MADE THE TWITTER EDIT SO DON’T ASK LOL IDK ****

UPDATE: HEADCANONS FOR THE KIM BOYS/OC

  HEADCANONS

[hu4ngs]

jisung as your boyfriend! thank you ♡

AAAAAAAA THIS MADE ME SO SOFT jisung is a big baby

can u believe this baby is 18 this year? cuz i don’t

i personally REFUSE to believe he’s 18

anyway

you met jisung during a basketball match

it was your school against his

you weren’t really THAT supportive you just came because everyone told you there was gonna be handsome players

also the food stalls during school matches are always the b e s t

so here you are

you were happy that you got a pretty decent seating so you immediately started looking for cute players

you figured you probably looked focused as hell cuz that’s how you met jisung

he was sitting next to you, you can tell he’s from the other school judging from his school blazer

he chuckled looking at you squinting to see the match when it hasn’t even started

when he noticed that you noticed him, he immediately looked away

you stared at him for a couple seconds longer before diverting your attention back to the court

the horn blew, indicating the game had started

you noticed a light haired fella from the other school literally killing your school’s team

he was fast, he was sharp, you can tell he’s in ace

you watched him effortlessly shoot a 2-pointer goal, which made the guy next to you immediately cheer

you were a bit surprised from his sudden cheer, which made you jump

your attention diverted yet again to him

“is that your friend?” you asked absentmindedly

he was taken aback for a few seconds before finally nodding

“he’s gonna kill it” he said proudly

a smile automatically formed on your face, another favourite of yours is watching people get excited during matches

“are you here to support your whole school or to just support #30?” you asked again

he laughed shyly, “of course it’s to support the whole team. it just happens that my best friend is the ace of the team” he bragged a bit in his words

you giggled

you found him super cute

“what about you?” he asked

you were a bit embarrassed to admit that you were just here to look at cute players

so you went with option #2

you lied

it’s a white lie so it’s ok

“oh  yeah, i’m here to show support for my school’s team” you said, although you sound hesitant

you thank the gods he didn’t question your hesitation though

“jisung” he muttered with a smile

“y/n” you told him back, and he nodded to himself before turning back to the game

you did the same

long story short

you ended up cheering with jisung together for his friend (which you learned his name was chenle)

you earned a lot of stares from your schoolmates though

but you didn’t care

from the looks of it, your school’s team was barely winning

chenle was really beating their asses off

“dude, your friend is on fire”

jisung nodded proudly

“what did i tell you? that’s an ace right there”

you giggled at him before continuing to cheer on for chenle

when the match ended, you had gathered up all the courage you had to ask him to go around the food stalls with you together

because 1) he’s genuinely the cutest boy you’ve ever met

and 2) you had no friends to do this with you

yknow like seulgi once said. sometimes you gotta be BOLD

so anyway

before jisung was even thinking of leaving the court, you had asked if he wanted to go around the food stalls with you

you noticed him get a bit too flustered with the request

your brain had immediately started telling you that this was a mistake

and that he probably has a girlfriend already or something

but then he said yes!!!!!

HE SAID YES!!!!!!!!

you probably realised a bit too late that you got a little too excited

bc by then jisung’s face was already red after seeing you like that

“sorry” you chuckled

and he shook his head, “it’s okay”

just when you’re about to ask him to get out of the court he said something

“is it okay if chenle joins, though?” he asked

you were 100% okay with that, although a small part of you wished it was just you and jisung

but at that time it was still too early for you to notice that

so you agreed wholeheartedly

so that’s the story of how you became friends with chenle and jisung

chenle wasted no time to show his true colours

by seconds he was already a loud, laughing mess

he’d also make fun of jisung whenever he has the chance and you find their jokes toward each other to be super funny

you were super glad that this whole thing didn’t turned out to be awkward

when the overall event was coming to an end, you had to go on your own way

jisung made sure he got your number before you two depart,,, so that’s saying  s o m e t h i n g

and after you left..... poor jisung was teased even more by chenle

“you asked for their number FIRST? you like them don’t you?” chenle asked teasingly, nudging jisung by his arm

“do me a favour, and just, shut up? please?” 

chenle laughed

“i’m just saying, if you need help to ask a certain someone out.... i’m right here” he said proudly while puffing his chest out

ANYWAY

days after the event,,, like literally so many days later

you find yourself not able to stop texting jisung

the conversation just keeps on going

it’s crazy

you didn’t think he’d be a good texted but he simply is

whenever you text him first he’d immediately come online??? that’s a whole MAN

and he always have something interesting to say that would keep the conversation going

you find yourself drawn to him

it’s crazy

you’ve never felt like this before

like okay, you’ve had crushes before

but you never felt like THIS

everyday you’ll find yourself wishing that you’d get to see him again

and it’s really driving you crazy

like y/n???? smitten over a boy????? that’s crazy

jisung, on the other end, also felt the same

he lowkey wants to go watch a movie with you or something

but he can’t admit that to anyone

he can’t admit it to chenle because chenle will LOSE his mind

and he most definitely can’t admit it to you in fear he’d get rejected or get you weirded out

so he’s basically stuck

sometimes he’s on the subway on the way home and he sees two couples in it with him wearing matching jackets or are talking about getting boba together,,,,, he lowkey wishes he’d get to do that with you

it’s really driving him mad bc he can’t tell if he’s in love or just lonely or just going through puberty

he’s not really one to understand these type of feelings yknow.....

at the end he decided to contact his long lost friend

who’s like super older than him

it’s taeyong

he’s contacting taeyong

one night he suddenly sent taeyong a text

which caught the elder one off guard cuz it’s been so long since they talked

but it’s okay taeyong’s a nice person

when he asked jisung what was up

jisung immediately went into details

he told taeyong everything

from the basketball match

to the way you always stays online and wait for him to finish typing bc he admits he’s a bit of a slow typer

and he admits to taeyong that he does wanna hang out with you again

and not,,, platonically,,,, he genuinely wants to take you out on a date

taeyong let out a laugh when he read jisung’s super long explanation on what’s bothering him

he gave jisung advice alright

and he tried as hard as he could to make sure it was a good advice too

because it’s probably the first time the boy has ever felt like this, he can’t ruin this for him

and thanks to taeyong, jisung felt like the clouds in his head was finally clearing up

he was finally able to see a solution

which wasn’t that much hard to find,,, but he needed assurance from an older, experienced man

so yes, jisung ended up asking you out

when you received that text you were blown out of your mind

you were literally on cloud 9

the butterflies in your stomach? there were swarms of them

you couldn’t get a good night’s rest because your mind won’t let you stop thinking of the fact that you just got asked out on a date

BY PARK JISUNG TOO!!!!!

who’s doing it like you? not me, not anyone else. YOU’RE DOING IT LIKE YOU

jisung even made it clear that there wasn’t going to be a zhong chenle this time. just the two of you

and you find it sweet of him to reassure you that

nah, you’re just smitten by him

LMAO

so anyway

you spent your whole trying to find the perfect outfit

best believe you even went out to buy a pair of new shoes too

that’s how in love you are

on d-day, you two met in the subway

you met him after two stops, and he looked SOOOOO good

he literally looks like your future boyfriend

he wore something simple, but it really complimented his figure

unlike the other time you saw him, this time he wasn’t in his school attire, he had one airpod in, and overall he just looks dashing

you figured by now you ARE in love, because no boy wearing black jeans with a pair of converse topped with an adidas jacket had ever made you feel this way

but you’re not gonna complain

if you’re gonna fall in love with someone, it better be park jisung

when he noticed he thought similarly as you did too

he wondered how you could so good wearing something so simple

yup. if he was gonna get boba with somebody, it better be you

the subway was kinda full, so you were standing

he immediately went over to you

and you were lowkey blushing looking at how tall he was now that he’s standing right in front of you

“you look good” you commented, to make things less awkward, although that obviously backfired, because jisung immediately turned shy

“you.... you look good, too” he mumbled, looking away

luckily, after a few stops, both of you warmed up again to each other

he asked you about your day, and as usual you somehow carried away with talking about completely unrelated topic

but that’s what attracted jisung the most

he doesn’t do much of the talking

but he sure as hell enjoys listening to you talk

you were amusing too, and on top of that you made sure you weren’t just blabbing about yourself, you made sure he finds the fun in the conversation too

when you arrived at the mall, neither of you knew what you wanted to do

so you both ended up wandering around the big mall, and every once in a while you’d stop at a fast food restaurant to eat something light

you had to admit, even though you two weren’t doing anything specific, you were sure having a lot of fun

when (still) wandering around the mall, you two walked by a phone cover store

and jisung had the bravest, most brilliant idea ever

he asked if you wanted to get matching phone covers and honestly that was the sweetest thing someone has ever said to you

and like??? getting matching phone covers with jisung???? YES PLEASE

you agreed with your whole heart bruh let me TELL you

and that’s how jisung finally knew nothing wrong could really go with confessing

after buying matching phone covers, he finally fulfilled his wish to get you both boba

AND in the boba store

it’s not the most romantic way nor place to confess but,,, that’s jisung for you

it’s not the fanciest place ever, but it’s still the sweetest thing to happen to you

ngl you were gonna cry but you’re a bad bitch so you DIDN’T

so now he’s your boyfriend

and compared to before, he became way awkward now, more than ever

but again, that’s just park jisung for you

he gets shy super quickly

and i’m not saying you aren’t shy too, but sometimes whenever you absentmindedly grab his hands to go somewhere or something, boy, he will n o t stop thinking about it

good news is that you two go on dates much more often now

and he’d visit you sometimes when he has the time whenever you have extra classes

and he strictly asked you not to reveal your relationship to chenle yet because he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face that boy yet

anyway

so during the first few........ months of dating, please don’t expect to have that much hand touching, or hugs, let alone any types of kisses

he’s just that awkward

and he’s super grateful if you understand him and doesn’t pester him to do any coupley things

in fact he’d fall in love with you even more if you’re like that

but eventually he’ll come around anyway

he wouldn’t really initiate anything first other than the simple arm-around-shoulders thing, but he definitely won’t flinch or blush like a madman whenever you hug him or hold his hand

daily facetimes with him are a must that’s a requirement from park jisung himself

he doesn’t show it but we all know he’s secretly clingy

like SUPER clingy but in his own way

if you don’t give him attention he’s definitely gonna sulk

if you give chenle more attention, he’s 100% gonna sulk

once again he doesn’t tell you about it, but he LOVES having his arm around your shoulders especially when you two are in public

he lowkey likes the feeling??? like it kinda boosts his ego when he does this so he does it a lot

he doesn’t buy you gifts too much but he definitely loves hanging out/going out on dates with you

he’ll definitely buy you all the foods you want too

when he does buy you gifts he’d buy you little things like a keychain of your favourite anime character maybe, or a pair of adorable socks, maybe a cute little necklace and a shitton of phone covers

whenever you’re stressed out with your studies he wouldn’t bother you, but he’ll definitely accompany you if you asked him

he’ll comfort you a lot when you’re breaking down, although he doesn’t say much, but having him hold you tightly in his embrace is enough comfort for you, especially when it’s coming from jisung

your first kiss together would be waaaay overdue tbh

like, your first kiss is probably a year after dating he’s just that shy

but it’s sweet

best believe this time it’s jisung that initiated the first move

as usual you guys are on a date

and unlike other dates, you guys decided to have a picnic by the river

and unlike other dates pt. 2, he’s much more smitten for you than he has been the other days

maybe you surprised him at school when he’s super stressed out

maybe you brought him something he had been wanting to have

maybe you took him out to a cafe that he’s been craving

WE’LL NEVER KNOW but he’s super smitten

and his heart keeps racing in a different way whenever he sees you on that particular day

so when you were busying yourself taking cute pics of the river with the sunset

he suddenly slides in his hand onto your cheek

which caught you off guard

you were like,,,,,

“is this really my boyfriend is he really doing something other than having his hand on my shoulders?”

you’re lowkey panicking and excited to see what’s he gonna do next

at first jsung was hesitant but his heart was screaming for him to do it

so HE DID

he leaned in and kissed you

and you gladly kissed him back,,, hell, you’ve been waiting a lifetime for this moment

your kiss with him was super innocent, and was so gentle

it was perfect

you two were on the picnic blanket, by the river, accompanied by the sunset

you can’t think of any better way for you to share your first kisses with each other

and to top that all up, after all that, he told you that he loves you for the first time ever

and that’s a lot for jisung

in conclusion, jisung will be a hard shell to break

it will take a lot of patience from you

but it’s all worth it because he’s a treasure

he will cherish you so so so so so much

and if that’s not love idk what is

don’t ever break his heart or trust bc he can NEVER handle that

OH also on a side note now that you’re dating jisung, you’ll have to deal with chenle too

he WILL annoy you as much as he annoys jisung it’s just zhong chenle tingz

lastly, jisung would probably, at one point in your relationship, tell you that he’s glad he shared his firsts with you because he honestly can’t think of a better person

ugh wtf im jealous somebody get me a bf like park jisung pls

[jjkpls]

sharing is caring (m)

> genre : smut, soulmate fluff

> pairing : park jimin x reader x kim taehyung

> words : 5.5k

> Taehyung is taken aback when his soulmate, Jimin, introduces his new girlfriend to him. Jimin tries to help them break the ice. (honestly pwp, slight slash)

> A/N : so... trying to get back into writing, hope this doesn’t suck too much (lmao way to sell your shit). so vmin 3some yay! thanks to anyone that’ll read it, let me know your thoughts ❤

It was one thing earlier when his fingers were laced in between the stiff locks of his hair. Short nails scraping on his scalp, gripping a little when his wet lips were covering the skin of his neck with love. It was warm, comforting, pleasing, felt like pure love and affection. Different from what they are used to give to each other but still oddly familiar.

But with her, it's something else. Taehyung does not know her. He hardly knows her voice. Has never met her heart. Does not know her body. As he is looking at her now, lain down, legs spread enough for him to sit in between, he realizes he meets her eyes for the very first time.

She looks kind. All he knows about her comes from what Jimin has told him. And for the most part, he was not listening. He was too busy trying to keep his heart from sinking with the weight of too many concerns, to care about whatever the hell she was studying and where she'd grown up.

His gaze falls from her eyes, slides along the line of her nose and the shiny curve of her swollen lips, to his own hands. They're spread over her naked waist. He doesn't even remember how it happened.

The skin feels so warm and soft under his palms. He does not feel like taking them off. He does not know if he wants more, if he can do more. Does she?

“I get it. I don't- I'm sorry for the way I acted before.” Jimin is beaming. His eyes have completely disappeared behind the thin crescent of his eyelids and Taehyung would make fun of him if it were not for the faint pink taint spread over the round tip of his nose, reminiscence of the big meltdown from earlier.

Jimin's chubby fingers wrap around the back of Taehyung's neck, cold rings recovering the skin in goosebumps, “I can have two soulmates, Tae. I do have two soulmates.”

Taehyung simply nods. He knows there is no discussion to hold anyway. He just has to accept it. He is not the only one to receive his friend's unconditional, endless love and devotion. He used to share, sure, with the rest of the band, and his family, and a part of the rest of the world. Jimin's heart is just so wide and so full and he wants to fulfil everybody and everyone with it. That's one of the reasons why he started loving him in the first place. How unfair would that be to blame him for it now?

He is scared though. He has not lost him yet but he is terrified he will. He knows his worth. Not so bad of a person, trying but lacking immensely. He knows how lucky he is to have him. Half of the time, he does not even know that he deserves him. But he's had him for so long, how could he give up on him now? He is just human. And he is greedy as one is.

“Taehyung, you don't have to worry. I won't take him away from you.” Taehyung looks down. She hasn't said much the whole time, her voice sounds so foreign, and sweet too.

She is waiting for him to say something, he does not and she flushes bright red under his feline gaze. She squirms around a little, her legs end up resting on his better. Taehyung let his hands slide along her sides, setting on her denim-covered thighs. He's grateful for her words. They've been spoken with a softness that he recognizes for he finds it in Jimin. He is sure she means it.

“You're adorable.” Taehyung whispers, charmed, as Jimin kisses his girlfriend's burning cheek.

“She is, isn't she?” Jimin is all giggles and sparkly eyes now. It is funny how excited he is at the prospect of having a friend see his girl and appreciate her the way he does, in this too intimate way. Then again, it is Jimin. He wants to spoil. He was made to spoil.

“Can I kiss you ?” Eyes diverting to her boyfriend, she absent-mindedly nibbles on her lips, licking them discreetly.

“You can do whatever you want as long as you don't forget who's your man.” He watches their interaction. It is weird. She is lain right there, almost under him, they're so close he can smell her scent -something mild and sugary that reminds him of an exotic fruit he can't pinpoint-; yet it feels oddly personal. He feels like a voyeur, observing the intimacy, the affinity of a longer secret conversation he is not part of. It is palpable. Maybe it is too wrong.

Her hands are pressing sheepishly on top of his now, making a flower of warmth bloom in his chest.

He does not understand how this whole thing can work. How it even just came about. Why do they need to include him, to give him some of this when they are obviously in perfect osmose already.

Taehyung wraps his fingers around her hands. His look so huge with hers nustled in their centre. They're warm, not very soft. He wonders why. He is pretty sure it's related to the thing she is studying or maybe a hobby of hers. Jimin's mentioned it but he can't remember.

From that thought, another one rises out of nowhere. When was the last time he has been this close to a girl? Probably some time in high school. So long ago, it feels like a whole life had passed by since then. He comes to this realization at the same time his heart does, apparently, as it suddenly starts beating hard and fast in growing anxiety and excitement.

A quick tentative peck on the corner of her mouth, and he is sure she wants it too so he just indulges into her. He assumed it would take more time for them to adjust to each other. It doesn't though. Quickly teeth are teasing, tongues meeting and exploring shamelessly. It feels so sultry, hot and steamy, he can't help but always lean in further, fingers digging in her thighs (secretly hoping it is hard enough to leave faint marks for them to look at later), mouths kissing always deeper.

And it gets hotter and bolder. His brain is definitely getting intoxicated by her perfume -he's decided to give up on trying to identify it now, from now on it's become her scent-, her touch, the moans she tries to conceal, how wet and warm and delicious her mouth feels.

His heart is about to burst and his arms are shaking, then fail to hold him up. He crashes into her, though he can’t even think about feeling apologetic when she seems so willing to welcome him in. Her tiny hands are gripping his shoulder and his waist, her legs are sliding up quietly around his waist. There’s no doubt she wants it as much as he does. And no doubt she feels as good as he does. He wonders, briefly, how much of him she’s feeling. Does she feel crushed, grounded down by the weight of his body? Because he feels pulled by her, by every bit of warm contact his body gets from hers.

He’s already so hard, it’s painful. Despite the anxiety and the confusion of the whole situation. His brain is still in a blur, trying to make out a logical and realistic scenario -the fumes their shared kisses and sheepish but needy touch induce are not helping.

He could not tell for how long they allowed themselves to lost into each other’s mouths but when he finally lifts himself up slightly, their ragged breaths, swollen and wet lips, burgundy cheeks and watery eyes mirror perfectly.

Jimin has slipped a hand between the two of them -hardly given the non-existence gap between their bodies- and he is now patting at his girlfriend covered crotch. Taehyung can feel it, the hand, obviously, but he can’t get himself to leave the warmth of the girl's proximity just yet. It doesn’t really trigger anything, this touch, foreign but not scary, so he just lets it be while he looks at her, staring at her boyfriend with big earnest eyes.

“Enjoyed kissing Tae?” Taehyung looks at the blush of her cheeks deepening two shades darker. It’s already addicting, watching her undergo her emotions with no ability to hide her shame and embarrassment. “I can feel how wet you are through your jeans, baby.” He is chuckling, while she mumbles something Taehyung doesn’t quite get, hidden as she is behind her hands but he grins anyway.

“Cute.” He realizes he said it aloud only because of Jimin’s crinkling eyes, jumping suddenly to meet his. He is grinning from ear to ear, overcome with joy as if the compliment was directed solely to him.

“See, Tae likes you now. I told you he would, didn’t I ?”

Was she worried? There are flashes of memories blinking in his mind. He can see himself not so subtly turning his back to her, serving her the nastiest tight-lipped smile and cold glare he owns, animatedly cursing at her to Jungkook trying desperately to get him to see his point -she was a bitch and Jimin too for leaving him- and he feels like shit. He was a dick. A jealous possessive greedy mean dickhead to this girl who, now that he takes a chance to yield his attention to, seems delectable.

They’re sharing another moment. Jimin is whispering in her ear, honey-coated words Taehyung can only imagine from the precious tiny changes in her expression, blessing her skin with kisses when she’s answering him back with the quietest words. They’re cute. And he wishes he could hear her while feeling awkward for intruding. But is he really intruding when she doesn’t make any move to get her legs to free his? He hates to interrupt -obviously not enough so to not proceed- but he’s scared they might flee before he tries to cease a chance. He feels he owes her for having been a massive ass. But also, he kind of really wants to.

“Can I...” He clears his throat awkwardly, trying to get their attention. Taehyung, who is a man who usually thrives from people’s ogling him, doesn’t shy away from but bathe in the attention, feels himself blush, hard, when the couple’s curious set of eyes fixate on him. They look so nice from down there, looking up to him expectantly. Still, he doesn’t know what they expect. And he still kind of feels like a sore thumb.

“I wanted to- I mean if you’re okay with it and-“ He is stuttering now like he’s fucking Jungkook and he doesn’t know how to fix it. He is not cute, he’s just awfully embarrassing. The chances of getting his request met are flying away with all his hopes. He wants to die a little or at least disappear but then Jimin’s chubby fingers are rubbing gently on his knuckles. He does it like he does all the time to reassure him or just show him support during interviews or even on stage. “Can I eat her out?” Jimin gives him a look. It's a bored one that says something along the lines of ‘I don’t know dude don’t ask me, I don’t have the pussy you wanna eat’. “I mean you- sorry, feels weird asking you...” He says, peering at her from between his dark lashes.

“Weirder than asking her boyfriend? Really?” And just like that Jimin's laughing again, and Taehyung wants to grab those fake ass friendly chubby fingers and crushed them in his fist until the traitor cries. “Babe, do you want it?”

“You can say no, I won’t- I mean you won’t hurt my feelings or anything. It’s- really if you want to.” She is looking right back at him, shiny eyes wavering but holding still. Her mouth is agape ready to say something that just won’t come out. He’s pretty sure it’s a yes. From the glint in her eyes, the rose that has reached her chest, the slight but unmissable way in which her legs parted more against Taehyung. He won’t do anything until she said so though.

She sheepishly nods. It’s almost good enough for him at this point. Well, for his engorged trapped cock anyways. But apparently, Jimin’s having none of it, if the impatient smack of his lips is any indication to go by.

“What is this pretty mouth of yours for?” He asks, voice lower and Busan dialect edges striking sharply to their ears. A mischievous glint dancing from a stare to another has Jimin giggling. “‘Course. But what else is it for?”

“Speak.”

“That’s right. So baby, tell us, do you want it or not?”

“Yes.”

“What is it that you want?” Her gaze is dark now, throwing daggers at her boyfriend who doesn't budge the slightest to avoid them. Taehyung follows the exchange with a growing fondness. She really is cute. Jimin not so much right now. Even Taehyung would call him a little shit. “You think I’m being mean babe but I’m not.” He is saying this with the most blatant grin, discrediting completely his claim. “Taehyung doesn’t know you well, yet, does he? Therefore it’s important for him that you’re clear with what you want and what you need. So you’re gonna look at him-“ Pinching her chin, he tilts her head gently for her to face Taehyung's. “-and you’re gonna tell him clearly what you want him to do to you.”

“I- I’d like you toeatmeout.” The words are barely understandable and Jimin's tongue clicks behind his front teeth. Taehyung has had enough though.  “Stop annoying her, s’good enough.”

Jimin gasps dramatically, stares at his best friend, hand raising in the air like he’s about to smack some boundaries into him but the shit-eating grin wins and Taehyung starts unfastening her pants with fingers trembling with excitement. 

Once she's naked from the waist down, he can tell she wants to shy away and he wishes he thought about it better and had kept her panties on for now. He spreads his large hands on her soft thighs, gently caressing, teasingly squeezing, attempting to smooth her down into feeling more reassured and confident in what she has to offer. Because god, does she have to offer, he thinks when he finally gets to see her.

The discovery is priceless. She looks so pretty, all pink and shiny, so shiny. There is a little hanging moment where he just stares, licking his lips without much thought, just emotions shaking him up until one thought emerges and threatens to freak him out into giving it all up.

He’s gone down twice on a girl before. Only twice. And that was back in fucking high school. He has no fucking idea how to eat pussies. Honestly. He can’t really gather all the ‘knowledge’ he’s gathered over the years from his high consumption of porn now, can he? They say it’s inaccurate and dumb but that’s all he’s got.

He then remembers what some of his hyungs had said, one of those late -or more accurately early morning- drunken conversations.

“If you wanna be good at it, you just gotta enjoy it.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You just enjoy it. Do it cause you want it, you’re hungry.”

“I’d say you eat it like jjajangmyeon.”

“What the hell hyung!”

Like jjajangmyeon. Well fuck, thanks Jin hyung. He’s then looking at her from up close. Lying on his stomach to get closer, the new proximity makes his heart beat harder. He can smell her he realizes and the thought that, when this is all done, tomorrow and the days to come, he’ll still have this piece of her in his mind that only Jimin will share, drives him a little insane. The other boys will get along, get to know her but he will have the most intimate sense of her that none of them will.

He settles, squirming around a bit to get more comfortable, his forearm ends up brushing against Jimin’s crotch and the rock hard member hidden in his jeans. Jimin hisses, while his friend erupts in a loud fit of thunder like laughter. “Why does it turn you on so much to have someone else taste your girlfriend, you weirdo?”

“Honestly, I have no idea.” They giggle like schoolboys, a part of it probably fueled by nervousness, eyes attached to one another. And as they share this intimate gaze, Taehyung feels like a complete and utter idiot to have ever doubted those tender chocolate eyes. He’d never let him down. He smiles before turning back to her.

From up close she looks even more endearing. The dim light is hitting just right to make the obvious wetness shown, it’s like it fucking glitters. And the pink so flushed, you'd think she’s been played with and abused a little bit already. He deems he gets it, what Yoongi hyung has said -not fucking moronic Jin hyung. When he sees her like that, he’s not sure he wants to taste her to make her feel good or to satisfy a curiosity and a thirst that he experiences.

Therefore, without much more thinking, without the least forewarning, he just dives in. Attaching his mouth roughly, messily, all over and licking and slurping and sucking, making out with it like a long lost lover. It’s infuriating those sensations. The thought of being so intimate with someone after such a long time of nothing. That person to be his best friend's girl, instead of seeming odd, fills him with gratitude.

And she feels so sweet. Her taste, her warmth, her trembling thighs around his head. She's the kindest gift he’s ever been granted. That's why he tries to give it his whole, not trying to keep it clean and collected. He thinks briefly that at least if he doesn’t do it right, they’ll be able to tell how willing and devoted he’d tried to be.

He’s not sure how well he is doing because she is pretty quiet. He is sure as hell enjoying his feast, as suggests his rutting against the mattress but to his disappointment, it doesn’t last. Or at least, he feels like it’s too short as after what feels only a few minutes, while the tip of his nose is rubbing against her engorged nub, she comes in a succession of charming cries, her hole seizing around the tip of Taehyung's tongue as a few spurts of her cum slip in his mouth.

He sees the way her hole is squeezing around nothing, how laboured her breathing has become now that she’s coming down, but he can’t admit that it’s already over. He kisses her clit tentatively, ready to go again but a hard pull of his hair yanks him up and away from her.

Jimin’s not even looking at him, despite the firm hold on his mop of hair. It’s painful so he doesn’t move an inch, simply watching, waiting for what’s to unfold, secretly hoping that more will be allowed for him to do in a moment if he shows himself patient enough.

Jimin, still ignoring Taehyung, is staring at his girlfriend's face, his full lips stretched into an amused grin, “I don’t remember the last time you’ve come that fast. Was Taehyung that good or were you just that excited?”

“Both.” She whispers, fighting off a smile that threatens to breakthrough. That’s funny how intimidated she still seems to feel, avoiding, for the most part, to hold his gaze for too long, speaking hardly above a whisper for only Jimin to be blessed with her thoughts. Yet, she still is spread open for him, some of her cum still glistening on his chin.

Jimin turns to look at his best friend after having placed a tender peck on her warm cheek, and he smiles fondly. The hand stuck in Taehyung's hair smooths its grip, sliding down along the back of his head, to slip under the hair so the short nails of his fingers can scratch his scalp gently.

“Thanks, Tae. You did well.”  He's petting his head like he would a good dog before he lets him go, leaning back against the headboard. “Come here.”

In a swift motion, she's up and away from Taehyung, sitting comfortably on her boyfriend's lap, taking the seat so naturally like it's undeniably her own.

Taehyung, sat on his knees, is watching, probably like a creep, with great interest. He swipes his hair back from his sweaty forehead. Is it over now? Are they expecting him to leave? They're so lost into each other, obnoxious make out noises interrupted here and there by strained moans. Perhaps he should leave. He can't really move though, and his eyes can't stop staring at the dimples of her lower back that wink at him each time Jimin's wandering hands rise her tee-shirt high enough.

“Um?” Jimin's looking at her with raised eyebrows, his palms now holding her cheeks. She leans in to whisper something in his ear. “Of course, I will.” He answers, a kiss on her jaw. She mutters something else only for him to hear. “I don't know. Ask him.”

She turns around, showing off her pretty eyes and soft cheeks which crimson has still hasn't faded out. The duality of her is making him dizzy. She looks so innocent yet sexier than anyone has ever had.

Tender kisses pressed to the side of her neck encourage her and finally, with a trembling voice, she addresses him, “Are you going to stay?” He bites back a smile.

“Do you want me to?” She nods. The grin is harder to conceal. He tries to nuance it by licking his lips, face lowering down for a second. “Then, I'll stay.”

They fit so well together. Not in a strictly practical way, it’s something more subtle. It’s in their movements. How they move along, at the same rhythm, in the same direction, both following and guiding each other. It's like their bodies are so familiar to each other, nothing is lagging, or not completely natural.

Her legs, tied by the ankles behind his back, are holding him tight against her since the moment he slipped in. Jimin slowly thrusts forward -he needs to go slow as she doesn’t handle over sensitivity very well, as he explained so himself-, a tiny whiny moan and a severe groan, and Taehyung, who’s just witnessing the scene, sitting quietly on the bed next to them, feels himself growing a fever.

“Do you like having Tae watching you ?” At the mention of his name, Taehyung's whole stature straightens up like a meerkat. Jimin is gauging his friend's reaction, the most teasing smirk brightening his face under a new sinful light. Taehyung takes it as an invitation to get closer, lying right beside her, lain on her back. Head held by his hand to see her better and take in all the delicious expressions her pretty face makes.

“Yes.” She mewls, eyes shutting close at a particularly deep thrust.

“I love watching you, ___.” His deep voice mumbles to her ear. He’s pleased to see her visibly shiver. “You look so hot getting fucked...”

“Thank you.” Both men burst out laughing while she remains there, too fucked out to be dying of embarrassment.

“You’re so cute.” Taehyung keeps on going. He finally feels like the wall between them is gone for good. The way she throws him little glances, every now and then, with sugary smiles. “So beautiful.” He adds, his big charming eyes glued to hers. She blushes to the tip of her ears. Jimin, face buried in her neck, is groaning and whispering his own collection of praises; telling her how heavenly she feels, how good she is to him, and how beautiful indeed she looks lying there taking him in so nicely.

She’s bathing in, visibly loving his words as much as his ministrations and Taehyung is so amused to acknowledge that the alleged praise kink he thought to be a unique quirk of Jimin's, is apparently shared by her. At some point, the words and the soft kisses are too much and Taehyung sees how her hands clench harder on her boyfriend's back not from his thrusts but from his compliments and he’s living it up, relishing it.

“Stop clenching so hard you go- gonna make me-“ He’s cut himself off with the weakest whine Taehyung’s ever heard from him -and God knows this guy is a full-time professional whiner.

He hasn’t come yet, neither has she, but they’re right at the edge. So close that Jimin can simply not keep his pace soft and lenient anymore. He’s pounding hard and fast, smacking his hips loudly against hers and fuck, if this is not the hottest thing Taehyung has ever witnessed. He’s sweating bullets.

“Jimin I’m gonna-“

“Yeah? I’ve got you, baby, come for me. Show Tae how pretty you look when you come.”

And that’s exactly what she does. Looking at their voyeur, her pretty eyes begging for him to watch her, she comes right around her lover's cock, in a mess of indecipherable moans. Jimin follows suit, almost instantly, squeezing her ass in his hands, messily hitting his hips a couple of definitive times.

Taehyung felt weird engaging any skinship with his friend whilst he was in the middle of his coit but when his face is laid down, half of it all scrunched up because of his chubby cheek being pressed so hard against her chest, with his peaceful, totally content expression and rosy cheeks, Taehyung can’t help but reach out a hand and tease under his chin with caresses from the tip of his fingers.

“You did well, Minnie.” He mocks to which Jimin, with difficulty, raises a hand to pinch his mate's nipple. And they start bickering. Jimin’s butt naked, Taehyung still turned on beyond belief lain beside his best friend's half-naked girl, and they fight -sort of, Jimin’s only committed one arm to the fight, and Taehyung's attacks are pretty tame by fear of disturbing her- but they do, like little kids, like they always do, until a feminine voice, strained by nervousness and something else, probably envy, brings them to a halt.

“Taehyung is still hard, Jimin.” She didn’t whisper this time. Her voice is still pretty low and soft, but the calm that comes after a crazily heavy orgasm like the two she’s experienced so far is responsible more than remaining intimidation. Nonetheless, she’s loud enough for Taehyung to hear, and he can tell she wants him to hear.

“Uh-uh,” Jimin says, returning to his position, cuddled up and nuzzling against her breast. Looking at her curiously from under, he continues. “So what? Do you wanna do something about it?” She nods, turning her lip white from how hard she bites on it. “You think you can take his cock too?” She nods again with an evident enthusiasm but Jimin only chuckles. “Baby, I think you’re getting a bit over your head. You could hardly have me.”

“But-“

“Yeah...” Taehyung starts, voice hoarse from the crazy ride his mind just has taken him during the past few seconds. He is going against what his whole being is desperately craving as he says what he believes is the right thing to add. “Don’t worry about me.”

“But-“

“___, do I need to remind you of the whole Valentine’s Day debacle? Or you want me to tell it to Tae?” Silence. “You’re not taking his dick tonight, it won’t feel good.” The Busan dialect is back. Taehyung wants to laugh at how much like a dad he sounds more than a boyfriend. Picking a look at her, he realizes she matches with her pouty lips and drawn eyebrows, alike a bratty little girl.

“Do you still wanna help me come?” She’s observing him carefully with wide earnest eyes. “I wouldn’t mind having your hand...” He’s being awfully modest. Too modest. But when he sees her eyes shine and how fast she is to dismiss Jimin’s hold on her so she can face him more comfortably, her hand already reaching for his pants, he wishes he’s asked for more -like her lovely mouth for example- she looks like she would have given him anything he dared to ask right now.

It’s been months since he thought to his very frustrated self that jerking off couldn’t do it anymore for him. Too much time on his own hands, not enough extra attention from someone else, it just left him with virtual semi-blue balls each time.

But here she is, seemingly pressing buttons he didn’t know he had, provoking shock waves to shake him while leaving his vision completely white for few seconds at a time, and he doesn’t understand how one could master in a fucking discipline such as handjobs; and what the hell is she doing that feels so much better than when he does it; and how the hell is he supposed to hold himself back long enough to actually enjoy it when it feels that wonderful.

“Fuck-“ He growls out loud because now Jimin’s at it too. He can feel her breath hitting gently his cheek on one side and the kisses left by the plump wet lips of his friend on the other side.

He blinks furiously, wondering why the world seems so blurry and shaky and if he’s not really going to lose his mind this time. He always thought he was made to do so at some point, lose it somewhere, during one of his explorations into those too beautifully eerie places he likes to visit, since his head is so airy. But he never thought he would because of a handjob from his best friend's girl and said best friend's fucking sloppy neck kisses.

When he hears him curse so heartily, Jimin raises his head up to take a look at him, beyond amused. For a second too long, they stare at each other and their mouths, pondering until in sync, they scrunch their noses, shaking their heads, “Yeah maybe not.”

“Definitely no. But uh- feels nice on my neck.”

Laughing too loudly, Jimin complies, encouraged by the hand petting the back of his hair. And then she is playing with his slit, teasing harshly he can barely take it, and she softens her second hand around his balls and a new white flash lasts longer than the other ones.

“Fuck I’m close, just- please ah- squeeze har-“ She’s already on it. “Ah yes and f-faster-“ Again so diligently she meets his needs and in a couple of more strokes, he finally comes, harder than he can remember ever coming.

Maybe he’s a bit over the top, overreacting for a simple handjob but he’s been so hard for the past hour and they’re so nice and gentle with him, her nicely accompanying his dick softening, him pecking at his ear with sweet words only Jimin knows how to use.

It feels so nice.

Nicer than everything else has ever felt.

When his heart finally calms down, and his mind is back from the outer world, he acknowledges how weird it is that they still lie so comfortably in bed but more importantly, he is the one in between the couple; how this is a unique thing that won’t happen again and the wants and urges he’s mind is currently getting clogged up with won’t happen ever.

“So now will we be hanging out all together?” Jimin asks suddenly. His tone is all cheery and jumpy, his mission's been cleared he thinks and he can already picture the three of them.

“Honestly, I think I won’t be able to look at any of you in the eyes for some times.” Taehyung answers, half chuckling.

Especially Jimin. Especially after the thoughts that crossed his mind because of this damn mouth, thoughts he really needs to annihilate forever.

“You already regret it?” She is quick to ask.

“No I- I mean it was really fun.”

“Yeah, I thought so too...”

Taehyung turns his head to his right, looking at the blushy cheeks and timid but playful smile. And there’s something there that they share. He’s not sure what the fuck this whole night was about. He’s sure he’ll wonder for a long fucking time. But maybe, eventually, they’ll sort it out and who knows maybe... wish and try for more.

Maybe not. At least he’s sure they shared something special, and that new bonding won’t fade.

“So... what’s the Valentine's debacle ?”

[sophiaholmes221b]

Sophia Holmes and the Study in Pink

Chapter Six

We stop running a few minutes later, panting heavily.

"How long do you think it would it would have taken for a man to realise he still had a suitcase in his car," dad asks between breaths.

I eye him, knowing that he already knows the answer, but is testing me. "A man would take more time than a woman because they don't tend to be so detail-orientated," I begin, and dad nods encouragingly. "I would say about five minutes away, by car."

"And where would you look if you had to dispose of a bulky item such as a suitcase?"

"A skip, most likely, but he'd need to be able to drive there. He'd look a bit strange walking down the street, wheeling a pink suitcase behind him: people would remember him. We need to find an alleyway large enough to fit a car through, which has a skip at the end of it. Is that enough to go on?"

Dad smiles at me proudly. "Your deductions are getting better - that is spot on." I give a wide smile and he nods at me. "You knew about Doctor Watson's sister, didn't you?"

I look at him in surprise, wondering how he worked that out. "Yeah, some of the scratches on the screen looked like they were made by longer nails. Obviously not conclusive proof, but there was just something... I don't know."

"Intuition?"

"Mm," I admit, unsure how he'll respond. Intuition is a woolly concept that I'm not entirely certain dad will approve of.

"I wouldn't dismiss intuition," dad says, sensing my concern. "The conscious mind takes in more information than even our brilliant minds could comprehend. Intuition is a good starting ground for finding more evidence. My mistake, though, should show you the importance of getting a second opinion: you never know what information another might have that would change your view. Remember that." I nod, glowing with pride. I seem to be awashed with compliments tonight. "Are you okay to take the main road?"

"Yeah," I say, nodding.

"Good, I'll text you if I find anything. See you back at the flat."

I nod and we split off, both heading in opposite directions. I follow the road down for about two miles, ignoring the looks from people as I sprint on past and heading down the alleyways I find on my way. The bitter air bites at my neck, so I turn the collar up on my coat and tie my scarf tighter.

As I begin to tire, I find an alley both wide enough to drive a car down and one that has a skip at the end, so I slow down to a walk as I approach it to give myself a breather.

I've always done well at school in the races - when I can be bothered. School's all a waste of time in my opinion, as they don't teach you anything of actual use, but I've always found the running club to be useful for building endurance: something that is definitely needed on most of our cases.

I know from the clothes the victim was wearing that her suitcase will be pink, but there's nothing even remotely colourful in this skip - nor any of the others I encounter as I continue down the main road. After I've been searching for at least half an hour, I get a text.

I've got the caseWe need some milkSH

I roll my eyes at the short text and the little tag at the bottom: it's a Holmes thing. Recalling passing a Tesco Extra a few minutes ago, I backtrack a little and work my way back up the high street. I learnt a long time ago that it's usually better to not let dad do the shopping; he tends to bring back all sorts of rubbish we don't need and forget the essentials.

As I walk back up the road, however, a black car flies down the road and I just catch sight of John and Lucinda - Mycroft's assistant and bodyguard - sat inside as they pass.Lucinda - or 'Anthea' as she calls herself now - was originally an assassin sent out to put an end to my uncle. However, as Mycroft tells it, he managed to persuade her to reconsider. She taught me how to shoot.

Judging on the direction the car is heading and the route it's taking to get there, I work out that he's heading back to 221B now after diverting somewhere else - his old apartment. The driver doesn't stop to let me in, so I continue to walk to the shop at the end of the road.

***

After a long row with the check-out machine which refused to accept my debit card and accused me of having an 'unexpected item in the bagging area' (which turned out to be nothing more than my phone which incidentally contains a tracking device and emergency detonator that Mycroft thinks I haven't noticed), I catch a cab home.

Dad and Doctor Watson are disscussing something in the living room when I get back, though from the kitchen I can't quite work out what. I put the milk away, then slide the kitchen door open and gasp.

Dad is squatting down on his armchair in front of Jennifer Wilson's case, his jacket off and his shirt-sleeves pushed up his arms to reveal THREE nicotine patches.

"Sorry, what are we doing?" I hear John ask from inside the room. "Did I just text a murderer?! What good will that do?"

As if on cue, his phone rings, and I head over to dad. "Three patches?" I ask him, annoyed. "You're wearing three patches!"

"I know, Sophia." He sighs. "Look, I'm sorry, I'll take two off in a minute."

"Take them off now!" I hiss, as the phone continues to ring. "You promised you wouldn't touch them!"

"I was getting withdraws!" He hisses back.

"We're on a case! You promised me that was the only high you needed." I turn away, not letting him see tear as I rub it quickly away.

Doctor Watson, momentarily distracted by the ringing phone and therefore unaware of our hushed little argument, turns back to dad, asking what he should do.

"A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone they'd ignore a text like that, but the murderer ..." Dad pauses for dramatic effect until the phone stops ringing, "... would panic." He flips the lid of the pink suitcase shut and stands up, walking over to his jacket on the other side of the room.

Doctor Watson continues to look at the phone until dad reaches the door. "Have you talked to the police?"

"Four people are dead. There isn't time to talk to the police."

"So why are you talking to me?"

Dad takes his coat from the hook behind the door and looks across to Watson. "Mrs Hudson took my skull."

"So I'm basically filling in for your skull?"

"Relax," dad says as he swings his coat back on, "you're doing fine." Watson doesn't move.

"Well?

"Well what?" Doctor Watson asks, looking confused.

"Well, you could just sit there and watch telly."

"What, you want me to come with you?"

"I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud. The skull just attracts attention, so does talking to Sophia when she's spouting her own conclusions."

"I am here, you know!" I say, trying to cover up my worry over dad.

Doctor Watson smiles for a second, not saying anything but wanting to.

"Problem?" dad asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, Sergeant Donovan," John says and I groan. What's she said now?

Dad looks away in annoyance. "What about her?"

"She said ... You two get off on this. You enjoy it."

"And I said 'dangerous', and here you are," dad says coolly then strides out of the room and I follow.

"Patches!" I sing in his ear. I'm a little shorter than him, but I'm slowly catching up. He frowns at me but takes them off.

It takes Doctor Watson a little while to catch up with us, and we walk down the street together.

"Where are we going?" Doctor Watson asks.

"Northumberland Street's a five-minute walk from here."

"You think he's stupid enough to go there?"

Dad and I smile expectantly. John doesn't understand the logic of a serial killer. "No – I think he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They're always so desperate to get caught."

"Why?"

"Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That's the frailty of genius, John: it needs an audience." John looks pointedly at us.

"Yeah." I laugh, now recovered from the patch scare, "don't I know it!"

Dad ignores the remark and spins around to study the road and the pavement surrounding it. "This is his hunting ground, right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go." Dad clamps his hands to either side of his head. "Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

I can think of a few, though they'd need narrowing down. Public transport and shops. Transport is my most likely conclusion at the moment.

"Dunno. Who?" John asks, and dad shrugs.

"Haven't the faintest. Hungry?" Dad lowers his hands and leads us into Angelos, a small restaurant at the top of Northumberland Street.

Billy gestures us to a reserved table and winks at me. I know a little while back that he had a thing for me, but it seems he's got over that now.

"Thank you, Billy," dad says as he slides his coat off and slides into the booth at the front of the shop. As John and I take our seats, dad nods to a building down the road. "Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it."

"He isn't just gonna ring the doorbell, though, is he? He'd need to be mad."

"He has killed four people," dad points out.

" ... Okay." John is saved by Angelos arrival, who seems extremely pleased to see us.

"Sherlock." Angelo says, shaking hands with dad. "Sophia, it's lovely to see you again. Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free," he says, laying a few menus out. "On the house, for you two and your date, Sherlock."

"Do you want to eat?" Dad asks John, ignoring Angelo's remark. I look down at my lap, embarrassed about the mistake that everyone seems to be making.

"I'm not his date," John says to Angelo.

"This man got me off a murder charge," Angelo tells John, and I try to work out whether he's changing the subject or acting as dad's wingman.

"This is Angelo," dad introduces, as Angelo offers his hand to John and they shake. "Three years ago I successfully proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking."

"He cleared my name."

"I cleared it a bit. Anything happening opposite?" dad asks, looking outside.

"Nothing," Angelo says, before looking to John again. "But for this man, I'd have gone to prison." Definitely wingman-ing.

"You did go to prison," dad points out, but Angelo ignores him.

"I'll get a candle for the table. It's more romantic."

"I'm not his date!" John yells after him, indignantly, as dad puts his menu back onto the table and looks across to John.

"You may as well eat. We might have a long wait," dad says as Angelo comes back with a small glass cup containing a lit tea-light. He goes again, but not before giving John a thumbs up.

"Thanks!" John yells, tetchily.

"Sophia, do you want anything?" dad asks me, and I raise my eyebrows at him. He knows I never eat whilst I'm on a case - I'm like him. "You need to eat something today - you haven't eaten for days."

"I'll have something later!" I insist, and he leaves it. John orders some food, but dad and I just stare out of the window and across the road - looking for anything out of the ordinary.

"People don't have arch-enemies," announces John, out of the blue.

It takes a moment for dad to realise he's spoken and finally looks around. "I'm sorry?"

"In real life. There are no arch-enemies in real life. Doesn't happen."

"Doesn't it? Sounds a bit dull."

"So who did I meet?" John asks, but dad ignores him. I assume he's talking about Mycroft. Mycroft does like to be mysterious and dramatic - another Holmes family trait.

"What do real people have, then, in their 'real lives'?"

"Friends; people they know; people they like; people they don't like ... Girlfriends, boyfriends ..." I take a sip of water, silently pleading him to move off the topic.

"Yes, well, as I was saying – dull," dad mutters, but his eyes tell a different story as he looks out of the window.

"You don't have a girlfriend, then?" John asks. I clench my fist under the table, my nails biting into my palm to try and distract myself.

"Girlfriend? No, not really my area." I realise how that must sound to John, but he only means that he's married to his work.

"Mm," John says as he chews on his food, and it takes him a few seconds for the statement to sink in. "Oh, right. D'you have a boyfriend?" He asks, looking at me as if wondering how I'm possible. Dad looks around sharply. "Which is fine, by the way," Doctor Watson recovers quickly. I look desperately at dad; I can already see how much this is hurting him.

"I know it's fine."

John smiles as if he's trying to reassure dad that he's not being judgemental. I don't know why he keeps going on about it.

"So you've got a boyfriend then?"

"No." Dad replies, his eyes still determinedly fixed on the window so that he doesn't let any emotion slip.

John continues to smile, but it's becoming more and more fixed and awkward. "Right. Okay. You're unattached. Like me." He looks down at his plate, seemingly running out of things to say. I wish he would; this is hurting. I never deduced John as being gay, but I'm starting to believe I might have missed something. "Fine," he clears his throat, "Good."

John continues to eat, and dad turns to look at him suspiciously, as if trying to work out what he was meaning, but then he turns his attention back to the window again as another tear slips down my cheek. Today seems to be the day for painful memories. I'm going to have more nightmares again tonight, that's for certain.

After a few seconds, dad seems to have registered Johns meaning and turns back to face him. "John, um ... " He begins, awkwardly, "I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I'm flattered by your interest, I'm really not looking for any..."

"No." John interrupts dads babbling and turns his head to clear his throat. "No, I'm not asking. No." He secures his gaze onto dads. "I'm just saying, it's all fine."

Dad looks at him for a second, then nods. "Good. Thank you." He turns his attention back to the street as John looks away with a bemused expression on his face.

Dad used to think he was asexual before he met mum but, unlike what most people believe, he's actually demisexual meaning he has to have an intense emotional connection before even considering a sexual relationship. However, this often means he gets mistaken for being bisexual because he can get sexual urges with either sex.

A taxi pulls up outside the building that dad gestured to earlier, waking me from my thoughts, but nobody gets in or out. There's already a passenger inside, and he seems a little puzzled about why they've stopped. It almost confirms my theory earlier on public transport being the key to the murders, but before I can suggest it to dad, he nods to the window.

"Look across the street," he says. "Taxi." John twists around in his seat to look out of the window at the cab. "Stopped. Nobody getting in, and nobody getting out. Why a taxi?" He mutters to himself. "Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?"

I smile at him. I think he's reached the same conclusion as me, but recent events are muddling up his logic.

"That's him?" John asks, stating the obvious as usual.

"Don't stare." dad tells him, causing John to look around at us.

"You're staring, and so's Sophie"

"We can't all stare." Dad gets to his feet and I follow, throwing on my coat and scarf as I head for the door. He puts his coat on outside the door, his eyes still secured onto the taxi. The passenger continues to look around before he looks back at the restaurant and at us. Dad and I hold our gaze with him before he turns back to face the front and the taxi pulls away.

I immediately start to run after it, narrowly avoiding being hit by a car in my haste. Dad and John vault over the stopped car, and I realise that Doctor Watson has left his cane back in the restaurant. It takes me a few yards before it dawns on me that it's physically impossible for me to catch up with the cab, so instead, I try to work out an alternate route we can take. Dad and John stop beside me, one after the other.

"I've got the cab number," John informs us.

"Good for you," Dad says, bringing his hands up to his head as he also focuses on a mental map of London. I memorised the cab number when we were in the restaurant, and there was no doubt dad did too. "Right turn, one way, roadworks, traffic lights, bus lane, pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic lights." Dad says out loud and quickly.

After working out the route the taxi will take, I lift my head and see a man unlocking a door to a building nearby. That would lead us to the roofs, and from there we can cut off the taxi from its destination.

Dad, obviously seeing the same opportunity as me, races forward and pushes the man out of the way before bolting into the building.

"Oy!" The man yells as I run past him, and I hear John mutter an apology as he sails past. I take the stairs two at a time, John struggling to keep up behind me. He may have forgotten about his injury, but he is still relatively unfit.

"Come on, John," dad calls as we climb the circular metal staircase, me hot on his heels.

As we reach the top, dad runs over to another set of stairs which lead down the side of the building. I sprint after dad, my greatcoat flying out behind me. At the bottom of the steps, I vault over a rail and leap the gap in between the buildings. Without stopping, we run the length of the building before jumping another, bigger gap. I hear John stop behind me to look down at the fall he would take if he failed, and the gap between us grows bigger.

"Come on, John. We're losing him!" Dad yells and I hear John land the other side safely.

We run the length of the other building before flying down some more stairs and onto a ledge before we finally drop, one by one, into a darkened alleyway. In my head, I can sort of work out both the route we're taking and the one the taxi's taking, and in doing that, I can see our destination - it's not far from here. I can see we're closing in on the taxi as we swerve down numerous alleyways and finally down the one that leads to D'Arblay Street. I speed up, but the taxi passes the end from the right. I hear dad let out an exclamation of anger from in front, and we continue running, turning right without breaking stride.

"This way," dad shouts but instinctively John turns left, after the taxi. "No, this way!"

"Sorry," John yells as he turns back around and heads back in the opposite direction, now following us.

There's a new place that I've worked out we can intercept the taxi, and I think, at the speed we're doing, we might just succeed. We head down two more roads, through a side street and across a footpath before finally reaching the interception point at Wardour Street. Dad hurls himself across in front of the taxi and it screeches to a stop as he slams his hands into the bonnet of the car. I dig into my pocket to find Donovan's ID badge and I flash it at the driver before joining dad at the right side of the cab.

"Police! Open her up!" dad shouts, panting heavily as he opens the door, but I groan as I take in the passenger's appearance. He looks out anxiously at us and dad straightens up in exasperation as John catches up with us. "No," he sighs and leans down again to look at the passenger. "Teeth, tan: what – Californian?" I look down at the luggage in front of the passenger. LAX to LHR; Los Angles International Airport to London Heathrow Airport. "L.A., Santa Monica. Just arrived." He straightens up again, grimacing.

"How can you possibly know that?" John pants.

"The luggage," I say, gesturing down at it.

Dad turns back to the passenger. "It's probably your first trip to London, right, going by your final destination and the route the cabbie was taking you?"

"Sorry – are you guys the police?" The American asks, looking more confused than ever. Dad flashes his badge, and I copy.

"Yeah. Everything all right?"

The passenger smiles, flashing his perfect white teeth. "Yeah."

I turn and walk away as dad pauses, considering how to finish the exchange. The hairs on the back of my neck rise and I turn around to find the cabbie watching me intently and, as we lock eyes, he winks. Instantly, I start making deductions about him. He lives alone after his wife left with his kids but he still loves them. His clothes - at least three years old judging by how worn out they look, yet still laundered: he wants to keep up appearances but isn't bothered with keeping up with the fashion. All in all, a fairly normal cabbie.

The taxi driver seems to hear my conclusion because he smirks and shakes his head in disappointment, turning his head back around to face the road.

"Welcome to London," I hear dad say before he walks away, leaving John staring blankly at the passenger for a moment.

"Er, any problems, just let us know." The man nods and John smiles, shutting the cab door.

I join dad's side as he taps a message to Angelo and John starts to walk over to us.

"Basically just a cab that happened to slow down," John says as dad pockets the phone.

"Basically," dad replies.

"Not the murderer."

"Not the murderer, no," dad replies, exasperated at his mistake.

"Wrong country, good alibi."

"As they go," dad says, as he switches the ID card from one hand to another.

"Hey, where - where did you get this? Here," John asks, reaching for the card. "Right," he says as he looks down at the card. "Detective Inspector Lestrade?"

"Yeah. I pickpocket him when he's annoying. Sophia has Donovan's, so you can keep that one, I've got plenty at the flat." John nods as he looks down the card again before lifting his head, chuckling quietly. "What?"

"Nothing, just: 'Welcome to London'."

I smirk and dad laughs softly, but my smile drops as I look down the road. A police officer has gone to see why the cab has stopped in the middle of the road and the American is talking to him ... and pointing down at us.

"Now we're in trouble," I say, nudging dad so that he looks down the road.

"Got your breath back?" Dad asks John.

"Ready when you are." We turn around and start running back to our flat before we get arrested for impersonating a police officer, again.

[moonbokrk]

MGA Season 5 - Episode 1 Callback Audition - Singing and Rapping Performing: RED - JMVOK ft. Yoon Heeseok and So Jihyuk (00:00 - 01:36 and 03:08 to 03:17) Outfit: x Hair and hat reference: x Mentioned: @ericxrk, @rkyoona, @yuzurk, @rkxbin​, @rkharuto​, @rkpjihyo​, @rkars

‘You have made it through to the callback auditions for this season.’

Even though he’d had confidence in his initial audition, having known that he’d improved a lot in the last year, there was still that niggling sense of doubt in the back of his mind. The thought of ‘I’m still not good enough for this’ that would plague him for the next two weeks when Moonbok was unable to get to sleep. So when the confirmation email arrives, he feels a little bit of the tension within him ease.

On the morning of the callback, he stares at himself critically in the mirror, clothes strewn around the room as though he’d ransacked his closet trying to find something to suit the occasion. (Which, to be fair, he did.) When he’d been at home for the weekend, trimming his hair and letting Chaewon color it so it looked like ‘mermaid hair’ (her words, not his) had seemed like a good idea at the time. And don’t get him wrong, he still loves how it came out, the greens and purples blending in wonderfully with his own dark hair. But Hyun Bin’s words about his looks last year make Moonbok uneasy. He doesn’t want to be giving off the impression that he was using his hair and good looks to progress through the competition again this year. He truly wanted to be remembered for his performances and the effort he’d put into them, not just for his mistakes and for being ‘that long-haired rapper.’ With a groan, he simply turned his back on the mirror and dressed himself in the outfit he’d found the best sutible; not overtly casual like what he’d worn for the preliminaries, but not so formal as to stand out even more. Plopping his favourite hat onto his head, he made a face at his reflection.

“Let’s try not to screw things up today, alright?”

                                                           --------------------

Arriving at the venue, Moonbok’s eyes widen at the amount of people who made it to this round. He was sure there had only been about half as many people this time last year. Eyes roving amongst the crowd, he quickly finds Changbin and engages him in conversation, both of them laughing at how all of odd soc managed to make it to the callback. Before long, he’s caught by Yoona, his cousin almost beside herself from nerves. Though he can’t help but grin and tease her a little.

“I guess you didn’t do as badly in the interview as you thought you did, noona~” 

While they all loiter around waiting for the go-ahead to enter the set, Moonbok tryies to get Yoona to calm down a little before he spies a younger girl who’s winding her hair around her hands and generally also looking very panicky. Managing to extricate himself from Yoona’s hold for a moments, he goes over to the other girl, understanding her feelings completely. He does his best to provide some comfort; once she introduces herself, he remembers Sihyeon as someone who’d been an active twitter commentator during the last season and joking tells her that there’s no way she can do any worse than he did.

Eventually, they’re allowed onto the set to take their seats and Moonbok can’t help but laugh as he sees the layout, 50 chairs on tiers on each side of the stage, and the judge’s table in front of them all.

“Have we wandered on to the set of Produce 101 or something?” he jokes, unable to stop himself from noticing the similarities to the other popular survival program. Taking their seats, Moonbok does his best to hide a wince as Yoona’s hand clamps down on his almost painfully. At least he’s distracted from his own nerves, but he’s afraid that if his cousin grips him any tighter, she’ll actually break his hand. 

“Noonaaaa..... I still need to be able to use my hand after this, come on! It’ll be alright, if I could survive this round this last, than you can--”

Anything else Moonbok plans to say is cut off by the sound of a collective gasp causes Moonbok to tear his eyes away from his cousin and to the stage where, unsurprisingly to him at least, the five CEOs were making their way to the table. And while he was unsurprised, Moonbok could exactly say he was at ease either, swallowing hard. Even after being in this position last year and having performed in front of Tiger JK at the Triple Threat Challenge a few weeks ago, he can’t help be slightly intimidated by their presence. Luckily his attention is diverted by Yena, whose eye he manages to catch and he waves in response to her thumbs up, returning her mouthed ‘good luck!’

The first few performances are entertaining, and Moonbok can’t help but be amazed at Eric’s performance, and not just because of the younger boy’s attire. (How had he been let out of the house like that?!) He could never remember the boy having performed to a song by a boy group, knowing how much the younger was obsessed with girl groups. He’s impressed by his showing though, and is proud of the younger for trying the rap, even though he knows it’s far from being his specialty and applauds loudly when Eric returns to his seat.

He cheers loudly when Yoona delivers her performance, but yelps in shock as she trips on the way back to her seat. Luckily, she doesn’t seem hurt, but that doesn’t stop Moonbok from chiding her gently.

“Noona, be careful, please. Uncle would end me if you hurt yourself.”

She isn’t the only one to fall either. When Haruto crashes off the stage, Moonbok leaps out of his seat with an panicked “oh crap, is he ok?!” feeling like he was one of the few that wasn’t laughing at the other’s misfortune. He’s about to dash down to the stage and check for himself if the boy is injured or not when Haruto manages to get back to his feet and make his way back to his seat. Still, Moonbok’s worried expression doesn’t fade and he has to be tugged back into his seat by Yoona.

“Jang Moonbok!”

After what seems like both forever and in no time at all, Moonbok’s stomach lurches and his heart skips a beat as his name is called out by Hyun Bin. Of all people to call him to perform, it had to Hyun Bin, the man who’d eliminated him last year. Swallowing hard, he squeezes Yoona’s hand one last time before making his way to the stage, schooling his expression into what he hopes is calm and collected, even as his heart hammers in his chest.

Reaching the stage, he quickly pulls his hat off in order to bow to the judges and his fellow contestants, smiling despite his nerves as it finally kicks in that he’ll be performing for an audience once again, that he’ll soon feel that rush kick in again.

“Hello, I’m Jang Moonbok! I participated last year, but I was eliminated very early on...” He trails off, forcing himself to stare straight ahead at the camera before collecting his with again.

“I hope I’ll leave a better impression on everyone this year, though! I’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. It’s called Red and I hope you’ll like it.”

His brief piece said, he takes a step back as the music he provided begins. He closes his eyes for a moment, counting down the seconds in his head for his cue to start before throwing himself straight into his performance. No more hanging back, not now.

When I see this pitch black night As I look at the breath and words I long for I can’t just stay still today I wish I can do what I want just for today

One year later and sometime he feels like he hasn’t made much progress on his path in becoming an idol. Failed to be scouted during Halloween, never receiving a callback after TTC, sometimes he wonders if this is a sign that maybe he should just give up. But the thought galls him; he’s sacrificed too much to quit. Besides, he still has odd society to support him, his friends in various companies waiting for him. Here, once again today, he can try to make his dreams come true.

I don’t know you know me?

There is a dance to go with this song, it had been choreographed for him, Jihyuk and Heeseok. But without the other two there, Moonbok doesn’t feel confident enough to attempt it. Instead, he strides across the stage with the mic in hand, truly unable to stay still, but always making sure he can be heard.

I’m placing you in me If the world is prettier than you, that’s incomprehensible In just a few days, the mystery keeps growing Biting between day and night The sign of love is getting tainted

He can’t help but let his thoughts drift to Jihyo and he almost wishes he’d told her that he’d made it to the callback, or had even entered the competition at all. Involuntarily, a smile creeps onto his face as he raps. What they have is still something of a mystery, but at this stage, he's in no hurry to try and change anything. But at the same time he doesn’t want whatever they have to be tainted by anything, not even pity. Which is why he has to get through this round.

Fill me up with your color Without any spaces, hold me tight Just tell me, whatever you want Pour it out, don’t let anything remain Girl you got that

The rap turns more melodic now, somewhere between his own style and actual singing. Moving across the stage with the beat of the music, his previous nerves are forgotten for now. Instead, he thinks back to when he’d called to Jihyo’s house a few weeks ago. He’d been earlier than planned and had got a glimpse of the girl bare-faced. Though she’d quickly banished him to the kitchen to wait while she made herself up, Moonbok hadn’t missed the small smile she’d given him when he’d sincerely complimented how she looked. It was nice to see a softer side of Jihyo and Moonbok hoped she’d let him see more of it.

Returning to center stage after his striding in time with the beat, he replaces the microphone in its stand and Moonbok lets his gaze scan the judges’ face. Their expressions are unreadable, but he hopes that he’s making a good impression. Quickly taking a second to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear and without missing a beat, he continues on, this time staying put.

You’re so bright, yeah It’s burning red Tell me what you want yeah Tell me what you need girl Even if it’s in a cave I’ll go inside

He’ll do whatever it takes, not just to achieve his dream, but to make everyone around him happy. To make Youngjae laugh in a way that isn’t sarcastic for once, to give Yoona a reason to be proud of him when her father bitched about him at every turn and to show his parents that they didn’t have worry about his future anymore. That no matter what was coming, he had a plan.

You are like red Like red Right now I want to get closer to you Yeah We are like red Like red So bright, I’m amazed Whenever I see you

He’s glad they’d had an intensive week of singing classes in SNU the other month, it makes singing these high parts much easier. While he wouldn’t say he's good as Heeseok or Jihyuk, his voice isn’t cracking and stays stable. He hopes that when (if) this is aired, they’ll enjoy how this sounds with just one performer.

Or else they’ll roast him alive. One or the other.

You make me sing it La la la la la Yeah La la la la la you win it La la la la la la la la You make me sing it

This was only supposed to be a filler part while Moonbok had tried to think of better lyrics, but Heeseok had liked it so much that he’d insisted on keeping it, going so far as to force Moonbok and Jihyuk to record it with him. The lyrics were dumb and made Moonbok cringe internally, but the memories of the three of them make him grin again and he sings with gusto, thoroughly enjoying himself.

Having fun was half the battle, was it not?

Being blind with love Makes me crash into a wall of emotions Then that makes me realize How I hate you cuz I can’t live without you Like a mirror, you’re looking at me too It’s fire but just a small candle that’ll extinguish easily Your heart goes from a bright torch to a cold street light You get angry and twist your words I get burned by you and scarred It was all just playing with fire

When he’d written this part in particular, he’d thought he’d been rapping about Kyungri or Jihyo and all the things that could go wrong, his pessimistic nature rearing its head yet. But as he returns to rapping, his hands moving to the flow of his voice without an conscious input, he can’t help but wonder it’s about himself.

All those parts of himself he couldn’t stand, the cocky Moonbok who’d played with fire the year before and got so badly burned it had almost been the end of his dream. The pessimistic Moonbok who always assumed that he was worth nothing and didn’t deserve the praises he got. He was actually scared of how he could twist his own words to make them into a rod to break his own back. His emotions begin to take over again, but it just turns his rapping fierce and his expression even more determined. 

There were parts of himself that he hates and wishes he could erase, but they’re what makes him Jang Moonbok. And no matter how difficult it might be, he has to accept those parts if he wants to succeed. Not just in the MGAs, but in the competition called life too.

When I see this pitch black night As I look at the breath and words I long for I can’t just stay still today I wish I can do what I want just for today

He finishes with a repetition of the first verse, but with a slight softer and more hopeful tone, slowly coming back into himself. It wasn’t as long as he’d hoped, but quality counted as much as quantity did, after all. As the music fades, he smiles and bows once more, hand on his hat to keep it from falling to the ground. Straightening up again, he addresses the judges a final time.

“Thank you for listening to me, it was an honour to perform this song in front of you all!”

Smiling once more, he makes his way back to his seat, but nearly jumps out of his skin in fright as a sudden ‘YAAAAAS!' rings through the set. Laughter rings around the hall and after a second, Moonbok joins in as he realizes it was Eric that had called out to him. At least he had the approval of someone. Waving to the younger boy, he ducks back into his seat, face red and grinning.

He’d done the best he could. Now all he can do is wait and hope for the best in return.

[Word Count without lyrics: 2,290]

[ruwithmeguys]

(These are just my own personal; thoughts: you may take zero seriousness in them - I may add to this)

So… John. Right.

Give me a moment…

There’s a lot, so much, to dig into here. It feels good to be talking about OTA, especially after months of newbies weirdness.

I need to air this out.

I posted something recently about my love for this show even with its many weaknesses. I still love it. I enjoyed 6.17, as god awful as it was to see Oliver being dragged through the mud again. I also don’t agree with Diggle; not with his words, because he didn’t suggest a thing: he has 100% made a decision about Oliver and it isn’t a good one. The path he’s decided to travel down however… is.

Bear with me?

For a while now, it’s been very clear that Arrow is the kind of show that gives good results but can’t seem to get a handle on the journey there. The journey often sucks: it’s either badly written, angst for the sake of angst, sacrificing character progression or just something you don’t want to see.

Best examples are: Oliver’s 7 episode lie leading to the Baby Mama drama, just to set Olicity back awhile because they knew S5 wouldn’t be the last season. The newbies drawn out reason for blaming Oliver for leaving the team just so that they could bring it up every 5 seconds for 5 episodes straight. LL’s BC arc where Sara was a plot device and then the arc died and nothing came of it.

It’s not always like this. There are good examples.

Tommy’s death led to the entirety of season 2. Olicity’s star-crossed season: a literal entire season near-dedicated to it and the journey was sweet etc.

But there have been enough moments for me to know that I might hate the newbie arc several episodes before it started. Too many components + little time = question-marks.

The term, ‘the ends don’t justify the means’, seems to only pertain to Oliver on Arrow… and Felicity. In a way, that’s a compliment to her. They’re equals. Of a higher status. But for the most part, it’s unfair. And every season it seems to be the theme. Make Oliver loose everyone, one way or another.

The newbies lashed out time and time again, then hurting John when all they really wanted was out from under Oliver’s shadow. John is ready for more, ready for weight, but he gets it by hurting his best friend 6.17. BS has killed people both for pleasure and to save her skin and yet, has received no consequence (though having Quentin’s stalker-like obsession with trying to force his daughter’s personality on her, might be deemed one) because you can’t change an individual who doesn’t see the issue with their own actions.

They all do it, all reaching for progression, more often than not by throwing Oliver’s mistakes in his face, but why do they get to get away with that? And why is Oliver the target for their choices?

Unfortunately, since I’ve been wondering about this since the start of S3, I know I won’t get what I want. Maybe not ever, but definitely not now. But this isn’t why I’m talking about this.

The point is, I understand where the writers and show runners are taking Dig. We should enjoy it greatly. But he’s done it, deliberately, by pushing Oliver into a dark corner and that’s left a bitter taste. It didn’t need to be this happy, peppy thing. But why use Oliver as a source of blame for wanting a change? For wanting more?

He lashed out. There’s a reason for it beyond plot device - it was probably one of the worst ways they could have done this.

Dig. Is. Done. With. OTA.

With being a member and not a leader.

Let’s put it into perspective.

For 6 years John has covered Oliver’s back, has followed orders and has joined in the making of them. He’s agreed/disagreed with Oliver and stood back as Oliver saved the day or made the wrong choices. But for the first time, in 5.23, John was physically and irreparably hurt by someone fixated on Oliver. Diggle and everyone else, was stranded on an island because a mad man wanted Oliver to suffer.

A mad man who’s father Oliver had made the decision to kill years before.

Not for the first time, John’s life was affected by Oliver. But for the first time, John has a reason to feel resentment. Because of Adrian, he could no longer shoot a gun, making his only real life vocation – being a soldier in some shape or form – mute. Null. Done. Imagine the fear. Fair or not, in his head Oliver is at the centre of that.

For several months, he kept it from people because he couldn’t face the very real possibility that he might be made redundant. That he was unreliable.

A very SELFISH decision (keep this in mind please). The wrong decision. But it was also, understandable. He’s human and he was terrified of letting people know. It’s why he’s forgiven later on. However.

Oliver gave him the suit and something small, grew large in John.

It had nothing to do with the suit and everything to do with what it entailed. In John’s opinion, Oliver ‘gave up’ being the Green Arrow. This was so wishful thinking. 

It wasn’t permanent. But he hoped it was and acted like it was and decided that it was. Without talking to anyone. It switched a light on in Diggle; he realised what he wanted and he thought Oliver was giving it to him… because he thought - wished - Oliver had seen that he’d lost the efficacy to lead.

Now this is where it takes a slight detour from understandable to egocentric.

After being given the title, he does everything he can to keep it. He takes drugs, gets addicted. After seeing Felicity’s chair-arc being so quickly and neatly (unrealistically) tied up, we all knew the same would happen here and it did. But it left John with a feeling. Oliver had stepped away… for reasons Dig deems selfish now.

Now, when I found that out I flipped my shit because, dude – you have a family too? You left the team too?? You’ve prioritised your own wants/wishes above everyone else’s more than once??? Why doesn’t it apply????

But for Dig, it’s also about Oliver being spread too thin and, well, years of things left unsaid. Years of memories being seen in a new light and when you have to do that you validate things, it gets a little screwy.

John has very clearly had things building up inside him. Maybe it’s just been this season. Maybe it’s been longer but for sure, Adrian Chase plays a part in this.

It doesn’t give him the right throw any of it back in Oliver’s face when he was an active participant in every single thing that’s happened over the years. Oliver even says it:

“When did all these magically become my decisions? I seem to remember you. Right there. Next to me.”

And he says a few other things too:

“My trail of bodies didn’t include my own brother.”

Whelp. Normally I’d be all – TOO FAR OLIVER – but Dig started this unfairly. Prepare to meet even colder truths dude. It’s not a nice feeling is it?

John waited for Oliver to hand back the title of GA because deep down, he thinks Oliver can’t hack the leadership role anymore and you know what? Maybe he can’t. Maybe he has spread himself too thin. Maybe he needs to re-evaluate. But who is John to make that decision?

The problem is that John has lost faith in Oliver’s ability to get it back. That confidence. And if he’s lost faith in Oliver then, how can he stay?

And so, a fight ensues.

And so, Oliver finds out the truth: his best friend no longer has his back, because suddenly, John doesn’t think Oliver is a good leader. Suddenly he knows better.

Now, we all figured that John’s NEED to be GA was something beyond the mask. Either, he wanted to be more than what he was and he was feeling repressed. It was residual anger at being hurt by Oliver’s enemy (in which case, it would be solved by the end of 6.17). Or… it was EGO and the hood was just a symbol of something else. I didn’t want it to be the latter.

Of course, that means it would be the latter.

David mentioned 5.08 recently. He said that DIggle was the GA and that it was interesting but it didn’t necessarily mean the suit. It meant being a hero by himself. He also said - for people who have hated his line about 5.08 being the dream reality - was that Oliver was able to make right his wrongs to LL who, after his father, he felt the most guilt for. That literally was the title for S5. Make right his wrongs.

CONFIRMATION IS BEAUTIFUL.

Ahem.

In a way, maybe it’s all three but it definitely leads closer to ego.

It’s a legitimate reason too, wrapped up in this steady feeling of disapproval he’s been passively omitting since the start of S6. Not the one we necessarily wanted. Not a good one. But it’s a legit reason. And it doesn’t tarnish Dig’s character exactly. What it does do, is diverts John’s trajectory away from OTA. But it adds an element of… is it superiority, selfishness or the kind of judgement he only threw at Oliver once (4.01)?

But the writers put Diggle on a pedestal, one we’ve enjoyed: he’s Yoda. He’s supposed to see the wisdom and rightness of everything. He’s supposed to be fair. He’s not supposed to do this.

I’m glad he did. (I mean, where was his story headed save in a cycle?)

I’m NOT glad about how he did it. 

How he did it was cruel. And utterly undeserved. Ugly, even.

I mean, he had to remind Oliver of the death of William’s mother as a way of justifying his reasoning. It’s almost conceit isn’t it? 

When I mention ego, I mean this: Dig got a taste of what it meant to be in Oliver’s shoes and found that he not only liked it, but developed a sense of self that can be likened to pride or arrogance but is actually growth overshadowed by the brutal way he puts it forward.

But it’s supposed to be negative.

We’re not supposed to see this well... YET.

Maybe next season the writers/show runners etc will allow Oliver to succeed and for the blame to be thrown at someone else but this year, I think it’s about Oliver being a hero… alone.

With Felicity in his ear, yes, but: alone.

Like season 1, but inverted.

Dig’s ready to move on but it looks more like he’s disappointed in Oliver… for not being great? For having more than one vocation? For trying? I mean, at least acknowledge that.

And he does, to a degree. He tells Oliver that ‘it’s true that you’ve become a better person’. Gee. But, in becoming a better person he’s become a worse leader… because of the methods he used to become a better person?

Wow John. Didn’t realise two months as Oliver after taking drugs makes you the guru of leader-hood. In fact, seeing him as the leader of the team made me see all the ways he shouldn’t be the leader of THAT team. Another team, sure. He’s a good leader. But not the right person.

(I mean, it’s hugely hypocritical to tell Oliver he’s a bad leader when John was taking drugs as the leader. When he put people in danger because of it. But sure, Oliver’s a bad leader.)

That being said, John already had a wealth of experience before the very first season of Arrow. As a solider and a leader, just not a vigilante. Now he has both so maybe he feels righteous in believing he can do better, but did he have to walk over his best friend to do it?

That fight last night wasn’t just ego; it came from anger. Resentment. Disappointment. A six year build of opposing beliefs. I’ve felt this very passive aggressive impression from John/David throughout season 6 so far, so when details for 6.17 came out, I thought the worst. This isn’t just a team split, this is permanent guys.

Don’t worry; they’ll get their friendship back… eventually. Not yet, because they both said and did things that hurt far too much for it to happen all at once. But I’m not sure he’ll ever be in the team again.

We’ll have OTA too at some point (S7?). But after this, Dig re-joining as a team member would undermine his clear wish to grow beyond the parameters his character’s been given the last few years. It’s good that they’re having him join Argus. More SL’s for characters we care for.

And… didn’t Oliver mention it (his words and actions) being out of character?

Which means, it’s deliberate. THEY KNOW. The whole thing. They know we’ll hate it. They’re doing to keep them all apart, to make it more a bad thing at the moment, to give Diggle more story - but most of all - they’re doing it to make Oliver rise ALONE. With Felicity, sure; but still alone.

And I think they’re aiming for Diggle to start his own team. Maybe the new Suicide Squad? He’s worked with them before. The point is, we’ve got these two alpha males who can more than handle business and unfortunately, Diggle’s SL could no longer grow in the basement, not when he can be more.

He needs to spread his wings, a development I’m all for. Imagine Argus and Olicity working together in S7?

But they’ve made it come at a cost: it makes a lot of us look at Diggle and think, ‘why the hell would you do that?’

It all stems back to how his injury made him feel months ago. And when you’re alone in your hurt, you’re an outsider. You see things differently to others and he’s seen a side to Oliver that he doesn’t like.

But he’s not just turning away from Oliver; he’s turning away from Felicity. From Diaz. And that wasn’t necessary. He’s put himself first but only after lecturing Oliver on his selfishness.

He’s allowed to fall down.

But he’s metaphorically and literally crapped on the last 6 years of their work – not by walking away – but by throwing decisions that they all made and blaming the results and ramifications solely on Oliver and used it to explain his need to leave.

Yet he also made a good point: he makes us and Oliver think of how other people see us as opposed to what we want them to see. It’s the rudest awakening. He can’t grow being there with Oliver. Some people know in seconds what they need. Others take 6 years. 

I’m down for this.

It’s supposed to be a big shock: that Dig suddenly does this. Says things that he wouldn’t normally say and though Oliver does address that, John’s reason wasn’t enough for me. I don’t think we’re supposed to be ok with Diggle at the moment. And I’m not.

But I’m weirdly good with not being.

I need to watch the season in full before I make a complete assessment.

And I don’t think we’re supposed to be ok with the newbies either.

By giving Diggle the suit, Oliver showed faith and trust. Respect. In return, he’s rewarded with disrespect and a lack of that same faith he’d offered.

The newbies did the same.

Now Stephen and David acted their ass’s off – they give a shit about this. There’s a reason we don’t know about yet.

Remember what we were told at the beginning of S6?

Unlike previous seasons, every character would need help/advice, be lost at sea or hurt in some way. Oliver would be their coach, their anchor, their teacher.

That doesn’t just stop.

They’ve all renounced his wisdom, teachings and faith in them, found him lacking, believing him a hypocrite who isn’t as good as he thinks he is.

Now, there have been times where Oliver has been a hypocrite. When he found out about a mole in the team, his FIRST action should have been to let them know. To bring them all together and say ‘I know and I’m giving whoever it is 24 hours to come tell me, after which I will start infringing on your privacy because I have a son to think about’.

Instead, he misused their trust and even cornered Dinah.

Because of that, they lost faith in him.

He did not deserve how they reacted after the fact. 

(May I also remind that Diggle AGREED with his plan to abuse their trust? Bad leader skills Dig. Oh wait.)

He definitely does not deserve the accusations Diggle threw at him. But he does need to re-evaluate. He hasn’t made great decisions. But he hasn’t earned THIS level of scorn.

So, clearly, he’s going to be outed as the GA.

It comes back to the start of the season.

Either someone will do it to hurt him or he’ll do it, for them all but also himself. He’ll do it, because HE Is the GA. He’ll do it because prison beckons. He’ll do it to save them all. He’ll be THE hero. And he’ll face the consequences.

This season is a very reactive season. Oliver hasn’t really done any huge thing people need to be appalled at: it’s like people are looking at months, years, of choices and deciding they no longer agree with him.

The only person he’ll have on his side now is Felicity.

I’m glad she agreed with Oliver. I’m glad they showed her trying to bridge the ever-growing gap between Oliver and Diggle that’s been present since 6.07 (yup – back then). And even though he’ll lash out at her in the next episode, they’ll fix it quick because he’s going to take on Diaz alone. Not necessarily without her but since he can’t trust anyone BUT her, it will make sense to him to keep her out of it (I think... maybe??).

I hated hearing Diggle say what he said.

I hated that he thought Oliver stating that the hood was/is a part of him (of course it is) was selfish and made him a bad leader.

I hated the gap between Diggle wanting the hood to this because of the newbie arc as it left us all a little perplexed to the level of heat in Dig’s argument.

I hated another character dumping on him. Blaming him. Making it all Oliver’s fault. 

And yet... I liked the episode. I really like this season.

I don’t think they’ve sacrificed Dig’s character. I think they’ve deliberately changed it. 

I DO think they’ve made Dig say and do things that Oliver won’t be able to forgive for a while.

Oliver won’t want his help. Or the newbies help. And Felicity will be petrified, because her greatest fear is loosing him and she’s going to be forced to face it in one way or another.

It is the curse of Arrow. Eventually we are given a plot in each season that we disagree with. But it’s miles better than an episode of the canaries screaming at each other. I really did enjoy it. I’m just not on Dig’s side (though his scenes with Lyla were spot on).

And I like the idea of Diggle joining Argue and everything it entails. I’ve kind of wanted Diggle to split form Oliver for a while and I can see so many good SL’s coming from this in S7.

“If you feel the need to make someone feel less assured of themselves or have to call another person out, you may gain a false sense of superiority.” ― Kristin Michelle Elizabeth

Jessica’s ramble ends here. 

[bazilton]

unfinished x/anl/ow au fic

Inigo is late.

Inigo is late because he’s stupid and forgot that he lives with the piece of shit known as the New York City Subway, and he didn’t realize the C train was diverted until he’d somehow managed to end up in the Upper East Side of all places, which is how he found himself on the A train instead, heading back down to Times Square while frantically texting his cast mates to please don’t let a swing go on in my place, please, I’m almost there, I swear.

His only consolation, at least, is that there’s some eye candy to tide him through the arduous journey. There’s a man sitting across him on the train, tall and blonde and broad-shouldered. Probably some Wall Street type, judging by the expensive-looking suit and even more expensive-looking watch and the fact that he’s dressed for work even though it’s a bright and early Sunday afternoon. But it’s okay, because he has a chiseled jaw and pretty hair and nice eyes, and Inigo lets himself stare openly, because he’s having a shitty day and he deserves this much at the very least, god dammit.

Except without warning Hot-Guy-In-Suit suddenly looks up, and Inigo doesn’t look away in time, and so there’s an awkward moment of sustained eye contact before Inigo finally regains enough presence of mind to drop his gaze. God, that’s embarrassing. He hopes he isn’t blushing. He keeps his eyes fixed to the floor for the rest of the train ride, refuses to look up even when he can see in his peripheral vision that Hot-Guy-In-Suit is looking back at him curiously.

And so when the train finally pulls into 42nd street Inigo doesn’t even hesitate before he grabs his bag and runs, out the train and up the stairs without even a single backward glance. After all, he has a show to catch.

He makes it in time, just barely, signs his name on the cast sheet with one hand holding onto the pen and his other hand braced against the wall while he tries to catch his breath. He receives his fair share of amused looks as he makes his way to his dressing room, and when he opens the door all he can think about is wiping the sweat off his face and getting into costume. Which is why when Owain unexpectedly claps him on the back he nearly jumps right out of his own skin.

“Owain!” Inigo yells. “What the fuck?”

“That should be my line,” Owain replies, slinging his arm over Inigo’s shoulder. “What’s the matter with you? Are you a Broadway star or not?”

“I’m not,” Inigo responds flatly, disentangling himself before dropping his bag soundly on his dressing room table. Owain follows closely behind as he shucks off his jacket and moves over to the costume rack to get dressed.

“Still,” Owain persists. “I can’t believe you actually made it. I thought our production manager was going to burst a blood vessel when she found out you were running late.”

“Yeah, well,” Inigo says absently as he grabs his costume from the rack. “Wouldn’t want to get the swings’s hopes up.” He starts pulling his shirt over his head, any semblance of dignity be damned, because when you’ve been dancing since the age of five, you kind of become desensitized to the idea of seeing your fellow cast mates naked in dressing rooms.

“You live life on the edge, my friend,” Owain says, sighing dramatically. Inigo isn’t looking at him, but he images Owain’s probably clutching his head for dramatic effect. “Fine, fine, I’ll let you change. You’d better hurry up, it’s places soon.”

“Thanks,” Inigo mutters, “I totally needed that reminder.”

Owain snorts before leaving the dressing room, probably to find someone else to bother, shutting the door behind him as he goes. Inigo’s left alone to try and shove himself into a stupid suit and squeeze his feet into a pair of tap shoes as quickly as possible. When he’s done, he looks up and finds himself staring at his reflection in the mirror. He’s still flushed from sprinting to the theater from the train station, and his hair is a mess, and he hasn’t put on any of his stage makeup yet so he looks like an absolute train wreck—but then he reminds himself, I’m on Broadway. I’m in a Broadway show. That’s all I’ve ever wanted since the age of eleven, and here I am now.

And then he straightens up, dusts his shirt off, and smiles.

-

Inigo has been in three Broadway shows, and counting.

He knows he’s lucky—it’s nothing short of a miracle that he’d managed to land a role on Broadway right after graduation. It’s even more of a miracle that he managed to get cast again in another show. And then another one. Sometimes Inigo finds himself struck anew by the magic of it all. He’ll be in the middle of a quick change, or standing in the wings waiting for his entrance, or scrubbing his makeup off at the end of a grueling two-show day, and it’ll hit him all over again just how fucking lucky he is.

And sure, he’s no star. He’s no leading man. But it’s okay. He gets to dance on Broadway eight times a week. And sure, it’d be nice to be a star. But he’s not. He’s a dancer.

And he gets to dance. And that’s more than enough for him.

-

The only thing Inigo loves more than dancing is meeting fans at stage door after a show. No matter how tired he gets he always makes sure to put on his best face afterwards, maneuver his way through selfies with teenage girls and smile while signing Playbills. There are always different types of fans: the seasoned veterans who come bearing vintage merchandise from the original 1954 production, the badly-dressed tourists who look far too excited about everything, the starry-eyed, slack-jawed theatre kids with big dreams and even bigger potential.

Even if the fans aren’t necessarily there for Inigo specifically, even if they don’t know his name, Inigo still loves being able to talk to them, look at their faces, listen to them enthuse about the show. It’s humanizing, in a way—being able to interact directly with audience members. It’s a reminder as to why exactly Inigo does this: the electricity of living in the moment, of knowing that there really is nothing more special than a night at the theatre. And. Well. Inigo also really likes flirting with people at the stage door. It’s fun. He doesn’t care if it’s earned him a bit of a reputation in the Broadway community. It’s harmless, and all the better to make himself memorable, he thinks.

Sometimes, though, there are really awkward stage door encounters.

Stage door starts off perfectly normal that day. Despite almost being late Inigo hadn’t faltered at all throughout the entire show, so he thinks he’s allowed to feel a little bit proud of himself for that. That’s probably why he’s in a particularly good mood as he makes his way down the line, smiles for photos, signs Playbills, says thank you for coming at least fifty different times.

And then he reaches the end of the line, and Hot-Guy-In-Suit is standing right there.

“Oh,” he says.

“Oh,” Hot-Guy-In-Suit says.

“Are the two of you acquainted?” a woman standing next to Hot-Guy-In-Suit asks, looking amused. “I didn’t know you knew anyone in this show, Xander.”

Hot-Guy-In-Suit (Xander? That’s probably his name, right?) turns to her, frowning. “We, ah. Met briefly,” he says.

The woman smiles like she’s just heard a joke no one else understands. Xander’s frown deepens. She turns to Inigo, presses her Playbill into his hands.

“It was a wonderful show,” she says earnestly. “My brother here and I really enjoyed it.”

“Your brother?” Inigo asks, smiling back. He uncaps his sharpie, signs his name on the corner of her Playbill. “And for a moment I wondered if you were already spoken for,” he adds, because he can’t help it.

“Oh, no,” she says, throwing her hair behind her and laughing. “And neither is my brother, just in case you were wondering.”

“Camilla,” Xander hisses under his breath. The tips of his ears are faintly red. It is actually ridiculously endearing. Inigo turns to him, smiles, extends his hand.

“Would you like me to sign your Playbill too?” he asks.

The glare Xander’s been throwing at his sister softens as he turns to look at Inigo. There’s a beat of silence where the both of them just look at each other; then Xander hands his Playbill to Inigo, and Inigo drops his gaze, dutifully signs it. He pauses, considering, and then adds the words for Xander right underneath his autograph for good measure.

“Thank you for coming to the show,” he says, handing the Playbill back to Xander. “I really appreciate it.”

Xander’s eyes widen as he looks at Inigo’s inscription. He looks up again, meets Inigo’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he says. “It really was an incredible show.”

And Inigo gets compliments like that all the time, but somehow he finds himself faintly embarrassed. He hopes he’s not blushing.

“Thank you,” Inigo manages to get out, smiling at Xander and Camilla. “It was nice meeting the both of you,” he says, waving awkwardly, and then excuses himself.

It’s only when he’s halfway through the long train ride home that he says, out loud, “Why the fuck did I do that?”

The girl sitting next to him gives him a weird look. Inigo ignores her.

This is all the New York City Subway’s fault. Fuck hot guys in suits, but most of all, fuck the New York City Subway.

-

Inigo resolves to forget about the whole thing. After all, he’ll probably never see Xander or Camilla ever again unless they come to see the show a second time, which probably isn’t going to happen anyway, so it’s fine. He’ll just never speak or think about it ever again, and it’ll be fine.

Which is why the first thing he does is to tell Severa all about it.

“He was so hot,” Inigo moans, lying down on the floor of the dance studio they’ve rented out for the day. Severa towers over him, looking down at him with her hands on her hips and a look of unmistakable disdain fixed on her face.

“I literally do not care,” Severa says. “At all.”

Inigo sighs. “Why am I even friends with you?”

“I ask myself that question every single day.”

Actually, the real answer to that question is that Inigo, Severa and Owain had all been in the same dance program in college, and they’d been the only tolerable people in a sea of pretentious assholes. They’d stuck together purely out of necessity at first, and then somehow managed to become actual, proper friends, and now here they are today.

Both Owain and Inigo ventured into musical theatre right after graduation. Severa was the only one who ended up applying to dance companies. She’s been with the same one for three years now, some avant-garde up-and-coming modern dance company. It’s small and fairly new, but that has its perks too, because Severa’s been able to choreograph a few pieces of her own and land herself some really impressive solos in the short span of a few years. Honestly, she’s probably the most successful of the three of them. Inigo’s really proud of her, although he’d rather die than admit it out loud.

Which is how they’ve ended up here today, bumming around in a rented studio space in the middle of SoHo on a Monday afternoon.  She’d dragged him over to help her out with a new dance she’s choreographing, and Inigo agreed because he’s a good friend, but. Well. There are more pressing matters on his mind right now.

“You don’t understand, Severa,” he groans. “He was… he’s so…”

“And so your instinctive response was to flirt with his sister?”

“Look, I never said I make good decisions when it comes to matters of romance—”

“Good, because if you ever said that, it would be an outrageous fucking lie.”

“Okay, now that’s a little bit harsh—”

“Do I need to bring up your latest ex again?”

“Listen, Peri wasn’t that bad—”

“She had hair like a Harley Quinn cosplay attempt gone wrong and ran a blog on Tumblr where she photoshopped flower crowns onto serial killers.”

Inigo opens his mouth, and then shuts it again.

“Point,” he says at last. Severa just rolls her eyes at him.

“Inigo,” she says, using her patented I’m-trying-to-be-patient-here-but-you’re-a-complete-fucking-idiot voice. “You made a fool out of yourself in front of one hot guy that you’re never going to see again. Big deal. Just move on. They invented Tinder for a reason.”

“I just want to add that I met Peri through Tinder.”

Severa kicks the back of Inigo’s head. He whines, sitting up and rubbing at the bruised spot while putting on the most betrayed look he can muster.

“Look,” she says. “I didn’t call you here so you could complain to me about how single you are, okay? Are we going to dance or not?”

Inigo thinks he could probably argue, but then decides it’s not worth it. He gets up, dusting off his clothes and turning to Severa with a grin.

“After you,” he says. Severa shoots him a glare, but slowly, it softens into a smile.

“Alright,” she begins, already turning towards the mirrors. “So I was thinking…”

-

Inigo walks out of that dance session with Severa feeling a lot better than before. In the following week he recklessly swipes right on Tinder, does a full eight shows with only very minor hiccups, signs a bunch of Playbills, and goes on a date that doesn’t end with his dismembered body being flung into the Hudson River. All in all, it’s a pretty good week.

So on Tuesday afternoon he finds himself running to the nearby Starbucks after a matinee show, ready to grab a cup of coffee. He has a couple of errands to run before heading back for the evening show, and he’s preoccupied with thinking about how long it’ll take for him to get back to his apartment and whether or not he’ll have to time to drop by SoHo and say hello to Severa for a bit. Which is probably why he doesn’t notice he’s about to walk into someone until he quite literally runs into them headfirst.

“Shit,” he says. “I’m so sorry—”

And then he looks up and sees Xander staring right back down at him.

Severa’s voice echoes in his head. You’re never going to see him again, she said.

Clearly, Severa is a complete fucking liar.

What are the odds? he thinks. This is quite literally the worst day of his entire life.

“Are you okay?” Xander says, breaking the silence.

“What? Oh.” Inigo realizes he’s still standing way too close. He takes a step back, blinks rapidly until he feels like he’s at least somewhat capable of rational thought again. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine! Are you okay? I’m sorry, I should’ve looked where I was going—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Xander says.

More silence.

Shit.

“So what are you doing in the area?” Inigo asks, and then winces. Smooth, Inigo, he thinks. Real smooth.

“I had a meeting nearby,” Xander replies, and well. He’s still standing there, holding a cup in one hand and a suitcase in the other. And he’s not running away in the opposite direction, which is. A good sign, right?

“Sounds riveting,” Inigo says, and Xander smiles. Inigo’s heart does not flutter at the sight of it. It does not.

“As riveting as a business meeting can possibly be, I suppose,” Xander says.

[jacknicholson1963]

Further cuts to the fleet in “the year of the Royal Navy” ?

Recent headlines about possible further body-blows to the Royal Navy are an indication that the terrible state of Ministry of Defence finances is starting to bite. Here we look at what could be cut, what could be the impact on RN capability and the potential political fall out.

The defence review that is not a defence review

The Cabinet Office led by Mark Sedwill, National Security Adviser, is currently conducting a “Strategic Defence and Security Review Implementation” it is supposed to be looking at how the decisions made in 2015 fit with the current global security environment. In reality, it is an exercise in desperately trying to find ways to reduce a £20 Billion gap between the funding the MoD will receive and the money it is committed to spending over the next 10 years.

The Defence Secretary has demanded each of the three armed services offer up “efficiencies”, ie. capabilities that could be cut in order to make savings. The RN is in a slightly different position to the other two services because the majority of its programmes are large and politically untouchable. Of its three core elements, the Continuous At Sea Deterrent, (CASD), Carrier Enabled Power Projection (CEPP) and Amphibious Capability, the Royal Marines and amphibious ships have always been most vulnerable to the axe. Trident renewal is thankfully non-negotiable and there is too much political, industrial and economic capital tied up in the carrier programme, (including F-35 and the new frigates).

To maintain its operations and existing equipment plan, the RN is now short of between £350 – 500 Million a year. It has already agreed on the early retirement of 2 minehunters, HMS Atherstone and Quorn, but there are very few other options available for cutting. There are plenty of rumours and speculation about what may be cut next. Thankfully it has been confirmed that a Daily Mail report HMS Scott was to be axed is false. She does have serious engine problems but there is a plan in place for her to be upgraded and retained. HMS Scott does not just conduct hydrographic surveys, but also generates oceanographic information which is key to the operation of the nuclear deterrent and anti-submarine warfare.

Take your pick from our menu of cuts

Further cuts of some kind are almost certainly coming, although no definite decisions have been made. A reduction of 200 Royal Marines to release funds for more sailors has already been agreed and Marine training has already been considerably scaled down. The Times reports that 1,000 Royal Marines could go and both LPDs HMS Albion and Bulwark could also be axed, almost removing the RN’s amphibious capability entirely. The RN has already been operating with just a single LPD, one in mothballs or refit while the other is active. HMS Bulwark worked very hard during her last period in service but it now in mothballs, while Albion has just emerged from a two-year £90 million refit. These ships have proved to be very versatile platforms that have conducted all sorts of operations beyond just training for amphibious warfare. It should also be remembered that the loss of HMS Ocean combined with the loss of HMS Albion and Bulwark would call into question the future of Devonport naval base and could create a political storm in Plymouth and the South West.

The exact nature of how we may conduct amphibious warfare in future is open to discussion as many consider assaulting the beach in small boats from an LPD in a vulnerable position, close to shore is now just too dangerous. Some argue we should conduct assault by aircraft alone, preferably expensive V-22 Ospreys flying in fast from the ship well out to sea. Unfortunately, there is still a need to get heavy equipment ashore that cannot go by air. Provision of logistic support for troops by air alone for a sustained period is not realistic. Even the recent relief effort, Operation Ruman in the Caribbean has proved again the need for afloat ship-shore capability. This debate over what is called “assured access” is complex but not an excuse to get rid of HMS Albion and Bulwark. Once a ship is gone it is also very difficult for the RN to argue for a replacement (See also the case for keeping HMS Ocean in reserve).

Blame it on the carriers – simplistic scapegoating

Many critics try to blame budget problems on the RN leadership for choosing to build aircraft carriers. This is a completely backwards way to view such a cornerstone conventional capability and which was part of a prudent strategy started in 1998 to build a balanced fleet. The cost of the CEPP is considerable but in fact, it is not the biggest item on the MoD books, the Army will have the largest share of the 2016-26 equipment budget. The RN recognises that without carriers it is a second division navy, its ships and those it maybe protecting are inherently vulnerable without organic air cover. As we have discussed frequently, the strike carrier also has vast utility beyond protecting amphibious operations. Cuts to either the carriers or amphibious capability would be strategic nonsense. Carriers are needed to protect and participate in landing operations and we need both as they compliment each other. Will Taylor has written an excellent piece on the utility and value for money that amphibious capability delivers.

Axing 28 brand new Wildcat helicopters would be an extraordinary step and a sign of desperation.

The Times also reports that the RN’s Wildcat helicopters are being considered for sale. Such a move would leave the RN’s escorts ships short of a key weapon. The Wildcat carries the new Sea Venom and Martlet missiles, the only anti-ship missile that will be fielded by the RN between 2020-30. The torpedoes dropped by Wildcat may also be the only means to prosecute submarines. The RN’s 30 Merlins HM2 helicopters are already grossly over-worked and have too many tasks.

The Trident solution?

We applaud government commitment to maintaining the nuclear deterrent, the cornerstone upon which UK security rests but how it is funded is contentious. In 2010 the chancellor George Osborne managed to move the full cost of Trident into the core MoD budget this was the start of another wave of problems. Although the defence secretary at the time Liam Fox protested, Osborne got his way. At the time this bombshell was almost overlooked by many overshadowed by the carnage of the 2010 SDSR, but as the costs of the Dreadnought submarine programme ramp up in the next decade, this is a big underlying pressure driving cuts. A radical solution would be to return the costs of CASD to Treasury reserve where it used to be. This could be implemented over a period of years so the Treasury could adjust. This would be a fair and sensible solution as Trident is a political and national security overhead that quite reasonably should be treated as being outside the conventional defence budget. Defence campaigners might have more success arguing for this large single and easily-understood measure than uncoordinated one-off campaigns to save specific units, ships or establishments.

Admiral, it’s entirely up to you which of your arms you must to cut off

The devolved budget system has the enormous political advantage that cuts can be portrayed as the choice of the service. This allows the underfunding to downplayed and cuts portrayed and merely the service making sensible choices to “live within its means”. The First Sea Lord is accused by some of “not defending his service”. This is disingenuous as no one wants to cut capability and officers do not have the luxury of publicly criticising Ministers or demanding new money. Instead, he should be commended for trying to maintain morale and momentum while being failed by his political masters.

Fundamentally the problems come down to a lack of money for defence. Although the defence budget is rising by 0.5% above inflation this is not nearly enough to compensate for the long-term underfunding and mistakes of the past or the rising costs of virtually everything. There may have been colossal waste and mistakes in the past but that does not solve the problems of today. The Defence Secretary recently showed a little backbone for the first time and admitted that the target of 2% of GDP on defence may not be enough and “we should do better”. Whether he has the guile or ability to actually obtain more money in a divided cabinet and a weak government remains to be seen. While there is certainly a case for overseas development aid, an obvious solution would be to divert funding from DFID’s generous budget to the MoD, which is often involved with aid operations anyway.

At a time when the world is more dangerous than ever, Trump expects Europe to pay its way and Brexit Britain must look outward, cuts to strength are the opposite of what we should be doing.

Paying the political price

Having nailed his colours to the mast by calling 2017 “the Year of the Royal Navy”, Michale Fallon would be in an awkward position if the year ends with him disposing of high profile ships or a big swathe of naval strength. This is not just a numbers game or pieces on a chess board but the future security of a nation. David Cameron has admitted that one of his biggest regrets from his time as Prime Minister was his decision to cut the aircraft carriers in 2010. Mrs May and Mr Fallon should be mindful that axing the Royal Navy’s amphibious capability could be a mistake of a similar magnitude they could come to sorely regret. If new money is not found for defence quickly, then the 2017 “review” could be seen as undoing the positive aspects of the 2015 SDSR and a failure comparable to the 2010 debacle.

  Related articles

Threat to marine landing ships and navy helicopters in defence review (The Times)

Strategic Defence and Security Review Implementation (Gov.uk)

Trident costs will be met by defence budget (The Guardian, 2010)

Aircraft carriers – are they too expensive? (Save the Royal Navy)

from Save the Royal Navy http://www.savetheroyalnavy.org/further-cuts-to-the-fleet-in-the-year-of-the-royal-navy/