#instead of college i was thinking maybe he left to start auditioning and stuff and try to get into an agency

[superzstars]

╰   *  very rarely did jian step foot in his hometown, let alone see all the ghosts of his past. his mother demanded his presence for his father's birthday and she was making it a big family affair and he knew better than to argue with his mother. dreading it enough to just go back, let alone see them. worse? them with their best friend. he must have been living some horrible nightmare, mentally pinching himself until he woke up but he was still standing in front of both of them. god, why did his mother even invite the two of them to this stupid event? "engaged? great. no, congratulations. i hope you're happy," spat out but he wasn't even looking at either of them, he was staring at one singular spot on the wall behind them. "i think i need a drink." @trxuvaille

[asterlark]

ok. samwell college of music au. i wrote all four years let's go babey

eric bittle is this lovely southern tenor (sounds kinda like mitch grassi or ben j pierce) who posts covers (& sometimes originals, but always with neutral or no pronouns because he can't post anything that says he or him ☹) on his youtube channel and has major stage fright but is very talented; he also plays ukulele

he got into samwell college of music on a voice scholarship and his dad doesn’t exactly approve but eric was never the 6′2″ masculine football player he wanted anyway so why not go for his dreams

he auditions for the very competitive samwell men’s contemporary chorus (there’s like 20 choirs; chamber choir, jazz choir, a cappella groups (lax bros do a cappella), combined choirs, etc- smcc does contemporary pop/rock music) and while he’s very very nervous and shaky as he auditions, directors hall & murray see a lot of potential in him (with major grumbling from student director jack)

(the rest of this ridiculously long au under the cut)

the group is small, for a chorus, because the point of the group is not a wall of sound but a focus on all of the very talented guys’ voices coming together in these gorgeous harmonies and basically they’re like one of the best choruses on campus and all the male singers want in

so there’s jack zimmermann, who of course eric knows because everyone knows who he is, he’s the son of bob and alicia zimmermann, both incredibly talented and famous musicians, and basically those genes were in his favor because he’s mega fucking talented

(jack was supposed to sign a recording contract to be in a band with his best friend kent parson when he was 17 but something happened between them and the pressure was too much and jack overdosed on something- there’s so many rumors no one knows what’s real- and kent signed solo in LA & went on to win grammys for his albums about a mysterious ex and jack disappeared for a few years to be a counselor at a music camp and reappears at samwell, knocking everyone’s socks off again like he’d never left, except with a renewed vigor and intenseness that freaks everyone out)

jack is a contemporary writing & production major, freaky talented and sings like a modern day frank sinatra, and he plays like 20 instruments and can read music like breathing air and writes songs like if he stopped he’d die; his music is folksy and mournful and he plays all the instruments on his tracks himself- guitar, piano, strings, drums- it sounds like a full band but nope. just jack. he’s intense

“we all get nicknames in this choir,” justin informs eric on his first day, “we’re those kinda guys.” so he’s bitty, which he finds vaguely offensive (bc he’s not that short!) but still cute, & the rest of the group is introduced to him:

“shitty” knight (voice like colyer) is a musical education major and an enigma of a singer with this awesome, earthy, raspy voice that’s really interesting to listen to and a very.... unique style & look; he writes cheesy but shockingly good raps about social justice topics and he will sing-lecture you if you’ve said something offensive (he also plays banjo)

justin “ransom” oluransi is a music business & management major with an angelic voice you can’t help but listen to; he’s sultry and has an incredible range and does runs like nobody’s business (with a voice like daniel caesar or leslie odom jr UGH)

adam “holster” birkholtz is a voice performance major, wants to be on broadway and it’s all he ever goddamn talks about basically, he’s a belter and has a lot of charisma and starpower and he’ll charm the pants off of you within one note; can also play piano and irritates everyone constantly because his regular volume is like a level 11 (voice like the frontman of my brothers and i combined w/ x ambassadors lead singer)

larissa “lardo” duan is at the local art institute because performing arts is not her jam and she’d much rather paint; she’s a barista at annie’s and supervises open mic nights and keeps the annoying choir dudes from driving away all her patrons

“i’m not even in your dumbass choir,” she says when the group gave her her nickname. holster just told her that she was an honorary member and then started sing-shouting a song at her about how good she is

bitty’s first year is hard because he’s talented and he works hard but he shies away when anyone asks him to sing outside the group and like, he can sing to a camera by himself but being on a stage with everyone looking at you and the sole responsibility of the song on your shoulders is terrifying and no thanks

jack does not. understand this. he’s been performing practically since he came out of the womb and he doesn’t really get performance nerves (what he gets is anxiety about how he did after he gets off stage that follows him home and makes it so he can’t sleep) - so he bothers bitty about it constantly like “you just need practice, you just have to sing by yourself a lot and then you’ll get over it” which like.... that’s true but it’s also hella scary and bitty’s like “no thanks!!!!”

but jack’s annoying and intense so he makes bitty do open mic with him every saturday night and it’s going okay and bitty loves his choir and loves his school and these new friends he’s making and he finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them during his second term

then during their spring choral showcase at the end of his freshman year bitty has a solo and he’s worked really hard on it and he’s feeling good- okay he’s completely freaked out but he’s trying to feel good- but when he gets up on stage there’s so many people and the stage lights are so hot on his face and he flips out a little and maybe he passes out from anxiety and stress right on stage and it’s terrible and he’s so embarrassed and ashamed that he ruined their set at the showcase

of course jack blames himself because “we shouldn’t have given you a solo before you were ready, i misjudged it, i’m sorry” - and they all feel kinda bad bc holy fuck they didn’t know his stage fright was that bad like they didn’t know someone could pass out just by being anxious to sing

he practices all the time over the summer and goes to his local open mic at jack’s insistence and it actually helps a lot because instead of a sea of strangers judging him it’s a bunch of people he knows and they’re all smiling at him and when he finishes his song they cheer for him and it boosts his self-confidence a lot

his sophomore year they have three new members- chris ”chowder” chow (voice like ieuan), an excitable music education major with impressive rapping skills, derek "nursey" nurse (frank ocean or leon bridges type), a songwriting major who can also play violin and guitar, and will ”dex” poindexter (like tom west), a production & engineering major who tried out with chowder bc he needed moral support and didn't expect to get in but impressed the directors with his voice

the year’s going pretty good, bitty’s still pretty scared of singing alone but more confident now and the open mic nights with jack haven’t stopped, so he’s getting better. and one night they’re hanging out at annie’s after closing waiting for lardo to be done so they can walk her home, and bitty suggests that jack sing with him one of these nights, and jack says he doesn’t know any of bitty’s songs and bitty says they can write one together half jokingly but then jack is like “yes.” with that Intense Look

SO they get together a couple days later in jack’s room at the house they all live in together (bitty moved in at the beginning of the year after previous smcc member john johnson called him- how’d he get his number?- and told him he could take his room if he wanted), jack with his guitar and bitty with his ukulele, and it’s a little awkward until bitty says jack should play him one of his songs

and, okay, he doesn’t really know what to expect because the only music jack ever released to the public was that one single he did with kent parson when they were 17 so bitty doesn’t even know if he has anything to play him, but he does- he starts playing these soft, sad notes on the guitar and opens his mouth and sings about being lonely and scared and unsure, about false starts and shaky ground and not knowing where you stand with someone, about expectations and lying awake at night and wishing so hard you were someone else, and bitty watches him sing and just kind of... realizes he’s head over heels for this boy and internally Freaks Out a little

he tries to put that aside and they start to write this song, at first it’s weird because jack’s like “all your songs are love songs i can’t really relate to happy love songs” and bitty’s like “listen... i’ve never even had a boyfriend i just write a bunch of sappy love stuff because it’s not about me it’s about whoever’s listening to it, they’re gonna project their own experiences on my music anyway so it doesn’t matter if it’s my real life or not” and jack’s like “alright while fake af that’s smart and i respect you” (what bitty doesn't say is that he writes about what he really wants which is to fall in love & be in a happy relationship)

they say they’re just gonna write this kinda vague sad song but they both secretly write lines about their actual lives so it ends up being really personal and real and raw for the both of them

they sing the song at open mic that saturday and the crowd at annie’s is never that big but they’ve never got a standing ovation here before, and some girl shouts “MAKE AN ALBUM” (it may or may not be lardo) and they both blush furiously and bitty’s like “... that was really nice, jack” and jack’s like “... yeah it was good good job you’re really getting some confidence out there nice work” (bitty: “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT AAAAH”)

around this time jack’s really thinking about what he’s gonna do when he’s done at samwell, talking with his parents and his agent and looking into different record companies and deciding if he wants to sign with anyone or possibly start his own company- the head of a small company called falcon records in rhode island has been talking to him a lot, and jack talks to bitty about how he thinks it’d be nice to start small, and the record exec georgia and the producer marty had both been really nice and welcoming, and bitty’s so happy for him but also just... sad that he won’t be around jack every day after he graduates

THEN at a haus party celebrating their win of a local choral competition, who shows up but none other than pop star kent parson to Ruin The Fun

bitty sees the way jack pales when kent walks in, notices them disappear upstairs together and feels a little sick worrying about jack but chalks it up to the highly alcoholic concoction shitty and lardo had cooked up but nonetheless decides he’s sick of the party and goes up to his room and hears.... a little too much

and YIKES he’s standing right there and kent parson, pop star, two-time grammy winner, is looking a little rumpled and staring right at him and he puts his hat on and clears his throat and snaps at jack- “hey. well. call me if you reconsider. but good luck with rhode island. ...i’m sure that’ll make your parents proud.” and jack’s shaking, and bitty doesn’t know what to do but jack goes back into his room and bitty’s just kind of standing there like What The Fuck

so.... he kind of stews over winter break but tries not to think about it too much and he and jack text a bit and jack tells him to practice and bitty’s like “oh, you” and jack’s like “im serious” and bitty’s like “>:( it’s christmas”

spring semester starts and they're doing well in competitions and they go to semifinals and then finals for a prestigious collegiate choir competition and the pressure is mounting but they all are so optimistic and really feel like they're on the same page and bitty’s confidence is better than ever and then.... they don't win

jack especially takes it very hard, but then he also has signing to worry about, which everyone helps him with and he decides to sign with falcon records and start work on an album after graduation

speaking of graduation, shitty and jack graduate and it's hard for them but harder for bitty who feels like he's losing jack in a way, he knows how intense jack gets when he's making music and it doesn't feel like he'll have any time for bitty anymore so when they say goodbye bitty goes back to the haus and listens to his and jack's song and just cries

but, like in canon, dadbob has words of wisdom to impart and jack has an "oh" moment and races across campus to kiss bitty

they get together and the next few months are spent with jack working nonstop on his album (which tbh, he'd had many of the songs written already so it's mostly recording and producing) and texting bitty constantly and coming to visit him and playing him demos of all the songs

jack also asks bitty if they can record the song they wrote together & have it as a bonus track on his album & bitty says of course, so when jack visits they set up an impromptu studio and record vocals in the guest bedroom and this deeply personal song they wrote before they were ever together means so much more to them now

and bitty is so happy but so scared and sad too because jack is playing him these songs telling him "they're all for you bits, & a lot of them are about you" and he just doesn't know how he's going to keep all this love inside even though it feels like jack's career is at stake

he tries to shove it down and stay strong though, especially since he's now an upperclassman and they're taking on new members- connor "whiskey" whisk (voice like finneas or the male singer in valley), a music business/ management major who seems to hate bitty's guts and tony "tango" tangredi (like chaz cardigan), a jazz composition major who astounds everybody with his endless questions but also his ridiculously impressive composition skills & naturally perfect pitch (he can also play saxophone??)

i want ford in this au so fuck it she is a composition major with dreams to write scores for musicals and she stars training as a barista at annie's (aka training to corral the smcc)

the pressure of it all proves to be a lot and bitty and jack have their hi, honey moment where bitty's like i can't be this deep in the closet!!! and so they tell the smcc and also jack's label that they're together and that eases things a bit

jack's album comes out to much critical acclaim and shouting in the groupchat ("#1 ON ITUNES BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!") and several months later, when smcc has already been eliminated from choral competition in an earlier round, jack is nominated for SEVERAL grammys including best album, song of the year, and best new artist

when the time comes he takes his parents and bitty on the red carpet which, everyone keeps being like "who are you here with jack?" and he's like "my family and my good friend :)" and yes it is awkward

jack wins... all three awards. it's the comeback everyone is stoked to see and when his third win is announced, he and bitty are so elated that they kiss before he goes to accept the award

his speech is basically just "um... wow. thank you. i just kissed my boyfriend on live tv. this is amazing and i'm so humbled. i'd like to thank my boyfriend and georgia and marty and my parents and my friends and my boyfriend"

obviously the press has a FIELD DAY with this but bitty & jack are honestly vibing and so happy that it doesn't matter untiiiillll bitty's mom calls and he has to tell her "mama i'm gay and i'm going on tour with jack this summer okloveyoubye"

the last few months of bitty's junior year pass quickly and he's voted student director which is a huge honor considering how much he struggled with stage fright and confidence & how he'll now be stepping into ransom & holster's shoes

r&h and lardo all graduate (the smcc basically crashes the art school graduation and all scream when lardo gets her diploma lmao), which is a bittersweet occasion and they all do a bit of tearing up

that summer bitty goes on tour across the u.s. & canada with jack and his touring band (snowy is a bassist, tater is a drummer and poots does backing guitar, he also brings nursey to play violin on a few songs) as well as georgia who's there to manage logistics

and tour is so fun & chaotic with many bi and rainbow flags in the audience that end up thrown on stage and draped around jack's neck and they spend so many nights in the bus drinking and laughing and fooling around on the guitars and bitty's uke and exploring new cities bitty has never been to before and it's the freest bitty has felt in a long time

summer ends though, and jack leaves for the uk/europe leg of the tour, and with the new school year brings a few new members- river "bully" bullard (voice like gregory alan isakov), a music therapy major who draws his own cover art for his songs, lukas "louis" landmann (like jr jr), an electronic production and design major with a penchant for EDM, and johnathan "hops" hopper (like keiynan lonsdale), a film scoring major who wants to write music for movies and video games

bitty meets and befriends some of the other student directors- shruti, sd of the women’s contemporary chorus; sharon, sd of the chamber choir; and edgar, sd of jazz ensemble (even chad l., sd of the all-male a cappella group)

senior year passes similarly to the comic; coach visits and sees one of bitty’s competitions, jack comes to madison for christmas, smcc does well in competition and goes to regionals etc

however… bitty keeps putting off and putting off gathering the songs for his senior recital

he has a hard time doing that because he’s so focused on the group and making sure they’re performing well and as they advance in competition, everything else starts to fall away

eventually the rest of the smcc has to lock away his uke and change his youtube password and FORCE him to choose songs for it and start preparing because he cannot graduate without doing this recital and doing well on it

he chooses (of course) a beyonce song, a few of his own songs, an ellie goulding song, and an adele song

with all that his breath hitches and his hands shake before he goes on stage, he does really well and his voice instructor prof atley tears up a little in the audience as does his mom

meanwhile smcc goes to semifinals, then finals, of the national collegiate choral competition they participate in

and i imagine bitty faces somewhat less homophobia in this au because i mean, he’s in the performing arts, but i think it’s still there and he also faces a good amount of classism from richer students and performers who think they’re better because they had the resources and money to be performing professionally from a very young age, and he has been practicing via filming himself on a shitty camcorder and posting it to youtube

but they still get there! and the national finals are fucking HUGE and a big deal and a little overwhelming

bitty’s stage fright is Present because this is the biggest stage and the biggest stakes he's ever had and he has a big solo in one of their songs so if he fucks up, he fucks up a national championship for his whole group and school

luckily though, when he steps on the stage with his best friends and sees his boyfriend and family and smcc alums in the audience and they perform their first song, a high-energy pop medley that always gets the crowd going, everything seems to melt away and it's just him living in this moment and singing his heart out

when it gets to the next song and his solo, he forgets to be nervous and belts it out, getting screams of approval from the audience when he finishes

(dex and nursey do have a duet together that they had to practice for many long nights in the practice rooms alone but that's neither here nor there)

their time on stage seems to last both hours and no time at all and then they're done, the crowd gives them a standing ovation and it's at least 30% r&h & shitty's hooting and hollering and jack's enthusiastic clapping that makes bitty & the others beam with pride

then it's just waiting, giddy and nervous beyond belief in their green room, for the judging to be over

after what feels like forever they're back on stage, arms linked together waiting and hoping for their name to be called and it is, they win and it feels like years have built up to this moment, and bitty tears up because years ago when he was fainting from anxiety at having to perform in front of people he never could've imagined that he'd do this, that he'd be the student director that led them to a championship

they get the trophy and a ridiculous amount of flowers from their loved ones and they all are just in giddy disbelief that this is happening, they're national champs!!! they are the best choir boys in the nation!!

they come home and the rest of the school year passes by so quickly that it's very suddenly graduation and bitty can't believe his college career at samwell is over 😢

(he and ollie and wicky take pictures together, o&w talk about how excited they are to devote full time attention to their band & wedding planning and bitty's just like wait you're gay??)

bitty got plenty of offers from record companies but he likes his freedom of creativity and he has a built in fanbase from doing youtube all these years so he decides to make an album independently (jack helps him produce & master it 🥰)

when bitty's album comes out about a year later, full of bops about being gay and in love and having struggled but come out the other side more confident than ever, it doesn't get any grammy nominations- and he didn't expect or need that.

what it does do is it resonates. it makes the rounds in youtube and queer internet circles; people his age reach out to him saying this is the music they wish they had as a kid and kids reach out to him saying he's a role model and they're so glad to have his music to listen to. his album is written about as an underrated gem that shines with queer brilliance and is sure to start a party when it comes on.

his parents may not fully understand the road he's chosen for himself but they're still so proud and promote the album as hard as any of his loyal fans (especially the one country-inspired song on the album that he wrote and dedicated to them).

and jack, jack who saw this album from its infancy to its release date, who took the film photo that ended up being the album cover, who worked with bitty to make sure his vision was realized exactly how he wanted it to be, is proud beyond words.

jack starts using his semi-abandoned twitter again to tweet "stream [album name]" every day and bitty retweets them sometimes, with just a "this boy. ❤"

and they're happy. they're good. they have come so far and they are reaping the rewards of all the hard work they put in to make the music that they truly love.

the end :)

[tefilovesreading]

It’s a match! Part. 2

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: None, language but that’s it.

A/N: LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED. 

Edited by: @theamazingtomholland​ 

MASTERLIST // PART 1 // PART 3

“What do you mean he sent you a good morning text?” Jo asked, almost choking on her toast.

“He asked for my number last night,” Y/N explained, her hands shaking while she tried to unlock her phone, “and when I woke up, I had a text from him saying good morning and wishing me a good day.”

“Damn the boy is a keeper,” her friend whistled and winked at her after she read the message.

“He told me he wanted to FaceTime.”

She sat on the stool next to where her best friend was sitting and rested her chin on her hand. The butterflies in her stomach felt more like hundreds of bees buzzing fiercely in there. 

“And you?” Jo questioned with an intrigued look on her face, “do you wanna do it?”

“I think so,” Y/N answered, biting the inside of her cheek, “he’s really cute, and I had fun texting last night.”

“Well that’s a new one,” the ginger girl joked. All their friends knew how much Y/N hated texting, leaving messages on read for days, or taking absolutely forever to respond. She always felt weird texting, not knowing very well how to keep the conversation going over text.

“Tell him you have thirty minutes, and then you have to go do something else,” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and Jo rolled her eyes, “that way if you don’t feel comfortable you have an easy exit.”

“And what if I’m enjoying it?” Jo looked at her as if she was trying to explain how the water cycle worked to a kid, “Jo I’m being serious!”

“In that case, my love, you hang up and call him again after you tell me everything.”

“Who said I was gonna tell you anything, uh?” Y/N smirked and blew her a kiss after her friend gave her an offended look.

“Whatever, Y/N,” Jo flipped her off, “just tell him your professor was sick or something like that.”

“You’re a lifesaver, did I tell you that?” Y/N kissed her friend’s cheek and then jumped off, “I’m gonna go take a shower, see you later.”

“See you later, babe,” Jo said, “don’t forget to eat!”

“I won’t!” Y/N yelled, on her way to the bathroom they shared.

Y/N: Good morning! Hope you have a great day too

She smiled satisfied at her reply and hit the send button.

Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she felt so giddy about a guy, it was exciting, to say the least. Charlie seemed like an easygoing person and really easy to talk to. Sure she was nervous talking to him, but who wouldn’t? The guy was super cute and so nice to her, she already knew she’d be crushing hard.

Thirty minutes later, she was on her way to class with time to go to her favorite coffee shop and have a quick breakfast.

Charlie: Didn’t think you’d answer me so early hahaha Y/N: I have a class in like 20 minutes, wouldn’t have woken up this early if i didn’t have class lol Charlie: So you’re not a morning person Y/N: Oh no, absolutely not!!

She smiled at the boy in the cashier and laughed softly when he asked her if she was ordering the same thing she always did.

“Oh, can you add a brownie please?” Y/N asked politely, while she looked for her card on her bag. After paying for her food, she went to one of the tables in the back.

Charlie: Noted! I swear i try to not wake up early but i can’t Y/N: I bet you’re the kind of friend that wakes everyone up with a lot of noise  Charlie: How did ya know that hahahaha Y/N: I was just guessing, but you do seem like a loud person Charlie: I am, i won’t try to deny it Charlie: What about you??  Y/N: Mmm Y/N: It depends Y/N: But my laugh is extra loud, so I can’t say I’m a quiet girl

“Vanilla latte!” Y/N put away her phone and stood up to get her order.

“Thanks, Dylan,” she thanked the boy and grabbed a few napkins before making her way back to her table. 

Charlie: I bet your laugh is really cute

Her cheeks were burning after that message, and it took her a couple of minutes to tame the butterflies in her stomach before she was able to type a response. Because as much as she wanted to laugh it off and change the topic, she knew he was flirting with her and if she didn’t flirt back, their conversation was basically dead.

Y/N: Guess you’ll have to find out yourself ;).

That was a nice reply, right? She screenshotted their chat and sent it to Jo. If anyone knew how to flirt while texting, it was her best friend.

Y/N: How does it look? Is it too much?? Too little?? Y/N: H E L P

Jo’s response was quick as always. One of the many reasons she loved her.

Jo: Girl it’s fine Jo: Stop worrying about it Jo: It’s mysterious and a good way to tell him you wanna FaceTime Y/N: Ok ok thank you love ya Jo: Love you more  

Checking the hour on her phone, Y/N finished her bagel and gathered her stuff. She waved Dylan goodbye and left the coffee shop. She spent more time than she expected to in there and if she didn’t hurry she’d be late for class. 

It was times like this one that made her regret not knowing how to drive because even if all her classmates liked the Lyft program they had for free, she still felt unsafe getting in the car without a friend.

Back in the day, when she was still dating Lance, he’d made sure to call her and talk to her during the whole ride to wherever Y/N needed to go just to make her feel safe. After all, he was never a bad boyfriend, their paths just went in different ways and they both wanted different things in life.

Charlie: Yeah i guess Charlie: What if i call you later when you’re done with your classes??Charlie: No pressure

She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks for the second time in less than an hour and had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling. 

Y/N: Sure, i’ll let you know once i’m done Y/N: But i have to say bye for now Y/N: Gotta pay attention haha Charlie: Get that degree! Charlie: Talk to you later!

Focusing on whatever her professor was saying was a hard task, she just wanted to pull her phone out and text Charlie, see what he was up to and get home as soon as possible, so they could FaceTime.

Sitting on the edge of her seat, she couldn’t help but bounce her leg to relieve the eagerness rushing through her veins. She still had fifteen minutes left, and then she’d be sprinting out of the classroom and going back to her apartment.

“Dude, do you gotta use the bathroom or what?” Sadie, the girl she always sat with during class, whispered through gritted teeth.

“Sorry,” she apologized, crossing her legs to stop herself from bouncing her leg. Although the new position didn’t stop her from moving her foot. 

“What’s up with you?” Sadie snorted once she realized Y/N couldn’t sit still.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, scribbling on her notebook the pages she needed to read for the next class, “I just wanna go home.”

“But you have never been this eager to leave this class,” the girl commented without looking at her, too focused on taking notes, “you love this class.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N let out a sigh and checked the hour on her watch, “I just don’t feel like sitting here right now.”

Her classmate didn’t make another comment about her eagerness to leave the classroom, she just nodded her head as if she was telling her she understood.

“I think that’s all for today, guys,” the professor mentioned, leaning on the desk, “have a good day, and don’t forget to read the articles I mentioned.”

Y/N hurried to gather her things and waved Sadie goodbye before walking as fast as she could to the door. She needed to leave before the halls flooded with students. Y/N considered taking the stairs instead of the elevator but knowing how clumsy she could be, she opted for the latter. Falling down the stairs wasn’t on her plans.

Twenty minutes and a mile later, she dropped her keys on the bowl next to the door of her apartment and kicked off her shoes. She checked her out in the full-length mirror Jo had in their living room and shrugged. Charlie knew she was a college student, and it wouldn’t be weird to see her wearing a hoodie with her college’s logo, also, she was comfy and didn’t want to change into something else. 

She fixed her hair and made sure she didn’t have smudged mascara under her eyes and then made herself comfortable on the couch.

Y/N: Just made it home

Y/N: That was one hell of a long class haha

She bit her nails, the nervousness kicking in while she waited for a response from Charlie. Maybe he was busy now that she wasn’t. God if their schedules didn’t let them at least FaceTime, she felt like she’d start crying and delete the app. It wasn’t like she was talking to other guys though.

Charlie: Finally!! Charlie: Wanna FaceTime?? Or are you tired?

“Fuck no,” she whispered to herself before she started writing her reply.

Y/N: Nah! Let's FaceTime

Her heart started pounding on her chest when the video call entered and the phone started vibrating in her hand.  

“Shit, shit, shit,” she cursed before putting a smile on her face and answering the call. “Hey!”

Holy shit. His pictures didn’t make him justice. 

“How you doin’?” Charlie said and her cheeks blushed.

“It’s that a Friends reference?” she asked trying to hide her smile.

“I swear I don’t mean it in that way,” he laughed, and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled made her heart flutter. “But seriously, how was your day?”

“It was good even though I hate waking up early,” the way Charlie was looking at her with so much attention, even if it was through a screen it  made her feel so confident, “I had breakfast at this little coffee shop near my apartment and then went to class.”

“But that sounds like a nice morning,” Charlie mentioned, his sweet smile never leaving his face.

“What were you up to anyway?”

“Not much actually,” he shrugged and the gesture made him look young, “I went for a run, then I had to film some tapes for a few auditions, and now I’m chilling.”

“You’re an actor,” Y/N pointed out, not even surprised about the new information he just revealed. It was Los Angeles after all.

“I am,” he smiled, and she swore she could see a pink tint on his cheeks, “I started back in Canada when I was about fourteen or fifteen.”

“Any chances I’ve watched it?” Charlie scrunched his nose and shook his head.

“Maybe, if you are into foreign films,” Y/N tilted her head confused at his answer, “It’s in French.”

“You learned how to speak in French for the movie?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows together when Charlie started laughing.

“I grew up speaking French and English,” he explained with a soft smile, “I’m French Canadian.”

“That makes a lot more sense now,” she laughed off her embarrassment, “I’m gonna blame the fact that I woke up early today. I’m not this dumb, I swear.”

“Don’t worry,” he said and the smile faded just enough for her to notice his intense stare, “I thought it was cute.”

She bit her lip at his words and tried to look away from the screen, but Charlie’s eye contact felt as if he was looking right into her soul and she couldn’t break that connection even if she wanted to. And she definitely didn’t want to do that.

tagged: @chevyimpala00067​ @samanthawilliamspring​ @searchingunderthestars @luke-patt @moneybagmgk @angisbr @happinessinthedarkesttimes @knitsessed @cordeliascrown @crybabyddl @phantompogues @the-romanian-is-bae @doaspeggy-says

[impala666]

The One With The Stoned Guy Part Two (Amuse Bouche)

Sorry it took so long! But here is the next part to the Friends Rewrite. I’m just kind of writing when I find time. Enjoy all!!!!!!

Last Part (Part One), Series Masterlist

It was the next morning and the night before was the first night where you actually slept at Bryan’s apartment, you didn’t even go to yours and Ross’s apartment. But no you found yourself walking toward Monica and Rachel’s apartment for early breakfast before everyone went off to work or in your case school and the work. “Good morning,” you cheered with a smile. Everyone in the living room bid you a good morning in return while Joey sat there and stared at you with that same sad dog expression. So Ross must have told him that you never went home. “So, I heard you didn’t make it home last night.” Rachel confirmed your suspicions, but apparently Ross just decided to up and tell everybody.

“Yeah, last night was my first night actually staying there,” you smiled brightly at her when you thought about all of the adventures that you had with Bryan.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Rachel asked as she scrunched up her face and came closer to you to make your conversation a bit more private. You were about to answer her when all of a sudden the apartment door slammed from behind you. 

“Can you see my nipples through this shirt?” Your big brother asked after he entered. He made sure to lift up his suit jacket so that all of you could have a good look. 

“No,” Rachel answered for him as she carefully looked. “But don’t worry I’m sure they’re still there.” You laughed at her harmless joke. 

“Where’re you going Mr. Suity-Man?” Phoebe asked him from her spot in the living room next to Ross.

“Well,” Chandler reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. “I have an appointment to see Dr. Robert Pillman, career counselor a-go-go.” You listened to him as you took a seat on the couch, but realized that you sat too close to Joey like you used to. So you had to awkwardly slide in the opposite direction no matter if it made you a little upset and Joey very. “I added the a-go-go.” Chandler emphasized as all of them ignored the thing that just happened. 

“A career counselor?” Rachel asked him, wondering why he was going to see this guy. 

“Hey, you guys all know what you want to do.” Chandler whined to you all as he started to get defensive. 

“I don’t,” Rachel chimed in. 

“Hey, you guys in the living room all know what you want to do. You have goals, you have dreams. I don’t have a dream!” Chandler declared. But no matter how serious he tried to come across as, you all still found it a little funny. 

“Ah, the lesser-known “I don’t have a dream,” speech.” Ross called Chandler out on his mistake. 

“Y/N/N?” Chandler asked and placed his hand on your shoulder so that you would turn in your seat and look at him. “How did you know you wanted to go to Esthetician school?” He only asked because you had taken such a big leap to follow your dreams even if it made a few other people unhappy.

“I don’t know really. I just never really enjoyed or got into anything that I was learning while I went to college. But I always enjoyed skin and skincare and makeup, so once I actually found a career in it. I just decided to go for it.” You explained. “And even though it was terrifying at first, I know that it was the perfect decision.” Chandler couldn’t find words, he was just so proud and jealous of you. He just wished that he could find something that he was just as passionate about. 

“Oh, I love my life! I love my life!” Monica cheered as she had just gotten back from an interview with that restaurant guy. She was beaming from ear to ear and it looked like it hurt. 

“Oh, Brian’s Song.” Phoebe guessed, thinking that Monica was quoting a song. 

“The meeting with that guy went great?” Rachel asked her after Phoebe’s strange outburst. 

“It was so great. He showed me where the restaurant’s going to be. It’s this cute little place on 10th Street; it’s not too big, it’s not too small. It’s just right.” Monica beamed as she shared her experience for her new job opportunity. 

“Was it formerly owned by by a blonde woman and some bears?” Chandler joked, when Monica accidentally quoted the famous nursery rhyme. 

“So, anyway I’m cooking dinner for him Monday night. You know, kind of like an audition.” Monica continued as she just ignored everything that Chandler just said. “And Phoebe he really wants you to be there,” she explained as she made her way over to the woman in the living room. “Which would be great for me because then you can make oh’s and ah’s and you can make yummy noises.”

“What’re you going to make?” Rachel asked Monica.��

“Yummy noises,” Phoebe answered instead, acting like it was obvious.

“And Monica, what are you gonna make?” You asked, changing the question to one that everyone could understand. 

“I don’t know. It’s just got to be so great.” Monica answered you as she walked over to her shelf of cookbooks to try and come up with some ideas. 

“Oh! I know what you should make.” Phoebe announced as she ran over to join Monica and Rachel in the kitchen. Almost knocking you down in the process as you made your way over to them, as well. “You should make that thing with the stuff.” Phoebe said as she sprinkled imaginary spices into her hand. “You know that...thing.” She just couldn’t think of it. But Phoebe could tell she wasn’t getting through to any of you. “Okay, I don’t know.” She finally gave up. 

“Hey, guys. Does anyone know a good date place in the neighborhood?” Ross asked, changing the subject. 

“Uh, how about Tony’s?” Joey suggested, and seeing as you used to date him you could see where this was going. “If you can finish a 32 ounce steak, it’s free.” Ross looked up at you for confirmation to see if he ever took you there.

“Yeah, no. That was the date from hell.” You felt bad for saying so, but it was true. 

“You said you loved it!” Joey whined. 

“Yeah, but we couldn’t finish because no human can, so you got upset and left, sticking me with the cheque.” He treated you like a queen, but you had to call a spade a spade. That date stunk. 

“Okay, does anyone know a good place if you’re not dating a puma?” Ross asked again as he joked at Joey’s answer. 

“Who are you going out with?” Chandler asked him with a chuckle. 

“Oh! Is this the bug lady?” Phoebe asked Ross. 

“I love you, Ross.” Rachel joked as she started buzzing like a bug and using her fingers as antennas. 

“Her name is Celia. She’s not a bug lady. She’s curator of insects at the museum.” Ross defended. 

“So a bug lady?” You asked since Ross was trying to be technical, but he knew that you were messing around. 

“So, what’re you guys gonna do?” Monica asked as she flipped through a cookbook at the table. 

“I just thought we’d go out to dinner and then bring her back to my place and I’d introduce her to my monkey.” Ross sounded like he was 100% joking but when you looked at him his face was serious. 

“And he’s not speaking metaphorically.” Chandler mumbled to himself. 

“So, back to your place. You’re thinking maybe, heh-heh?” Joey asked Ross as he implied sex. 

“Well, I don’t know heh-heh.” Ross said under his breath to Joey. “I’m hoping heh-heh. So Y/N can you steer clear of the apartment tonight.” You nodded even though you had nowhere to go since Monica had her dinner tonight and you and Joey were broken up. You would have to just go back to Bryan’s, oh well. Too bad. 

“I’m telling you-that monkey is a chick magnet. She’s going to take one look at his furry cute little face and it’ll seal the deal.” Joey promised him. 

*******

It was later in the evening, all of you were back at Monica and Rachel’s while Monica tried out some new recipes to have all of you try. Joey, Phoebe, and Rachel sat at the kitchen table. While you and Bryan sat alone in the living room. You really were surprised at how well everyone was getting along with Bryan, including Joey. They weren’t really best friends because clearly Joey still harbored some feelings, but they were able to be in a room together. That was all you could ask for. The both of you sat on the couch talking with Bryan’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. Bryan was about to continue the fire story that he had been meaning to tell you, but he jumped out of his seat when the apartment door slammed shut from an aggressive force. “Oh, my God. What happened to you?” Rachel asked, you kneeled on the sofa to turn and look who had entered. It was Chandler with his shirt unbuttoned slightly and tie loose, with a stack of folders looking he had had a day. 

“8 and a half hours of aptitude tests, intelligence tests, personality tests and what do I learn?” Chandler also seemed a little on edge. “You are ideally suited for a career in data processing for a large multinational cooperation.” Chandler read off of the test result that he had gotten. 

“That’s so great! Because you already know how to do that!” You cheered him on sarcastically. Bryan chuckling quietly as he looked up at you. 

“Can you believe it? Don’t I seem like somebody who should be doing something really cool?” Chandler asked all of you as he paced along the kitchen, half-heartedly waving to Bryan without looking at him. “I just always pictured myself doing something…something.” Chandler frowned down at the floor as he lightly stomped his foot.  

“Oh, Chandler, I know.” Rachel got up from her seat and half hugged the man as she patted him on his chest. “I know. Oh, hey! You can see your nipples through this shirt.” But Rachel’s realization did not seem to help Chandler as he turned his head and glared down at the woman. 

“Here you go. Maybe this will cheer you up.” Monica tried as she offered Chandler a plate of mini food. 

“Ohh, you know I had a grape about five hours ago. So I better split this with you.” He joked again as he tried to push passed his disappointing day. 

“It’s supposed to be that small, it’s a pre-appetizer. The French called it an Amuse Bouche.” Monica taught all of you. So Chandler took one for the team and popped one into his mouth, when suddenly he wasn’t as upset at the moment. 

“Well, it is amoozing.” Chandler joked even though he couldn’t help but get where Monica was coming from. 

“You’re friends are so weird.” Bryan said quietly to you as he deeply chuckled. 

“I know,” you beamed. “Isn’t it amazing.” You smiled at him in return and Bryan wrapped an arm around your waist as he pecked a kiss to your forehead. 

“Hello?” Monica said as she answered the phone that had started to ring a couple seconds ago. “Oh, hi, Wendy. Yeah 8 o’clock. What did we say, ten dollars an hour? Okay, great. I’ll see you then. Bye.” Monica hung up the quick phone call and you couldn’t help but notice the hurt and surprised look on Rachel’s face. 

“Ten dollars an hour for what?” Phoebe asked, before Rachel could jump to conclusions. 

“Oh, I asked one of the waitress’s at work to help me out.” You couldn’t help but cringe when Monica didn’t even realize her mistake. 

“Waitressing?” Rachel asked in surprise. 

“Uh-oh,” Joey sang as he stood up from his chair. 

“Of course I thought of you, but...but,” Monica couldn’t even think of an excuse. 

“But-but?” Rachel repeated for her, you could tell that she was starting to get a little upset. 

“But you see this night had to go perfect, you know.” Monica’s excuse was already flimsy. “And well, Wendy’s more of a...professional waitress.” She really was just digging herself in deeper. 

“Oh. I see, and I’ve sort of been maintaining my amature status so that I can waitress in the Olympics.” Rachel joked to hide her hurt. 

“You know, I don’t mean to brag, but I waited tables in Innsbruck in ‘76.” You added to try to make the conversation a bit more lighthearted. But Rachel did not find it funny at all when she glared at you, so you shrunk down and hid behind Bryan for protection. 

“Amuse Bouche?” Chandler offered Rachel the plate of food to try and diffuse the situation. You were about to kiss Bryan when he leaned in, but a voice made you jump up.

“Hey, Y/N.” Joey’s voice rang out.

“Yeah?” You asked, wondering what could be so important that he was interrupting your moment with Bryan. 

“We’re still on for hanging out, right?” He asked, you just furrowed your eyebrows at him. What game was he trying to play at? 

“Um, yeah. Sorry must have forgotten,” you tried to play it off. But even you knew that your face just read surprise. 

“Great, see you then,” Joey smiled. So then you tried to play it off with a smile, but you were breaking when you felt Bryan look at you with slight confusion.

Taglist:

@vampiregirl1797

@kellysimagines

 @shizzybarnaclee

[comebackbehere23]

2nd weirdest crossover I’ve written. I also definitely have about 4K more of this written, but this was all I could fit without reaching character limit.

“Just because our parents are married, it doesn’t mean I like you.”

“Oh, the sentiment is returned in full.”

Beca Mitchell glares at the younger girl, “Just stay out of my room, out of my business, and out of my life and we’ll be fine.”

“Fine.” Rachel scoffs. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too, pipsqueak.”

“Beca!”

Beca blinks furiously as she pulls herself from the memory and glances to her few excited acapella teammates. Everyone is watching with her with wide eyes, and all Beca can do is squirm uncomfortably as she shifts away from the looks. She knows why they’re watching her, they’re waiting for her excitement; Beca is minutes away from being reunited with her little sister and she is beyond thrilled.

“She’s here!” Flo calls from the window.

With a small smile, Beca allows her friends to pile out the door and welcome the youngest Mitchell into their embrace. Beca slowly makes her way to the front door and watches as her baby sister is stuck in a game of ping pong of hugs and kisses. As she watches, Beca can’t help but feel a little amazed by how much Rachel has grown. Not too much has changed really, she still has stars in her eyes and a smile too big for her face.

She’s still the same kid who came nose diving into her life when she was fourteen. But it’s different now, she’s different. She’s twenty and has been away at college for the last three years, she missed Rachel’s entire high school experience. She missed Rachel. Now, her little sister is here and she gets a chance to rebuild something that she knows is pretty much already unbreakable.

“Alright, alright!” Beca calls. “Let the girl breathe.”

“Rebbie!”

Beca winces, “On second thought, smother her.”

Rachel is full of giggles as she skips to her sister and throws her arms around her. Beca doesn’t bother to hide her smile, she doesn’t try to smother that part of her only her sister can bring out. If Beca is being honest, gaining a sister is the only reason why she got through her parents divorce. For the first few months, she hated Rachel but after a few awkward conversations over microwave dinners and swapping their musical passions, everything changed. She changed.

“Hey, pipsqueak.” Beca grins.

Rachel pulls away with a beam, “I missed you.”

“I missed you more. Believe it or not, there’s not a lot of people like you on this campus.” Beca teases, and Rachel simply waves her off. “Did you get here okay? How was your flight?”

“Beca, do you have actual...feelings?” Flo asks as she furrows her brow. “I thought you were much like the boy from back home who didn’t speak so they sent him to live in the forest.”

“They sent a kid to live in the forest?” Amy scoffs with a roll of her eyes. “Big deal. In Tasmanian, we sent a kid to wrestle crocodiles to prove we were a higher class.”

Stacie blinks in horror, “What happened to him?”

“He died.” Amy shrugs.

Beca slaps a hand to her forehead while her sister simply laughs, “Jesus. Rach, I promise you’ll get used to all of...this.”

“I like it.” Rachel assures her with a bittersweet shrug. “Back home, the Glee club never really accepted me for me. I-I didn’t have this. And having friends? That’s all I want. The bonus is that my friends get to become my family.”

“Don’t worry, Mini Mitchell,” Stacie beams as she bounces to wrap her arms around Rachel. “You’re here and this is a brand new start. So, how about we show you your room?”

Rachel nods happily, “Please.”

Beca watches with a small frown as Flo and Stacie eagerly swallow Rachel up in a herd to lead her into their house. As she watches her sister, Beca can sense a change. She isn’t sure what it is or what it means but it doesn’t feel good. It makes her stomach turn, and she’s determined to figure out what has happened to Rachel in the three years they’ve been apart.

“You good, Shawshank?”

Beca nods, “Yeah. Totally.”

“She’ll be okay.” Amy assures her as she claps a hand on Beca’s shoulder. “Just give it some time, yeah? We’ve got her back.”

“I know.” Beca chuckles. “Thanks, Amy.”

*

Rachel meets everyone in small clumps. She was greeted by Flo, Stacie, and Amy. Later, she was given a tour by Ashley and Jessica. After that, she had endured a quite disturbing conversation with Lilly before Beca had pulled her away. Now, she’s watching Beca anxiously stare at the front door as she waits for the important Bella to appear. And by important, Rachel can only assume that Beca is talking about Chloe Beale.

Chloe is the one thing that Beca always talked about when they would text or spend hours on FaceTime. She told Rachel about the shower, about her Bellas audition, about Chloe’s surgery, about their win at Nationals, and so on. And like any other fairytale that Beca has read her, Rachel waited in anticipation for the big kiss. For the happy ever after. Yet it never came. At least not with Chloe. Instead it came in the form of some guy named Jesse, someone Beca had only mentioned once and that was only because he has accidentally bumped into Chloe and didn’t apologize.

“Beca, I’m here! What’s so important?”

When Chloe appears, Rachel wants to slap Beca. She genuinely wants to pile drive her sister into the nearest concrete platform because Chloe is beautiful. She’s stunning. The photos and selfies Beca has sent her doesn’t do that older woman enough justice, especially when it comes to those blue eyes. Suddenly, Rachel understands just why Beca hasn’t made a move on her. She understands why her sister ended her relationship with Jesse before it could even really begin; she ended it because of those damn baby blues.

“Chlo,” Beca drawls. “This is my little…”

“Oh. My. God.” Chloe squeals. “You’re Rachel.”

“I am.” Rachel nods. “And you’re Chloe.”

“I have heard so much about you.” Chloe sighs as she sweeps Rachel into a tight hug. “Beca has a calendar that has been counting down to this day. It’s so cute.”

Beca slaps a palm to her face, “Chloe.”

“What? It’s true. Out of all of us, you are the only one with a younger sister. Can you aca-believe it? The rest of us are stuck with older siblings or smelly baby brothers.” Chloe pouts as she pulls away from Rachel. “Don’t be ashamed of how much you love her.”

“I’m not.” Beca chuckles. “I really am happy for her to be here.”

Chloe crosses the room to cup Beca’s cheeks as she grins, “You’re so cute.”

“I’m late! Oh darn, I am so late!”

Chloe pulls away from Beca in time to watch as Emily spills into the house and stumbles over the rug. It isn’t a shock to anyone when her books go flying and she lands with a thud, but Rachel is quick to rush forward to help her pick up her books. And as Emily looks up, Beca sees it. She sees the moment a spark is lit, it’s the same spark that was lit for her three years ago at that activities fair.

“Wow.” Emily swallows hard. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi.” Rachel whispers. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Uh huh.” Emily nods as she stumbles to her feet and accepts the book Rachel offers her. “You didn’t have to help. Thanks.”

“It’s no problem.” Rachel grins.

Emily sputters as she offers her hand, “I’m Emily. Emily Junk. And yes, I said junk. Like the stuff you find in the garbage...but I’m not garbage. Or at least I don’t think I am.”

“I definitely don’t think you’re garbage. At least you don’t look or smell like it.” Rachel giggles as she accepts the soft handshake. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard all about you, Legacy. I’m Rachel. Rachel Berry-Mitchell.”

Emily keeps the smile on her face as her eyes go wide, “Oh shit.”

“Yeah,” Beca snorts. “Oh shit is right.”

*

“So, are you going to help me unpack?”

“What’s the point?”

Quinn glares at her sister, “Seriously?”

“Q-Tip, I’m in the middle of finishing this project. Alex and I are halfway done and if we finish in time then that means dinner with Kara, and I haven’t done that in days.” Lena reminds her. “So, unpack by yourself.”

“Thanks. Always such a big help.”

“I allowed you to move into my apartment, didn’t I? I saved you from having to suffer through the tortures of dorm life.” Lena points out as she nudges her goggles back up her nose. “And I’m hiding your major from mom and dad.”

Quinn rolls her eyes, “I appreciate it.”

“That’s the attitude I’m looking for.” Lena smirks.

With a sigh, Quinn hauls another box into her room and looks at the bare walls. For the next four years, this is going to be her home. After begging and crying, Lena had relented and allowed Quinn to move into her apartment so she could avoid Barden’s dorm rooms. But now that she’s here, it feels so...empty. Even though she can smell her sister’s perfume everywhere and see pictures of the life she left back in Lima plastered everywhere.

No, the emptiness comes from the giggles that Lena gives as she studies with her best friend. Or the way she flushes when her phone lights up. It’s an empty sadness and jealousy that reminds her that her sister already has created a new life, she has escaped their parents expectations. But Quinn? No, Quinn is their last shot. With one kid in jail and the other gay, Quinn is their golden ticket. Their golden child. And she refuses to ruin that.

“Maybe that’s why you’re so lonely.” Quinn sighs.

And maybe, maybe it is.

[adoraang]

She-Ra Week Day 5 by @fauxghosts

Prompt: PRINCESS PROM / healing

Summary: When Glimmer and Bow bet Adora she can't ask Catra to prom before the end of the spring musical, she gets frustrated with her feelings.So what do you do when you've got a bunch of pent up frustration?You duke it out in the Denny's parking lot with your crush in a lightsaber duel.

Read it on AO3

“You’re not gonna do it.”

“I am not gonna do it,” Adora said dramatically as they stepped off the stage after finishing Act Two.

Their school, after constant begging, had finally decided to do a production of Les Miserables. After doing things like Seussical (they don’t talk about that) and High School Musical (nothing wrong with it, just mundane), the theatre department wanted something more serious. Something that would challenge them.

So they forced their director, Double Trouble, to fight with the school about doing Les Mis. Despite some of the… suggestive stuff from the show, the school probably didn’t want to fight some theatre kids, and let them have their show.

The audition process is always the scariest. Being a soprano, she only had one role really available to her: Cosette. Glimmer and Bow peer pressured her into auditioning for a lead instead of going straight to ensamble, and she still wasn’t going to do it, but then Catra asked her to do it, and she couldn’t say no.

Adora ended up cast as Cosette, and she had practically cried of happiness when the cast list came out. Glimmer had gotten Fantine, being a very low mezzo. But then Catra’s name was listed for Eponine, and she just about proposed right there.

They were far from love interests. In fact, they were love rivals. Sea Hawk was the one playing Marius, and the two girls spent the entire show in love with him, which wasn’t the funnest. Neither of them even liked boys, so for Catra’s character to die because she was delivering a letter to Marius… It was a trip.

Even if they weren’t true love interests, and only shared one song with each other that wasn’t the Act One finale, Catra and Adora still spent the most time in rehearsal together. Ironic, because the one song was called A Heart Full Of Love, and it’s Adora’s hardest song, in her opinion.

She gushed about Catra to Bow and Glimmer everyday in the car home from rehearsal. “Guys, I think my heart is full of love. Would it be weird to ask Double Trouble to switch Marius and Eponine? I’d rather spend the whole show simping about Catra then Sea Hawk-”

“Adora!” Glimmer cut off. “You’ve been halfway in love with Catra since Seussical, and I think that’s saying something. You should tell her. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“She rejects me, never talks to me again, drops out of the show, and I can’t spend the rest of senior year with her or college, since we’re both going to University of San Diego together to major in theatre, and she’ll never want to be in another role with me!”

“You’re freaking out again,” Bow childed, not turning away from the street as he drove. “You know Catra isn’t like that. And I don’t think she’ll reject you in the first place.” “I am so tired of hearing Adora talk about Catra when Catra probably likes her back,” Glimmer growled. “I’m going to do something about it.”

She reached into her pocket, and Adora almost hopped over the console. She thought they were going to call Catra and tell her something, and it was enough to make her take off her seatbelt, despite Bow’s car safety. “Glimmer, wait-”

Instead, she pulled out her wallet. “I will give you fifty dollars if you ask Catra to Princess Prom as a romantic date. I’ll double the offer if you do it before closing night.”

“An extra twenty if she says yes!” Bow chimed in.

Glimmer and Bow don’t struggle with money, so a hundred wasn’t a lot for them, but Adora’s eyes grew wide as she thought about it. Of course, it involved asking Catra out, but she’d figure that out later. “You have a deal.”

“Now please put your seatbelt back on!” Bow screeched, his voice cracking.

Which brought them to now, as they got into position for curtain call. She’d be bowing with Sea Hawk after Catra had hers with Kyle (who played Enjorlas, and it’s still shrouded in mystery how he got the role). Glimmer was one of the first to bow, but she still caught the wink as she walked away.

“That thing is huge,” Catra mumbled when she got in line backstage, waiting for their cue.

Adora looked down at her costume. The huge wedding dress wasn’t her favorite costume from the show, but it couldn’t be more appropriate for the moment (or inappropriate, take the pick). Catra couldn’t look more beautiful in her sleeveless white shirt and brown skirt that hit the floor. Despite the fact that the belt on her waist was big on her and she had dirt slathered all over her, she’s never looked better. Plus the red cap… That stupid thing was going to be the death of her.

“It’s always been like this,” Adora replied, falling into her place next to Sea Hawk, who busied himself with Kyle. Her heart thumped with the question. She doubted Catra had feelings for her, but she could always ask as a friend. Not like Glimmer and Bow needed to know anyways…

Bow had been a life saver in tech. He always knew when to turn off people’s mics, including that one time he turned off Catra’s when she started shit talking principal Hordak backstage when he came to watch rehearsal. Luckily, he turned them off now as Adora made her attempts to approach the subject.

“Princess Prom.” That’s not a question, it’s a statement! “Uh, I mean…”

“Catra, you and Kyle are next,” Scorpia, their stage manager, said.

Catra nodded, then turned back to her. “So, this is it, huh.. Our last curtain call as seniors, being cast as the leads for the first time, our last show in general until San Diego.”

“Don’t remind me.” She already cried in her car as she drove herself and Catra to school, emotional about ending her last show already. Closing nights are always a mess, but it just hits differently as seniors, and when you’re playing love rivals with the girl you’re pretty in love with.

“I’ll see you on the flip side,” she whispered before she ran out on stage, the bright lights shining down on her.

Even though Adora could only see Catra’s back, they were both sad about this being their last show. They had identical tears pricking their eyes, and when she rushed off stage with Kyle, she braced herself for the emotions to come.

She took Sea Hawk’s hand, and they ran to center stage when Scorpia gave them their cue. She couldn’t stop the tears from coming, even as she bunched her dress in her hands to give the curtsey bow. Sea Hawk did the Jeremy Jordan bow, where he clasps his hands in front of him and takes his bow.

Their last show…

The cast got into a line going horizontal, pointing to their lovely orchestra for their part of the bow. They started to make their way backstage again, and Adora took Catra’s hand. For emotional support, you know? She wasn’t going to see the blinding lights or the tech week shenanigans or the mic taped to her forehead in high school again! Obviously she’s going to be very dramatic about it.

As the cast made their way to the green room, everyone was in the same mood: sad. Catra had opted for letting go of her hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders as they silently sniffled. She was going to miss this…

“Closing night isn’t over, people!” Sea Hawk shouted, pumping a fist into the air. “Let’s go say goodbye to Double Trouble, and head over to Denny's!”

Ah, yes. The theatre kid ritual. Every show, they have to go to Denny'safter closing. It’s the law, and she looked forward to it every time. It always created the best memories, like when the obnoxious senior from last year, Octavia, got arrested for stealing a shopping cart.

Denny's always made her night.

“He’s not wrong,” Catra said to her. “Am I driving with you?”

“Duh.” Wasn’t that a given? Or was it too forward to assume. Or maybe-

“That’s what I thought.”

But when they stepped into the green room, all thoughts of Catra disappeared (for one second exactly) as Double Trouble walked in, whopping loudly. They gave their speech about this being one of the funnest shows to do, but Adora was too busy wiping her wet cheeks to really listen.

“Go out there, kids, and rule the goddamn theatre world!” Double Trouble finished, dismissing them for the night.

“To Denny's!” Glimmer exclaimed, giving everyone the pick-me-up they needed.

“To Denny's,” Catra repeated to her, quieter. To Denny'sit was. They walked to the parking lot, heading to her car, but Glimmer caught her wrist as she was opening her door.

“You only have a couple hours left. Use them wisely.” Satisfied with her words of wisdom, Glimmer got into the passenger side of Bow’s car parked next to them.

“I’m really going to kill them,” Adora whispered to herself as she put the key into the ignition. Her little yellow beetle may not be anything for any other high school kid, but it was perfect for her.

“Why?” Catra asked, having apparently heard her. Rats.

“Because.” And it was left at that before Adora opened her mouth again. “Princess Prom. That’s a thing that’s going on. It’s going on very soon. Like, in a month soon.”

“Yes, what about it?” Catra seemed so dismissive of it. She looked out the window, listening to Somebody’s Watching Me on the radio. Was she even going to go? What if she asked and Catra had no plans of going, and Adora’s unknowingly forcing her into it?

“Nothing.”

“Oh…” Catra traced the window with her nail. Now why was she all deflated? This girl is way too confusing for her brain. “I want to go, but I don’t want to be alone.”

Adora is going to kill someone. Seriously, all it would take is driving the car into Denny's. “Really? You’re going?”

“Not as of right now, but I kind of want to. Like I wouldn’t wear a dress or heels. But… I would want to wear a suit and maybe get my nails a color that isn’t black. But I don’t know who I’d go with.”

She momentarily turned away from the road to look at Catra. Bow would be screaming at her right now, but she couldn’t find it in her to care. She was basically given an invitation to ask, but what if Catra didn’t want her to ask? What if she’s just talking about it? What if she wants Adora to set her up with someone else?

Catra opened her mouth to say something, but she got distracted by something gleaming in the backseat. “There’s no way I didn’t notice these earlier!”

She reached into the back, leaning across the console. Her white sweater rode up on her waist, and Adora exploded into a blush at the sight of some skin. Seriously, what is wrong with her? And because she doesn’t get cold, she wore a cropped red cami and regular black jeans. Her outfit did nothing to hide the blush.

Catra came back up, holding the hilt of two lightsabers. They were both big Star Wars nerds, and she spent thirty dollars (each) on these sabers. But the money from the bet would pay it back, if she actually did it. Catra dove into the backseat again, bringing the two sticks of plastic that she fastened back onto the hilt.

She pressed a button, and the blue light from Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber lit up the car. Catra stared at the saber, and Adora couldn’t help but notice how her skin managed to light up perfectly in the blue light. “Try the red.”

Catra turned off the blue saber, and grabbed a hold of Darth Vader’s lightsaber. The red added a dangerous feeling to the atmosphere. Blue was fun and playful. Red was full of passion, and the silence that followed afterward proved her point.

Finally, Catra cleared her throat, moving the saber around a bit. “Oh, I like this one.”

“But I like that one,” Adora protested as she pulled into a parking space at Denny’s. She could see everyone had already arrived. Not like she was driving slower than usual just to get a couple more seconds of conversation. No doubt they would see the red light and question what they were doing.

She pointed the end of the saber at Adora. “Well then, I guess it’s going to have to be a duel to the fate.”

Adora rolled her eyes at the reference, but grabbed the blue saber from the console, igniting it with the push of a button. “Okay, Eponine ‘I Died Delivering A Letter To My Love Interest That Was Actually About Another Girl’ Thénardier.”

“That’s the show’s fault, not mine.”

“Unimportant.”

Catra opened the car door, bouncing to Adora's side within seconds. She hastily took off her seatbelt, practically sprinting out of the driver's seat, spinning the hilt in her hand. “I’m pretty sure you’ve never fought with one of these.”

Adora scoffed. “I own them.”

“Yeah, just like I’m gonna own you!” Catra charged forward, raising her saber above her head before bringing it down on Adora. She barely had time to respond, lifting her own saber to block it as she sunk down to her knee.

“Hey, I just ordered our table! It’ll be ready in a couple minutes,” Scorpia said as she came out the door in time to see Adora stand and knock Catra away from her. “What are you guys doing?”

Catra held Adora in a parry as she turned around to yell, “Fighting, duh!”

“Yeah, we see that!” Bow shouted as Adora brought her sword back to her chest, making Catra stumble as they slowly moved away from her car. “Why are you guys mad?”

“Not real fighting!” Adora answered, moving in closer to Catra as their sabers met in the middle time and time again. “I’m defending my honor and rights!” “Yeah, her rights to dance with me instead of fighting in a parking lot!” Catra responded.

Adora faltered at that. Before she could begin overthinking what that meant in the middle of a lightsaber duel in the Denny's parking lot with the entire cast of Les Mis watching, Catra caught her saber and twisted her arm, causing Adora to completely let go of her saber.

“It’s over, Adora. I have the high ground,” Catra boasted.

“Not yet!” She dropped down low, catching the saber by the hilt before it hit the ground. She brought her blade back up, the two of them getting caught in another round of aimlessly swinging and blocking.

“You guys are ridiculous!” Glimmer shouted, her head in her hands.

“You don’t appreciate the true art of Star Wars like we do!” Adora yelled back.

Truthfully, this isn’t how she expected her last post closing night dinner at Denny’s to go.

When she was talking about it to Catra on their way to school, they imagined a tearful night. Majority of the cast and crew were seniors, and everyone loved them. Glimmer had basically adopted a little sophomore, Frosta, who played Gavroche (no one even noticed the genderbend!). They all thought they were going to be sad, and cry in the back of Scorpia’s pick up truck as they sang One Day More as a cast, one last time.

Instead, Adora was sword fighting Catra in the parking lot as all of their friends watched.

A great conclusion to her senior year musical, honestly.

Adora stood in front of Catra for a moment as they caught their breath. In an instant, they started twirling their sabers in their hands. The light from the blue and red was a whirlwind, and Catra laughed as they recreated that one scene from their favorite Star Wars movie: Revenge of the Sith.

Catra’s laugh was intoxicating. It made Adora let out her own giggle. They went back to fighting after a second, but Catra’s face illuminated by the red light in the nighttime made her stomach go up in butterflies.

“You were supposed to join me, not leave me in darkness!” Catra recited, smiling the whole time.

Adora swiped the saber at her feet, and Catra hopped over it. “Well, I love you!”

She froze, and Catra even faltered. But because she froze, Catra pushed her onto her back, pointing the red saber at her. “I know!”

For a moment, she forgot it was a reference to another one of the movies. But Adora let her saber fall out of her hand, looking up at Catra. The red light was stunning. Everyone else around them had fallen silent to watch the exchange. She then realized no one else knew what the reference was from.

“Guys, it’s from one of the movies!” Adora called out from her place on the ground. “Empire Strikes Back, it’s pretty good. You guys should watch it!”

Catra panted, looking down at her. “What?”

She was equally as confused. “What? What happened?”

“Oh, forget it.” Catra turned off the saber, holding her hand out instead. “Want to rule a galaxy together instead?”

“How about we start by taking over Broadway,” Adora grinned, helping herself up with Catra’s assistance. She turned off the blue saber, but they continued to stare at each other. Catra continued to hold her hand, but neither made any attempt to move away.

“Did we just hash everything out in a Denny’s parking lot?” Catra asked.

“I think we did..”

“Adora!” Glimmer shouted, interrupting their staring contest. “So like, I have a hundred with me. Bow has a twenty, but…”

The bet. A hundred and twenty dollars if she successfully asked her crush out to Princess Prom and didn’t get rejected. But they just beat each other up with plastic toys from the Disney store. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Or maybe they were, but then one of them would fall to the dark side and tragically die. Who knows?

“Oh, that thing where Glimmer and Bow were going to give you money if you asked me to Princess Prom?” Catra raised an eyebrow, laughing at Adora’s horrified face. “Bow told Scorpia, and she accidentally let it slip.”

Adora groaned. She wanted to go fall in a hole and die in a ditch. Maybe she should’ve been shot on stage instead of Catra. “Yeah, about that-”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me,” Catra said, tightening her hold on her hand. “I didn’t think I wanted to go, but then I heard that and I realized… maybe I did. The dances and stuff always felt really corporate to me, and it wasn’t my thing. But I went home everyday wondering why you hadn’t asked me yet, and then I realized-”

“Oh my god I am so sorry,” Adora interrupted. She was horrified. Catra knew the entire time. She’s been tripping over herself for the two months of rehearsal and three weeks of the actual production, but never stopped to think what if she already knew. She’s absolutely mortified. “You got dragged into this mess of a joke between me and Glimmer then Bow came in and I just thought, I don’t know. I don’t think or I think too much. Oh my god, I can not believe this is happening!”

Catra chuckled when she spoke without a pause. “Breathe. I’m not mad. Or upset or anything like that. I like you too, Adora.”

Her cheeks flamed. “You did?”

She nodded. “You’re not exactly subtle, per say…”

Adora didn’t feel like crying out of embarrassment anymore. She put her free hand in her pocket, ghosting her fingers over Catra’s knuckles with the other. “You actually like me?”

Another nod, accompanied with a gorgeous laugh. “Yes. Yes, I like you and all your high notes. You think I liked seeing you kiss Sea Hawk every rehearsal and show?” They both laughed. Neither of them like it, apparently, because Adora didn’t. “You and your private story where you rewatch Clone Wars with me and we both cry, and I get to see the video and laugh at how oblivious you were to notice that I liked you. You and your bootleg pirating, despite the fact that Newsies is your favorite and it’s literally proshot. So yeah, Adora. I do like you. You and your overthinking.”

Adora was over the moon, and she wanted to stay here in the parking lot all night and talk. But first, she had something to conclude. “So, Princess Prom. That’s a thing we should go to together.”

“We should.”

They did.

[hawkinslibrary]

What do u think about the new filming pics of natalia, gaten, and sadie? 😶

i’m gonna try putting this under a read more but if that doesn’t work please stop reading if you don’t want any kind of spoilers !! i’ll be using my spoiler tags, too, so remember to blacklist/filter out ‘s4′, ‘st4’, and the ‘spoilers’ tags !!

seriously -- this goes in depth about set pics, audition videos, and theories. 

i’m so sorry this is so incredibly long lmao. i’m just sitting on all this s4 stuff and i want to talk about it.

bottom line, i’m excited. i’m just happy to see that they’re filming again tbh, and i hope that they’ll be staying as safe and healthy as possible and that there won’t be any more major delays.

as for the content, i’m pretty happy about that, too. i love all of these characters and dynamics pretty equally, so any content with any of them is great to me. i think there was also a pic of priah on set that day, too, but it was far away and you couldn’t really see her that well. ultimately, it seems like there will be a lot of s1 and s2 vibes with the whole school setting, as a large part of the main cast will be together at hawkins high instead of off doing their own things during the summer.

i know a ton of people want a winter season, but i personally think it’ll be spring and i think nancy’s outfit in particular kinda points in that direction. plus, i don’t think they’d skip past nancy, robin, and jonathan’s senior year or the party’s first year of high school/el’s potential first year of school ever. they could do fall again and start right where we left off in s3 with the 3 month time jump, or they could do flashbacks to the holidays and time we’ll be missing. but i think the bulk of the season will be set in spring. spring has easter, easter = resurrection, david keeps referring to hopper being alive as a resurrection, strangerwriters twitter specifically brought up making easter jokes with hopper’s name, etc.

i have to bring up the s4 audition tapes that surfaced a while ago. i know they’re a controversial topic (are they real? should we put any thought into them? do they actually reflect any part of s4 at all? why would these be open to the public if they’re legit? etc., etc.), but for this ask and for the part of me that’s grasping onto like... any potential s4 info, i’m gonna be looking at them as if they’re real.

this one is for ‘warden hatch’, who is the head of a psychiatric hospital. now, we know pennhurst is gonna be in s4. we know natalia filmed there before production shut down. people said maya was also on set that day. the scenes in this audition have him talking to two girls who happen to be very smart and have a taste for investigating. they’re obviously lying about being in college (or, at least, at that particular college with that particular professor), so i think it counts as confirmation that the two of them are still in high school, or at the very least working around hawkins. i just can’t see why nancy would be at hawkins high if she wasn’t still a student.

this one is for ‘eddie’, the ‘80s metalhead who is into metallica, loves d&d, and is a potential ally. he’s also apparently a drug dealer. so. his audition mentions hellfire a lot. ‘the hellfire club’ is the name of the first episode of s4. and now we have a picture of gaten on set in a shirt that says ‘hellfire club’. at the end of s3, in the news report, they allude to dungeons and dragons being linked to satanism. it seems like this is something the hellfire club (apparently, a club for lovers of d&d) will be dealing with. there’s also a present rivalry of ‘jocks v. nerds’ with the club and the basketball team, which we know will also play a part in s4. in the audition, ‘eddie’ is talking to ‘paul’ (”you were wearing your weird al shirt”) and ‘curtis’ (”you were wearing whatever shit your mom got you from the goddamned gap”), who are... obviously dustin and mike. they tell him that ‘fred’ (lucas) will be missing the club meeting because he has to play basketball.

which brings us to ‘jason’ and the most uh... obvious? of the audition tapes. this is a scene from a pep rally for a championship basketball game, where ‘jason’ literally name drops heather, billy, and hopper, who all “perished in that fire” (aka the cover up for the battle of starcourt). now, ‘jason’ is dating ‘molly’, a cheerleader who goes to ‘eddie’ to buy drugs (which i think is the second scene included in ‘eddie’s’ audition above). this second ‘jason’ audition has the pep rally scene as well as a scene where ‘jason’ tells the basketball team they need to hunt down the ‘freaks’ in the hellfire club (but especially ‘eddie’) because something happened to ‘molly’ and he blames them (bc of the whole drugs and satanists thing). one of the basketball players speaks up to tell him that they aren’t satanists, it’s just a d&d club. i believe this basketball player is lucas (”and how exactly is it you know all that?” “my sister, she’s like.. a total nerd. she plays sometimes.”) and the basketball team/jason have no idea that he’s affiliated with the hellfire club.

so there are a few different situations which could lead up to the scene in the pictures with dustin and max, but there’s one more audition i need to talk about first. this isn’t the full audition because the original was deleted, but mrs. kelley is the new guidance counselor at hawkins high. her audition video seems to be a scene where she’s talking to a student about their home life and their grades. the situation in the scene is very reminiscent of max’s current situation and i think the full scene even mentioned the loss of a brother or something ? so, one parent is drinking and having to work two jobs after one asshole stepparent leaves, but things are still better with them gone. i think max might be retreating a little, pulling away from the party. in fact, i think both physical and emotional distance is going to be a theme in s4. like, not only is everyone in different places, but they’re going to be drifting into new situations with new people and new interests and all these new personal conflicts, i guess.

so, if we’re operating under the assumption that the audition vids are legit, maybe the scene is after the pep rally and dustin is checking up on max. she’s been hit pretty hard by billy’s death bc despite everything, despite how messed up and complicated everything was, he’s still been right there with her for years and she had to watch him die brutally. maybe she doesn’t want to think about it and maybe when ‘jason’ mentions his loss, it brings everything to the surface. or, maybe the scene is after the hellfire club meeting. dustin could be asking if she’s seen lucas or if she wants to be his replacement at the meeting. whatever it is, it doesn’t look like it ends on a very positive note.

uhhhhh in conclusion, nancy’s outfit suggests a spring season, she should still be in school along with robin, dustin is a part of the hellfire club, max is emo, and i’m very excited and happy.

[missperfectlyfine13]

A Bandaid For Your Bullet Hole (1/?)

I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while now and I’m still not sure how I feel about it (I kind of feel like it’s crap lol). Let me know if I should continue! 

Summary:  Outside of Barden, Chloe’s life is harder than she would like to admit. When she’s at school she gets to forget all about problems, she gets to be normal. She doesn’t like to let people know about her life outside Barden, with the exception of her best friend Aubrey. Then she meets Beca Mitchell, and somehow she becomes the second exception. Will Beca be the answer Chloe has been looking for?

Read Below or on AO3/FF

“Our Sorrows and Wounds Are Healed Only When We Touch Them With Compassion” – Buddha

May 2012, End of Chloe’s Junior Year

Chloe watches sadly as Aubrey packs up her bags, her side of their shared room in the Bella house looking dreadfully empty. Their last day of classes was yesterday and all the girls in the house are working hard to pack.

Aubrey and Chloe are going to be the only Bellas left next year, so Aubrey is moving all of her stuff from their shared room to the room across the hall. Leaving Chloe feeling even more empty than she already is.

“You sure you don’t want to come home with me this summer?” Aubrey offers one more time, her eyes soft and sympathetic, because she knows, she’s the only one who knows.

Chloe shakes her head, “No I’ll be fine here. It’ll give me a chance to clean this house up before next year anyways. The other girls aren’t exactly cleaning up their mess.”

“Ok, but if you change your mind…the offer stands,” Aubrey zips up her last bag of clothes, standing up to survey the damage.

Going home with Aubrey for the summer actually sounds amazing, but Chloe feels bad. She feels like she would be imposing. Aubrey’s home isn’t the happiest most days with her dad gone 90% of the time, so she doesn’t want to cut into the little family time they’ll have.

Chloe stopped going home over summer after her freshmen year. Her mom has only gotten worse in the last 6 years, making her near to impossible to be around. Not to mention the endless stream of men in and out of their house. Her brother Jake isn’t an option either, with him being on the road for his job most days. Which leaves her with her only other option, staying on campus all summer.

“I appreciate it,” Chloe thanks her best friend quietly, knowing she won’t take her up on her offer.

“Have you talked to her lately?” she immediately knows who Aubrey is talking about.

Chloe shakes her head, “No. I know nothing has changed…she knows I won’t come home unless she gets her shit together.”

“I’m sorry it has to be that way,” Aubrey reaches a hand out and places it on her shoulder.

“Yea me too.”

************

September 2005

Chloe watches grimly as her mom polishes off her second beer of the morning. There’s an empty case next to her recliner in the living room, providing an awful memory of the night before. She had been angry, angrier than Chloe ever remembers her being. Chloe locked herself in her room and hadn’t come out until this morning.

“Mom,” she tries to keep her voice steady and strong, but it still quivers betrayingly, “the funeral is in an hour…are you going to be ready?”

“I’ll be ready,” she replies flatly, tossing her empty bottle into the recycle bin.

“Grandma and grandpa are coming to pick me up,” Chloe clarifies.

It sounds awful, but she doesn’t trust her mom not to be drunk. She doesn’t want to ride in a car with her. Chloe would drive the both of them, but she only has her temporary license. She’s not 16 until next year.

“They could take you too,” she offers quietly.

Her mom shakes her head, “I’ll be fine to drive myself…I could drive you too.”

“Um that’s ok,” she shifts anxiously between her two feet, “just be careful.”

Her mom gives her a dark stare, before cracking open another beer. She always liked a drink, but it was something that never got in the way of her life. It never got in the way until her dad died. The day the call came that he had been in a car accident and most likely wasn’t going to make it, her mom just lost it. She hasn’t been the same since. Well, neither has Chloe.

Chloe and her dad were so close. She always got along better with him than her mom. A part of her died that day and she’ll never get it back. The only other person in the world who gets her like her dad, is her older brother Jake. Jake is in college across the country, so Chloe rarely sees him. He flew into town yesterday, but after assessing the situation, he refused to stay at the house, checking himself into a hotel instead. Chloe almost hates him a little for it, for leaving her here with their mom. Regardless of her feelings about him chickening out, she’s aching to see him. Chloe just needs a hug; she needs to talk to him. She needs someone else around her, someone other than her drunk mother.

Chloe’s still worried about her mom driving, so she throws a last-ditch effort at her, “I could see if Jake could come pick you up?”

Her mom scoffs loudly, “He didn’t even want to come home, what makes you think he’s going to pick me up.”

She’s clearly not winning this one, “Ok, well I’m going to go put my dress on before grandpa gets here.”

************

The funeral is just as painful as Chloe had assumed it would be. It makes it real, she’s really saying goodbye to her dad. She’s really left here with her mom.

Chloe’s not sure her mom will ever pull it back together and that scares her. She smelled like a 12 pack of miller light when she got to the church. As person after person walks up to her to give their condolences, Chloe cringes. She knows they can smell it too, it’s embarrassing.

“You going to be ok with her Chlo?” Jake walks up to her, the two standing side by side watching as their childhood pastor talks to their inebriated mother.

Chloe sighs deeply, “I’m going to have to be, someone needs to watch after her. I’m worried Jake.”

“I am too,” Jake runs a hand through his hair anxiously, “you know I’m only a phone call away though.”

“Like you can do anything to actually help though, you didn’t even stay at the house last night,” Chloe replies bitterly.

“I’m sorry about that,” he shuffles his feet nervously, “I couldn’t bear to watch the train wreck…I should have been there.”

“Dad would want someone to make sure she’s ok,” Chloe swallows back tears as she says it, “I have to stay with her.”

“He loved you so much Chloe, he’d want you to be safe and happy.”

Chloe knows that’s true, but in three years she’ll be in college. She has an out, she owes it to her dad to hang in there.

“I’ll be fine,” she forces a smile at her brother.

Jake pulls her into a tight hug, “Love you Chlo.”

“I love you too Jake,” she mumbles into his shoulder, willing her tears to not escape.

************

September 2012, Chloe’s Senior Year

“I can see your toner through those jeans!” Aubrey barks out into the mostly empty practice space.

Chloe cringes internally. She likes Beca…ok she also likes Beca. Something about the little alt girl drew her in right away. She’s not sure if it was the sass she dished back to them at the activities fair, or when she had an impromptu duet with her in the shower. Maybe it was her audition, where she blew everyone away with a simple song and a yellow cup. Chloe can’t put her finger on it, but she can’t seem to shake the brunette from her mind.

And Beca is talented. Aubrey has such a grudge against her she can’t even stop to see it. They desperately needed talent, especially after last years explosive ICCAs finals. The two of them had a hard enough time getting the girls they did, it’s a miracle they got someone as talented as Beca. Even if it took a little coercing from Chloe.

“That’s my dick,” Beca spits back, before turning on her heels to leave.

The response rips a quiet chuckle from the back of Chloe’s throat, but she manages to conceal it before Aubrey turns around. The blonde is red in the face, her hands shaking slightly.

“You don’t have to be so hard on her you know,” Chloe knows she’s playing with fire by saying something like that to her best friend right now.

She can practically see the flames roaring in her pupils as she turns to look at her, “Yes I do Chloe. She has an attitude and no respect for authority. Do you want any shot at finals this year?”

Of course she does, she’s not going to deny that, so she nods.

“That’s what I thought, so don’t question my methods,” Aubrey retorts quickly.

Ever since the year started, and Aubrey and Chloe took over the Bellas, there has been a certain bite to Aubrey that Chloe has never seen before. This isn’t the Aubrey Chloe knows, she’s starting to think she never knew her at all.

“I’ve got to get going Bree, I’ve got homework to do,” Chloe grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder.

Aubrey is staring intently at the white board in front of her, wiping away some of the marks she made on their master plan, “Ok, see you back at the house.”

Chloe rushes out of the building, hoping that maybe she can still catch up to Beca. She wants to apologize, wants to make sure the other girl is ok. Chloe doesn’t want Beca to quit over this incident, for some selfish and not so selfish reasons.

Luckily, Beca is leaning against a large tree right outside the building, large headphones covering her ears, her face looking down at her phone. Chloe stalks quickly over to her. As she gets closer, Beca’s head snaps up, immediately making eye contact with her.

“Hey Beca,” Chloe chirps, as the younger girl slides her headphones down around her neck.

“Hi,” Beca replies cautiously, like she’s not sure what Chloe is here for.

“I’m sorry about Aubrey, she’s been extra control freak lately, that wasn’t cool of her to accuse you like that,” Chloe is quick to get her apology out, Beca doesn’t look like she would want to beat around the bush.

“I appreciate the apology,” relief washes over Chloe, that is until Beca continues to talk, “but that’s a really dumb rule. I’m not even sure I’m into Jesse, but I should be able to be with him…if I was.”

Chloe sighs, “I know it’s dumb…and if you really do like Jesse, I wont say anything to Aubrey. I’m pretty sure Bumper and Fat Amy have something going anyways.”

Beca wrinkles her nose, her mouth turning downward, “Oh uh wow…didn’t see that one coming.”

“Me either,” Chloe laughs.

“Thank you, I don’t see anything happening with Jesse, but still, thank you,” Beca says sincerely, before starting to slide her headphones back up.

This must be Chloe’s cue to leave, “Ok, well I’ll see you around!”

Beca nods, “Yea, see ya.”

************

Chloe wakes up the next morning with an ache in her heart and a sour taste in her mouth. She rolls over groggily and sees the date on the calendar above her desk.

September 14th. The anniversary of her dad’s death.

The hardest day of the year for her. Much like years gone by, she just wants to get the day over with. Go to class, go to practice, come home and go to bed. Tomorrow will be a better day.

“Miss you dad,” Chloe mumbles, clutching the locket around her neck.

The locket was a gift from Jake, a year after the death. There’s a picture of her dad inside. She hasn’t taken it off since the day she got it.

Chloe eventually manages to pull herself from bed and start her day. She goes to class, she tries hard to pay attention. She goes to practice and sings and dances like she means it. Inside though, she feels like she’s barely there. Her body is present but her mind is miles away.

None of the other girls seem to pick up on her mood, except for Aubrey…and surprisingly…Beca. She catches a few sympathetic glares, but Beca’s are more worried, presumably because she has no clue what has Chloe under the weather.

So, she’s almost not surprised when practice is over and Beca hangs around until it’s just the two of them left. Just as she’s about to leave, Beca walks over to her.

“Hey Chloe,” Beca pulls the straps of her backpack tight against her, “are you ok?”

Chloe nods and gives her a small smile, “Yea, I’m fine.”

“It’s just…you don’t seem fine, you kind of seemed really distant today,” Beca shrugs.

Beca clearly isn’t going to let it go, normally Chloe would jump on the opportunity to share with the younger girl, but she’d rather not share. But something in Beca’s expression lets her know that she’s not going to drop it.

“Um well, I guess I’m just kind of depressed today,” Chloe answers her as vaguely as she can.

“Why?” Beca immediately fires the question back.

Beca has never seemed to care much about any of the other girls like this. It has her wondering why she’s pushing so hard. Maybe her little apology yesterday spoke to Beca louder than she thought.

Chloe sighs quietly before answering, “Today is the anniversary of my dad’s death.”

“Oh god, wow,” Beca casts her gaze to the floor, “Chloe I’m really sorry.”

“It’s ok, I’ll be better tomorrow,” Chloe tries to reassure her.

The two stand in awkward silence, while Beca shifts around uncomfortably. This is Chloe’s cue to leave.

Before she can even consider walking past her, Beca puts a hand out, “Um, I don’t know if this would make things worse…or if you’d just prefer to be alone, but would you want to grab dinner with me? Or we could just go back to my dorm for a while and just chill, we could order take out. My roommate is going to be gone tonight and I thought maybe it would take your mind off things?”

Normally Chloe would prefer to spend her day in her bed and not move until tomorrow. But even under the circumstances, she doesn’t want to pass up an opportunity to spend more time with Beca and maybe get to know her better. Something tells her that spending some time with the other girl really would make her feel better.

“Sure, that would be great,” Chloe grins and Beca looks shocked that she said yes.

“Ok, cool,” Beca leads the way out of the building and towards her dorm.

“Do you like Chinese?” Chloe asks as they walk through the crisp autumn air.

Beca nods excitedly, “I love it.”

“I know a great place we could order from.”

Being with Beca already has her calmer. She’s not sure if it’s because of how much she likes her, or if it’s just the girl’s presence in general. Something about her puts all of Chloe’s anxiety behind her, it helps her forget why she was even sad today. Which makes her almost feel guilty, but she knows this is what her dad would want for her.

One thing is solidified in her mind now. Beca Mitchell is special and Chloe would be a fool to let her slip away.

[chairismaticchair]

Star Crossed Enemies

Happy Holidays @yellowartistsunshine ! @sanderssidesgiftxchange

Summary:  When two rival theatre majors get cast as the leads in "Romeo and Juliet", something blossoms between them. Something beautiful.

This is Roceit, there are some swears. I had lots of fun writing this, especially since this was my first roceit fic!

If Roman despised a single person in the world with all his body and soul, that would be Janus Taylor. He hated how snagging lead roles in plays and musicals always became a fight between them. He hated how smug Janus constantly acted. He hated his stupidly posh accent that was only really obvious when he was on stage performing Shakespeare. He hated how he couldn't have any straight (not that it was possible with Roman any other way) or slightly logical conversation with Janus. He hated him, from the tip of his dumb black beanie, to the soles of his beige loafers. Overall, he hated Janus.

Whenever they passed in the college, there would be a flurry of middle fingers and middle-school-grade insults like "shit head" and "dumbass" thrown about with as much malice as two theatre majors could. They seemed to lose all common sense when in the mere vicinity of each other, instead becoming caricatures of theatre rivals. Arguably, that was exactly what they were.

"Taylor." Roman spat out. "I heard the LGBTQ+ Club's  putting up another play soon. Suppose you're going to want the lead role. But it's mine." He declared, as if no one had expected Roman Diaz Santos to want the lead role. 

Decei - shit sorry, Janus hissed back. "I heard it's gonna be Shakespeare, and guess who always gets Shakespeare roles? Me. Shithead." He added the “shithead” as an afterthought, as if this was his first rivalry and he had almost forgotten rule #315 of the Rivalry Book of Rivals.

They then tossed each other middle fingers like mutual salutes and marched off, heads held up high and refusing to turn back.

"Man, Janus really is a dick isn't he?" Roman complained to his best friend Virgil Teo, who sighed.

"Yes, Roman. Just like the -" He pulled out a notebook and made a little mark. "534 other times you've told me. This year. I don't even know what's that bad about him." 

"Well of course you don't get it. You two dated freshman year. Honestly, I thought you had better taste."

"And I do. That's why we broke up." Virgil slapped Roman's shoulder playfully. "Who are you to insult my dating life? You haven't had a single date since the start of college."

"I've had dates." Roman protested.

"Bad dates, Princey. Those don't count. Maybe you could send it to the Guinness World Records."

Roman gasped in mock annoyance. "How dare you, Virgil.” He gave a wistful sigh. “Anyways, I just want to find my soulmate. They’re out there, I can just feel it. A Juliet or Julien to my Romeo.”

"You're always are full of bullshit, aren't you, Roman?"

---

Patton, a senior, walked up to the front of the leture theatre and tapped the teacher on the shoulder. He whispered something in her ear and the teacher sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose frustratedly. "Hi! The LGBTQ+ Club is putting up two Shakespeare plays for this November! The first one will be a gay Romeo and Juliet, called Romeo and Julien. The other will be a sapphic 'Much Ado about Nothing'. Audition sign ups start next week Monday and end on Friday! Thank you!" Patton was very chirpy for 8 a.m. .

Now, this was when shit hit the fan and our story gets exciting. Roman turned to Virgil enthusiastically. "I'm totally auditioning for Romeo." Meanwhile, all students in the near vicinity who wanted Romeo's role sighed in unison.

Across the lecture theatre, Janus turned to his friend Remus excitedly. "I'm auditioning for Julien! This is gonna be great."

"For fucks sake." Someone in the near vicinity groaned and his friend patted his back sympathetically. 

---

Roman sat outside the auditorium, swinging his feet while waiting for his turn to audition. Walking down the corridor, Janus turned to Roman and picked up the chair beside him. He moved 6 feet away and plopped the chair down.

"So, Santos." He started, staring intensely at the auditorium door.

Roman found his shoes absolutely riveting. "Yeah?"

"What role are you auditioning for?" 

Tapping the side of his chair, Roman said, "The lead one, obviously."

"Oh." Janus paused and turned to look directly at Roman. Sticking out his hand, he gave him a slight smile. "Well may the best one win."

Roman took the hand hesitantly. "Yeah Janus. Break a leg."

---

The large board outside the auditorium was a crowd favourite among students. It was constantly updated with rehearsal times, casting choices and upcoming performances, you know, the classic cool stuff.

Roman and Janus were the first to arrive at the board and glanced at each other before looking down the corridor with longing. 

A boy with big circular wire framed glasses bounded down the corridor, an A4 paper in his hand. He waved excitedly at the two in front of him. "Hi Roman! Hi Janus! Waiting for results?"

The two nodded in synchronisation. 

"Oh, well I got them here!" He got out a stapler and stapled the paper to the board, the sleeves of his turquoise hoodie large and dangly. 

Romeo: Roman Diaz Santos

Julien: Janus Taylor

The two boys turned to each other in horror.

"Y - you mean -"

"You thought-"

"Julien."

"Romeo."

"WAS THE LEAD ROLE?"

The boy, Patton, looked at them in amusement. "Well, you both got main roles, so congrats! Rehearsals start in two weeks and I'll give you guys your scripts tomorrow. Have fun!" 

He patted them both on the back before heading off, skip in his step.

Janus and Roman turned to look at each other in horror once more. 

---

There is a moment in one's life, where they will reflect on everything they have done, and wonder what mistakes they had made to lead them down this path. As Roman flipped through the script Patton had handed him, that was exactly what he was doing. "You mean to say, I have to kiss this - this snake 5 times? Outrageous. Unacceptable."

They sat in a circle, everyone who participated in the play knee against knee. It was far too close for comfort and Roman was probably going to vomit onto the rest of the cast.

Virgil, who was in charge of lights and sound and sitting next to him, smirked. "Princey, this is literally a play about you two in love. 5 kisses are the minimum."

"And I am right here, you know." Janus looked slightly offended, leaning over and looking at Roman, who was a Virgil away. "And I'm not that bad at kissing. Ask Virgil. "

Virgil choked. 

Before Roman could retort, Patton interrupted them. "Okay guys! Don't forget to practice your lines. Rehearsals start in two weeks so I hope you manage to memorise some of your lines."

As they left the auditorium, Roman whispered to Virgil. "Is Janus actually good at kissing?"

Virgil just shrugged.

Patton called after the leaving group. "Roman? Janus? Please get whatever feud is going on between you two and throw it away. You two need to cooperate so that we can all work together. Go bond over the next few days. Thanks!”

Bond? With Janus? Roman never wanted to hear those words in the same sentence ever again. There was an odd creeping feeling that grew in his stomach and crawled up his throat invasively. It was foreign and weird. Maybe an allergic reaction.

“Oy! Janus! We probably have to - to get to know each other better.” Roman could feel heat spreading from his toes all the way to his cheeks. Why was he blushing? He should not be blushing. “So, do you wanna go grab some food tonight?”

Janus’ eyes widened and he physically stepped back. He pointed at Roman, before pointing back at himself. “You? Offering me? Dinner?” 

Roman shot a wink at Janus cheekily, before turning around to hide his blush. What was he doing? He never flirted with his rival. Was that even flirting? Tugging his hair down in a pitiful attempt to hide his burning red ears, he turned to Virgil. 

Virgil wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, before elbowing Roman in the side. “Stepping up your game, Santos? Impressive.” 

Roman blushed even harder, and looked away. 

---

Roman had had his fair share of dates, if that was what you called a dinner like this, and he never knew what to say. He pulled out his best card. 

“So...ya like jazz?” 

Janus choked on his iced lemon tea. "Fucking Bee Movie?” 

“Well, you do wear black and yellow 80% of the time, so you clearly like bees. Ergo, Bee Movie.”

An eyebrow was raised. “Impressive. You almost sound as smart as Logan.”

“I wish. He’s an absolute genius.” Logan was studying law, would probably become the valedictorian, and was dating Patton. Truly a legend.

“What’s your favourite animated movie then?” Janus asked. “Mine certainly is not the Bee Movie. There are loads of better Dreamworks films. I love Megamind."

“Oh, Megamind is really good! Choosing a favourite… that’s so hard though!” Roman bounced in his seat. Another movie lover? Perhaps, Janus wasn't too bad.  

Janus laughed and the food must have been tainted or something, because Roman’s heart skipped several beats. 

---

“Right! Let’s start at Act 1, Scene 5. You guys are at the party and this is when Romeo meets Julien for the first time. Action.” Patton, perched on the edge of a chair, announced, eyes shining with excitement. 

Roman glanced over at Janus, clad in a hoodie and jeans. He was flipping through his script and mumbling lines to himself. It was their first rehearsal so they were still allowed to look at their scripts. It also happened to be their first kiss scene. Pink tinted Roman's cheeks at the thought. Kiss… Janus? The two words seemed so foreign next to each other, yet they felt as though they were meant to be. He couldn't stop his eyes lingering over Janus' light pink lips. He turned away quickly, glancing at his script. Romeo kisses Julien.

Romeo.

Kisses.

Julien.

Shaking his head, he looked up at the people on stage, waiting for his cue. He had to stop thinking so much. Thoughts were dangerous. Who knows where they may lead?

Roman wondered what Janus' lips tasted like.

Oh for fucks sake. 

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Roman shoved his face back into the script, mumbling his lines under his breath and waiting for his queue to come on stage.

Stepping onto the stage, he channeled Romeo Shakespearean thoughts. It was a little hard in his button up shirt and jeans, but he was a professional. “What lord is that which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?” He gestured towards Janus. 

A server bowed politely. “I know not, sir.”

“Oh, he doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems he hangs upon the cheek of night. Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear, beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows. As yonder lord o'er his fellows shows. The measure done, I’ll watch his place of stand. And, touching his, make blessèd my rude hand.” He spoke to the audience, but couldn’t help think about how accurate this was. Janus too, was really hot. 

Roman spoke some more about how hot Julien was, and the rest of the rehearsal was a blur. He wasn’t Roman anymore. In front of this audience? He was Romeo, a rich lovestruck teenager. 

Then suddenly, he found himself staring into Janus’ eyes, and he was Roman all over again. 

Janus’ eyes, a deep, rich brown that gave Roman a steady look, pierced into Roman’s heart. He spoke towards the audience, but he sounded so genuine and sincere as he uttered his lines. “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.”

Roman gave Janus a soft smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Then move not, while my prayers’ effect I take.”

Closing his eyes, he leaned in and brushed Janus’ lips. It was hesitant, and soft, and he could hear Janus' quiet gasp, as if he wasn't expecting it. It was barely a kiss, more like a peck, but Roman could feel heat rushing into his cheeks. “Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.” He said, loud enough for the audience to hear him.

“Then have my lips the sin that they have took?” Janus cocked his head to the side, looking far more innocent and coy than Roman had ever seen him behave before.

“Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” This time, Janus stood on tiptoes and kissed him. A proper kiss that made the butterflies in his stomach flutter, and Roman wanted to stay like that forever and ever. The scent of Janus' cologne made him giddy and he took Janus' hands, pulling him closer. On one hand, they were playing parts in a play, and on the other hand, everything felt oh so real, from the hoodie toggles that tickled his button up shirt to Janus' soft fingers gripping his hands tightly.

When they finally pulled away, Roman gazed at Janus' shining brown eyes in what must have been a lovestruck expression. He found his Julien.

---

"You BITCH!" Virgil slapped the study table violently.

"What did I do?"

"1 year. 1 fucking year of you making fun of me falling for a white guy and here you are, falling for the exact same white guy." Virgil looked vaguely irritated. "Even my mom was like," He put his hand at his ear like a phone and did an exaggerated Chinese accent. "Aiyah ah boy, I know you like boys, but an angmoh gao is too too much already. But don't worry lah, 4 months is not long, you still can leave him.” Do you even know what that means, you ass?”

He suddenly burst out in laughter. "This is great, it's my turn to poke fun." He rubbed his hands together excitedly. "What was the kiss like? Was it...spicy?"

"Weren't you there?"

"Yeah, but I want a personal recount. Actually, no. Give me the P.E.E.L. format. Point, evidence, example and link on Janus' kissing skills. Go." 

"Oh, er. Janus was a… good kisser?" Roman didn't kiss much. "Um, point. His hair is all fluffy and I feel it brushing against my forehead, which gives me butterflies and this warm tingly sensation that ran through my body and gave me goosebumps. And he makes this noise whenever we kiss that is so cute, he honestly sounds genuinely surprised whenever it happens, even though we're following a script. And his cologne smells so good, oh my god I need to get the brand name, it's like kinda ashy, but not quite and it was a bit light, like a nice stroll in a forest. Holy shit it smelled nice. And-"

Virgil raised an eyebrow and paused Roman's tangent. "He wore cologne? He never wears cologne."

"Oh." Roman's eyes widened. 

"Maybe…" Virgil wiggled his eyebrows. "He wore it for the kiss scene." 

The heat that decided to congregate on Roman's cheeks was undeniable. "Why - why would he do that?" 

"He likes you, ya dumbass. And he wanted to impress you, so he decided that hoodie plus beanie plus cologne was a good combo."

Roman stared at his feet. "It was."

Virgil stood up and patted Roman on the head comfortingly. "There, there, it's alright. White guys aren't all that bad."

"Oh fuck off."

Virgil bowed and shot Roman the finger. Truly a man of eloquence and class. Roman opened a picture on his phone from his date with Janus. Janus was smiling, and Roman could feel himself smiling too as he looked at the picture of Janus. Of his Julien.

[ygboysygbby]

Secretly

Mino/Song Minho Scenario

Request: Hi!! I hope it’s okay with me requesting this as it’s based on a fanfic I’m writing and just want to see how it would play out and that requests are still open. Could I request a Mino headcanon or Winner headcanon with Mino secretly dating Jiyong’s older sister (just by a year) who’s also a Kpop idol, actress and fashion designer? Thank you.

you know what? the request made me inspired, I’m gonna make this a short story with my own interpretation instead! let’s see how it goes! :D  (note: I made the sister as the reader instead of an OC)

Never once had you regretted starting a career as an actress. While you knew you also had a passion in fashion designing, and even went to college for it, acting was just another level. Experiencing a whole different life through acting, controlling your own emotions, it was a challenge and a fun experience in one package. 

So instead of pursuing the career in fashion world, you decided to audition as an actress. It did not take you a long time to make your debut, because as much as you wanted to deny it, the power your little brother, Kwon Jiyong, has, was a huge impact. But, it was still your very own hardworking self that made you a rising star that you were known as.

After your latest drama hit, you were suddenly in much demand for reality shows, that your entertainment literally had to refuse a few of the offers. One of the show they accepted in particular, was to make you show off singing skills, just because again, you were related to G-Dragon. Hearing this, you hoped so badly that your brother would refuse the offer, with him being all busy, but much to your dismay, he accepted.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like your own brother, he was a very kind and caring person towards you in your whole life, but him in a recording studio? that was a whole different person. You had heard stories from his band members how strict and perfectionist he could be while recording. Once, Daesung had to repeat a part in their song fifteen times, before he decided it was the right one to put into the song. The horror in Daesung’s face when he told the story was still lingering in your head.

Jiyong being the extra guy he was, he decided it would be great to add a surprise element to the song, with a surprise feature from another YG artist. At that time, he was thinking of another male rapper. And also at that time, Mino from Winner was available.

That brought you to the current situation. You standing up in front of the mic, for what you could recall, almost an hour in time, and your brother on the other side of the room, frowning. 

“Could you maybe, sing it again but this time, lower your voice a little bit?”

You wanted so badly to protest and start a fight with your sibling, but your eyes went to the man sitting next to him. Song Minho, you didn't know the guy that well. Heck, the only conversation you had had with him prior, was when you accidentally met him at an award show. Both of you only shook hands and said names, that was all. You couldn’t embarrass yourself in front of him by lashing out at your brother. Even though you were so hungry because your stupid self forgot to eat breakfast...

“You know I’m not a singer, right?” You tried to complain in a calm voice.

“I know, that’s why we have to have a good pre-recorded for you when we are on stage later.” 

Sigh. That clearly did not work. What did you even expect? For the almighty G-Dragon to go easy on you just because you were his sister??? Pfffft.

“You~ the breath of fresh air, the—” 

“Stop, stop.” Jiyong shook his head and began to instruct you the tone that he wanted. “The breath of fresh! You need to take the ‘fresh’ part to—”

“Ji,” You called, sounding a little bit like pleading.

“Hmm?” 

*GROWL*

“Did you forget to eat breakfast again?”

If the ground could swallow people, you would be begging it to consume you whole. The sound of your stomach rumbling, in full speakers, while someone you barely know was also present inside the room. Your first initial move was to look at Mino’s reaction. He was looking away, but you could see his cheeks lifted, you know he had at least a grin on his face. He was clearly trying his best not to burst out laughing. Great, just great!

“Let’s just continue this tomorrow, I have to meet up with some management from Nike in a bit anyway.” GD said. “Minho-ssi, can you help me a little bit with the auto tune on verse one?”

“Ah, if you’d let me...” Mino replied, in an unsure tone. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah, I trust you, I know what you can do.” Jiyong smirked. “And Y/N, make sure to eat, I don’t want you to get sick.” He said as he packed his stuff.

“Sure...” You said, still standing up frozen in front of the booth door. “Can I eat with you?” 

“No, cause I’m gonna go right away, the place is��quite far... Just eat downstairs, they serve good food, you know?” He smiled at you. “Bye!”

“Bye...” You sighed.

As Jiyong left, you were left feeling terribly awkward. Should you just leave? Should you say something? Was the sound of your empty stomach that bad? UGHHH!!!

When your eyes met, Mino immediately smiled at you, his eyes almost closed, he looked so cute. Wait, what?

“Y/N-ssi, have you tried eating in our cafeteria before?” He asked politely. 

“Uh, actually I haven't...” 

“If you don’t mind, I’m also a little bit hungry.” He smiled. “Do you want to eat together?”

“O-Of course!” You smiled awkwardly. 

Here you thought you were great at controlling your emotions with your whole acting experience, one smile from Song Minho, now you were stuttering.

And that was how it began. A smile, a friendship, then feelings that blossomed through the way. 

The show went amazingly well. It helped you with more exposure to your public, which of course meant, more offers, and in return, Jiyong and Mino got some royalties. Even though you had to stand through your brother’s perfectionism for quite some time, you also got to spend your lunch time afterwards with Mino, secretly. 

That wasn’t the only thing that you both ended up doing secretly behind your brother’s back. You exchanged numbers and began texting with each other. You began to frequently visit YG, bringing your brother food and stuff, in camouflage to secretly meet someone. 

After almost a year of doing many things secretly, both of you then began dating, yet again, secretly. Not only because both of you being in eyes of public and all, but there was one thing a little less if not same, scarier than public’s opinion... your brother.

There actually was not really a concrete reason for both of you to fear him acknowledging the relationship. Jiyong had never once scold you for dating despite of you being a public figure, nor had he once said that he disliked Mino. But the thought of him knowing that you, his older sister, dating his colleague who is younger than him, was just a little bit overwhelming. 

Mino on the other hand was scared as Jiyong was someone he looked up to and respect. He didn’t want him to think that some younger and incompetent dude was messing around with his sister. He was afraid that if Jiyong were to ask him what could he offer to his sister, he could not answer. Compared to the well known G-Dragon, Mino felt like a grain of dust.

**

Both of you were happily cuddling on your couch, watching a movie together. You were comfortably resting your head on Mino’s shoulder, while his fingers played with your hair softly. It was a very chill and relaxing time for both of you, before the sound of your phone ringing suddenly came interrupting.

“It’s my brother, he’s outside...” You said, eyes widened in shock.

“WHAT?!” Mino jerked up. “Should I hide???”

“In my bedroom, quick!” 

You opened your front door, hoping Jiyong wouldn’t notice the nervousness in your voice. “Ji! Why didn’t you tell me first before coming?”

“What? I’m always like this what do you mean?” He lifted one of his eyebrows, looking at you. “Oh, you were watching Mulan?” He asked as walked and saw your TV.

“Y-Yeah!”

“Is it good?” He said as he sat down on the sofa, taking one of the popcorn on the table. 

“Nah, it was shit!” You laughed. “It doesn’t matter though, I don’t mind watching bad movies as long as I have good company...” You widened your eyes as you realized what you had said.

“You had company?”

“No! I mean, I always say that to you! Unlucky me, just when I decided to watch alone the movie turns out to be awful, huh?” You laughed nervously. 

“Hmm.” Your brother crossed his legs, he seemed unsure with your answer.

“Why are you here anyway? My break time is very precious, you know? I’d love to spend it wisely.” 

“Oh, yeah that.” Jiyong put his index finger up as he remembered something and opened his backpack. “You remembered my friend who is a model? The guy we met two weeks ago?”

“Ahn Seojun?”

“Yeah, him.” He said as he took out a box of chocolate with a black ribbon on top of it. “He was overseas and he recalled you saying that you like this chocolate.”

“Uh... Tell him I said thanks, I guess?” You said, eyeing your brother weirdly. “That was nice of him, in fact, way too nice?”

“Maybe he likes you.” Jiyong casually shrugs.

“Yeah... he’s nice and all, but I’m not interested.” You chuckled.

“You are single anyway, why not?” 

“Uh, I’m still not interested...”

“Or are you not?” Jiyong looked at you sternly. 

“What?”

“Come to think of it, you used to talk about so many crushes to me... Ugh, you even used to have a crush on TOP hyung!” He laughed.

“Well, maybe I grew up! Besides, crushes are just crushes, I never had any deep feelings towards them! Unless you think I could develop feelings towards Chris Evans???” 

“You must be in love now...” He broke into an evil grin. “Come on, who’s the guy?”

“Okay, you’re not making any sense here, if that’s all, then you should go home. I want to continue spend my break without my brother pestering about my love life.”

“Alright, alright! Geez! No need to get so defensive...” He rolled his eyes. “So, you sure you are single?”

You cleared you throat. “Uh uh.”

“Then, if Seojun asked for your number, should I give it?”

“What?! I thought we are over this???”

“Yah, Mino-ssi!!! Come on out!” Jiyong suddenly yelled out with a huge grin still plastered on his face.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“If you don’t show yourself now, I’m going to tell the producers to postpone your solo album!” He said, almost singing. He definitely was enjoying this way too much. 

A few seconds later, you heard your bedroom door opening and closing very quickly. Mino stood in front of your bedroom for a while before walking up towards both of you. His eyes was looking down to his feet the entire time.

“There you go!” Jiyong clapped. “So, tell me again, my beautiful sister, you sure you are single?”

“Ji, if you’re going to scold us, then please scold me as I—”

“Whoa! Who said I’m gonna what?! I’m just mad you never told me!”

“Wait, so you’re okay with this?” You said, pointing back and forth to both yourself and your boyfriend. 

“Of course I am! Who am I to tell you what to do anyway?” He folded his arms. “Besides, this guy...”

“Y-Ye?” Mino jerked his head up, almost like he was in military. 

“He’s a good guy, as far as I know.” He smiled and patted Mino’s shoulder. “Calm down, your solo album is safe!”

“Ah... yeah, thank you very much, hyung-nim...” Mino bowed.

“Yah, yah, put your head up! Geez, you do know you’re dating my older sister. right? Technically, you’re in higher position than me now.” He laughed. 

“I promise I’ll never hurt her!” Mino suddenly said out loud. 

“Shut up...” You nudged your boyfriend, blushing.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone now.” Jiyong said, looking very amused. “Next time, if you’re planning on hiding your boyfriend, make sure his brand new released adidas shoes ain’t in your shoe rack first.”

“Dammit!” You cursed.

“Oh come on, I’ve known since you started visiting me so frequently in YG! This is just a lucky coincidence.” He said as he grabbed his bag and walked towards the front door. “I’ll see both of ya later!”

“Go away! Stop interrupting me!” You stuck your tongue out playfully. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He laughed. “Mino-ssi,” Jiyong stopped and nodded at him before finally closing the door behind.

Mino nodded back, but you could tell he was really nervous as little beads of sweat was visible under his bangs.

“Phew!” You shouted as you threw yourself on the couch. “That went well, huh?”

“Y-Yeah...” Mino said, sitting down next to you.

“See? You have nothing to worry about!” You took his left hand, still laying down beside him.

“Still, who am I compared to your brother?”

“Mino,” You said as you repositioned yourself to rest your head on his lap. “I don’t care about neither your money or fame, you’re you. You’re the best person I’ve ever met in my entire life, and you dare ask who you are?”

“Okay, that was cheesy, I totally wasn’t prepared for that...” The guy laughed but his cheeks were reddened. 

“Shut up! Said the guy who was practically yelling to my brother, saying he’d never hurt me, like he was in Japanese drama or something.” You giggled.

“Hey, missy, how about you shut up before I kiss you.” Mino grinned, now face only inches away from you.

“In that case, I would never shut my mouth then...” You smiled as you close the gap in between.

yayyy!!! I hope I did the author justice by this! :D sorry I didn’t make the reader as an idol as well, I feel like her not being an idol helped the plot nicely hehe 😅

the author that requested this is @genuinestyles​ btw! check em out! 💖

[songandashadow]

Fics I read this month. Please don’t forget to leave kudos on these amazing fics! :) 

other recs of mine: my August Fic Rec | my favorites | friends to lovers rec | canon compliant fic rec | ace! larry fic rec

***PLEASE ALWAYS READ THE TAGS FOR POSSIBLE TRIGGERS***

In Circles of You and Me by theweightofmywords | 21k 

college/uni au | friends with benefits | miscommunication | angst and fluff

Louis pulls Harry closer by the belt loops. Harry could feel his breath warm against his neck as he brushes his lips against his skin. “You know... I don’t care if you kiss other people.”

Harry smiles as he feels Louis’ stubble scratch against his neck. “I know you don’t, but-”

He stifles a moan as Louis bites down gently on the soft surface of his skin. “You can kiss other people too-”

Louis pauses to look at him pointedly. “I know I can.”

“Well, have you?” Harry asks, his brows furrowed.

“What’s it to you?” Louis retorts with a smirk. “You’re the one I’m kissing now.”

--

Or, Louis and Harry keep running into each other at parties. It doesn't mean anything, until it does.

the whole world, it is sleeping (but my world is you) by orphan_account  | 22k

x factor era | blind! harry | friends to lovers | smut | angst

Louis knows who this boy is. He saw him at the audition, on the chair in line getting interviewed. He’s called Harry, and he's got the most brilliant voice and the biggest sob story that Louis has ever heard, and what Louis knows is that he doesn't want it to be a sob story at all. His eyes are a wide, glossy sea glass green, and he can’t see a thing."

Louis never really knew commitment, never really knew love, until Harry.

The Section by bananaheathen | 11k

college/uni au | fluff and smut | banter | mutual pining | TA louis

In which Louis is a TA for an Intro to Cinema course, and Harry is an undergrad with a bit of a crush.

Or, the one with "Name: Harry Styles, Date: me please"

As usual, it’s the Irish one he hears first.

“Keep up, Styles. It’s YOUR boyfriend we’re off to see.” “He’ll have heard that, Niall, you arse. Thank you so much.”

Louis just has time to text Zayn: fuck.

The Thinker of Tender Thoughts by SpeakingWithInk | 13k

angst and fluff | asexual! louis | coming out 

Louis sits on his hands to stop them from shaking as he adds, ‘and I’m ace.’ If only he had glitter, he thinks. Coming out deserves a bit of sparkle.

Nothing But You On My Mind by nonsensedarling | 83k

royalty au | enemies to lovers | angst 

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

Heartbeats in Time by forreveries | 6k

friends to lovers | fluff | high school au | first kiss | feelings and stuff

Based on the prompt: Harry and Louis are stuck inside on a rainy day and it’s all cuddles and snuggles and then one of them kisses the other for the first time and they admit their feelings.

Baby, I think we might be too cold to float by forreveries | 81k

murder mystery | journalist! harry | exes to lovers | new zealand

They couldn’t come back together after six years apart and tell themselves that this was love that they were making. Not with all that radio silence. Harry tried to keep it all down, lodged under the lump in his throat. He needed something to focus on, something to keep him out of his thoughts, so that he could go along with this because he didn’t want Louis to take his hands off him. He didn’t want that to happen. But. But he needed it to. “Wait,” Harry coughed out, his voice trembling, “Stop.” Louis looked up at him with wide eyes. “I— I need to stop,” Harry confessed, trying desperately to keep his voice straight. “What is it?” Louis asked, full of concern. “I can’t do this. I— I can’t play along. You left me and I need answers, Louis.” His voice caught on the end of his name.

AKA: Harry is a journalist that goes to Lake Tekapo, New Zealand, to look into a girl’s disappearance after a year of no movement from police. What he finds instead is his ex boyfriend Louis, who, six years earlier, ghosted him after five months of dating in university. A story of trauma, secrets, and the power of finally letting people in.

bambi legs by disgruntledkittenface | 11k

girl direction | first date | asexual character | fluff | no smut | coming out

“Oh my god,” Zayn says, rolling her eyes and standing up. “You do know what this means, right?”

“Yes?” Harry tries, looking up pathetically and hoping Zayn will take pity on her.

“This means she doesn’t even need the fabric she buys from you every other week,” Zayn says slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “She doesn’t come here for the fabric. She comes here for you.”

Harry works at her family’s fabric store sometimes and always sells the most interesting fabrics to Louis. Louis is the wannabe fashion designer who keeps buying fabric she doesn’t necessarily need just to find a way to talk to Harry.

You Got That Somethin' by styleandsin | 5k

famous/non famous au | musician harry | strangers to lovers | no smut

How are you? Having a good time? Got a couple of beers in? What are those?” Louis hears him ask in quick succession, the loudness of the microphone making him jump even though the screams around him have yet to cease.

“It’s vodka,” Louis says, slightly unsure.

“Vodka! Oh, straight?” Harry asks, louder this time and with a growing smile.

Phoebe and Daisy have turned around to face him, huge smiles on their faces.

Fuck, this man is really going to be the death of Louis. He can physically feel his brain struggling to make his body cooperate and answer the question. He is so gay.

“No, gay!” He shouts, immediately getting an elbow to the side by his sister.

Or, the one where Louis attends a Harry Styles concert and makes an absolute fool of himself.

between chaos and control by stylinsoncity | 19k

companion piece to the wonderlands written from Louis’ POV

give me love by falsegoodnight, soldouthaz | 41k

a/b/o | slow burn | alpha harry/omega louis | fluff and smut | unsafe sex

Despite being an omega, Louis’ always had a blatant dislike of alphas.

-

Or, Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.

Indestructible by whoknows | 24k

car accident | amnesia | angst | ptsd

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob.

“Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is.

“I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him.

Louis freezes.

maybe by momentofclarity | 2k

first meetings | falling in love | age difference (L is like 30 and H is even older)

I cannot not see you again. I cannot.

breathe into your well by turnyourankle | 4k

a/b/o | omega harry | smut

A rut bar. A place where omegas who are so inclined can link up with Alphas in rut. It's not a place Louis ever pictured himself visiting but in the hopes of having a memorable rut, it's where he finds himself tonight.

Sympathy For The Devil by taggiecb | 5k

fantasy au | santa harry | satan louis 

Louis keeps stealing some of Harry’s mail, which would be annoying for anyone, but it’s especially troubling when you consider that Harry is Santa Claus. Harry will have to go through hell to get Louis to stop. Literally.

Or the one with Santa Harry and Satan Louis and a series of misspelled letters to Santa.

We Met on Lex: A Socially Distanced Romance by homosociallyyours  | 4k

girl direction | online dating | blm protests | social distancing

Tipsy on the best bottle of wine she's had in a minute, Harry decides to join Lex-- a dating app for LGBTQ+ people that doesn't rely on pictures for first impressions --and write an ad for herself. Maybe she would've forgotten about it if the first response she received hadn't been so good, but as it is she's curious to know more about this Tommo person.

If only she could stop thinking about the girl who sold her that fateful bottle of wine yesterday...

Every Story Has Its Scars, Ours Is a Brand New Start by Rearviewdreamer | 62k

WARNING: domestic violence | graphic descriptions of violence

strangers to lovers | hurt/comfort | kid fic | angst and fluff | photographer! harry

Life as a devoted husband and an amazing father turned out to be a little different than Louis had expected. Everyone tells him it doesn't have to be that way; that he's worth more and that he's so much stronger than any one person trying to keep him down. It's all just words though until he meets the one person who makes him truly believe it.

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Epilogue: What the Future Holds

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Five years later...

A/N: Here we are, folks. This is the end. I would like to thank everyone who helped me get this story to where it is. From my wonderful editors to my faithful readers — I appreciate every single one of you amazing people. Thank you so much! For reading, commenting, helping me out, talking to me, believing in me, encouraging me to continue even when it was hard. I hope the ending is satisfying enough, and that we will hang out soon when I work on my other projects. Best of regards, Mariana. ♥

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

There was nothing better than a wedding to get the old gang back together.

It had been a while since you'd seen everyone all at once.

Five long years — ever since you'd graduated high school.

There were times when it felt as if it had happened yesterday. As if you'd just said goodbye to your friends before everyone went their own way, their own direction, colleges and jobs calling.

Time sure liked to fly.

You made sure to stay in contact with everyone. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram; all tools you readily used. They were your friends. Some distance couldn't change that.

The seven of you had your own Facebook chat group that was filled to the brim with messages. Memes were shared. Laughs exchanged — in emoji form, but laughs nonetheless. News, good and bad, were told. Advices asked for and given.

It almost felt like old times.

Almost.

But not quite.

The truth was, despite how hard you tried to maintain your friendship, things changed.

Life happened.

Sam had gone to Stanford on full scholarship, dreaming big of contributing to the world, helping save it. With the way things were going, you were confident he would do it. If anyone could help make the world a better place, it was him.

In his free time, he liked to give speeches on healthy lifestyles, which, for some bizarre reason, consisted of consuming a lot of kale.

A kale smoothie had become a signature of his, the cup seemingly glued to his hand.

He'd become a hit on the internet for it. A meme everyone in your friend group shared and poked fun at. Light-heartedly, of course.

Dean was convinced Sam was doing it to embarrass him.

Sam, in turn, had told him a healthier diet would do him good.

Dean wasn't interested, and, a few hours later, had posted a picture of himself stuffing a big, greasy hamburger into his mouth with the caption #DownWithKale.

Sam was not amused.

Crowley had changed his name as soon as he'd turned eighteen. Crowley had officially become his name, Fergus long forgotten, thrown in the trash where he felt it belonged.

His family still called him Fergus.

Well, Rowena and his mother did. Gavin, the good boy that he was, had always referred to him as Crowley, which was why he was Crowley's favorite family member (his only family member, if he had any say in it).

He'd gone into studying business, rich businessman future planned out to the smallest details. He'd intended to work his way to the top; it would take a while, but he was confident hard work, combined with his cunning, ambitious nature, would earn him the throne.

Maybe, he'd mused, he could eventually open his own company. Be his own boss. Set his own terms.

May he have the best of luck.

Castiel had gone into teaching. A surprising choice of career, especially considering his awkward nature, but it was what he wanted to do. Helping kids. Guiding them by his own example.

He certainly had the drive for it.

Who knows? Maybe kids would like him. Maybe they would like his awkwardness.

Meg, not really the scholarly type, had gone to community college and had found herself working in a supermarket.

She hated her job, and she hated the customers even more. The chat was frequently filled with her rants about one thing or another that had occurred at work that particular day.

Funny stuff, usually.

Especially when she snapped at customers and got reprimanded for it, but kept doing it anyway because her boss knew all too well he couldn't afford to lose her as an employee.

Instead of a college, Dean had gone into trades. He'd opened his own little mechanic shop back in Lawrence. It was hard work, far from ideal, paid just enough to cover the costs of living, but he enjoyed it. He was happy.

That was all that mattered.

Rowena had worked hard on her intensive at Joffrey. It was a difficult three months; she was always practicing, always dancing, on her feet from dawn to dusk. You'd barely gotten to talk, aside from the weekends, which you'd spent in front of your phones or laptops, Skype open, smiles wide as you talked about each week's events.

You'd missed her so much.

Too much.

But, as with all things, the intensive had eventually ended and you'd gotten to have her home for a week — a whole week! — before college officially started.

The two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other that entire time.

It wasn't enough — seven measly days was far from enough — but it was something.

After three months of drought, it was the welcome, desperately awaited rain.

Parting for college was even more difficult. You'd each gone your own way, different as you were, each pursuing your own dream.

It was a struggle, but, like the intensive, you'd made it work.

You'd kept in contact. Skyped at every available moment. Traveled to one another's schools when the opportunity arose. Made sure to spend the holidays (the most important ones) together.

And, just like that, years had gone by, and soon enough school was behind you and you were together once again.

The decision to move in together was a mutual one. It was more of an understanding, really. With school behind you, jobs calling, and the relationship stronger than ever even all these years later, it just made sense to take it a step further.

Why wouldn't you live together?

You did everything else together, so you might as well, to quote Crowley every time he walked in on you making out, get a room.

So you did.

You rented an apartment in Manhattan. A small one that, despite its size, was warm and pleasant and felt just like home.

Your and Rowena's home.

Sometimes it felt like a dream.

As if, every moment now, you would wake up and realize the last five years of your life were nothing but a fantasy, a product of your sleeping mind.

Then you would kiss Rowena's cheek, take a sip of tea from her mug just to tease her (her glares and pouts were adorable), and smile, and the reality — your reality, one you'd worked hard to accomplish, your so wished for future — would settle in and all the silly thoughts would go away as if they'd never existed.

You'd made it.

The future you'd dreamed of, that you and Rowena had planned for so thoroughly, had come to be.

It wasn't perfect, but it was yours.

Rowena had found work at Broadway. She was a dancer, and an excellent one; with Joffrey on her resume, the job was hers the moment she'd stepped into the audition room.

You were having difficulty with finding employment yourself, but, luckily, her pay was enough to cover the living costs of the two of you.

You felt bad; the last thing you wanted was to look as if you were taking advantage. But she'd made it clear she didn't mind. You were together. A family, for no other word could describe what you had, what you'd built and grew together. What was hers was yours, and vice versa.

Being a housewife wasn't your ideal profession, if one could call it that, but it wasn't bad.

It was, dare you say it, fun.

You found yourself enjoying awaiting Rowena's return after a long, exhausting day on her feet — literally — with a loving hug, a peck on the lips, and a warm meal on the table — a delivery from a restaurant or a warmed up can, for cooking was a skill you were still far from perfecting.

You were happy.

And so was she.

The two of you made it work.

Lately, Rowena had been considering joining the Royal Ballet. It was a big step, one that required careful thinking and plenty of discussions.

Moving to another city was one thing.

Moving to another country, half across the world, on the other hand…

She'd made it clear she wasn't going to make the decision without you. This concerned you, too; if you wanted to stay in New York, you would stay.

Both of you.

She just wanted you to think about it, weigh in cons and pros.

And you did.

You'd been thinking about it for weeks.

Bless her heart, Rowena was patient. She didn't push you, or rush you, or try to guilt you. She left you to your own pace.

You were immensely grateful for it.

By the time the wedding came, you were pretty sure you'd made up your mind.

In a day or two — hell, maybe even today, after the ceremony — you would tell her.

It was a small wedding, closest family and friends only. Sam was never one for parties. He and Eileen had rented a small cottage with a beautiful yard they'd decorated themselves. Quite cheap, as far as American weddings went, but lovely.

This was a wedding for love, not luxury.

When Sam had announced he was engaged in the group chat a year ago, you weren't surprised. You'd always had a feeling he would go for it first. While Dean was a one night stand kind of guy, Sam was more the settle down type. The kind of guy who kicked ass at work during the day and then cuddled with his wife and kids at night. The picture of a family man.

And, god, would he be a good one!

He was sweet and caring, a wonderful friend, and, no doubt, an even more wonderful boyfriend. Husband material, if you ever knew one.

Eileen was equally sweet, equally amazing. A lovely girl who treated everyone like a friend and loved Sam with all her heart.

They were perfect for each other.

Seeing your gang together after five years, in person, in full color, was an experience that was almost supernatural. There was screaming and squealing and hugging and teasing. You'd forgotten how noisy you were all together.

Your mind flashed back to high school, to afternoons at Biggerson's, sipping at your smoothies and coffees and stealing fries off each other's plates.

Those were the days.

There wasn't much difference to either of you. You were older, but other than that, you still looked the same. You teased each other as you'd used to, joked as if you were still that bunch of high schoolers who had the whole world under their feet.

There were changes, obviously. Inevitably. Some subtle, others not so much.

Sam's hair was an inch or so shorter, or so it looked in the pictures (he was still getting ready, having not yet shown himself to the guests).

You followed his example, having never been one for big change. Shorter hair was shorter hair, even if only a bit.

Dean bore — proudly — a few scars. Work injuries, though you were willing to bet he'd earned a couple in the bar fights he liked to brag about.

"You should see the other guy," he always said.

You never had any particular desire to.

Crowley had a small beard, and wore it well; it made him look older, more mature.

Emphasis on look, for he and Rowena still bickered like brats.

Gavin, the actual child of the family, was more mature than the two of them.

Rowena wore less sparkly clothes (she now saved those for special occasions). Instead, she preferred to wear dress pants and blouses that you found strangely arousing.

Sometimes you got her to role-play in them. She made one delicious businesswoman.

Castiel dressed the same, trench coat over everything (even wore the damn thing to the wedding), looked the same, acted the same, however, his change was big.

It tied right into Meg's for she was seven months pregnant, and her stomach was appropriately swollen to showcase it.

She'd gained a bit of weight and dyed her hair blonde, but her character remained the same.

She was still that same foul-mouthed, opinionated firecracker of a girl.

And you loved her for it.

"You look great!" you told her first thing you saw her. Then you threw an arm around her, your other one wrapping around Castiel, and said, "I couldn't wait to congratulate you guys in person! I'm so happy for you!"

You were.

Happy from the bottom of your heart.

Ecstatic.

Proud.

The two of them had done well for themselves. Like your and Rowena's, their life wasn't perfect, but they made it work. They lived it to the fullest.

They were happy.

In love.

Excited for the baby, a joyous little accident.

You weren't the parenting type, (neither was Rowena), however, while raising a family wasn't your particular dream, you couldn't have been more excited for them.

This was what they wanted.

What kind of a friend would you be if you judged?

Families came in all shapes and sizes.

As did dreams. Ambitions. Aspirations.

Supporting them, wishing them well in any and every form — that was the true meaning of friendship.

Meg and Castiel would make amazing parents.

Weird and eccentric, but still amazing.

That baby would be one happy, very loved kid. Surrounded by a large family of aunts and uncles, all loving, caring, eager to spoil them.

Blood-related and not.

As far as Meg and Castiel were concerned, your group was family.

It was definitely better than some actual family members.

Like Castiel's father, good old Principal Shurley, who'd, a couple years ago, gotten himself into quite a bit of trouble for embezzlement.

The news didn't quite shock you as it should have. There was always something about him.

Lucifer never stopped getting in trouble. Only, once he was out of school, his daddy couldn't sweet talk his way out of it (not that he hadn't tried; Castiel talked quite a bit about Chuck's restless attempts, and failures, to save him) and thus the darling little angel had gotten himself quite a record.

Assault.

Harassment.

Battery.

You name it, he'd done it.

It turned out that the police didn't give a damn about what daddy Shurley had to say about his son's character.

They surely gave even less of a damn now that he was serving his sentence for embezzlement.

Lucifer was currently with him, doing a two year stint for… something.

It was hard to keep track when it came to him.

The current Lawrence Hugh's principal was Amara Shurley, Chuck's sister, because of course she was.

Nepotism for the win!

Though, from everything you'd heard, she was, so far, doing a great job. Far better than her brother ever did.

Castiel had cut all ties with his father and brother. He'd considered doing so earlier, but now that he was expecting a child, the decision came with ease.

He didn't want his child around criminals. Didn't want them to set the wrong example.

That alone told you he was going to be a great father.

The ceremony, modest as it was, was beautiful. Eileen, in her snow-white dress, looked like a princess. No — a queen, the veil a doubling as a crown. Sam was equally handsome, clad in a black suit that made him look somewhat older, more mature, a fairy tale prince come to life.

They said their vows with so much love on their faces you were one hundred percent certain they would make do on them to the letter.

Til death did them part.

There were smiles. Tears. So much joy it was overwhelming.

Meg was the lucky one who caught the bouquet, only to promptly, in a deadpan tone, say, "No," and shove it in Crowley's hands.

Crowley shoved it in Dean's, who shoved it back to him and started what was basically a struggle over the damn thing.

Not marriage material, your group.

Sam was the black sheep.

Laughter was exchanged.

Food — delicious! — eaten.

Drinks downed and refilled.

Dances had.

Aside from the newlyweds, Rowena had proven herself to be quite an attraction with her precise, professional moves. Everyone wanted to be her partner.

Not a dancer yourself, you had no problem with it.

However, after what had to be the tenth request, you considered charging people to dance with your girlfriend.

It was only fair.

The celebration extended long into the night. There was enough alcohol to keep everyone going.

The place, located in the middle of nowhere, was perfect for a party. No neighbors to complain about the noise. No busybodies sticking their nose in. Just a group of people having the fun of their lives, drunk out of their minds.

By the time you and Rowena arrived to your hotel, you were exhausted. There was more alcohol than blood in your veins. Your feet were killing you. Your throat ached from singing and shouting.

You hadn't even removed your clothes — shaking off your shoes, you plopped on the bed, curled up against each other, and drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up, Rowena was looking at you with a smile on her face. Your head pounding as if someone were whacking it with a hammer, eyes stinging, it took a bit of willpower to pull on one of your own.

"Were you watching me sleep?" Your voice was raspy, broken. You cleared your throat. Sucked in a breath.

God.

Singing had been a mistake.

Her smile melted into a smirk. She shrugged, nonchalant. Denying not a single thing. "I was just thinking."

"Should I be worried?" you teased.

"I'd hope not."

Her face grew serious.

Uh oh.

Now you definitely were worried.

Morning — a hungover one at that — was the worst possible time for serious conversations.

It wasn't a surprise, though.

Rowena prided herself in her unpredictability.

"What is it?" you asked, light draining from your face. Preparing for news that, at best, would be unpleasant, and, at worst, absolutely horrible.

"Sam and Eileen seem happy."

They did.

They were happy.

You nodded.

Rowena sighed, "Do you think we're happy?"

What was she trying to say? Heart racing, lump forming in your throat, you uttered a tad too defensively, "Do you think we're not?"

"Of course not!"

She seemed genuine, so there was that.

You allowed yourself a moment of relief. "Me, neither. I'm happy."

"As am I."

Good.

That was good.

You were on the same level.

She was silent for a few moments. Thought her words through. "I was just wondering if we should… take it a step further."

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

You had an inkling, but you wanted to hear it from her.

You wanted her to confirm it.

Rowena swallowed. "Get married."

It was as if all air had vanished from your lungs. Your throat was dry. Heart, once again, running a marathon. Hands shaking as if you were cold.

You weren't — you couldn't be — for as soon as the words left her mouth, a wave of heat flooded you, filled you up from head to toe.

Marriage wasn't on your list of priorities.

Wasn't on any of your lists, as a matter of fact.

You and Rowena loved each other — you didn't need a piece of paper to prove it.

But…

It would be a lie if you said you hadn't considered it once or twice.

What would it be like to call yourself her wife? To wear her ring; a promise in the form of shimmery gold?

"Or maybe just get engaged," she said after a few moments of uncomfortable, deafening silence. "Wear the rings."

You looked at her, eyes wide. Mouth trembling.

She gulped. Uncertain. Frightened. Nervous to the bone. "We don't have to. I was just… thinking out loud." She pulled on another smile — a fake on this time, hurt flickering over her face no matter how hard she tried to mask it. "Forget I said anything."

"No." You reached for her hand, twined your fingers with hers in a tight knot. "We could try."

She was stunned. "Really?"

"I don't see why not."

What was the worst that could happen?

You were already together. Already happy and crazy in love.

"We could try the engagement thing, see if it works," you said.

You had nothing to lose.

At this point, you could only gain.

Rowena beamed. A chuckle escaped her; lovely, happy. Adorable. "Okay!"

It was a perfect arrangement.

"I will get you a ring," she added. "Make it official."

"How about we both get rings?" you said. This was kind of a mutual proposal, after all. And also… "There's nice jewelry shops in the UK, right?"

It was her turn to be confused. "What?"

Your decision.

The one you'd been planning to relay to her.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect.

"We don't have to get engaged in USA, right?" you said. "Think about it. You, a Royal Ballerina. Me, a not-so-royal couch potato. That's a romance movie right there!"

Rowena gasped. Swallowed. Breathed in and out in attempts to contain her excitement. "You want to move to Britain?"

"That's what I'm saying, aren't I?" You grinned. Squeezed her hand. "I've been meaning to tell you. I figured now's the perfect time."

"Y/N, I…" She brought your linked hands to her mouth, kissed your knuckles. "Thank you! I just… Thank you, darling!"

You locked your lips with hers. Deepened the kiss, melted into it. Thought of millions of more you would share.

The future was yours.

All you had to do was seize it. Take it. Dig your claws in and never let go.

"Don't you forget me when you become a world-famous ballerina," you teased.

"Och, darling," she purred, "don't you know by now you're quite unforgettable?"

You chuckled. "Just making sure."

She pecked you on the mouth. "I love you."

"Me, too."

You'd loved her for five years.

You'd loved her when she was bad, and even more when she became good.

You'd loved her when she was away, and you'd loved her when she was here.

You'd loved her in your apartment.

You'd loved her in the United States.

And you would love her in the United Kingdom.

You loved her now, and you would love her in the future.

Forever.

And ever.

Til death did you part.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock

[letterboxd]

Life in Film: Kris Rey.

As her new comedy I Used to Go Here opens, Chicago-based writer and director Kris Rey talks to Letterboxd editor-in-chief Gemma Gracewood about turning 40, divorce, female friendships, why nobody but Jemaine Clement could pull off a scene making tea, and what we can all learn from Generation Z.

If Kris Rey’s new comedy I Used to Go Here were a typical Hollywood rom-com, it would finish just before Rey’s film starts: with Kate Conklin (Gillian Jacobs) as a newly published author, engaged to be married to a handsome guy. Instead, we meet Kate in a Bushwick apartment she can no longer afford, as her publishing company breaks the news that her debut novel (Seasons Passed; terrible cover art, purple prose) is a failure and the publicity tour is off. That’s on top of the insult that her fiancé has recently ended their engagement.

Kate is given a faint ray of optimism when her creative writing professor (Jemaine Clement) invites her back to the liberal arts college she graduated from a decade earlier, to give a talk to his Gen Z students. Leaving Brooklyn and her pregnant bestie behind, Kate dives into the nostalgia of her old Illinois stomping ground, and I Used to Go Here turns into a low-key, pot-fuelled, intergenerational romp through ideas of success, friendship, creativity, authenticity and idolization.

The film’s fans on Letterboxd include Matt Neglia, who writes: “Gillian Jacobs brings charismatic charm and restraint to her role as a writer longing for a time when we were filled with endless potential without the fear of failure.” Matt DeTurck identifies with this theme: “Relatable for anyone wrestling with fitting the pieces of their life together in ways that feel truthful.”

On the contemporary representation of university life, Alex Billington remarks that “it’s got all the college movie tropes… but it repackages all of these in a smart adult-looking-back indie film package”. Max notes that “the college kids are an invaluable addition and feel like people rather than college or Gen Z stereotypes”.

Kate (Gillian Jacobs) and David (Jemaine Clement) in a scene from ‘I Used to Go Here’.

Your film starts just after the point at which a mainstream comedy about a single white woman in her thirties would end: with Kate’s book being published to no acclaim, her engagement being broken off, everybody else pregnant except her. It runs in opposition to the happy endings Hollywood has made us expect. Kris Rey: Oh god, [that’s] so astute. No-one has said that before and I have never thought of it before, but that’s so true! I think what’s so interesting about the whole journey that she goes on, and all of our own personal journeys, is that you’re used to, like, at the end of the movie, they get married! She gets her book published! And then everything is perfect! And then you realize: ‘Oh. Oh god, okay. How do I move on from this?’ So, you’re right, that is what’s so different about this.

The other thing—and I’m sure this can be said about most films this year—is how the set-up feels weirdly right for these times, which is to say: the widespread derailment of plans that the pandemic has wrought. It’s like we’re in a strange global coming-of-age. Several Letterboxd reviews observe how, for women in their late twenties to early thirties, there’s a second coming-of-age where everything suddenly feels extremely nostalgic. The film dives into that longing feeling by literally returning Kate to her old college. It’s funny, you know, a lot of people have pointed out how this doesn’t quite fit into a category. It’s not a rom-com, it’s not a true coming-of-age film in a sense of what we know that to be. I think that part of it is exactly what you’ve just pointed out, which is that it’s about a unique period of time for women, where you do reach this precipice. Mostly, it comes out of this big ever-pressing question which is “Am I going to have a family or not?”. Not every woman, but most women, have that question in their head until they either have a baby or they reach the age where they can’t have a baby anymore. “Am I going to have this? Am I going to follow this path of domesticity? Am I going to find a relationship that works long enough to have a family with them? Am I going to have to make sacrifices in my career to make room to have a family? Am I going to find them all at once?” Men just don’t have that point, to no fault of their own, but the fault of the patriarchy in general, which is that it has to be a conscious decision for women in a way that everything revolves around that, as we go about our lives at that age.

And you’ve explored that idea in more than just this film. I loved the awkward-yet-sincere moment at the baby shower, when the friends make her hold her book alongside their third-trimester bumps for a group photo. A book is a baby, and its publication should also be celebrated! Scenes like that emphasize how well Gillian Jacobs embraced the role of Kate. What did she bring to it that wasn’t on the page? There’s such a special thing that happens when you cast anyone for anything. It certainly happened with Gillian, but also with everyone. Definitely Jemaine was a big one, which is that I don’t typically write for specific actors. I write a character, I write the dialog, and then when I cast them I think ‘oh, Jemaine Clement is going to be in this role’, so then I go back through and read the whole thing in his voice and think ‘maybe he’d say it like this instead’ and maybe after [a scene we don’t wish to spoil], he would make tea for everyone. Very few, if any, American actors would be able to pull that moment off. That is kind of what I’m looking for: who are they? Are they able to feel like real people? Because so often they feel performative.

Like versions of a person. Right. Like they’re acting like a person! Gillian is very authentic. If you were to talk to her, she would just seem like her real self, and that was what was so appealing about her for me. Gillian just really brought herself, and I learned about her as a person.

As well as great comics like Kate Micucci and Jorma Taccone, there’s a lovely assortment of inclusive young characters who live in Kate’s old student house. Where did you find them? I just flushed them out and gathered them and held them close! There’s a couple of them that I didn’t know but I had seen in other stuff. Josh Wiggins, who plays Hugo, I’d seen him act in a movie called Hellion. Forrest Goodluck I saw in The Miseducation of Cameron Post. He’s incredible in that and I knew I wanted him to play Animal. Hannah Marks was someone that was sent to me, and we talked on the phone and I just knew she would be perfect. She’s such a brilliant go-getter and filmmaker and so ambitious in her own life. Khloe Janel, who plays Emma, auditioned for me here in Chicago and she’s so good. I adore her. I was taking a walk yesterday through the neighborhood and I saw her name on a little sign—she was making these poetry zines! I bought one.

Hugo (Josh Wiggins), Animal (Forrest Goodluck) and Tall Brandon (Brandon Daley) in ‘I Used to Go Here’.

The person we need to know about is whoever the guy is who plays Tall Brandon! Brandon Daley, who plays tall Brandon, is a person that I just knew. He is on the periphery of my social circle and he had come to a few parties at my house. His buddies called him ‘Tall Brandon’, in this very demeaning way! They were of course all good friends. I thought he was such a funny character that I wrote the character based on him. But I didn’t know him. Then he heard that I had written a part called Tall Brandon and he asked if he could play the part. I was like, “I don’t think so, Brandon!”

Was he an actor? Kind of. He’s a filmmaker but he’s much younger than me and he hadn’t done anything besides his own work. But I made him audition for the role based on him! [Laughs] I don’t know, I was just like, it’s a huge role, you know? The last thing you want is someone who can’t act like themselves, which everyone struggles to do. Anyway, he was so good in the audition, so funny, and he just nailed it. He steals the whole movie! He’s just so good.

I Used to Go Here is a long way from problematic college fare like Revenge of the Nerds or the angst of St Elmo’s Fire. It feels thoroughly 21st-century, especially in how the Gen Z housemates take an inclusive, ‘sure, why not’ approach to having Kate tag along with them. What inspired the way you wrote the intergenerational aspects of the film? There weren’t necessarily college films that I was using for inspiration. I wanted the place to feel the same that she left, but I wanted the people to feel different. This is what I’m finding in my life. I’m gonna turn 40 this year, and when I interact with people in their twenties, I’m blown away by the way that they view the world and the way that they view themselves and each other. I’m so impressed by it. And I am on board with a lot of these cultural changes that we’re seeing happen before our eyes, like, the idea of gender identity has changed so much, and so quickly. I’ve never seen anything change like that in my life. The idea of consent. When I first heard it I was like, “What? You have to ask if you wanna touch someone or kiss someone? It seems so lame!” Now, I can’t believe that we ever did that! I’m learning so much. They seem so clear-headed about it all. I just think that we have a lot to learn from that generation.

The movie’s not about that, necessarily, but it’s infused into it and I wanted that to influence Kate, in her life. Some of it is specific to this generation, but some of it is also just specific to being in your twenties. The character April, the way that she thinks about the [publishing] industry and her art, and the way that Kate, who is jaded, is like, “Okay, whatever, you’re naïve, make your little magazine, but you’ll have to follow the rules.” We’ve all been faced with that before.

Kris Rey with her son Jude Swanberg on the set of ‘I Used to Go Here’. / Photo by Blair Todd

So it’s a watershed year for you, turning 40. What would you define success and happiness as now, compared to when you were in your twenties and the ideas you had about the industry then? Oh, god. Okay so I’ve also had a lot of personal growth because I got divorced this last year, which was crazy. I’ve got two kids, a four year old and a nine year old. So I’ve been through so much; it’s been such a huge change for me. I have learned a lot, but one of the things that I have learned so much is that the relationships that matter the most in my life are my female friendships. I’ve always known that, but I’ve never seen it so much as I have in the last two years, both personally throughout my divorce, and professionally through making a film without a romantic partner to lean on. Of course I have male friends that are wonderful and supportive, but my female friends, those relationships are where I’m realizing I wanna put my effort into more than any other part of my life.

Okay, it’s time for a few questions about movies that are important to you. Thinking back, what is the film that made you want to be a filmmaker? Boogie Nights was the first film that I watched when I was in high school that I thought ‘oh, this is a job, and I’m seeing someone make stylistic choices that are interesting and unique’. You can see the behind the scenes in that movie a little bit. I remember watching it and thinking ‘that would be a cool job’. I also really loved the movie Bottle Rocket in high school. I began my filmmaking career thinking that I wanted to make documentaries, and so there’s also a lot of docs that I loved. But those were the early films that made me realize that it was even a job. Unfortunately not any female filmmakers, because I think that was just so rare [then].

What is your all-time comfort favorite film? Sleepless in Seattle, no question.

There’s your female filmmaker! Yes, but with a movie like Sleepless in Seattle, it’s such a mainstream movie that I never thought of it as ‘a job’. It wasn’t until I was in high school that I saw more independent and auteurish works. But Nora Ephron is a genius. That movie is perfect in my opinion.

What’s a film that, as a teenager, felt like a mirror into your soul? That movie with Chris O’Donnell, an Irish film, Circle of Friends. With Minnie Driver! Who is also in Good Will Hunting, another film I saw in high school. I haven’t seen Circle of Friends since it came out, but it felt very real to me, that movie. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that movie to anyone!

Gwyneth Paltrow and Joseph Fiennes in ‘Shakespeare in Love’ (1998).

What is the sexiest film you’ve ever seen? Shakespeare in Love! [Laughs.] There’s two movies. One was Legends of the Fall. It was literally the sexiest movie I’d ever seen up till that point. I was very young when it came out and there was this lovemaking scene by candlelight and I was like, ‘oh, that’s what sex is!’. And then Shakespeare in Love. That scene where he’s unwrapping her? So hot.

Who is another director you’d die for? I’m such a huge fan of Nicole Holofcener. I love her films so much. I have never met her. I do know some people that know her and I am honestly so scared to meet her because I like her work so much. She’s probably my favorite filmmaker. I just vibe with everything she makes. I love the tone. I just love all of her movies.

What’s a film that we should watch after we watch yours? You should watch She Dies Tomorrow. It’s so good, and Amy Seimetz is my very, very close and dear friend. We started making movies at the same time. Our movies were supposed to premiere at SXSW on the same day, and now they are being released on the same day, and we’re just in love with each other. Amy and I are— the movies are so wildly different from each other, but her movie is so good. It is really funny, it’s really weird and it’s really appropriate for the times right now.

I feel like some reviews are missing the comedy in it. I laughed so much throughout that film. I agree: people don’t get it! Can I shout out another movie that I watched recently? Crossing Delancey. I had never seen it before and my sister-in-law texted me and she was like, “you should watch this film like right now—this seems like something you would love”. I couldn’t believe how good it was. It’s so great. It feels like it could be shot right now in Brooklyn. All the cool kids in Brooklyn are dressing exactly the same way that all the cool kids in Brooklyn dressed in 1988, or whenever it came out. She’s having a dialog with a friend and the friend is like openly breastfeeding. And the way that they’re talking about romance and all this stuff is so on point. That movie’s great.

And another female director! Joan Micklin Silver. Yeah!

Related content

Dana Danger’s chronological list of films directed by women

Appropriate Behavior: the Letterboxd Showdown of indie, slacker and mumblecore films

Quarter Life Crisis: a list by Mary, and another by Michelle

Follow Gemma on Letterboxd

‘I Used to Go Here’ is now in select theaters and on demand. All press images are courtesy of Gravitas Ventures.

[jmeddows2]

Everything I do, I do it for you (Roger Taylor x Reader)

It’s now time to give @veriloquently  my present for ‘A night at the fandom’. Be prepared for a 2,6k+ fic filled with lots of fluff (some may even call it cringe, so sorry about that).I also tried to create a visual for some of the scenes which you can catch on the ‘moodboard’ :)  anyways,I gave it a go, I hope you’ll like it - your secret santa @dtfrogertaylor ps: I’m sorry for any mistakes/weird grammar, english is not my first language, but I’m always trying my best :) Summary: It’s 1971. You’re John Deacon’s roommate, he joins a band, read for for more ;)

                    “Y’know, I’ll never get your taste of music“ startled as you were applying some makeup,when a quick glance in the mirror in front of you revealed Roger peeking into the room. Being John Deacons roommate was everything you could have ever wished for, it was very relaxing in fact. He was kind, attentive, strong, sane and quiet, so there were no wild college parties that could have kept you awake at night. John was also one of the most intelligent and independent people you’d have ever known and also witty and not as afraid of speaking up, once he warmed up to you. He was a morning person, even woke you up in time when he noticed you might oversleep and of course,the table always already decorated with breakfast every single morning, which he prepared beforehand. John was very fond of the football club ‘Queen’s Park Rangers’, but another passion of his was music. He wasn’t entirely obsessed with it though, so it surprised you when he told you about auditioning to be the bass player of a band, which you couldn’t quite believe at first, until he introduced you to his new band mates about two weeks ago. Freddie, the lead singer was somehow like John. He was shy at first, but as soon as he was on stage, Freddie turned into something else. He had the audience in the palm of his hand, which most people didn’t even realize at that time. Brian was the most caring one of them, he accidently stepped on your foot helping you reach for something on the top shelf of your kitchen and kept apologizing for two weeks afterwards, because the guilt was eating him alive. Oh Brian. And then there was Roger, the most annoying person you’d ever encountered. He was nosy and had been hanging out in John and your flat every single day now, since you’d first met. John even got quite annoyed by it, but didn’t have the heart to tell him off yet. “What do you want, Roger?” you spat playfully at him. He didn’t answer, instead he stepped into your room, admiring the posters of artists he wasn’t familiar with, or simply despised. Rock’N’Roll was the only thing that mattered to Roger, it was basically running through his veins. Almost causing him to abandon his own biology studies because of music, as he only ever started revising a week before big exams. “Who even listens to that? Or these hippies” he took a step toward the poster and squinted his eyes “Fleetwood Mac pfff” “Alright blind melon Taylor, are you done? Then leave!” you pointed towards the door. “Ok, I deserved that” he stepped back hopping onto your bed making a few of the pillows fall to the ground, as he was digging through some of your magazines that were lying on the bed, while constantly cringing because of the record that was playing in the background. You continued doing your make up. Being completely lost in thoughts, you didn’t even notice Roger staring, as he was lying on his tummy watching you intently apply some makeup along the waterline of your eye. “You’re really good at that huh?” Roger said with his elbows on the bed, hands rested under his chin as he admired you and you looked at him through the mirror in front of you when he continued: “uh with the makeup stuff. I’m sure John told you about our first gig that’s happening pretty soon? and I uhh.. Could you maybe do my makeup for it?” His sudden nervous being made you smile, as he had always been rather cocky, but you agreed to do it anyway.   “Now let’s see what else you got there” he jumped up to roam through your collection of records, expecting him to pick one from the few (hard) rock albums you owned which were ‘worthy’ of his time. Once he found the right one, he placed it on the record player and put the needle on. The record started spinning and Roger watched you, waiting for a reaction on your face when a voice started saying: “Fellas, I'm ready to get up and do my thing I wanna get into it, man, you know I wanna get into it, man, you know Like a, like a sex machine, man, Movin', doin' it, you know  Can I count it off? (Go ahead)” Then the music started. Get Up I Feel Like Being a Sex Machine by James Brown. He wiggled his eyebrows at you as your serious gaze turned into a smile. “Roger” “Hey, it’s not my record” he laughed. “I think I could get into your style of music” winking at you “I’m only kidding” He nudged your side and serious look was painted on his face.                  Roger was just inches away from your face when suddenly the door burst open. John. “oh uhm dinner’s ready” he awkwardly stumbled out of the room. “Did he come on to you or something?” John asked handing you another plate to dry off with the cloth in your hand, doing the dishes. Roger had dinner with John and you, but the awkward silence continued throughout,until he left. “You know, I don’t have to join the band, especially when it includes a guy creeping on my best friend or not treating her right” John continued, scrubbing another plate clean. Reassuring him was quite easy, at least you thought so, but John made sure to keep an eye on him every time Roger came over, or when you joined their band rehearsals. Every time Roger came over. Not a single day passed, where the blonde boy didn’t knock on your door. It was odd. He started making up little excuses for coming over. One time he claimed that his oven was broken and he couldn’t make something to eat, that’s why you thought he was just trying to scrounge around, looking for free food. Your assumptions turned out to be wrong though, when he called wanting to come over to study for uni, because there apparently had been a construction site right below the window of his living room. Of course it was a lie, which quickly proved itself when he turned up without any textbooks on him and joined John and you in watching some movies instead. It was 10pm and you were asleep, still able to make out some quiet noises from the tv, with your head on Roger’s shoulder, his arm around your shoulder resting on your back, the feeling of his soft, warm skin on your cheek and your nose lightly brushing against his soft, long hair, taking in his scent. It was a mixture of nicotine and faint cologne and it fit his whole persona. Your hand was resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Your heart clenched when he brought his other hand to your cheek, drawing circles on it with the rough pad of his thumb. Tracing along the features of your face, he audibly sighed: “If only you’d feel the same way”, continuing he brought his free hand to your long, dark hair to caress it. His soft touches were enough to make you relax and cuddle even further into his chest.   “She still asleep?” John whispered from the kitchen, as he prepared a final ‘good night’ tea for him and Roger. “Yeah” “You can stay over, wouldn’t wake her now though if you want to continue staying alive” John chuckled thinking about how you weren’t a morning person at all, the complete opposite to him, as he sipped away his tea Roger smiled, thinking about how it would feel to wake up next to you, having you wake up in his arms, when John brought him back down to earth: “I see the way you’re always looking at her. Listen, Roger we haven’t known each other for very long now, but I know that look! I’m sure she’s the only reason you’re always over, but she’s not another conquest!” John said in a serious tone, almost warning his new band member. “Don’t play with her if you don’t mean it! She’s a special girl! One of the kindest, most beautiful people inside and out I’ve ever met!” both taking a sip from their tea. “I doubt she’d like me anyway, so you don’t have to worry, Deaky” Roger took a front strand of your hair, softly twirling it around his finger, then releasing it while his eyes were fixed on your face, admiring your beauty. “Better be telling the truth, Rog, or else I’ll have to punch you in the face. I wouldn’t be so sure about her not liking you though” John got up, reaching for both empty mugs. “Quite like the new nickname. Deaky.” John smiled wishing him goodnight. You could have sworn that it was all just a dream when a soft snoring into your ear woke you up. Roger. His arm draped over your waist, legs tangled with yours holding you tight. You were in your own bed now, as he had carried you all the way to your bedroom and and you kind of felt like a little kid again, that’s been carried there by their parents. The thought alone made you smile, so you pulled back a little to get a full view of his beautiful face. Roger was still wearing his jeans, but no shirt. He wasn’t really muscular at all, while his soft dark blond hair fell in waves to his shoulders, a few locks hanging in his face. You decided to carefully brush it out with your hands and the goal not to wake him up, without success. He slowly opened his shining blue eyes and you pulled back. “Good morning” he mumbled with a smile on his face, quite unsure of how to handle the situation without making you feel uncomfortable, removing his hand from your waist. “Morning” you were staring at the ceiling, trying to hide the fact you’d been staring at him, your heart beating fast, then looking back at him again. “You didn’t have to carry me here last night” “Wasn’t going to let you have a sore back, love, besides, it’s not very gentleman like leaving a beautiful lady on an uncomfortable couch” he smiled. “well, thanks, Roger” you placed your hand on his bare chest, leaving it there a little longer than intended, when his eyes dropped down to look at your hand, then back to your lips, biting his own. Roger slowly leaned forward to put a gentle kiss on your lips when you pulled back with concern. “I have morning breath” you managed to say. “I don’t care” he placed another kiss on your lips “but you have it as well” you laughed. This time he pulled back, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink, but you couldn’t resist him anymore. Reassuring him that he was fine, you moved on top of him, crashing your lips against his, earning a moan when your hands found its way into his messy hair, his hand placed on your hip and mouths moving in perfect sync. Since then you decided to keep your little affair? Hook-ups? private. You didn’t even know how to define it, but it was hard to hide your affection/cravings for one another.  It was especially harder when the other boys were around, for example when you were doing his makeup for their first ever gig, not trying to get caught when he shamelessly placed kisses on to your face, every time you leaned forward with your makeup brush.   It all changed when one night Roger invited you over to his flat for dinner. Opening the door it revealed him in a black shirt that was halfway unbuttoned and black trousers with little white bows along the outside of each leg. He greeted you with a passionate kiss, handing you a little bouquet of roses, then leading you into his flat. “That was just the first present of the night.” He winked. “Food’s going to be finished in a second, but first” he quickly disappeared into another room, only to arrive seconds later with a ball of fluff in his arms. “This is Dusty, my neighbour’s cat” he held the cat’s paw out for your hand to take  and greet him . It was hilarious, yet adorable. His loving way of patting the cat oh so lightly made your heart clench. . “They asked me to watch him while they’re in Australia, visiting their family” he continued patting its head, but suddenly remembered the food on the stove. You took the cat from him when he headed off into the kitchen. “I didn’t know what you’d rather enjoy so I made two different meals, number one an Alfredo chicken bake and number two a pumpkin and spinach cannelloni” after placing the plates on the table, you were digging into your food, not expecting Roger to be that much of a decent cook. The dining table was also beautifully and romantically decorated with a vase of roses and tiny heart shaped décor all over the table making it seem like Valentine’s Day, and 100 percent unlike Roger. Dusty jumped on the chair right next to you, also joining in on dinner , when Roger grabbed a tiny plate to put some chicken on it for him. “Maybe we could also adopt a cat? Or a dog? “Roger asked looking up to read your reaction. “ I love animals, but dogs own  my heart.” You admitted with your mouth full of food, bringing your hand to your mouth, trying to cover it. “I thought I owned your heart, do I have some competition here?” Roger cheekily smiled. “Y’know we’d make great dog parents” he continued, shoving yet another fork into his mouth. His comment made you blush considering you’d been ‘together’ for about three months now, but eventually talking about ‘children’ even if it was just in the form of animals. “Never took you for such an amazing cook, Rog” you hugged him from behind placing a kiss on his neck as he placed the plates into the sink. “I’ll take it as a compliment, but now moving on to the next surprise.” Roger took your hand leading you into the living room. “I know I’ve been giving you quite a heart time about your taste of music but..” “Roger” you interrupted. “No, please, let me finish.” He took your hands into his, looking deep into your eyes “as I said, your taste in music.. It’s different, but so are you” brushing your hair behind your ear “ you make me such a happy man, supporting me no matter what, being always there. You were putting up with me when I was being an annoying shit, trying to get your attention. That’s why I’m asking you now. Will you be my girlfriend?” he nervously pulled out two tickets from the back pocket of his pants, which happened to be for the Fleetwood Mac show at the Marquee club in the following august. He smiled at you waiting in anticipation for an answer when you pulled him into a tight hug. It was such a sweet gesture. You knew he hated the music, but still got the tickets, knowing they were your favourite band. “Yes, yes ,yes, Roger!” you took his face into your hands and kissed his soft lips passionately. “I love you, Lucy” “I love you too, Roger” And it was true. Roger would do anything for you. He would leave the light on for you, even if it was too bright for him. Listen to records he didn’t like. Take you to concerts of bands he didn’t like. Watch the worst and cheesiest romantic movies. It didn’t matter to him, as long as you were there with him.

[ohblackdiamond]

till it shines (peter/paul, nc-17)

"Look, I'm not gonna quit, I swear. If we have to end the tour, we have to end the tour. We get dropped from the label, we get dropped from the label. We lick our wounds and we try somewhere else. But until then, we got awhile in this hotel." "And no shows." "Yeah." During a five-day lull in concerts, stranded in an Atlanta hotel, Peter and Paul find a means to entertain themselves.

Notes: Inspired and based to a heavy extent on a very lovely, NSFW fanart concerning Paul's on-tour artistic endeavors. No, not the ones he showcases in galleries. 

“till it shines”

by Ruriruri

It was the last day of the Gay Kitchen, with honorable maitre d's, cooks, servers, and busboys Peter Criss and Paul Stanley manning KISS' dwindling hotel fridge and supply closet. At least, it was supposed to be. Peter didn't know if after last night, it was still on the table.

At first, they'd really wanted to go all-out with the band dinners, but their budget hadn't permitted it. One last hurrah before they had to limp back to New York, with a single failed record to their names and all the notoriety of four strays in a junkyard. Back to Lydia for Peter-and Lydia wasn't so bad, Lydia wasn't so bad at all; she'd supported him through worse screw-ups and disappointments, but it was what she represented. A guy who still wasn't paying the bills four years into the marriage wasn't any better than a bum. She'd thought she'd found somebody who'd be going places. She'd been wrong.

For Paul, the prospect of going home was just as disastrous. At least, that was how he made it out to be. He'd get into these depressed rambles about his parents and his sister and his niece and how coming back just wasn't an option.

"Not an option? C'mon, you were in college, what, a couple of quarters-"

Paul had winced and licked his lips, a quick, nervous tic Peter had gotten far too accustomed to seeing as the band's money situation worsened.

"I only went a week. Don't tell Gene." And a swallow. "Look, it's stupid. I know. But I was born to play rock and roll, okay?"

"You're preaching to the fucking choir."

"I mean. if I can't do this, if I can't make this happen, I might as well not be here. This is the only outlet I've got."

Peter had rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to groan. Overblown as ever. Paul thought Peter was the dramatic one, the tetchy one, just because he had enough balls to address what was pissing him off instead of keeping it to occasional bitchy comments. Paul never seemed to hear his own whines.

"You think you're the only one with a dream around here?" Peter couldn't even bite back the rest. "How old were you when the Beatles got on Ed Sullivan? Ten?"

"Twelve," Paul had grumbled back. "Don't make this an age thing-"

"I was just out of high school. And I was already in bands-"

"Pete, I know, I know already. You keep telling me." Paul heaved a sigh. "You keep telling all of us."

"You've got to pay your dues, that's all it is."

"Got to pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues." The right edge of Paul's mouth was starting to perk up.

"Yeah." Peter tugged absently at his bangs, trying not to let himself get too good a look at what he'd been seeing since before he even auditioned for KISS. The semi-permanent dye they all used worked fine on brown hair, but past that first wash, it was useless on gray. The streaks were more obvious against the jet-black backdrop than they'd ever been when he left his hair alone. "Look, I'm not gonna quit, I swear. If we have to end the tour, we have to end the tour. We get dropped from the label, we get dropped from the label. We lick our wounds and we try somewhere else. But until then, we got awhile in this hotel."

"And no shows."

"Yeah." No shows for the next five days at least. Their last pitiful handful of concerts, they'd opened for some redneck band. Outlaws or something. That was another depressing thing. Peter had always expected to at least be friendly with the bands they were the lead-in for, but they'd only been met with indifference at best and hostility at worst. Never ended up opening for the same band more than a few times, either. It just made the whole tour all the lonelier.

He realized after a second that Paul was staring at him. The guy had a weird stare. Kind of like a broke bagboy waiting on his tip, or maybe just like a girl who was really hoping for a proposal. Big-eyed, eager, and not remotely calculating. It might have pissed Peter off, if Paul didn't always follow it up with an abashed grin once he was caught.

"You're thinking about something," Paul said, before Peter could make the accusation himself.

"Yeah. I'm thinking we all need cheering up."

"You need cheering up, Peter."

"You just finished telling me you'd die if you didn't make it, Paul." He paused, still staring at the fridge. "And fuck, I'm gonna die if I have to eat at McDonalds one more time."

"Well, they've got Steak 'n Shake here, if you'd rather."

Peter groaned.

"Not when you're in a fucking blouse and heels. The crowd thinking we're fruits is bad enough." Before Paul could even stammer out a protest, something about it being rock and roll, or about needing more practice in the heels-God, c'mon-Peter continued. "No. I thought we could make our own dinner while we're here. Really make it, not just sandwiches and shit. Real food. We got the kitchen for it. And it'd save Bill some money. You know how to cook, right?" He knew Gene didn't. Ace just wouldn't.

"I'd hope so. My mom started leaving us home alone when I was eight."

"Poor, poor little Paulie." Peter rolled his eyes. "We could-we could make it themed, even. Make out like it's a restaurant. Menus and shit. Invite the guys down for dinner."

Paul brightened, which surprised him. Usually he'd be sore for hours over the slightest crack at his expense, like some spoiled, anxious kid. But for once, he actually seemed excited.

"Like Italian one night, maybe? We could make pizza."

"Yeah, sure, lemme get a shopping list going."

After three beers apiece, they'd named their restaurant the Gay Kitchen, decided they'd act the part of its bent proprietors, and written up a menu full of double-entendres. An hour later, still drunk, they'd pooled their money and ventured out to town in jeans and the lowest of their heels. They'd bought twenty bucks' worth of groceries, which should have been plenty. Then they'd started in on meal prep.

Strange how fun it was. Especially that first night, working on a poor man's casserole, with the radio on and Paul standing next to him chopping up onions, his hands encased in Ziploc sandwich bags because he didn't want the smell on his skin, while Peter cut half-frozen chicken breasts into ragged little cubes. They'd tossed the whole thing into the pan with some salt and pepper, dumped a can of cream of mushroom soup on top, stuck it in the oven and hoped for the best. He knew they should've gone with canned stuff entirely, especially for the meat, if they'd really wanted to save money, but the Gay Kitchen experience demanded the expenditure. At least, that was their excuse.

Besides, Ace and Gene had loved it. Not for the food so much. Peter figured their dinners were decent, maybe even good, sometimes, but he couldn't kid himself. There was nothing impressive about a dessert course that included Hostess cupcakes "with fresh Cool Whip." But the makeshift restaurant had done the job. Cheered them all up. No one said a word during any of the dinners about the tour ending or going back home. Not a single word. And he and Paul had screwed around, too, acting faggy, hitting on each other and the guys indiscriminately throughout the meals. Last night, Paul had even groped his ass while he was mincing around plating everyone's food.

"I had to take him off the menu." Peter could've sworn Paul was deliberately making that annoying lisp of his even worse during each dinner. Pitching his voice into a whine, too. Some commitment. Peter had glanced up, questioningly, but Paul had just ignored him and continued. "You see why, right? He's got such a nice ass-all the boys were looking, I couldn't help but get jealous-"

"Course you're jealous. You dieted yours off, Paulie," Ace had retorted with a laugh. Peter had been vaguely surprised Paul didn't break character at that, just clicked his tongue disapprovingly, his hand still on Peter's ass. Not squeezing anymore, thank God, but Peter had still felt the ghost of Paul's fingers there hours later when they'd both turned in for bed.

Looking back, maybe that was where it had really started. Glancing over at Paul on the double bed next to his, watching him, knees up, with the pad of hotel stationery in his lap and a pencil in his hand, Peter had cleared his throat. Paul lifted his head from where he'd been scribbling.

"Yeah?"

"What're you drawing?"

Paul held up the stationery without a hint of embarrassment. The usual weirdly accurate assortment of veiny, disembodied dicks covered the page.

"What do you always draw those for, anyway?"

Paul shrugged.

"I dunno. Why does Gene refuse to shower?"

"Because his mom told him even his B.O. was sacred." Peter rolled his eyes. "You got a fixation."

"<i>You've</i> got a fixation. You're the one always getting your dick out."

"Getting it out's not the same as drawing it. . That's not even your dick. Whose do you keep on-"

"I went to art school, asshole." There wasn't much of an edge to Paul's words, Peter noticed. "Life drawing comes with the territory."

"In high school? Jesus." Peter cocked his head, trying to decide if Paul was bullshitting him, but Paul was already back to doodling, his eyes averted. "You ever gonna attach them to anybody, or are they just gonna keep floating around?"

"Well, I thought I'd attach them to you, but then I realized that'd mean I'd have to draw your face."

"Oh, fuck you, Paul." He didn't know why, but he got up then, moved to sit on Paul's bed. Paul stopped scribbling just long enough to shift over for him. Peter leaned in, vying for a better look at the sketches. Six, no, seven dicks, from a couple different angles, all varying levels of erect. The balls were so accurate it was almost disturbing. "Ain't even mine. They're too small."

"These are scaled down."

"The shape's wrong, too. Was that one supposed to be bent like that?" Peter pointed at the offending cock, right in the center of the paper. He kind of thought it was intentional. There was something uncanny about Paul's artwork-well, the dick drawings, anyway. His other offerings, at least the ones Peter had seen-splattery acrylic abstracts from his high school portfolio, and the occasional insulting cartoon of his bandmates on the back of a paper napkin-lacked that attention to detail. And that enthusiasm. It was weird. Forget the rockstar shit; Peter almost wondered if Paul's true calling was illustrating gay porno mags.

Paul shifted the paper, blinking at him slowly.

"Are you really critiquing my doodles here?"

"Well, yeah. If you're gonna draw dicks, at least don't draw them bent."

"What's wrong with drawing them bent? Some guys have fucked-up dicks."

"Who do you know with a fucked-up dick? Gene?" Paul's was fine. Smaller than his, sure, but there wasn't anything the matter with it. Peter got a good look at it in the showers after concerts, and during occasional threesomes with college girls that didn't qualify as groupies. Paul didn't care about nudity any more than he or Ace did, which was a relief. Especially since Gene was so weird about it. Months on the road and he still wouldn't strip down in front of the band. Peter had asked Paul why. Paul had said something about Gene going to some Jewish school and that giving him hang-ups, which sounded ridiculous to Peter. If Jewish school was anything like Catholic school, then it was a flimsy excuse for changing in closets and behind closed doors like some chick. Gene probably just had something terribly, shamefully wrong with his dick. Smallness or herpes or both.

"What? No."

Pete scooted over some more. Paul's posture was slightly stiffer than it had been before, but he still moved to give Peter room. Not that the double bed had much space to begin with.

"Does that mean you've seen it?" Peter wasn't sure why he was pressing the issue. Probably because Paul didn't seem all that uncomfortable. In fact, ever since the start of the Gay Kitchen, he'd been more relaxed, more talkative. It'd been nice. Peter watched Paul's lips purse for a second before he replied.

"Come off it. I don't have the right equipment for the privilege."

"Just eat some more and you'll get the tits down."

"Oh, fuck you, Pete." Paul jabbed his elbow into Peter's ribs, just hard enough for Peter to jerk back, but after a second he was scooting in closer again, just to prove he couldn't be nudged off that easily.

Maybe it had been a lower blow than Peter had meant to take. God knew the poor guy worried more about his weight than a chick. Lydia once said Paul was shaped like a rectangle. Just thick, straight lines from his shoulders all the way to his ass, and no definition anywhere. And he had been, but that wasn't the case these days. Paul had ended up with a bad bout of stomach flu about a month and a half into the tour. He would pull himself together enough to do the night's show, but afterwards, Peter'd had to listen to him get up, agonized and grunting, at two in the morning, and hear him retching into the hotel toilet. Paul had probably dropped fifteen pounds since then. Maybe more.

He looked better now. His abdomen still wasn't flat and he still cinched in his waist with a corset onstage, but Peter figured Paul did look a little closer to-well, whatever the hell a frontman was supposed to look like-and a little farther from the shy kid from Queens who drove the band's milk truck to and from gigs. Shouldn't be something Peter was already nostalgic about, especially since they were probably right about to head back to the milk trucks and ballrooms, but he was.

He could hear the scratch of Paul's pencil against the stationery. Paul wasn't going to retort. He'd just sulk and doodle more dicks until he got tired enough to turn off the lamp and tell Peter to get off the bed so he could sleep. Peter licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, and he spoke.

"You know what? Maybe you should draw mine."

He hadn't thought the comment through. It just splattered from the corner of his brain to his mouth. Maybe he was just trying to get a response out of Paul, see if he could come up with an insulting way to put him off, or if he'd just stammer out a refusal. Instead, all Peter got in return was a raised eyebrow.

"Your dick?"

"Yeah, my dick."

"You're volunteering?"

Shit. Shit, now he had to commit to it. Peter shrugged, somehow managed a tilted sort of grin, and leaned back on his hands.

"Why not? Least that'd keep you from doing all those crooked, veiny ones."

"Yeah, 'cause yours is fucking Adonis,' right-"

Adonis must've been some underground rocker only college kids had ever heard of. Peter wasn't about to admit to his own ignorance.

"Nobody's complained yet. C'mon, Paulie, how about it?"

Paul hesitated visibly. Peter almost didn't think he was going to agree to it. Too nerved-out by the suggestion. But then Paul nodded, his black curls-somewhat limper without the Aquanet and teasing brush forcing them into bushy, puffy proportions-bouncing slightly as he did.

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead."

Peter yanked off the ratty pajama pants that were all he ever went to bed in, tossing them to the floor. Turned around so he was facing Paul head-on, legs stretched in front of him. He could feel Paul staring at his face, and then at his cock, as he tore out the doodle-covered paper and started on the fresh one beneath. He hadn't gotten more than a few scribbles in when Peter realized-

"Hey, wait a minute. You're not drawing it soft."

"I'm just gonna draw what I see."

"No, you aren't. Hang on."

"Hang on?"

Paul blinked, the beginnings of a mild smirk edging across his face. The expression didn't really sit right on him, somehow. Paul's mouth seemed to Peter to only really look okay when it was either pursed in a pout or spread in a hopeless kind of smile.

Luckily, that smirk of his dissolved as soon as Peter closed his hand around his dick, starting to pump. He didn't look at Paul while he was doing it, not at first, his gaze veering more towards the pad of paper and the burnt orange florals of the covers. His breath wasn't hitching yet, but the pleasure was starting to seep through on practiced automatic. A little harder. A little faster, and Peter's brow was furrowing, eyes glazed, focus on anything but his own dick starting to fade.

Except it couldn't fade completely. Not with Paul barely a foot away from him, his big brown eyes furtively darting between Peter's cock and the pencil, his mouth tight. Looking over at him, Peter could almost swear he saw the faint start of a blush cropping up on Paul's cheeks. "Jesus, relax, would you? I'm not gonna come here."

"Wow, isn't that a relief," Paul mumbled, rolling the pencil back and forth between his finger and thumb.

"'S not like you haven't seen this before." A solid five or six times by now, minus the fact that it was usually a girl's mouth or hand on Peter's cock instead of his own. They weren't great at sharing the not-quite-groupies yet. It had taken awhile before they figured out positioning that'd get all three of them off, and that always hinged on whether the girl was down for it. Once they'd ended up with a chick who'd gotten too intimidated by two guys at once, and after a round of debate over who'd go first, Paul had ended up slinking off to the shower while Peter made it with her. Unsurprisingly, she'd been so satiated she'd fallen asleep by the time Paul returned, and they'd both had to lug her out of the hotel room and into the hallway. Paul had been pissed off. Peter just found it funny.

Paul looked as if he were about to say something, but then he shut his mouth. Peter exhaled, letting his eyes shut for a second while he kept pumping, no fantasy in mind, just the simple mechanics of pleasure. Jacking off was mindless, with or without an audience. Nothing meaningful. Nothing to consider. And Paul, for whatever reason, was still just watching him do it. That pencil lead hadn't even touched the paper. Peter took a sharp breath before he spoke again.

"Good enough?"

He'd stopped himself once he was fully hard, but before any precome could dribble out from the reddened tip. He could feel his face getting flushed, a little sweat starting to trickle on his forehead, but he was all right. If things got too bad, he could always head over to the shower to finish rubbing it out, after Paul was done drawing. But he didn't think it would come to that, though his cock twitched in protest. Paul gave a distracted nod.

"Yeah. It's fine."

Then he finally started to draw again. Peter leaned over, trying to get a glance in, but Paul kept covering up the pad with his other hand, swatting at him when he got too close. Peter snorted.

"C'mon, you're not drawing the Mona Lisa here."

"You throw me off watching."

"What'm I supposed to do, just sit here?"

"That's exactly what you're supposed to do." Paul was erasing now, but carefully. One of those cheap pink erasers. He brushed the residue off the paper, and it landed on the covers, tiny black streaks of rubber against the orange comforter. Deprived of watching Paul at work, Peter tried to focus his attention on the eraser remnants, flicking them.

It didn't really help. Despite himself, Peter was starting to squirm. He didn't think Paul was drawing anything past his dick, but he'd been trying to stay still anyway. His thighs kept twitching involuntarily. The ache in his balls was getting irritating enough that he gave in to a few more strokes, shoving his hand in the covers as soon as he heard Paul laugh.

"You having trouble keeping it up?"

"Fuck you, you know that's not it-"

"Gimme a couple more minutes, all right, Pete?" A pause. "And get a little closer, there." He reached his hand out, fingers curving lightly around Peter's bare knee, just for a second. Immaculately manicured nails, bizarre for a guitarist, even one who hadn't played a gig in almost a week. The black nail polish hadn't even chipped. But Peter only really noticed how the warmth against his skin seemed to linger on after Paul had withdrawn his hand. "There."

Peter got closer. His legs were flat on the bed and spread slightly, toes touching the wall by the time he got closer; he'd ended up more to Paul's side. His painfully hard, flushed dick stood out sharp against the rest of his body, craving attention he couldn't-wouldn't-give yet. He'd get that touch in later. He'd get off on his own. A couple more minutes, like Paul said. Yeah.

The amused expression on Paul's face had shifted, gotten focused and intent. The way it did when he was trying to pull a riff together, or a set of lyrics. Peter didn't much care for that look-usually it meant Paul would try to banish whoever was in the same room, whether it was him or Ace or even Gene, so he could be alone with whatever brilliant thoughts he had. But now that look was locked on him instead. Partially. Flattering, maybe, to be mulled over like a rhyme that didn't flow, or a chord that wasn't right yet, but Peter knew that if he thought too hard about it, he'd get disgusted. So he just let his mind wander to the sound of Paul's pencil scraping across the page.

Peter didn't really notice at first when that sound stopped. Or when Paul put the pencil down. The pad of paper was still resting on his lap. Peter inhaled, waiting, figuring Paul would hand it over-with a joking autograph, probably-any second-but then a mass of dark curls ended up right in Peter's face. Paul was leaning in, heavily, breaths hot and heavy against Peter's neck. He pushed away the pad of paper, his bare chest pressed up flush against Peter's. Peter opened his mouth, started to say something, and then swallowed it down when Paul's hand wrapped around his dick.

Peter couldn't believe it. Didn't protest or argue-didn't want to. He was surprised, that was all. Surprised Paul would go for it. Have that kind of nerve. Paul didn't pull back enough to look him in the eye. Didn't say a word.

His palm was sweaty against Peter's cock, fingers only a little callused. The first few strokes were too slow, unintentional teasing, but then Paul got steadier, built up a rhythm. Like doing it to yourself, Ace had told him once, lazily, in the worst and best advice Peter had ever gotten on handjobs, but different. Different. Peter could feel Paul's heartbeat against him, like a pinball smashing against the bumpers. Each breath was getting more tattered, soft curses forcing their way from Peter's throat; each inhale pushed more of Paul's Aramis cologne into his lungs. Peter's hands, curled up into the covers, flew up desperately as he got closer, warmth and need pulsating inside him, threatening to burst-clenching Paul's shoulder, his back-holding him there, right there, as he spilled into Paul's hand.

Paul let go as abruptly as he'd started. His whole body froze up, and he shifted backwards, brushing away Peter's hands, dark eyes wide, almost scared. He scrambled off the bed and onto Peter's, yanking the covers around him like a little kid caught up too late.

"Paul?"

"I'm sorry," he said, and shut off the lamp.

--

Peter got up early the next morning, before the alarm clock, but it didn't matter. Paul was already gone-got a cab, evidently, leaving everyone else with the crappy tour bus. Peter could hear Ace and Gene grumbling about it through the wall before he got out of bed, stopping short of the pad of paper and pencil on the floor. He picked both up and took a look.

The drawing was immaculate. Paul had gotten the balls just right. Everything. Taken the time to shade it, even, like it was a serious study. He'd signed it, too-initialed it, rather, P.S. nestled in a forlorn corner. No date. Peter tore the sheet carefully from the pad of paper, looking at it, unsure of what to do with it. Whether to keep it or not. He ended up setting it on the nightstand, face down, before crossing over to what had been his bed up until last night. He didn't have to pull back the sheets to see the semen stain from where Paul had wiped off his hand.

He could've used some washing off himself after last night. No Paul hogging the shower was an empty comfort right now, as Peter turned on the water, letting it get blisteringly hot before stepping inside. It didn't really help.

Paul was back before lunch, anyway, quiet and withdrawn. Bill was talking about booking them a couple more shows further down South-a terrifying prospect, but better than heading home-and Gene was chatting about it with all his usual enthusiasm, while Ace added vodka and ice to his coffee. Paul just looked sunk. Gene kept throwing questioning looks Paul's way, and glancing at Peter, but if he ever asked outright, Peter never heard it.

The band meeting drifted off into nothing after awhile. Paul got up abruptly, saying something about a headache, and excused himself with about as much subtlety as a dying animal. It was a few minutes before Peter got up the nerve to follow him back to their room-and, as expected, Paul had locked the door.

"Paul, c'mon-"

The sound of the knob turning was almost gratifying. Paul was standing there, looking awkward, mouth pursed. Peter noticed, belatedly, that for all Paul had gotten up early that morning, he hadn't shaved, stubble poking hopelessly all around his jaw. His t-shirt and jeans-one of maybe ten street outfits he'd rotated over the tour, same as Peter, same as everyone else-were rumpled past what Paul usually would allow for.

"You didn't have to come check on me."

"I did, we share a room."

Paul swallowed.

"Look, if you wanna change rooms, go ahead, just don't tell Gene about-"

"I ain't telling Gene nothing. And I don't wanna change rooms." Pete exhaled. The look on Paul's face twitched just a bit, but Peter didn't give him a chance to respond before plowing back in. "Are we gonna do Gay Kitchen tonight?"

Paul flinched. Almost like he thought Peter meant it badly, or was making fun of him, or something. Like one of those Japanese trees, the ones with flat leaves that folded up after the briefest brush of a hand. One word and he'd curl back up. One touch, leaving Peter all out of sorts, trying to undo the trick, get those leaves to unfurl again.

"Do you want to?"

"Ace was asking earlier."

"Oh." Paul turned away, walking over to the kitchenette on the other side of the room. He pulled open the fridge, getting out the last can of Coke, popping the top before he really answered. "I guess."

"C'mon, it's our last night here. It'll be fun."

"We're almost out of food."

"We've got enough. Still have those hot dogs." Peter felt awkward, still standing there, barely past the doorframe, as if he was a visitor to his own hotel room. He stepped over to sit on one of the beds. The drawing wasn't on the nightstand anymore. "Hey-"

"What?"

Peter's throat was suddenly a little dry. The words were out before he could hold them back.

"You didn't have to get rid of it."

"It was stupid."

"No, it wasn't. It-it was good, Paulie."

Paul was still all tensed up. Like a battery coil on the verge of springing. Peter almost thought he was going to walk out, more prepared to face Gene and Ace or another lousy cab ride than spend the rest of the day with him, but instead, Paul sat down on the other bed.

"You really don't wanna change rooms." He said it flatly, borderline disbelieving, clasping the Coke can in both hands. He looked strangely young, sitting like that. The six years between them never felt like much except when Peter really let himself give it some thought. At twenty-two, he sure as hell hadn't been on the road with a record, however indifferently-received. Hadn't made it-with threesomes, even-with a whole bunch of girls. He resented it when he considered it, but right now, all Peter was considering was the tightness of Paul's lips and the way he was staring at the floor.

He was just a kid, really. Scared of getting rejected as any other kid, hell, as any other adult. Putting on onstage, putting on during their dinners, only ever peeling back how he really was during all the time in between. The worries and frets, the painful, painful shyness behind every sharp retort. The panicked heartbeat against Peter's chest last night as he'd pushed past his nerves for something he wanted.

Something Peter wanted, too.

"Fuck, no. You and me are the only ones around here that know how to pick up our own shit."

"Pete, that's not it-"

"No. No, it's not it. C'mere. C'mere," he said, quietly, scooting forward on the bed, hands resting awkwardly on either side of him, those orange covers clashing badly with his chipped black nail polish and cheap silver rings. He watched as Paul set down the Coke can and stood up, crossing the tiny threshold between their beds. He still looked like he was about to flee. One wrong word, one sudden movement and it'd be over.

So Peter was slow, agonizingly slow to take his arm and tug him forward. Paul let him do it, didn't go rigid at all, though the fear in those wide eyes was still there. Peter wanted it to fade; suddenly, he wanted it to fade more than anything, as he got to his feet, palm hot against Paul's arm. As he leaned in, pushing Paul's dark curls behind his shoulder, and pressed his lips to Paul's neck.

Paul didn't respond at first. Then, just as Peter was about to pull away, he felt Paul's other hand close around his. Too shy to even lock their fingers together. But that was all right. That was all right. Peter did it for him, shifting his hand in Paul's until their fingers were laced. He raised his head, and Paul's mouth met his, cautious and careful. None of that too-eager fooling around like with the girls. None of that silent desperation from last night. Peter liked this better, every second feeling warmer and fuller than the last. As if he was just on the brink of discovering something grand as his tongue slid across Paul's lips and he let go of Paul's arm to trace the stubble on his jaw, cup his chin in his hand. Paul parted his lips for him, Peter tasting cereal and toothpaste when his tongue slipped inside, but he didn't care. Paul was opening up for him. Finally opening up.

It wasn't too long before Paul started pressing up against him, hips rocking meaningfully against his. Somewhere along the line, he'd ended up with Paul's hair in his fist, and he tugged, lightly, urging him forward as he sat back down on the bed. Tugged his hand, too, as if he needed to. Paul got the picture, following him down, timidity shifting to urgency, until Peter's back was pressed against the mattress. Peter thought about yanking his hair hard for that one, and he might have, except Paul kept kissing him all the way down, except Paul's knee was rubbing against his crotch, his thin blue jeans barely a barrier at all.

Peter's breath hitched as Paul shifted lower, moving off of him enough that Peter could shuck off his own shirt and toss it to the floor. Paul was unzipping him, those long, thin fingers hooking around his belt loops and pulling down his jeans. Freeing his cock, already far too hard, worse than last night, easily. Peter took a sharp inhale when Paul sank down, pushing his thighs apart with his knee, and started to lick at his cock. All the way down, pouring on the attention, fingers pressing hard against his hips, keeping them steady. Peter watched, dazed, breaths hitching, until Paul's warm mouth was around just the tip of his cock.

"Paul, hold on."

Paul pulled back, lifting his head like he'd done something wrong.

"What?"

"You don't know how to do it, don't worry about it." It was just a guess, but Peter figured it was a good enough one. And that wasn't all of it. He didn't think Paul would give himself enough leeway for a screw-up. Perfection or nothing.

Paul hesitated.

"But-"

"It's okay, man." It was hard to think past the blood pumping straight to his dick, going untouched for now, but Peter was managing, barely. The brief image of Paul with his lips around his dick was promising enough, the lead-in for a dozen jerk-off fantasies already. Maybe more than that. "Just-c'mon, let me-"

He tugged Paul back up, helping him peel off his t-shirt, then his jeans and underwear. Taking him in like this, with no girl between them, didn't feel strange or wrong or any of that bullshit; it felt good, every shed layer lending Peter more skin to touch, making him more certain of everything. Despite the concert performances, despite the threesomes and the locker room showers, he'd never really gotten a sense of Paul's physicality before. Now that Paul was straddling him, hair hanging in his face, mouth pressed to his neck, his ear, Peter could really see it all, the wide, powerful build of his chest before it bore down against Peter's, his arms, taut and muscular, tensing as Peter's hands tightened around them. Paul's cock brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through Peter, and then he was grinding up against him, their hips flush, flesh against flesh. Peter was cursing before long, the stimulation maddening, almost agonizing because it wasn't quite enough. Paul seemed like he sensed it, reaching over, taking both their cocks together in one hand-but Peter shook his head.

"I've got a better idea."

"Yeah?" Paul's fingers rolled up against his cock just so, the pressure of his hand and his dick incredible enough that Peter almost changed his mind. Looking up at him, that slightly-sweaty brow, those dark eyes, dilated and needy, Peter nodded, fingers closing on Paul's wrist.

"Yeah. I already know you can jack me off." An exhale. "Get on your back and I'll show you what I can do."

Paul let go of him. There was a little consternation somewhere in his expression, a hesitancy Peter tried to erase, hand running down Paul's hairy chest, fingers tweaking a nipple, but Paul did as he'd asked, grasping Peter by the shoulders and rolling them both over. Peter shifted, repositioning himself on top of Paul, putting his hands beneath his thighs. Almost immediately, Paul stiffened up, started to try and lift up his legs. Peter pushed them back down before he could.

"Nah, we're not doing that. Don't worry." Peter watched some of the tension fade from Paul's face, curiosity replacing it. "Spread your legs out a little. there, now." He slid his dick between Paul's thighs, tip right up against Paul's taint. He didn't need to instruct further. Paul's mouth tilted in a distracted grin, his thighs closing tight around Peter's dick-and from there, Peter started to thrust, the soft warmth surrounding his cock nearly overpowering.

Paul was finally making a few sharp sounds as Peter's thrusts sped up, thighs squeezing hard against his cock. The sounds got louder, turned into curses, turned into strangled attempts at Peter's name. Between Paul's moans and his own urgency, Peter couldn't think, his pace speeding up, every brush against Paul's cock, every tensing of Paul's thighs pushing him closer to the brink. He came with a cry, spurting hot between Paul's legs, Paul still urging him to keep going, just a few more, a few more. He managed, grunting, shuddering with exertion as he kept thrusting. Beneath him, Paul looked out of it and focused all at once, dick throbbing against his. So close. Too close. It was seconds before Paul came, quieter, spilling all over them both, head lolling back in the aftermath. Peter was still panting as he slid his cock out from between Paul's slick thighs, as Paul put an arm around him, pressing a kiss to his jaw, his cheek, before finally meeting his lips again.

--

The Gay Kitchen's final evening went well. Ace and Gene had brought dessert-a box of oatmeal creme pies and a gallon of cheap Neapolitan ice cream-and they'd served it along with the hot dogs and stale chips. A beer apiece, except for Gene, who got a Sprite from the machine downstairs in a rare spendthrift moment. Paul's come-ons and gropes weren't any heavier than the night before, but there was a warmth and a relaxation in him that was new to Peter. A softer look to his expression he'd only been privy to late, late at night in the hotels, just before he drifted off.

Peter liked that. He liked that a lot. Feeling that, maybe, something of Paul's might be reserved for him. That maybe he'd be let in for more than an afternoon. He thought he might be. He figured he would be.

They didn't fool around that night. They didn't really have the time to. Once dinner was over and Ace and Gene had gone back to their room, Peter took a shower, and then he started packing, too-aware of how quick check-out came. Particularly when they were headed straight down to the bottom edge of Florida tomorrow, a solid ten or eleven hours on the road, to play at some college or auditorium or-something. Peter was just glad Bill had secured them another handful of tour dates, no matter the location.

He tossed his makeup kit and street clothes and shoes back into his suitcase, fiddling with the wobbly latches, tracing the crack down one side. Ten to one the damn thing would break before they got out of Atlanta, but maybe he could tie a scarf around it or something to hold the luggage together. He turned to Paul, who was sitting on the floor next to him with his own ratty suitcase half on his lap, about to ask him, but Paul spoke first.

"You forgot your heels."

"I didn't. They're in the laundry bag with everyone else's."

"Not the ones that go with your costume. The other pair." Paul pointed under the bed. There they were, three-inch platforms he'd barely worn all tour, neatly placed. He didn't remember putting them there.

He pulled them out, a piece of paper under one heel catching his eye. Setting the heels aside, he picked up the paper.

"Paul?"

It was the drawing of his dick. Paul hadn't thrown it away after all. He glanced over at him, and Paul smiled, a little bashful. That hopeless smile he hadn't been able to plaster on a single promo picture, more endearing and elusive than any sketch.

"It's for you. I don't know if I'd frame it, but."

Peter felt himself grin back.

"Are you kidding? It's the best drawing of my dick anyone's ever gonna give me. I'll keep it forever." Peter held it up, examining it anew. "There's only one problem."

"I thought you were done critiquing my art."

"Hell, no." And Peter handed it back. "You gotta sign it for me."

"I initialed it-"

"Sign it. Make it worth a million bucks someday." Peter didn't think he'd stop smiling as he leaned over, tousling Paul's hair. "You can even add the star."

[siriuslycollins-blog]

Single Dad Jared Headcanons

1992-1999

- becoming a father was not something on jared’s to-do list, he was still 20 years old (she was born early in the year) but he thought everything would okay if he had the mother of the child on the parenthood journey with him

but everything wasn’t okay

the mother died shortly after delivery

he was heartbroken and now here he is, a 20 year old struggling actor, and now father to a newborn daughter

- plans of moving to new york are now shot as he has to take care of a baby

speaking of

instead he now travels between louisiana and california for auditions

relying on his mom and shannon to watch her while he’s away until he has enough money to rent an apartment so they could move there.

- jared gets work sometime in 1992 and he’s so happy he could cry. finally he has just enough money to get a babysitter and to fly shannon out to la

- he gets minor roles for about a year until my so called life

by now she’s two years old, and already in daycare

 the cast and crew always ask about her (let’s give her a name and call her kaela)

 which makes him to bring her to set sometimes

they all love her and fawn over her

 during his break he reads to her and watches sesame street with her

- by 1995, jared’s career is on full steam and he’s getting roles left and right, eventually landing a movie role.

which means more money coming in and he can finally afford a house 

 he can take kaela to toys r us and buy her plenty of barbie dolls and other stuff

- he finally feels like he’s able to give his daughter the life she deserves

- maybe this dad thing isn’t so hard after all, he’s managed for three years with no accidents

- until he has to leave to prepare and film for prefontaine 

shannon takes care of kaela while he’s away

 which isn’t so bad. he’s like a second father to her

but kaela still misses her father and is too young to understand why jared is away all the time

constance visits also; she misses her grandbaby

constance may or not be pressuring shannon about having kids of his own after he sees him drawing in chalk in the driveway one day

- jared and kaela preparing for “big girl school”

she loves picking out her backpack and lunch box

he knows that kaela only needs the 24 pack of crayola crayons but 64 pack WITH THE SHARPENER IN THE BACK is on the shelf above, so he gets the 64 pack

who wouldn’t want to be friends with the kid who has the 64 pack?

- jared being emotional as he drops her off

he obviously sticks out like a sore thumb

every father is either dressed in khakis or in expensive suits with shiny black shoes and gold watches with gelled back hair or clean haircuts

and here’s jared with his longish hair, wearing the t-shirt he wore to bed last night and ripped jeans. he can already tell he won’t have anything in common with any of the parents here

maybe private school wasn’t such a good idea, but it was the school closest to the house

- jared gets bored while kaela’s at school and he doesn’t know what to do with himself

the house is way too quiet

grocery shopping isn’t all that fun without her

neither is cleaning the house

he can’t even get through the day without her, how is he supposed to get through 12 YEARS?

- he gets used to it though when he hears kaela talking about her new friends during dinner

- second grade is easier as he has stuff to do for thirty seconds to mars

they have a routine going

although jared can’t drop her off anymore and kaela now has to take the school bus

he’s a little uncomfortable because now people other than his bandmates and family and friends know where he lives

 it also teaches kaela how to be a little more independent and also about time management, so a win-win.

2000-2010

- kaela’s growing up and she’s starting to form an identity outside of jared

she has her group of friends and interests

kaela is definitely a harry potter fan

jared takes her to see the movies

thirty seconds to mars is becoming more successful in the rock world

- kaela is literally growing up right in front of his eyes

she looks just like her mother

oh god, kaela needs a mother

is he ready to start dating again?

he can’t rely on his mom for everything

- kaela starts middle school and jared is FREAKING OUT

valentine’s day in middle school is his worst nightmare

why does she have so many cards from boys???

shannon, solon, and matt teasing him about it

him glaring at any boy who stares at her for too long

- at this point jared is dating cameron diaz 

when jared introduces them, kaela doesn’t know what to do

she’s happy for him, and she likes cam a lot but she’s so used to it just being the two of them it feels... odd

they do get along though

kaela being there for jared when he and cameron breaks up

- jared now considers middle school as a cake walk compared to high school

he has to restrain himself from choking fans his daughter’s age when they comment about her

 of course the media also notices how stunning the leto girl is becoming

even more valentine’s day cards from boys

yes, my daughter is very pretty now stop staring at her, boy in front of us in the trader joe’s checkout line

- just because jared’s easy going in his interviews doesn’t mean he’ll be easy going on the guy trying to take his daughter away from him

okay, maybe not take her away from him, more like date

 he’s definitely a chaperone on dates

if jared’s not available then shannon goes

- kaela having her first boyfriend is very emotional for jared

he’s jared’s worst nightmare, the stereotypical l.a. rich kid. seriously kaela, wtf are you thinking?

he’s lowkey manipulative af (let’s call him brandon)

like that time kaela got asked to promote a clothing line. jared was happy for her, brandon, not so much

thankfully kaela dumped him before senior year

- speaking of senior year

kaela is busier than ever. she’s filling out college applications and going to college interviews every time he turns around

jared doesn’t have to pay schools to get kaela a spot in school unlike certain celeb parents. kaela works for everything she has, thank you very much

- when graduation is around the corner, he’s an emotional wreck

invitations have been sent

kaela already has a school picked out, louisiana state university to be exact

it’s also closer to constance if she needs to get away sometimes

and also closer to her mom’s side (jared knows about kaela contacting relatives from her mom’s side, and he’s happy that his daughter is getting to know them)

- jared and shannon almost fighting other parents to get the perfect shots of their kids 

did i forget to mention that kaela’s valedictorian?

jared being so incredibly proud of his little girl who is not a little girl anymore

 hearing his daughter’s full name and seeing her walk across the stage brings him to tears

her mom would be so proud

he knows that kaela’ s going to be successful no matter what she chooses to do in life

present

- kaela is absolutely stunning; she’s in her 20s now and the media always do those transformation things complete with slideshows 

she chose a profession that she loves and is passionate about

jared, shannon, constance and everyone else are so proud of her

it requires her to travel A LOT so jared has a hard time keeping track but they talk/facetime every week

kaela being in the city of angels video and it also showed pictures and videos of her growing up 

kaela being best friends with chloe since jared introduced them

-kaela is also instagram goals

she’s friends with plenty of celebs and has a good following on social media

kaela still has her own life and career that’s not in the entertainment industry

but damn does she know how to take a good selfie

- kaela helping her uncle with his coffee company

she works pop up shops around the country if she’s able to do it

kaela and shannon are partners in crime

they also drum together too

shannon being a Proud Uncle

is this really the same kid who he used to push on the swing sets and watch disney movies with?

- no matter how old kaela gets, she’s always gonna be jared’s little girl. 

this was made with @echelongaga