#it made a career in stage acting so much harder than it already was. truly it has put me at some sort of disconnect with a lot of humanity

[musical-chick-13]

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[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

Next chapter | Masterlist

In the spirit of the season I thought I’d give the first chapter of this new fic to you all 🤗 I haven’t fully worked out the specific day, but I’ll be posting a chapter a week after the new year so stay tuned! 💜

Ch. 1: Love

Time seems slow when you’re in the middle of it. Even slower when you’re looking forward to something. Yoongi spent 21 months away from his home, his members, Army, his family, and his girlfriend who he had only been dating 3 short months before he had to leave.

Yoongi and Hyeri had known each other before, both being under Hybe as artists. Na Hyeri, stage name: Rainbow, began her idol career with a short lived girl group called Two Piece under a much smaller company. The group disbanded after just two mini albums, and a lot of attention thanks to their company infamously mishandling everything from money to the artist’s safety and well-being. When the smoke died down, Hyeri signed with Hybe as a solo artist and has made a name for herself in the few years since her solo debut.

She first met Yoongi when he produced a song that she performed for a tourism campaign. The song made waves across social media and beyond and Hyeri found herself gaining a mass of new fans. The first time they ran into each other after the campaign took off, Hyeri jokingly thanked Yoongi for the new fans. That turned into an hour long conversation that was the beginning of a new relationship.

After endless texts, phone calls, and sneaking to see each other around the company building whenever they could, they became official. To themselves mostly and close family and friends. Yoongi told the rest of the members and Hyeri told her best friends and former bandmates, Haeun and Minji. To the rest of the world they’re just label mates who worked on a song together.

Being under the same company made things easy. Moving in together 2 months later made things even easier. Yoongi’s enlistment however, made things harder.

For 21 months Hyeri lived alone waiting for Yoongi with the rest of the world. His few vacation times never seemed long enough and his discharge date seemed like it was centuries away.

Then he was back. And just like that those 21 months didn’t seem so bad after all. Things were as they had been before with all seven of them back together again.

Hyeri had begun taking more and more acting jobs so she was fairly busy, but always left a note and a snack for Yoongi when she’d leave before him. Other times she would give him a soft kiss when she’d come home late and find him already asleep. Yoongi always sent her a meal if she were home and he wasn’t. The nights he spent in his studio instead of home he would make up for with more gifts than necessary. Jewelry, stuffed animals, posters of himself, and the occasional pair of shoes despite him telling her he wouldn’t buy her shoes since she already has so many.

Once the group’s big post-military comeback had concluded, Yoongi felt truly happy. He was back with his brothers making music and seeing Army again, and he had his girlfriend by his side who he’s deeply in love with. All felt right in the world.

Yoongi had begun working on new music for the group’s upcoming full length album. He’s been in his studio much more instead of home, but it’s not too bad. Hyeri finished shooting her small parts in a drama she was cast in and had begun working on a couple of songs for the soundtrack. When she was done recording for the day, she would come by Yoongi’s studio and spend as much time there as she could since she knows he may not come home that night.

This day is like any other. Hyeri finished her final recording session and dropped by Yoongi’s studio with a dinner of his favorite cheat meal, noodles. They both sit on his couch eating, chatting, and cuddling a bit once they’ve cleared their bowls.

“I think this may have been my last recording session,” Hyeri says with her legs rested across Yoongi’s lap.

“So you’re really going to do it?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I know it’s going to suck and you’re going to hate it, but I just…” she pauses and looks up at his face. He may be expressionless, but she knows that’s just him trying to hide his disappointment.

“Hybe is more of a music company, you know that,” she continues. “I just really think I’ll have much better acting opportunities with JJS since they’re such a successful acting agency.”

JJS is one of the top entertainment agencies in the acting world. They house some of the best entertainers in the industry, from romance movie heartthrobs, variety show comedians who have become household names, and even action movie baddies. Hyeri had been looking into switching companies so that she can embark on her new career as a full time actress. She’s gotten a number of roles through Hybe already. Mostly a few commercials and a couple of small cameos in tv shows. For her, switching to JJS could mean finally getting her breakout opportunity to send her acting career soaring.

“I know we won’t get to see each other like this anymore,” she says. “But we’ll still see each other at home. Don’t be mad,” she pouts.

“I’m not mad,” Yoongi says caressing her leg. “I told you before I would support you no matter what you decide.”

“But you still don’t like it.”

“It’s fine. We’ll see each other at home, right?”

“We never see each other at home,” she pouts more.

“You just said…” he chuckles shaking his head and pulls her closer to him. “We’ll make it work. I want you to follow your dreams. Don’t hold yourself back because of me.”

“Are you sure you’re ok with it? Do you think it will make things hard?”

“Not as hard as me being away for 21 months,” he chuckles. “Trust me.”She nods and he gives her a reassuring kiss.

Hyeri goes back and forth on whether she’s making the right decision. Yoongi constantly tells her she is but she’s struggling to believe it. She spends less time in the company building since she’s not working on anything and will be leaving soon. That means she’s been home alone a lot. It’s nothing new to her, but she’s starting to realize how hard it may actually be. Especially when she starts working again.

Yoongi is the perfect support for her. He keeps her sane and assures her that he’ll stand by her no matter what she does or where she goes. Sure it will come with challenges, but he knows they can make it work.

Things start off fine. News of Hyeri signing with JJS was met with lots of support from her fans. She immediately landed a small supporting role in a movie and Yoongi couldn’t be happier for her.

Shooting on the movie began and that became the true test of their relationship. They rarely saw each other. When one of them would leave or come home, the other would be asleep. Yoongi would even spend less time in his studio so he could be home on the off chance that she gets there early. She never did and he would spend another night falling asleep alone.

It’s frustrating for them both to be so close yet so far from each other. Yoongi has completed the majority of his work on the songs for their new album. Even with endless recording and dance practices, he still can’t seem to find enough to do to keep his mind off of the empty space in his bed that smells like Hyeri.

They text when they can but it’s never enough. They miss each other and start to feel like they were able to talk to each other more when he was in the military. No matter how hard they try or how bad they want it, they can never seem to get their schedules to line up.

One day that finally changes. A month into Hyeri’s shoot, and about a month before Yoongi embarks on another BTS comeback era, they find an overlap in free time in their schedules. Yoongi had a gap in his schedule that gave him a bit of free time. He typically would spend that time in his studio. However, Hyeri had a last minute cancellation that gave her the rest of the evening off.

Yoongi only has an hour to see Hyeri so he rushes out and tells her to meet him at a nearby restaurant for dinner. He would rather see her at home so they can be in private, but the further he has to go, the less time that will leave him with Hyeri. He’s so desperate that he doesn’t want to lose a second.

Since time is limited and privacy is important, Yoongi chose a small snack food place that he and the members had been going to for many years. They always have a table in the back away from the public eye for them. It’s private enough and a quick meal.

Yoongi arrives at the restaurant first. He doesn’t have to wait long before Hyeri arrives, though to him it felt like hours. She looks around a moment then runs to give Yoongi a long kiss filled with so much pent up longing.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in years,” Hyeri says kissing him again.

“I missed you,” he says stealing one more kiss before she takes her seat across from him.

“I wish we had time but I’ll take this over nothing,” she says quickly scanning the menu. “There’s so much I want to tell you about the movie shoot! It’s been so much fun and everyone has been really cool. I really think I made the right choice. I just wish it didn’t keep me away from you so much.”

“I know, Bow,” he says, calling her by the shortened version of her stage name, Rainbow. “You’ll have more time once the shooting is done. Then even more time when you finish all the promos.”

“I know, baby, but aren’t you guys going on your world tour around the time I finish shooting? I know things haven’t been finalized yet, but we really wouldn’t have much time together before you’re off traveling the world.”

Yoongi knows she’s right and it breaks his heart to see the sadness in her eyes. Their server comes by to take their order before he can think of something to say to make her feel better.

After placing their order and sitting in silence a few moments, Yoongi reaches across the table and takes Hyeri’s small hands into his.

“I wish I could take you with me,” he says forcing a smile.

“I don’t know,” she chuckles trying to lighten the mood. “You might get sick of me then.”

“I won’t get sick of you,” he chuckles. “Even when you’re annoying, you’re still beautiful.”

“Are you trying to romance me, Mr. Min?” She jokes.

“I was only stating a fact,” he chuckles.

“Admit it, Yoon-gya, you like me,” she laughs calling him by the nickname that never fails to make him laugh.

When Hyeri first met Jin he was speaking so fast she could hardly understand him. When she heard him shout “Yoongi-ah” it sounded like “Yoon-gya” to her. After they began dating she asked Yoongi why Jin calls him “Yoon-gya”. Yoongi was confused at first, but once he realized what she was saying he never let it go. In return she calls him that whenever she’s messing with him.

“I love you,” he chuckles. “But still…you’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

“Of course I will, babe.” She shakes her head knowing he should know better. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s going to take more than an enlistment and a world tour to get rid of me.”

He gives her hands a light squeeze and flashes his gummy smile in happiness. Both of them are soaking up each other’s presence in this rare moment they have together. They continue talking about work and things they haven’t been able to tell through text. Their food arrives and they continue chatting as they eat.

That hour is much too short. It only felt like a few minutes to them, but they look and now it’s time for Yoongi to return to the office for his scheduled recording session. It’s hard for them to let each other go. They stand in front of the restaurant lingering a moment trying to find the courage to leave.

“I’ll try to stay up for you,” Hyeri says.

“Hopefully we can make it quick. I’ll come straight home once I’m done.” He reaches for her hand out of habit briefly forgetting that they’re out on the street. She doesn’t stop him though. She takes his hand for just a brief moment to feel his warmth a second longer, then let’s go.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” she smiles. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he smiles.

They both head to their cars and go off their separate ways. They hate to leave after finally getting a moment of togetherness. That only gives Yoongi a much greater sense of urgency the rest of the evening.

When he returns to the studio it’s clear to everyone he’s trying to get things done quickly. He has no time for small talk or getting off track with mindless conversations. The sooner this is done the better.

“Hyung,” Jimin says exiting the recording booth. “Take it easy. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“She’s waiting for me,” Yoongi says with no further explanation.

“Ah,” Jimin nods. He knows exactly what Yoongi means. He knows what Hyeri means to Yoongi so he doesn’t need any further explanation. “Get in there and finish up then.”

Before Yoongi, Jimin is the last one to finish recording. Now that he’s done he switches places with Yoongi to help things move along faster. Jimin doesn’t mind staying a bit later so Yoongi can get home. It takes a little longer than Yoongi would like, but he finally finishes and rushes off to go home without giving Jimin a second look. Jimin follows him out and simply laughs to himself at how flustered his hyung is. He knows Yoongi is in deep.

Yoongi returns home at 1am hoping Hyeri is still awake. When he steps inside all of the lights are off and he fears he may be too late. That is, until he reaches the bedroom and he can hear the shower running.

Hyeri had just gotten in the shower after finishing a late meal. She was fighting her sleep in hopes that Yoongi would be home soon. She decided to hop in the shower in an attempt to stay awake just a little longer.

She leans her head back and closes her eyes as the water runs through her hair and down her back. The warm water is relaxing so she stands there not moving for a few moments. She takes a deep breath and just then she can feel a hand on her waist.

She opens her eyes to see Yoongi entering the shower and pulling her close to his bare body. She isn’t sure how he managed to get home and get undressed without her hearing a thing, but it doesn’t matter. She instantly wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

“I’m so glad you’re still awake,” Yoongi says in a low tone. “I feel like I haven’t gotten to hold you in way too long.”

“I know,” she says kissing him again. “I never knew I could miss you so much when we live together.”

He feels the same but rather than saying so, he pulls her in tighter for a heavier kiss. His hands trace every wet part of her body until he reaches between her legs and softly teases her clit. He lives for the breathy moan she lets out at the feeling of him. The sound he’s missed, the feel he’s missed, the taste he’s missed. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

He continues kissing her, slipping his tongue into her mouth and swallowing every sound of hers until he presses her back against the shower wall. His level of arousal is almost unbearable in this moment. So many missed connections and lonely nights are overflowing and poking her pelvis in the process.

“I love you so much, Bow,” he growls lifting her leg and wrapping it around his waist.

“I love you too, baby,” she whispers anticipating his entry that is much desired.

He presses her into the wall harder and takes his tongue on a tour of her neck and chest until he reaches her tits. He loves to see her like this. Melting in his arms and breathing heavily for what he’s about to give her.

He fills her up slowly sending waves of heat through her body until he can’t go any further. He pauses in place and stares her down. He could die in her big brown eyes that are staring up at him with lustful anticipation.

He starts slowly. Easing in and out of her delicately as if she were made of porcelain. In his mind she is. Right now, she’s his beautiful porcelain doll that he’ll never break.

“You feel so good,” he whispers taking her lips again.

She tightens her hold around his neck and arches her back pressing her chest into him more. It’s her silent way of telling him she wants it faster and harder. She wants his love to break her.

He takes the hint and picks up speed while pressing her harder against the shower wall. Her unsteady breaths fuel his powerful strokes more and more. Her moans sing a song that he’ll never get tired of. He can feel that overwhelming pressure within him getting closer to exploding out of every part of him.

The way her nails dig into the back of his neck lets him know she’s just about to lose it. He’s just about to lose it. Her pussy tightens around him sucking his oxygen out.

He growls at her, becoming more relentless and desperate with each stroke.

“I love you so fucking much,” she pants.

The rhythm of his hips sends her over the moon. Her nails dig deeper into his skin as she searches for some bit of stability. He lets out a deep purr when his muscles start to tense and his vision begins to fade.

“I love you,” she repeats kissing his neck. She continues to hang on to him until his hips slow to a stop and his purrs decrease to heavy breaths.

“I love you too, Hyeri,” he says once he has his voice back.

He slides out of her and kisses her softly. She lowers her leg from around his waist and smiles up at him.

“I don’t think I’ll have trouble falling asleep tonight,” she says.

“Good,” he says nipping at her bottom lip. “You only have about three hours before you have to leave.”

“Perfect,” she sarcastically huffs dreading her very early call time that she could have been well rested for had she not stayed up waiting for Yoongi. “I guess I should get to bed then.”

[the-bugs-under-ur-skin]

Yandere Puff Puff, DeeJay, Benatar, Axel HCs - YFM

guys i’m so certain that this will end up in a cringe comp and i’m already embarrassed as hell

[yandere Puff Puff x reader]

-Puff Puff is superficial and a player so when he falls for you, he falls way harder than he expected

-he doesn’t want to admit that he’s fallen for you, but his actions speak volumes

-all the songs he writes are sappy and romantic, he’ll show up late to practice from hanging out with you

-at first, the band mates make fun of him since the douche bag Puff Puff actually has feelings

-but their teasing turns to worry quick

-his lyrics get more and more intense and obsessive, he’ll show up late to every practice if he even shows up at all, he interrupts in the middle of shows to answer texts and calls from you

-obviously, the others get pretty angry at him because of this

-but Puff Puff is oddly aggressive

-he’s usually pretty aggressive, but now he has intense mood swings

-he’ll lash out on anyone who ticks him off so his friends usually have to tell him to chill out

-honestly, Puff’s ego is so big i wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up ditching the band and trying to start a solo career

-i could also see you guys being pretty on and off

-like maybe you keep breaking up with him but he keeps crawling back to you and begging to take him back

-he’d also totally kick ass for you, he’d tip over his own tour bus if he thought it would impress you

-he tries to impress you a lot; whether it’s doing insane stunts or improvising a song on you, as long as you’re swooning over him, he’ll do it

-Puff wouldn’t mind hitting one of his own band members over the head with his mic on stage; as long as you promise to kiss him once he gets back to the tour bus

[yandere DeeJay x reader]

-DeeJay is the most competent in the whole band and is the only one who seems to know what he’s doing

-so after he fell for you, he made sure to keep you away from the rest of the band

-he knows only bad stuff follows him wherever they go and doesn’t want you to get hurt because of their bs

-i see him being protective and possessive

-possessive because he wants to let the band and anyone else who looks at you know that your his and nobody else can have you

-and protective because with all the crazy shit he’s seen, he knows that if he doesn’t protect you then you’ll end up hurt or, worse, lead away from him

-if he ever does take you to the bus, he’s pretty much telling anyone who gets too friendly with you to lay off

-he knows how his band members think and he makes sure they don’t get any funny ideas

-he’s one of the more rational in the group, so i don’t think he’d act on his feelings like the others would

-but he’d still be willing to kill if in his over protective and possessive mind someone deserved it

-while DeeJay is the only one in the group who would outright murder someone, he’s also the only one who would actually properly comfort you

-i think that sometimes he wouldn’t even know whats wrong with him and why he’s suddenly so crazy

-you would probably be the only normal thing in DeeJay’s life and he needs you because of that

-he is always having to solve problems that he didn’t create, but you’ve been anything but a problem

-he thinks you’re the only person on Earth who isn’t a complete douche and he’s so glad that he got to you before anyone else could change that about you

[yandere Benatar x reader]

-Benetar is already a pretty pathetic and suffocating person

-he is obsessive and clingy, making it pretty hard for you to have actual relations outside of himself

-not that he’s overly possessive or aggressive, it’s just that people steer clear of him

-he’s truly obsessed with you, it’s rare for him to even have a thought outside of you

-his bunk on the tour bus is filled with photos of you, his phone background is probably a picture or even a collage of you, and he’ll even wear certain articles of clothing under his own when he misses you

-he’s also obsessed in the way that he relies on you

-you’re basically his only support since he’s well aware of how his strangeness (british) has made everyone despise him and now he thinks of you as his only comfort

-basically, all of his emotions rely on you

-he’s also an obsessive texter which is part of both his obsessiveness and his clinginess

-whenever he’s not directly next to you, he’s desperately texting you how much he misses you, how much he wonders what you’re doing, how he’s going to see you soon...

-we all saw the friendzone music video, this isn’t new info

-but if he can help it, he’ll never be apart from you

-Benetar is very oblivious which ends up actually turning into delusion to how you really feel about him

-whether you’re one of the few who like him or if you don’t, he still acts like the both of you are BFFs

-so despite your true feelings on him, he still invites you out on dates, invites you to their shows, shows up to your house

-although, he is extremely worried about you ignoring him

-he’d be desperate for your attention, doing whatever possible to get you back to at least tolerating him

-he’d try his best to change, even though he would probably screw up and ruin everything more

-unfortunately, the damage Benetar caused on your reputation might have already been done, and now all you have is him

-he’s definitely one of the least aggressive of the bunch, so at least it could’ve been worse, right? 

[yandere Axel x reader]

-Axel is the most immature and stupid in the whole group, so it’s no wonder he’s the only one without a real gf

-he’s very childish, so he’d rely on you and possibly even be desperate

-he’d rely on you without really knowing it

-i feel like he’d have the perception that he’s the big guy who’s helping you, but in actuality you’re the one who’s really helping him

-so he’d probably unconsciously come to you when he’s in distress

-he’s pretty shameless so he’d end up doing it in public too

-when he gets nervous or excited, he’ll jump into your arms and cling to you

-his childishness might bleed into his jealousy too

-he pushes people off of you, pouts, and ignores others

-it’s not very hard to snap him out of it though

-i also think due to the lack of relationship experience that he’ll let you do anything you want

-he himself doesn’t have many boundaries, so he’s cool with however you treat him

-he’d also probably wear your clothes like Benetar does

-Axel is very devoted to you, he doesn’t doubt you or get angry at all

-he’s a little dumb, but at least you have him wrapped around you’re finger

[stormra]

For Osomatsu-san: How would the brothers treat their S/O, who’s a popular musician but has to travel around all the time (tours, concerts, etc)? Would they come with their S/O? Or stay and support them from afar because they don’t want to get in their way?

❝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐒/𝐎

— type : headcanons

— characters : the matsuno brothers

     

𝙊𝙎𝙊𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐  : 

❧     While he’d support you and love you unconditionally regardless of what you want from him, he’d definitely want to leech off of your successes. You can expect him to instantly say yes upon being asked to travel with you. Staying home wouldn’t even be a consideration for an array of arguably stupid reasons that read as follows:

❧     “It’s no big deal! What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, baby~”

❧     However, if you’re into being a less-official version of a sugar Mommy/Daddy/Parent, you might not care about him tagging along and using you for your money/fame. At least he loves you? Just look at it that way! Osomatsu isn’t all that bad.

❧     Sure, he’s greedy, but he’s not extremely selfish. He’d recognize that you have feelings that deserve to be acknowledged. Besides, we all know he doesn’t think very highly of himself in the first place. 

❧     He’d love to listen to you play/sing for him and would often go out of his way to watch you perform. While he might not know much about music, he’d value your dedication, as he has exactly 0 ounces of that mystical concept. Knowing that the people he loves are successful is euphoric.

❧     If you show him off to the public or so much as walk around with him in public, expect him to die. He wouldn’t be focused on suddenly gaining fame and popularity like some others would. Instead, he’d be stuck on the fact that you, a popular musician, chose to show the world that you belong to him and that he belongs to you... just a lowly NEET dating someone exponentially more successful. Something about that would warm his heart and make him feel valued for once.

❧     Did someone say he’d finally accept his identity? He’s constantly having internal crises. Your presence would only solidify his existence.

❧     While he wouldn’t be much of a comforting boyfriend, he’d pose as a great distraction. The celebrity life can get rather tiresome; Osomatsu would recognize this without a problem. Instead of coddling or comforting you, he’d use his childish nature to distract you from the stresses of the music industry, influencing you to take breaks and lazy days with him.

❧     He’d constantly ask to be in any sort of photo shoots you may have. He just wants to pose in funny positions with you! 

𝙆𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧     While Karamatsu wouldn’t exactly want to stay home in order to keep himself from making things harder for you, he’d do so if you asked or made it clear that you’d prefer such an option. If you’d expect him to ask, no. He’s far too polite to do that. 

❧     It’s important to note that he considers himself to be a bit of a musician as well. Therefore, he’d be even more compelled to go with you, but, again, he’d never ask. You’d have to ask him and express a trillion times that you actually want him to tag along. 

❧     This might sound like a stretch, but that grandiose act he loves so much? It would disappear rapidly with the knowledge that so many people could learn of his existence just by dating you. Without even being the celebrity in the relationship, he’d crack under pressure, reverting back into the timid, people-pleasing man he truly is. Get ready to have some fun teasing him and/or helping him establish true confidence. 

❧     Expect a lot of praise to fall from his lips. He would admire your successes without being overbearing. In fact, you’d inspire him. A lot. You can also expect a lot of his own songs to center around your success and beauty.

❧     Honestly? Give him musical advice! He’d accept it wholeheartedly; especially if it comes from someone like you. Your career would influence him to grow and learn from his mistakes in the field. You might have a model singer as a boyfriend before the end of the tour! While giving him critique, be sure to praise him just as much. He loves you endlessly, but lots of critique with little praise will leave him feeling a bit insecure. However, I’m sure you know this, as this aspect of his character is far from unnoticeable. Be gentle with him. He deserves it!

❧     If you imagine playing/singing duets with him, you’re on the right track. He’d love to sing for you and hear you sing with him in return. The same can be said for any instrument you may happen to play. He’d eat it right up! You’re his everything, after all.

❧     Will wear your merch—especially merch with your face on it. Please wear his tank top with his face out of respect.

𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧      Although some would assume he’d want to stay home for your sake, as he calls himself the most “responsible” brother, I know it wouldn’t be anything like that. Have you seen the way he acts around Nyaa-chan? This guy would ask you daily, disguising his motives with innocent claims. He’s a tricky bastard who should never be underestimated.

❧     “I only want to make sure everything goes smoothly for you!”

❧     “Don’t you need an assistant? Emotional support?”

❧     “If you don’t want me to come, I understand, but I think this could be a learning experience for the both of us!”

❧     While he would be more than willing to be your crutch and sense of normalcy, for he isn’t heartless, we all know he has a weird thing for idols and that would primarily spawn his desire to travel on tour with you. It doesn’t matter if you’re nothing like the idol he praises. You’re close enough and that’s undeniably attractive to him. 

❧     The fact that he’s even dating a musician is enough to scare him. Can you imagine how he’d act traveling with one? Pushy and controlling, you’d hardly catch a break, as he’d be riding your ass to get things done and to take care of yourself. If you like that sort of thing, good for you. If you don’t, then you’d need to talk to him about it. Although executed with good intentions, his overbearingness can be... well, overbearing. 

❧     Please keep him humble. As we know his ego is the size of the sun, he’d willingly or unwillingly use your existence as his partner to set himself apart from his brothers. Again, we know he already thinks very highly of himself, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he started using your relationship as a boost to get ahead of his “worthless” siblings. 

❧     “I’m dating a musician and you five can’t even get jobs!” 

❧     However, he’d never you to show him off to the public.

❧     On a more wholesome note, as I feel bad for giving him mostly negative headcanons, his doting-ness would be welcomed as well as detested. On your bad days, he’d be there to comfort you and offer objective solutions. Albeit uncharismatic, he’s rather skilled at speaking and getting his words across when they need to be conveyed properly.

❧     He buys all of your merch and wears the shirts everywhere. Really. 

𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧     It would take a lot of convincing on your behalf if you desperately want this man to travel with you.

❧     The threat of exposing himself to the public is a deep-rooted fear that keeps him from doing simple things within his mundane life—so one can only imagine the stress that would sit on his shoulders in an environment such as the celebrity one. He’d constantly find himself within ruts and deep pits, trying to stay out of the spotlight. 

❧     In that case, he’d be staying home. Let him stay home. However, the problems wouldn’t end there, so you best be on your toes.

❧     Jealousy can overrun the best of us. Ichimatsu couldn’t stomach the idea of going with you in the first place, but that wouldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts telling him that you’d end up leaving him for another musician who is leagues more talented and better looking. This obviously wouldn’t be your fault; he’s always been disgustingly insecure. A lot of communication would need to be reached: such as phone calls and texts. Although he wouldn’t be clingy, he’d need some frequent reassurance that you, in fact, love him. Praise him for being so sweet for you. Call him handsome as you FaceTime. Hell, write a short song for him. 

❧     On another note, you as a musician would literally be his northern star. As a man so shrouded in negativity, seeing you, a person who can communicate feelings through fingers or a voice, shining like the sun whilst on a stage surrounded by thousands, would leave his soul feeling all light and fuzzy. The mere thought that his partner is someone so ethereal would bring him some form of internal peace.

❧     He’d listen to your music every night. It’s how he’d fall asleep. 

❧     Surprisingly, he’d be the best at comforting you and helping you stay grounded. He knows what it feels like to feel hopeless. 

❧     Sing him to sleep over the phone! If you play an instrument, play for him! Oddly enough, he’d have one of the most prominent adorations for your musical skill out of his brothers. Something about it just warms his heart. You’d impress him to no end and inspire him to try and do something with his life. 

❧     He’d name one of his cats after a song of yours! 

𝙅𝙔𝙐𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧     Undoubtedly, he’d be the most eager to travel out of his brothers. He’d ask you daily, jumping up and down like a hyper puppy. He’d hardly have a reason as to why he’d like to go, but something about it would forever and always appeal to him for some unspoken reason. He might just crave adventure and some excitement. 

❧     Are we really surprised?

❧     Identical to a dog, he’d beg. He’d ask with various bone-crushing hugs and weird stares that are hard to deny. He’s not exactly the brightest, but he’s cute and knows it. No, he’s not manipulative, but if he wants to go, he’ll sure try his best to convince you to take him with you. 

❧     He compares you to Karamatsu a lot. In good ways, of course. 

❧     Upon letting him travel with you, he’d be one of the best distractions on a bad day. Of course you can’t silence discomfort by just “being happy”, but Jyushimatsu sure likes to make you laugh even on your darkest days. He’d be a great listener that lets you spill all of your darkest worries as an artist. He wouldn’t give the best advice, but his presence would be an award in it of itself. Like Osomatsu, his childish nature is a breath of fresh air. He’d also be remarkably skilled at reading how you feel. 

❧     Undoubtedly the loudest supporter at your performances. Will go out of his way to make sure his voice is the one you hear screaming over a sea of thousands. Also, I can’t promise he won’t tackle-hug you after performances, let that be offstage or onstage. Be ready! 

❧     He’d love wearing your merch—specifically oversized t-shirts with your face on them! Much like Karamatsu, he thinks that’s all sorts of romantic and cute. He could care less about being viewed as weird. 

❧     There’s no way you can keep Jyushimatsu out of the public eye. He loves you and he loves having fun! The poor guy would probably have a hard time understanding why he shouldn’t tackle you in front of your fans. Your best bet is to establish some boundaries and come to a conclusion that works best. If I’m being honest, he’d be a harmless public partner. He’s just all smiles and laughter... mostly. (:

𝙏𝙊𝘿𝙊𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐 :

❧     Ultimately, this little bastard is hard to read. He can either be the sweetest man to ever grace the Earth or the most devilish and selfish.

❧     He’d tell you he doesn’t need to go on tour with you, but the answer he’s looking for is a yes. He enjoys playing “hard to get” and wants to come off as responsible and kind. Much like Choromatsu, he knows how to play his social cards and will do what he can to seem like a perfectly indecisive partner who is “totally okay with whatever you want.” That’s a lie. If you wouldn’t allow him to travel with you, he’d try to give you reasons as to why you should let him go. He’s complicated and I won’t sugarcoat that. You’ll find that I try to be realistic with these heavily romanticized NEETs. 

❧     Regardless, if and when he goes on tour with you, except to have yet another mini assistant. He’d always try to offer fashion tips and elements of which you should include in your songs to appeal to the public. Although a NEET, he’d have a strong idea of what the fans are looking for and what you could do to be more appealing. However, he’d understand if you’d like to keep up with your own thing and stray from conforming. He’d be fine with whatever you want, but that wouldn’t stop his opinions and tips. Maybe he should become a musician. 

❧     He’d get fussy over not having enough of your attention. His degree of fussiness wouldn’t become overbearing, but it’s always important to acknowledge the feelings of your partners to reach a conclusion. Remind him that you love him and he’ll eventually come around. 

❧     Easily the best advice-giver. Can both solve your problems or be the shoulder you cry on. He’d be fantastic at helping you through the trials and tribulations that come from being a musician. While he might seem apathetic, he really isn’t and understands just how pressuring expectations can be. This star of hope has seen some things.

❧     Although it may seem easy to assume he’d only be there for the fame, that wouldn’t be his only motivator. He’d truly want to see his beloved grow beyond others. His confidence will skyrocket whilst on tour with you.

❧     He’d design most of your merch: very minimalist designs that fit in with almost all aesthetics. When all is said and done, he’d wear the clothes with pride. What a dork.

❧     Likes to post pictures of you with him on his social medias. 

[dizzydancingdreamer]

The Runaway Princess | One

Okay, okay, okay so I'm dropping this preview here because I have yet to decide if this is going to be a long fic or a chaptered fic but I have the first part down and I wanted to share it. It's a young Zemo x OC fic (lightly OC? His wife in the comics is named Heike and I took that name and ran with it so she's my own design but with a ripped off name LOL).

If I decide to post the rest on here it will be on my DIzzy After Dark page because I'm planning this to be an NSFW style fic (bc why the fuck not) but this opening bit is 110% friendly to all ages I just wanted to introduce Heike because I fucking love her.

This story goes with the Zemo moodboard I made months ago and finally just got around to polishing. Here is the like to that!

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Synopsis: Heike is a Ballerina and a Princess, but before that she is an object, one toyed with by her very mother. She is to be married to a man she's never met, whom she has yet to even see a picture of (though that's of her own design), and is on the verge of one of the biggest moments of her career: dancing on the Marinsky stage.

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Heike Petrov (OC)

Warnings: Slight angst, eventual NSFW content that will be 18+ (not this part), fluff tho and lots of it, seriously this is all over the place

Word count: 2.2k

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The first drops of sunlight pour in through the arched windows, painting the glossy wooden floor in an array of sparkling pastels. They hit the paneled mirrors, bouncing off of the golden bar that runs the entire length of the studio, illuminating every surface in an ethereal glow. For just a moment— the tiniest fraction of time where there's no noise other than the slightest shuffle of silken slippers against mahogany and even, meticulous breaths— everything is perfect. Everything is calm.

Perhaps if Heike’s eyes were open she would admire the peace— the way her studio looks as though it’s been dipped in a bath of gold and oil paints. The way it’s just cool enough to keep the sheen of sweat from her limbs. The silence. Oh yes, she would certainly admire the silence. It’s all she’s ever longed for.

Her eyes are not open, though, and in her head her thoughts are excruciatingly loud— louder than they’ve been in ages. There’s no silence for her to admire behind the darkness of her eyelids. No gold, or oil, or peace. Nothing of the sort.

No, in her head she is on a stage. A loud, vast, practically thrumming stage.

Bozhe, pomogi yey.

That’s nothing new, though— that’s her life. Her life is on a stage and her life is a stage. She is always doing and someone— but more often someones— is— are— always watching. Being on the stage is not new.

What is new is the particular stage that she is on this morning. The Mariinsky Stage. The biggest grande allegro in all of Russia. It’s the stage she has been preparing to dance on for almost all of her life— for almost twenty-five excruciatingly long years. In just thirty-six hours she will be performing in front of the world’s most important people.

Kings and Queens.

Princes and Princesses.

Presidents and Prime Ministers and everyone in between who can afford a ticket.

So, her family— her entire family— somehow that’s worse than anyone else.

A soft voice cuts through her pondering but not quite through the dread.

“Mi’lady, it is seven.” Already? Heike could have sworn she just put her slippers on a few minutes ago. “I am afraid it is time we start dressing you. It’s a special day— the Queen has, erm, reminded me, shall we say, that you mustn’t be late to brunch this morning.”

The Princess sighs, the Mariinsky beginning to fade from behind her eyelids. Of course her mother’s been pestering her lady in waiting again. Would it truly be a normal day if she didn’t? It isn’t as if Katerina is the kindest, hardest working, most tolerant woman in the castle— no, that would be absurd. Surely if she was then her mother wouldn’t treat her with such scorn— as though she’s lower than the dirt the country stands on. Only a touch worse than she treats her own daughter.

Oh— wait.

Cracking an eye open, Heike drinks in the woman before her. Scarlet hair, pale skin, rosy cheeks, and a worn smile. Worn but there nonetheless. She opens the other eye, passing Katerina what she can only assume— nyet, hope— is the same. She has no idea how Katerina puts up with the Queen. She can barely do it and she’s the princess. Heike knows it’s for her, though, so she tries her best to be the opposite.

She lowers herself to the floor, stretching her hands out towards her toes. “Three hours to get ready? Surely that’s too much time to throw on a dress and some heels, Kat.”

Katerina rolls her eyes, tsking and shaking her head. “Shush miss— you know this morning is different.”

The princess giggles, tilting her head to the spot on the floor next to her. Katerina sighs but it is pointless— Heike is well accustomed to her pattern of feigning annoyance. When you’re around the same person day in and day out for nine years, you begin to pick up on their traits. Like how Kat rolls her eyes but the left side of her mouth still ticks up. It comes with the territory— it comes with being best friends.

That’s what they are, really. Best friends. Heike’s only friend, truly. She knows it’s odd to become friends with your lady in waiting— it’s not lost on her the implications of such a relationship and of her status— but Katerina has never felt like her servant. The idea of even having a servant has always felt terribly outdated, at least to her. Kat is her friend— her sister. Well, if sisters were paid to be your sister. She would like to believe that the reason Kat sticks around, though, is because she feels the same way.

Bozhe, pomogi yey.

Katerina slumps onto the floor next to her, rolling onto her back, her blue gown pooling in a graceful circle around her. Heike meets her eyes with another smile— this one much less coy. There is only so much that can keep the nerves at bay. Practicing her ballet was helping— a lot, actually— but now that she’s not moving— now that the dawn has broken into a more sinister form of daylight— all the raging thoughts have begun to simmer again. Now, it seems, they are boiling over.

“What do you think it’ll be like?” Her voice is quiet, just barely breaching a whisper, but in their little bubble of mahogany and glass it is louder than ever.

Katerina pushes herself up onto her elbow, her brows creasing together. They have been having the same conversation for weeks, ever since her mother told her the news. Heike can practically hear what she’s going to say before it’s out of her mouth.

“It or him?” Heike winces at Kat’s bluntness regardless— usually they skirt around the real topic for a few minutes, warming up to it.

She supposes they don’t have time for that today though. Not when he will be sitting in their conservatory in three hours. Maybe even less. Maybe he is even here now, waiting, speaking to her parents and bartering a deal for her hand— no. She takes a deep breath, beginning to untie her slippers if only to keep her shaking fingers occupied.

“Baron Helmut Zemo—” Heike tests his name on her tongue. It tastes familiar— that is probably because she has been repeating it for weeks now, though— “he sounds regal.”

“He is royalty,” Katerina reminds, the left side of her mouth quirking up. “Just the same as you, Mi’lady.”

Heike sighs. “Katerina, please— I’m a dancer. A ballerina. None of the formalities— they make me feel… strange.”

Being a princess would mean that she is the daughter of a king and a queen— it would mean she actually got recognized as anything more than a pair of pointe shoes.

She doesn’t add that, of course, only pulls said pointe shoes from her feet, letting her toes stretch and curl in the cool air of her studio. Not for long— only until her fingers begin trembling again and then she is starting on the sides of her leotard, pulling at the little silk ribbons. Soon, though, even that is interrupted, a pair of warm hands wrapping around hers and halting her attempts to hide her fidgeting.

“You’re stalling is what you are. Just as you have been all week. It isn’t healthy, Hei. Talk to me— you always talk to me.”

Heike lifts her eyes back to her friend, meeting her worried blue eyes and feeling her shoulders drop. “I’m sorry, I know. It’s just— I—” She doesn’t know what to say— part of the reason she hasn’t talked about it is because she’s at a complete and utter loss. “I am tired. I think. But so are you— more so than I. So I shouldn’t complain.”

Katerina rolls her eyes again, squeezing her hands. “Mi’lady I am exhausted. Truly I am. But at the end of the day I get to go to my bed and I get to sleep. Just like you do. We both sleep, yes?”

“Yes, but what—”

“It means we are the same— which means don’t say that. We are friends. You are tired. I am tired. I can be tired and listen at the same time, believe it or not.” Kat shakes her hands, bringing them up to her chest with Heike’s fingers still wrapped in her own. “I know it’s hard but we must talk about this. No excuses.”

Heike tries for another smile but it feels more like a grimace— like all the muscles in her face are rebelling. “How are you so kind to me?”

Katerina narrows her blue eyes until all Heike can see is black. “No excuses, Mi’lady.” She scrunches her nose, her face softening from it’s accusatory glare. “But— on that note— you’re much more lovely than you give yourself credit for, Hei. You’re easy to be kind to. So, again, stop making excuses because if you don’t then you will be unlovable. I will stop loving you.”

Heike laughs for a quick moment and then straightens— Kat is right. Kat is always right.

“I’m nervous,” Heike admits.

It’s harder to push the words out than she thought it would be. It’s like her throat squeezes extra hard when she says it, her teeth and tongue acting a barricade to the truth. The words do manage to shimmy through but they take all the energy she has with them and she sags. Her whole body rebels against the notion that she’s worried. Princesses aren’t supposed to worry.

“I don’t even know what this man looks like.” Heike continues, gently pulling her fingers from Katerina’s grasp, curling them around her bare arms and closing her eyes— It’s easier to think in the darkness. “I suppose I could look but there is no point, I’ve made it this far without. No matter what I do he will still be here soon. His appearance isn’t really the point anyway. That’s what I keep telling myself at least.”

Heike mutters the last part but she’s sure she hears it.

Only a few measly seconds pass before Kat’s voice cuts through the darkness, as patient yet as pressing as ever. “What is the point then, Hei?”

Her. The point is her. It is not about whether Heike likes him— it doesn’t matter if she does, her mother has her ways of getting what she wants. The Queen— her holder. Gods, this man could hate Heike— take one look at her and despise everything he sees— and her mother would still, somehow, find a way to have them married.

Heike snaps her eyes open— she draws the line at having to think about a wedding. Her wedding. To a man who will probably hate her. That’s the point— marriage. Status. Everlasting, lukewarm relationships for the sake of kingdoms that are more an idea than anything else.

Again, Heike doesn’t say that, at least not all of it.

“What if he does not like me?” She can’t force her voice past a dull whisper, her hands— now that they aren’t being held steady— once again trembling.

Katerina’s face softens immediately, her eyes losing the glimmer of humor she had somehow been maintaining. It was probably for Heike’s benefit. People are always trying to keep her happy, like it’s some sort of crucial task. Keep Heike happy or it’s off with your head. Her— the princess— the burden. She doesn’t want any heads, she can barely keep track of her own at any given moment.

Case in point.

Katerina holds her arms open wide and raises a scarlet brow. Heike doesn’t waste any time in rushing forward and piling her body into Kat’s. Burden or not, there’s no way she’s about to refuse the best hugger in the castle.

The lady in waiting squeezes her arms around the princess, her words soft against her temple. “That is impossible. Impossible. You worry much too much— you always have. He will love you, Heike. I know he will. It’s impossible not to love you, trust me I would know.”

Heike snuggles deeper into her friend’s arms, soaking in as much of her lemon and vanilla perfume as possible. It’s the only thing that’s ever screamed home to her. She has been many places— danced on many stages— but coming home never meant the castle walls. It never meant anything because Katerina was always right there next to her, holding her hand or flicking her ear or snoring until the very last minute when they are being rushed off the plane and Heike is doing more of the waiting than anyone. She has always had the privilege of bringing her home with her— her citrusy, red haired home.

But for how long will that be possible?

She doesn’t ask— It is for her and her only to bear. “But what if he doesn’t?”

Katerina pulls back, much to Heike’s dismay, her hand slipping under her chin and squeezing gently. “The we run, Mi’lady.”

Heike’s heart softens. “We?”

Kat rolls her eyes, the left side of her mouth halfway to her ear— Heike supposes she should have seen that coming. “You are not leaving me here alone, miss.”

Bozhe, pomogi yey.

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Translations:

Bozhe, pomogi yey — God help her

[alexwritesfiction]

hear my heartbeat? (just focus on that)

words: 2370

genre: fluff, angst, mlm friendship

tw: a bit very sad hmm

a/n: i love this idk why. i really shouldnt be writing so much angst holy hell. please read it!

—

in which michael can't sleep because if nightmares and ashton helps him.

—

Michael hated sleeping. He couldn’t even think about it. Just the thought of closing his eyes sent shivers down his spine. He used to love sleep. Heck, that was all he did back when he could. But things change, especially for him they did. He started to play in a band. With his best friends, no less. And he couldn’t have been more elated.

He needed to sleep, he craved to. Every night he’d lay down, terrified but with a bit of hope that maybe, just maybe he’ll sleep. Maybe, he won’t wake up in the middle of the thrashing and sobbing.

All he could do was hope, and he was running out of it at an alarming rate. For the past couple of shows he’d looked horrendous, as if his eyes had been painted red. He didn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore. Didn’t feel like himself anymore.

He kept feeling worse and worse every day. It only doubled whenever he was struck with the realization that he should be happy that he even made something out of his career.

Lord, if Ashton could hear him right now, he would’ve no doubt broken down. And Michael couldn’t afford that. He needed Ashton to stay strong the way he was. He lived vicariously off him.

He thought Ashton didn’t know. But then again, he was the band dad after all. It was his job to protect his family. Where the band is, home is.

Today they were going to be playing a show in Copenhagen. The venue they were staying at only had two rooms, which means they’d have to share one each.

Sure, they’d shared rooms before, even beds, all four of them. But, this time, it was different. This time, Michael was different.

This scared him further. If he didn’t sleep alone, they’d know. He couldn’t bear the thought of having a nightmare while one of his bandmates was sleeping beside him. He could picture the disappointment on their faces. They’d hate him for not being okay. He was supposed to be fine. Michael had always been the chill, happy go lucky guy. The soft one, but strong. Oh, how untrue it was.

He may have been fine from the outside, but he just about was erupting like a volcano inside. And the lava ruined him every day. It was like he was the sun: bright from the outside, but just a big ball of black in the inside.

“C’mon Mike, we got to go,” Calum’s voice bounced off his door and he knocked. Michael currently sat in his stage clothes, trying to calm himself down as he curled into a ball. There was some shuffling outside the door, and then it burst open.

He looked up to see Ashton barging in with a wild look on his face. His face fell as he saw Michael curled up. But Michael, ever the tension diffusing machine, stood up faster than light and flashed a bright smile at him.

“Let’s freaking rock the stage tonight!” Michael grinning, hopefully throwing Ashton off track. He couldn’t let him know. But he could see it in Ashton’s eyes that he did. The look was gone as fast as it came, Ashton returning a soft smile.

Michael smiled gratefully, walking out the door, only to be held back by his arm as Ashton pulled him back and crushed him into a hug.

Michael inhaled sharply. He felt safe in his arms. He could breathe a bit better, even though it might just be a casual hug. His arms tightened against Ashton and then slowly tried to pull away. He knew that if he stayed like this any longer, he’d cry. And tears were weak. They weren’t manly. Especially not just before a show.

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know,” Ashton whispered in Michael’s ears, his voice cracking a bit at the end. Michael trembled, recognizing the words he’d said to his band whenenver one of them had felt bad. Michael took it upon himself to cheer them up. If only he could do that to himself.

“Ashton,” Michael said. Because what else was there to say, really. Nothing made sense in Michael’s mind. Other than Ashton.

“Boys, we really do gotta go!” Luke yelled from somewhere.

The hug just ended like that. Ashton held Michael to an arm’s length, scanning his face for any sign of weakness. He knew Michael was sad, but one thing he didn’t know that Michael had one of the best poker faces. And right now, the most heart-breaking thing was that he wanted to die, but his smile said that he couldn’t be happier.

Ashton, finally satisfied, nodded at Michael, signalling at him to go on stage. Michael heaved a sigh of relief. He just merely got out of that one, he thought. If he gets paired with Ashton to sleep on the bed, he would be doomed. He could feel it.

But he couldn’t risk messing up on stage. So, he stood and thought of how rainbows were magical and how kittens could make his heart melt. And when he finally felt ready to go, he did. And he rocked it.

---

He’d messed up. Bad. One of the best shows and it was his fault it messed up. He ran down the stage and to the backstage, ripping the guitar off his chest. Hot tears streamed down his face as he fell near the washrooms. Sobs wracked his body. His bandmates came after him, yelling his name.

“Michael, it’s okay",” the hushed him, standing tall over him, and peering down with pity in their eys. Michael hated pity. He didn’t need pity. He needed to just let it out.

Next thing he knows, he’s being lifted and engulfed into a hug by his best friends. This only made him cry harder. He should’ve stopped, should’ve calmed down. But he just couldn’t. The emotions kept erupting, the lava kept erupting and Michael wasn’t in control of his poker face anymore.

He heard Ashton say that he’d be rooming with Michael tonight, and he was so caught up in just breaking down that he was powerless.

“Let’s go” Ashton stated, and Michael barely nodded, wiping his endless tears with his long sleeves. One could have said he looked adorable even while crying, and Michael would have laughed at them. Right now, he could just imagine Ashton giving him a lecture on how to get better or think positive. But that's never helped. Still, he was determined to not let Ashton down. He was the one person to have cared for Michael even in the darkest times, when Luke and Calum and Ashton rose to shine and Michael was overlooked.

They reached a door, and a man, possibly a bodyguard opened it up, eyeing Michael up and down like he couldn’t believe someone could be so wrecked. he had disgust in his eyes, and Ashton noticed it too.

“You’re fired. Go home” Ashton said in his taking-no-shit voice. The man spluttered before rapidly nodding his head and looking at Michael one last time before walking away.

“Stupid freaking humans,” Ashton muttered, and Michael couldn't have agreed more. He giggled in between his crying, and it sounded like a frog wailing due to his croaky throat.

And then they both were laughing uncontrollably at the atrocity of it all. Michael didn’t know how much more he could cry, so he started laughing, and Ashton joined in until they were in peals of laughter, just laying on the bed,

Ashton laid back down, head on the pillow, Michael using Ashton's stomach as a pillow, and it didn’t feel awkward. Not one bit.

They calmed down after a few minutes, the hazy tension returing. Michael braced himself as he heard Ashton take a deep breath. His stomach bloated beneath Michael and he chuckled.

“You can't sleep, can you, Michael?” Ashton asked, his voice reflecting that he already knew the answer. Michael just chose not to answer that question. Ashton already knew, there was no point in saying anything. Except one.

“Go on, tell me how I should get better,”

Michael hadn’t meant for the words to come out so bitter and he sat up straight as hurt flashed in Ashton's eyes. But he recovered quick. He knew Michael hadn’t meant those words.

“I- I'm sorry – I didn’t – I didn’t mean that-” Michael struggled to explain, his hands flailing in different direction, once again on the verge of crying.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Shh. It's all right, Michael.” Ashton sat up and rested Michaels hand to his sides.

“I know you,” he breathed, and with that, Michael confirmed his suspicions. He was shaken for a second. He did not know why. Why was he so affected? He already suspected Ashton knew.

Michael’s mind was a hurricane, and it was spinning faster and faster. He couldn’t think of what to say to Ashton, how to handle this situation. That got to him, his ability to diffuse tension suddenly not acting.

“I can't sleep, Ash,” he said brokenly. Ashton locked eyes with him like he wanted to tear down the mask in his eyes and pull Michael out of whatever hole he falling into before it was too late. Michael already thought it was too late, but Ashton believed it never was. He hoped it was true.

It all comes down to hope, Michael thought, everything always comes down to hope. He hated that word now, with every fibre of his being.

He wasn’t aware that tears had started falling again, he just stared like a pale dead body at Ashton.

“I don’t hate you, you know,” Ashton said suddenly, surprising Michael with his words. He didn’t believe Ashton. How could he not hate someone so…sad?

Michael truly was a contradiction of himself. He could believe Ashton had his back and that he hated him simultaneously. That’s how he worked.

“I love you, Michael,” Ashton whispered into the dead silence of the room. His hands reached out to Michael’s cheeks, wiping away the drops that showed his weakness. Michael couldn’t hold himself in, he flung his weight onto Ashton, almost attacking him. They both fell back onto the pillows and Michael held onto Ashton for dear life.

Ashton sighed, softly rubbing Michael’s back until his tears dried and he could pass out from exhaustion. But Michael couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes, not when he’d cried so much.

Ashton had closed his eyes when Michael shifted his face from his stomach to look up at him. Ashton hummed in acknowledgement as if to say that he’s still there. Just…there. For him. And weirdly, that was all Michael needed to feel confident in telling him what he was about to.

“Hey, Ash?” he poked Ashton’s cheek repeatedly. Ashton didn’t respond, mocking him for being cute.

“Ash, Ash, Ash,” he kept chanting, finally cracking the curly haired boy up and making him pop one eye open. The tension that had been there had been dissipated as soon as cheeks were poked.

Michael had a soft smile on his face as he gazed up at Ashton. He blinked a few times, realizing they hadn’t even had the time to change their clothes. He still felt comfortable. Nothing other than Ashton could make him feel that way right now.

“Yeah?” Ashton murmured, raking his hands through Michael’s hair, which oddly felt like heaven.

“I can’t sleep,” he repeated his sentence from earlier, making Ashton confused. Why would he say that again?

“You already said-” he started, Michael cutting him off almost instantly.

“I have nightmares.” He stated. He felt Ashton inhale sharply at this. Ashton could never have imagined the extent of his acute insomnia. His hands stilled in Michael’s hair.

“God, Michael,” he stammered, “when were you gonna tell us?” Ashton asked, quietly as if the prospect of Michael keeping it to himself had hurt him. And it had, but he couldn’t focus on himself right now. this was about Michael, and he would be damned if he didn’t help him.

“Probably never,” Michael said truthfully, still lying on Ashton’s stomach. He grabbed Ashton’s hands from his hair and held them preciously between his own.

“There’s so many things I want to say to you right now, Mike. I just don’t know if I should say them now.” Ashton explained, and Michael understood perfectly. He’d known that feeling all too well.

“So, don’t,” Michael chuckled.

“Come here,” Ashton said in a voice that left no questions. Michael crawled up and lay his head on Ashton’s chest. He could feel a steady thumping beneath him and sighed and he put a hand over Ashton’s waist, cuddling up.

“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.” Ashton said after a few seconds. And he did. He paid attention to ever heartbeat, the feeling calming him down. He felt like the volcano had erupted and now it was just calm, like a boulder had been lifted off his chest. He knew it would last, but he couldn’t bring himself to get away from Ashton. He believed then that Ashton was the one he could go to without hesitation.

Michael smiled, his eyes unconsciously fluttering close. Ashton peered down after a few minutes when he heard small snores. And he saw the best sight he could’ve seen, as Michael slept cuddled up to him. Slept because he felt safe. In his arms.

Ashton couldn’t quite believe his eyes, and he had to do a double take before finally letting a grin spread on his face. He adjusted the pair of them so that they held hands, Michael on his chest with his other arm on Ashton’s waist, and Ashton’s hand resting on Michael’s head. He fell asleep too, in a while, the thought of Michael still on his mind.

If someone had seen them now, they’d have seen a couple. Two boyfriends sleeping. But it went far deeper than that. They were best friends. Brothers, more accurately. And neither of them could care enough as to what anyone thought they were.

Because that’s what they were, in the simplest words.

Michael and Ashton.

read it full on ao3 here :)

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One + One is Two

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: Please listen to Sam Cooke’s (What A) Wonderful World while you read this, or at least during the last scene. It was the brain child of this story & will make your heart happy, I promise! Word Count: 7K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Summary: 

Dissatisfied with his life as a book publisher in Seattle, Peter heads across the country to take a teaching job in High Rock, North Carolina. The town is beautiful and the new job is everything he could want - yet, true contentment comes when a saucy drama teacher sits down next to him at a staff meeting.

Much cuteness ensues.

Or, the one where Tony serenades Peter & we all go awe.

Read on AO3 here.

For the first time since his own high school days, Peter felt nervous.

Moving to the small little town of High Rock was one of the best decisions of his life – Peter knew that without having to exist in the masses of it for very long. While Seattle was gorgeous, and home to many, many book publishing agencies, it didn’t feel like home. And after almost ten years in the business, editing and selecting the next newest best seller just didn’t do it for him, anymore.

Instead, Peter found himself drawn to both a new career and a brand-new place.

When Peter first started college, he initially wanted to be a teacher; the education department at Columbia ranked amongst some of the best in the nation. After a bit of writing success, however, Peter changed his tune and started down the publishing career track, instead. He let himself get lost in the mess of creative writing and editing, his love for the art quickly taking on another shape. And for a time, it worked – honing in on different skills brought about a different love for the subject as a whole.

Things started to change when Peter took a step back and really looked at where he was. Though successful in his career, Peter spent most of his time making everyone else’s writing better, and no time on his own. The apartment he lived in since graduating college was gorgeous, yet it never screamed home the way he wanted it to. The social scene and foodie experience were great but lacking the sense of fulfillment that little pleasures like that should bring.

The perfect opportunity to change things up came in the form of a call from a friend he hadn’t seen since leaving Nag’s Head so many years ago. Ned, now the principal of a high school in High Rock, needed an English teacher – and was willing to look past the immediate lack of credentials. It didn’t take but a beat of silence for Peter to say yes – the decision made before he could think about it.

How natural it felt – that said something.

In the time between uprooting his life in Seattle to moving back to North Carolina, Peter took care of the certifications he needed and brushed up on teaching theory. His head was so stuck in the literary world that every step away, back towards his original passions, made his heart pound with excitement; a feeling so foreign, Peter almost didn’t recognize it.

Life in Seattle was great but being in High Rock was amazing – for the price of his apartment’s rent, Peter found a three-bedroom house with three times the space. The town resided around a lake, and to really drive that delicacy home, the weather was good enough to visit whenever the fancy struck. The everyday flow of life was different – a change of pace that Peter appreciated from the very second he walked into it.

Now, finally on the cusp of what could be considered to be his “dream job”, Peter felt nervous. Not the bad kind of nervous, where his stomach felt like it could drop out his ass at any minute. It was the kind, instead, that made his palms sweat with sweet apprehension – like the start of something totally new.

The reality of his fresh start didn’t truly set in until he pulled up to High Rock High School and parked in his employee parking spot a week before the start of school. The rest of the parking lot was relatively empty at the moment, but soon, all of the spaces would be occupied – taken up by young minds that Peter now had the opportunity to shape. It felt so real as he walked through the front doors and anxiously navigated himself to his perfectly decorated classroom. He pulled in a long breath and let the potential of what could be settle over him.

He took his time reacquainting himself with the room he put together a few weeks ago when the teachers were allowed access during summer break. After a lot of thought, Peter meticulously used his calligraphy skills to make hangable quotes from the books he couldn’t wait to cover throughout the year. His desk, though smaller than what he was used to, stood proudly in the corner he made for himself – the bookshelves he brought from Seattle set up along the walls were already stuffed to the gills with books and resources.

For the first time in what felt like ten years, Peter felt a sense of home that settled him – his chest finally loosening after such a long time.

That settled feeling followed him all the way into the cafeteria, where the first ever staff meeting of his career was set to take place. In the book world, meetings with clients and supervisors were always stuffy, filled with sucking up and holding back little truths that would change the interaction if known. Transparency wasn’t anywhere close to the name of the game.

Not knowing what to expect from these, Peter felt the apprehension start to creep back in.

Might be a good thing, Peter thought – nerves kept him on his toes and in this new start, he wanted to put his best foot forward. Never having taught before, Peter wasn’t sure what that actually looked, but the best intentions were there.

Taking a seat at the big circle of tables already decked out in coffee fixings and donuts, Peter let his eyes roam around. Despite being more than ten years removed from high school, the lunchroom looked exactly like he pictured the one he spent so much time in during his school days. The old smell of large pan pizza and disinfectant even seemed the same. The familiarity of it, despite the newness of the space, brought that feeling of comfort rushing back.

Suddenly, the smell of woody outdoors and musk and man filled his nostrils. Turning his head in the direction of the smell, Peter was surprised to see the seat next to him now occupied. The man (though Adonis would be more fitting) sat up straight with a warm and welcoming smile on his face.

It took Peter a second to register the fact that social protocol usually demanded something from him at this moment in time. His attempt to pull in a deep, calming breath was thwarted when the exhale brought in that delectable scent. Feeling his cheeks pinken, Peter ducked his head, the lack of eye contact just enough to get his shit back under control.

“Uh – hi! I’m Peter. Peter Parker,” Peter finally said in greeting, his hand moving into the space between them. If things weren’t awkward enough, Peter’s nerves were back through the roof – though this time, they brought a sort of warmth that could easily be intoxicating.

A warm hand slipped into his own, the man’s grip tight without being too overbearing; eerily right in the sense that their joint contact didn’t feel forced at all. “Hey there, Peter Parker. I’m Tony Stark – resident drama teacher.” He pulled his hand away from Peter’s to gesture at himself.

Not completely out of his mind with surprise any longer, Peter took the rest of Tony, resident drama teacher, in. His goatee, while not entirely thick, was styled within an inch of its life – the edges were sharp, and the corners came together in a severe angle at the start of his jaw. A waistcoat sat over a dark salmon colored shirt that was delightfully finished with a black striped bow tie. Peter wasn’t sure what shouted drama teacher about the ensemble, but he nodded anyway – he enjoyed the open invitation to take more of Tony in without the whole thing feeling a bit creepy.

“Dramatic,” Peter finally added, the free-range movement of his eyes probably too much without at least a little continuation of the conversation. “It’s English for me – I’ll have the junior and senior AP kids.”

Tony’s nose scrunched up adorably, his face suggestive in its emotional expression – dramatic, after all. He shifted a little closer, the space between their seats not much now that they sat shoulder to shoulder. If he really tried, Peter could feel the warmth of Tony’s arm drift just barely under the surface of his skin.

Briefly, he wondered what the warmth would be like if that skin was bare.

Then, Tony’s melodic voice pulled him from his inappropriate thoughts. He bumped their shoulders, a smile on his face. “If you’ve got the juniors, that means we’ll get to work together pretty closely. We do a stage rendition of Hamlet to take the Shakespeare out of good ole Willie’s work. It seems to help with the comprehension.”

Face lighting up, Peter felt his heart thump a little harder – his love of Shakespeare was what brought about the English passion to begin with. The fact that he already had reason to spend time with the enigma of a man next him barely even registered. “I love that. His plays are meant for the stage, after all.”

“They are – and totally accessible to modernization. If you’re on board, we can put together something fun and educational.” Tony’s lips were pulled into a smirk, Peter’s lack of verbal and emotional filter giving away so much more than he truly wanted.

Blushing, Peter brought his hands together, lacing his fingers for the tactile distraction of the movement. It took him a second to hold back the blurt, his brain working overtime to process the words Tony said and respond accordingly. Just because he was now in a high school, didn’t mean he needed to act like one of its inhabitants.

“As long as you don’t expect me to be in it, I think it’ll be great.”

Tony laughed at that, the already adorable nose scrunch making its way back onto his gorgeous face. He ducked his shoulder into Peter’s again, that same smirk on his face. “What you don’t like to make a fool of yourself?” Tony asked as he pushed back from the table to get up.

“Speaking of,” Tony trailed off, the man now completely out of his seat and making his way to the front of the cafeteria that was now quite occupied with his fellow teachers and administrators alike.

With wide eyes, Peter watched as Tony stood in the middle of three other middle-aged teachers, their shirts and bowties noticeably coordinated now that he was paying attention. As if waiting for Tony’s arrival, the room went silent. With a few well-timed snaps, a cluster of voices started in what could only be described as a jazzy barbershop quartet version of the school’s fight song.

Peter watched in awe, his eyes glued to Tony – the moves he brought to the table were fancy and smooth, completely in sync with the subpar performers around him. They didn’t matter, that was easy to see. Tony drew everyone’s attention, his big personality and undeniable talent noticed by just about everyone in the room. Despite these people probably having seen this little song and dance before, they still watched with rapt attention.

Unable to stop himself, Peter clapped when the cacophony of voices came to an end. He got up from his chair with little finesse, his body way ahead of the heavy thing that existed between his shoulders. The rest of the room looked at him oddly for a second, then added to the applause.

In terms of first impressions, Peter was totally winning.

Thankfully, the rest of the meeting went without a hitch. Peter got a couple of minutes to introduce himself and talk a little bit about his previous experience. He knew he brought an interesting perspective to the table, both as a teacher and someone interested in making the student’s lives as easy and enriched as possible. When it came time to sign up for volunteer chaperone opportunities, Peter cleverly put himself in a couple he thought might attract Tony’s attention, too.

Because, for some reason, Peter’s brain decided that Tony Stark needed to be in his life in some way. Though he forced himself to not name the way he wanted it to be, Peter understood all too well what a crush felt like. There was a lot of time between his last flame and the surge of that old familiar feeling rushing within him – and despite barely knowing him, Peter knew potential when he saw it.

Of course, his next chance to see Tony outside of the classroom setting didn’t come until several weeks into school. Decked out in his new High Rock gear, Peter tried not to look out of place at the gates of the football stadium where he signed himself up to take tickets for the first half of the game. Some of the students that recognized him waved and tried to make small talk – an art that Peter hadn’t fine-tuned in quite some time. Everyone else cast him a sidelong glance and went about their way.

An internal groan radiated through him – it felt silly to be so frustrated about these young kids not liking him, and yet… most of his thoughts revolved around bridging the gap he knew existed. Not for the first time, Peter figured the skill was one he would’ve learned in the education program he so carelessly threw away. Book dealers and authors were a stuffy sort – the extent of wanted conversation existed within the bounds of how good (or sometimes, how shitty) their latest piece was. And profits – always profits.

“If you just relax, they’ll be way more receptive.”

Turning to find the source of the words, Peter didn’t even try to stop the smile on his face from blooming when he realized who it was. A sudden gratefulness settled over him – in his many attempts to dress for the evening, Peter put on his newest (and nicest) jeans. They were both comfortable and fit him like a glove. The secret of his crush wasn’t much of a secret – why try to hide anything else (especially his nicest assets)?

“Easy for you to say, Mr. Stark – you ooze cool from your pores,” Peter remarked, his eyebrows waggling cheesily. “In all seriousness, I’m trying. The shift in mindset has been a challenge. Kids want realness and that sort of thing would’ve landed me on my ass not too long ago.”

The low sound of Tony’s laugh rang in Peter’s ears, the octave of it so rich in its depths that a shudder ran down his spine. He wondered, not for the first time, how the musicality translated to other more melodic things.

“None of that Mr. Stark shit from you, Peter Parker – it’s bad enough the kids call me that. I’m just a regular, single gent outside of the classroom.” As he spoke, Tony narrowed the space down between them, their shoulders once again within brushing distance. “Why don’t you try not trying? I’ve taken a peek in your classroom during a lecture or two – you know your shit and have passion for it. Let a little more of that seep into the everyday stuff and you’ll have them eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“Is that what you do? Let all of the bubbliness pour out until they can do nothing but admire the hell out of you?”

Peter pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to stop the sound that threatened to fall from his lips when Tony laughed again – it shouldn’t be legal, being that goddamn adorable all the time.

“That’s exactly what I do. I enjoy every second of my job and let people see that. Being genuine goes a long way, Pete.”

Sucking in a breath, Peter felt those words hit him square in the gut. Were there truer words in existence?

“In an attempt to be genuine, would you possibly be interested in a drink later?” Feeling his eyes bulge at the words that effortlessly came out of his mouth, Peter tried to backtrack. “I mean – I – “

Tony cut off the splutter with a hand on Peter’s shoulder, his touch that same warmth he remembered. “I’d love to. I wasn’t sure you were going to finally pull the trigger – I planned to ask you out myself if you didn’t soon.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed, the heat of them burning so hot he had to be as red as a tomato. Between the flame and the stretch of his lips, Peter wasn’t sure he’d see the end of the night with all of his face intact – smiling his way to an early death.

After that, the rest of the game flew by in a whirlwind of easy conversation, student monitoring, and one too many hot dogs. At one point, Peter bought them both another just to see Tony open his mouth – the literal thirst he felt towards the drama teacher something Peter wasn’t sure existed before meeting Tony Stark. There was just something about his lips…

By the time the last two minutes of the fourth quarter were ticking down, Peter was more than ready to get the hell out of dodge. The thought of having his students witness his awkward mating dance made his skin crawl. He loved being back in the high school atmosphere – that time of adolescence was an exciting one. At the same time, the wagging gums of the gossip mongers were hard to get used to. There were things he knew about some of the kids that passed through his door that no other human should know, let alone the simple, unsuspecting English teacher.

When the game clock finally dwindled down, Tony bumped into his shoulder. Realizing that was Tony’s way of drawing his attention, Peter looked over at him. Tony stood casually against the fence, both hands in the deep pockets of his jacket.

“Let’s get the hell out of here before there’s a huge sea of teens heading right for us. If they spot us, it’ll be ages before we’re in the clear,” Tony remarked, his right hand slipping out of the pocket to grip onto Peter’s elbow, instead.

It didn’t take anything more than that to kick Peter into gear. He allowed himself to relax into the touch and walked with sure steps towards the exit. Now that his duties were done for the evening, Peter felt a different sort of contentment wash over him – the rest of the night was for himself, and if things went really well, a slice of Tony Stark, too.

“There’s a nice wine bar about twenty minutes outside of High Rock’s city limits that’s got a great chardonnay – want to follow me?” Tony asked as they approached the parking lot, his hands already tossing his keys around the ring over and over.

The man’s inability to stay put was easily one of the things that Peter felt immediately attracted to. There was a reason for it, and he couldn’t wait to find out.

“Yes, please. For such a small town, it’s surprisingly difficult to navigate.”

“They do that on purpose. Small towns, I mean. It discourages the infiltration of outsiders.” Tony shot him a look, the mirth in his eyes hard to decipher. If it weren’t for the telling smirk on his lips, Peter never would’ve gotten the joke.

“You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?” Peter asked, affection lacing his voice. “And a transplant too, isn’t that right?”

“The nicest asshole you’ll ever know.” He looked up; surprise evident on his face. “Very clever, Peter Parker – doing your homework. I grew up on the upper east side in New York and went through Tisch’s theater program. Thought I’d be a star.”

Peter chuckled at that – the entirety of the school idolized Tony. It wasn’t the biggest stage to be the center of attention of, but stardom wasn’t something that Tony lacked. “You are. I’ve looked in your door while you were teaching, too, y’know. Every person in your class watches you with this look of awe in their eyes. That’s star power, my friend.”

“Do I smell a bias?” Tony joked back quickly, the words covering up the flash of unnamed emotion the man refused to let settle across his features. “If my campy spiel is enough to rope you in, I can’t be too upset.”

Not giving a shit about revealing too much of himself the same way Tony did, Peter let the beaming smile play along the seam of his lips. His cheeks were pinching with overuse, burning and a little tingly. It felt great – enjoying life and someone else in it so much.

“Bias or not, it’s the truth.”

Tony threw his hands up in concession, the earnest way Peter spoke obviously too much for him. His cheeks were a little red, and the tiniest bit of blush on cheeks was unmistakable. It was unfair really; how attractive someone could make just about any emotion seem. Shy and demure, or rambunctious and fiery – Tony owned them all. Peter had to work very hard to stop from admitting that outright. Instead, he ducked his head and let out an overwhelmed breath.

Getting to the winery felt a little like floating on air – Spotify hit all the right jams and before Peter knew it, they were parking in front of a rustic looking building. There was outdoor seating with people milling about, the soft orange of the light such a good marketing technique; one look and Peter immediately felt at home.

To order, they had to walk into the storefront that opened into a small bar area. The chalkboard leaned up against the wall held the menu with a vast expanse of wines that would be overwhelming if he wasn’t going to parrot Tony’s order. A few people milled about waiting for their drinks, and in the mellow atmosphere, soft music played to top it all off.

Peter took a moment to soak it in – an aura of atmosphere that was everything he didn’t know he wanted settled in, the beautiful man next to him really driving it home.

They waited for a few minutes to order, the two of them chatting back and forth about the game and their excitement for the weekend. Tony leaned into Peter while he talked, a whiff of delectable cologne wafted into Peter’s nostrils with every press of his body. The whole thing was intoxicating, the head-spin almost like he was already drunk – high on the rightness of all the things.

With a glass of wine each, Tony led them back out towards the scattered seating outside. They took a seat in a couple of chairs that sat at the edge of the little fireplace in the middle of the setup. Though the night wasn’t too cold, the warmth was welcome – the flicker of flames casting Tony’s skin in a golden hue not hurting, either.

“So, tell me a bit more about you, Pete – what brought you to High Rock?” Tony asked after a couple of long sips of wine, the silence and overall mood hovering between them so much more than enough.

Peter stuck his nose in his wine and took a deep breath, thinking for a moment about how to express himself. “A lot of things,” he said softly, his eyes roving across the flames of the fire in front of them before meeting Tony’s gaze. “I think I got caught up in the excitement of being young and veered off the path I truly wanted. I was happy enough for a long time that it didn’t really matter, either. And then one day, I blinked and dissatisfaction with just about everything in my life was there, plain as day in front of me. When Ned offered me this job out of the blue, it just felt right.”

Tony watched him while he spoke, his eyes trained first on lips around words, then on the expressions flitting across Peter’s face. It felt a little unnerving, being so seen by someone, but Tony simply smiled at him, a small smile on his face. “Wanderlust. I know what that’s like. All I wanted to do was be on Broadway – then all of the sudden, working sixteen hours a day just to be broke in the chorus wasn’t all that fun, anymore. I spread open a map of North Carolina, closed my eyes, and picked a place at random. I love High Rock – it was the best decision of my life.”

“I like it here, too. And I like teaching. I like being able to sift through the books I loved so much growing up, watching the kids learn how to love them, too. It’s… it’s really nice.”

The conversation went on like that for a while. Tony told him horror stories of his first couple years or teaching, and some of the better times in his stage experience. In return, Peter described some of the worst plotlines ever put in front of him, and the story behind the long scar that took up residence on the back of his right hand.

While he regaled Tony of his epic adventure with a printing press, the older man reached over, his fingertip running along the length of the sensitive skin. Peter came to an abrupt stop, his brain emptying of everything other than the sensory experience of warm skin and gentle exploration.

There was a second where Peter thought he might not ever catch his breath again – the adrenaline pumping through him from such a small thing shouldn’t have been so exciting. The idea that someone, anyone, could make him feel like that, so caught up and overwhelming, it should’ve been scary. Instead, it felt exhilarating. Like he didn’t have the patience to see what happened next, he just wanted.

“Since being genuine is the name of the game, I’m going to admit that I wouldn’t be opposed to getting out of here and continuing this at my place… or yours,” Peter admitted, his previous train of thought completely out the window. Whatever they were talking about before didn’t matter – not when the firelight made Tony’s eyes look like molten amber in the dark of the night.

Tony’s gentle laugh pulled a chuckle out of Peter, the air suddenly filled with a tranquil sort of tension that would only get better the longer they nursed it. Peter felt that in his very bones.

Without saying anything, Tony tucked his wine glass back and tipped the rest of the wine into his mouth, his lips shining with the excess when he pulled away. Peter felt his tongue dip out, the tip running along his bottom lip the same way he wanted to do to Tony. The wine was magnificent and had the capacity to only get better off of Tony’s kissable skin. It took every ounce of power within him to stop Peter from closing the distance.

Have some self-control, Peter Parker.

“I’ve got some wine that will piggy-back nicely off of what we just drank,” Tony said as he stood, his movement beautiful relaxed. The offer was nice, but they both knew another glass of wine wasn’t what the rest of the night would entail.

Getting up himself, Peter shot Tony a saucy grin, the soreness in his cheeks reminding him just how good their time spent together was and certainly seemed like it was going to be.

“Lead the way.”

Surprisingly, Peter’s impatience was easily overridden by Tony the second they were through his front door. Peter didn’t get any time to take in the place, his entire being instead focused on the warm chest and plump lips pressing against his own. Trim hips were in the palms of his hand, and nothing else mattered.

Peter didn’t really know Tony all that well, but what he did know was that Tony did everything with his entire being. Dancing, teaching, even having a simple conversation, Tony focused on the task; and kissing wasn’t any different. His long fingers took up residence in the length of hair at the back of Peter’s neck. His lips, both soft and slightly chapped, pressed confidently against Peter’s with gusto – he took and gave, his head turning to deepen the kiss when tongues slid together in a sensuous dance.

They took their time shifting from surface to surface during the journey from the front door to Tony’s bedroom. The impatience of a quick fumble dulled considerably when a few things registered – Tony’s touch was magical, their bodies fit together seamlessly, and when combined it all felt like something Peter never felt before (and didn’t want to ever not feel again). Something in the way things played out so easily between them said this wouldn’t be the only time like this, tangled up and caught.

By the time Peter pushed Tony back against the bed, boxer briefs were the only thing separating bare skin. Settling between spread legs that were lithe and clenching with muscle, Peter filled all of Tony’s empty spaces with his body – their chests pressed together and when Tony wrapped his legs around Peter’s hips, there was no telling where one ended and the other began.

Peter kissed a path down Tony’s jaw and neck, across the span of a surprisingly hairy chest, and further along the length of his toned stomach – the slightest swell of a belly right along the edge of the soft waistband a lovely contradiction. Tony painted a gorgeous picture and the smallest “imperfection” played in contrast so deliciously.

Hooking his fingers under the waistband of Tony’s underwear, Peter glanced up to catch the lust filled, hazel glance. Tony answered the look with a nod of his head, his mouth opening in a silent moan when Peter finally removed the last barrier. He made quick work of his own drawers in an attempt to finally knew what Tony truly felt like.

The first brush of Tony’s warm skin against his own brought Peter’s hips forward, a soft gasp falling from his lips when cock brushed against cock. The level of excitement spoke for itself when the slide was easy, both heads already leaky with pre-come. Peter ducked his head in Tony’s neck to avoid embarrassing himself – it felt too good and the edge felt so close already.

“What do you want?” Peter asked, his lips pressing against the moist skin of Tony’s neck as their hips rolled together. He used his free hand to hike the muscular thigh higher around his hip, the move making the angle even better than before. “You feel so good, Tony. Tell me what you want – I’ll give you anything.”

His words brought a groan from deep within Tony’s chest – Peter felt it before it sounded in the space between them. He felt Tony reach up to grip his bicep, the man’s fingers digging in tight.

“God, you’re better at this than I imagined. Your words feel like liquid fire against my skin. I want you, Pete – anything and everything.” Tony finished his words with a kiss against the side of Peter’s head, his lips just barely brushing the shell of Peter’s ear. “We have time for that, though. Tonight – I think you should fuck me.”  

Peter pulled back then, his hips stalling for a second. Their eyes locked and for a second, his heart felt like it was stuttering through its cycle, systole and diastole suddenly out of sync – was there anything sexier? Drawing his lower lip to stop any rogue words from falling out before the time was right, Peter nodded, his cock throbbing at the very idea.

With a quick kiss on the lips and a fumble with the bedside table, Tony shifted onto his stomach, arranging himself in a glorious position. His legs were spread and every time he leaned forward on his forearms, Peter watched Tony’s hole fluttering, the muscle clenching and unclenching with every move.

Unable to decide whether he wanted to dive in face first or just get prep over and done with, Tony made the decision for him – the lube hit Peter square in the chest when Tony tossed it at him.

“Please, Pete.”

The words were directive enough. Peter flipped open the cap and poured a good amount into the palm of his hand. He let the slick warm up before letting a little drip down Tony’s ass cheeks, the lube sliding across his twitching hole enticingly. Using his thumb to spread it around, Peter forced himself to take a deep breath before pressing the tip of his point finger in. He was met with no resistance, so he slipped forward until the webbing of his finger stopped him.

That same rhythm went on as Peter entered a second, and then finally a third finger in, each new digit loosening Tony considerably with every push and pull, in and out. His skin was covered with sweat and every moan Tony made let Peter think he could cum without ever having touched himself. Things were intimate, each touch like making memory. If they went on like this forever, Peter could die happy.

“Okay, okay – I need you to fuck me. I could cum just from your fingers and I planned on pulling you over with me.” Tony panted out, the words a little muffled by Tony’s forearms, where the man was leaning heavily.

Understanding the sentiment, Peter slipped his fingers out carefully. He immediately wrapped them around his own cock, spreading the excess lube around. While he tried to piece himself together enough not to come upon first touch, Tony fumbled in the bedside drawer again, a condom hitting his knee a second later. His skin flushed and with shaky movements, Peter picked up the foil packet, ripped the edge with his teeth, and quickly got the damn thing down his length.

With a little more lube, Peter was finally pressed against Tony’s entrance, the muscle giving way without much of a push. He made himself slide into Tony’s tightness with one steady stroke – if he pulled back at all, the whole thing would be over. When he was finally seated fully, Peter came to an abrupt halt. Breaths were hard to come by, his entire being on fire. The few seconds Tony needed to adjust gave Peter a second to lean his forehead against Tony’s back and simply breath.

Tony clenched his hole around Peter in invitation, the pulse of the muscle there immediately dragging Peter’s hips forward. A loud groan echoed around the room, neither knowing (or caring) who the noise belonged to. It felt too good, and as Peter set up a steady rhythm, both men got lost amongst the haze.

Peter’s body took over, the neurons in his brain operating on fight or flight. Long fingers dug into Tony’s hips; his grip tight. There’d be bruises there later, Peter using the touch to pull Tony back against him. Thrust after thrust, the tip of his cock brushed more frequently against a sensitive prostate, and once Peter knew where that pleasure center was, he didn’t let up.

As the end drew near, Peter changed his approach. Plastering himself over Tony’s back, his hips slowed down a little, and with a better grip, Peter thrust in deeply, his arms around the trim chest pulling Tony back hard. Now, every thrust hit Tony’s prostate dead on – the sounds coming out of the man’s mouth magnifying the feeling for them both. The helpless groan of pleasure-pain was delicious – Tony clenched with each dead-on hit, the grip so fucking tight around him.

A soft groan of Peter’s name was the only warning he got before Tony was cumming; the flutter and tightness pulling Peter right along with him. Peter shouted his surprise and pulled Tony as tightly against him as he possibly could. The world felt like it was melting around him – that little death fucking earth shattering.

When he finally came to, Peter felt Tony’s hands petting over him, his touch providing a tactile support that helped to ground him and prolong the sensitive pleasure. He loosened his grip up a little but didn’t let go until the need to dispose of the condom became too necessary to postpone. A pathetic little groan slipped from his lips when he pulled out, Peter’s body already missing the connection.

They cleaned up before the stickiness of their skin made the next morning more crusty than necessary, then fell back into bed – the two of them avoiding the wet spot instead of changing the sheets like any normal people would. Peter felt his limbs start to give up on him, the soft mattress and warm man promising a sweet sort of sleep that couldn’t be resisted.

Settling in with Tony wrapped up behind him, Peter let himself fall asleep – the future bright in front of him.

----

Things developed between them so easily after that. Being with Tony felt like getting to hang out with his best friend every day, and without any hesitation from the man, they spent practically all their time together. The fact that it felt like nothing but the best things changed in his life said a lot – he introduced a whole ass person into his space and time without any problems. Most people took years to find the sort of comfort that existed between him and Tony.

Because of all the time they spent together, it didn’t take long for the secret to get out. When Mr. Parker started to spend all of his lunch hours in Mr. Stark’s office, the rumors started. By the time Peter finally just pulled Tony into a kiss before they split up in the morning to shut everyone up, the ideas the students came up with were hilarious. Many people speculated that they’d been married for years, their sense of ease together too perfect to be as new as it truly was.

When Peter got to High Rock, he wasn’t looking for love. The idea of a change included a new job and a new place to explore, not a person who he suddenly couldn’t live without. Though he didn’t set out for it, love found him all the same.

Around Valentine’s Day, Peter felt the itch to finally tell Tony what they both already knew. Despite spending almost every available second together, the words were never said, even though the feeling was so transcendent it was stupidly hard to miss. They had the sort of connection that didn’t need a name – and once the genie was out of the bottle, Peter wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop saying the words he felt so wholeheartedly.

On one hand, he wanted the whole thing to be special. A night where they wine and dined, talked into the early hours of the morning, and then, when they were sated and close to passing out from marathon love making, he’d press the words into Tony’s skin. It fell into the dramatic category that Peter knew Tony would absolutely appreciate. Yet, the feeling existed between them from the very get go – did putting a name to that feeling really matter all that much?

The answer came a couple of weeks later. They were in the heart of AP test preparation, so he had after hour study sessions on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. After taking Tony’s advice and relaxing a little, students actively paid more attention to his class and the seats were almost always full during his get-togethers.

They made great work on some of the imagery that encompassed the Scarlet Letter, and Peter left his classroom more than satisfied. The thought of simply walking down the hall to see his favorite person didn’t hurt his mood, either. Tony sometimes spent the couple of hours after school in his classroom waiting, and today was one of those days.

For the first time since the end of the holiday school musical, Peter heard music playing in Tony’s classroom. They were in the depths of play season, so Tony’s mind was usually elsewhere. Yet, the closer he got to the door, the louder the music became. The smooth sounds of one of his favorite Sam Cooke songs picked up the pace of his steps – the dopamine of good music and Tony spurring him on.

What he found when he walked in the door was so much better.

Down to his white shirt and black waistcoat, Tony was counting out steps as he sang along with the music. Instead of Sam Cooke’s voice, Tony sang the cheesy lyrics with amazing clarity. The last time they listened to this song, Peter was dumbfounded by the deepness of his voice – and now was no exception.

He must’ve been in the zone, because Tony didn’t acknowledge him at first. The music played and a well-practiced dance followed. Peter watched with rapt attention, the whole thing the best thing he’d ever seen. By the time Tony noticed him, Peter was closing the space between them, his voice echoing the last round of the chorus.

A look of surprise passed across Tony’s face, his years of experience not letting it show anywhere else. He smiled at Peter, dancing into his arms until they were chest to chest – finishing the song looking into each other’s eyes.

Delightful red flush covered Tony’s cheeks when the music stopped, his eyes still wide with surprise and delight. “You weren’t supposed to see this yet,” Tony admitted, a sheepish look on his face.

“I’m glad I did. I love watching you like this. In your element.” Peter gripped Tony’s face in his hands then, fingers digging into the long hair at his temples. Even if he wanted to, Tony couldn’t break the eye contact between them. “And gosh – I love you. So much, I almost can’t stand it.”

Tony’s eyes roamed over his face for a second, the honey-hazel glance obviously taking in the genuineness in his words. When he found his answer, he leaned forward, taking Peter’s lips in a passionate kiss. He didn’t linger, however – their eyes locking again just seconds later.

“I love you too, Pete. It’s so easy and being with you – it finally feels like I’m right where I should be.”

Grinning, Peter brushed their noses together, his lips ghosting over Tony’s lightly.

“We both are.”

[babovens]

7, 26, 36, 63, 75! :D

Forgive me Spiffy, these turned into a mini therapy session XD

7. Are you in love? Do you want to be?

Does Katsuya Serizawa count?

Okay, but seriously. I really, really, REALLY want to know what it’s like to be in love. I’ve had 2 experiences with dating and both times were, well, horrible to be honest. So whenever I watch movies or read stories that describe how amazing it feels to have someone who understands you completely, I honestly get lonely. That being said, I can’t imagine myself in a relationship anytime soon. I’m too busy and too scared to be that vulnerable to someone.

26. What’s the most life-changing choice you’ve made so far?

Actually, this happened not that long ago. So, my dream since I was a kid was to be a broadway star. THE leading lady. So I got into one of the top 10 Musical Theatre universities and I thought I was set. However, after Freshman year, I began to discover that I didn’t like the stage or the spotlight as much as I used to, but… instead of listening to my feelings, I shoved them down, ignored them, and continued to take 20 credit hours, spend way too much time on music I didn’t even like, and believe that what I wanted was to be the lead and the star of the show. Because in a top 10 university, if your dream isn’t broadway, what are you even doing here? Why are you trying? You are not one of us.

Just quit already.

It didn’t help that my voice teacher, mom, dad, and some friends all wanted me to make it big, but it wasn’t until I said out loud, “I don’t want this,” that I began to discover what I truly loved. I like crafting. I like so do goofy voices. I like sitting outside in the sun and transposing/transcribing music for others. I love singing in a group. I’d much rather be in a chorus or in the background than be a leading lady.

And that’s okay.

So I’m still going to go through with my degree (I’ve gotten this far) but I’ve realized I’m content with pursuing the simpler side of the performing career. It doesn’t make me any less of a person or performer. In conclusion, your life is your own <3

36. Have you ever met someone who had a very similar personality to your own? Did you get along?

My best/childhood friend IRL and I are EXTREMELY similar personality wise. And considering we’ve been best friends since kindergarten, I’d say we get along pretty well XD

Despite many of our career paths and talents to be very different, (she is devoted to helping others through her work and I’m content with just, well, being) we still are the most supportive pair to each other. We even entrust each other to read our wild fanfics which honestly act more like therapy sessions than anything. It’s nice to have someone that I can trust with those things.

63. How confident are you, really?

This question just called me out with the ‘really’ at the end XD.

The simple answer is absolutely not, but I’m really good at faking it. I used to be much more confident in myself but college kind of threw that in the garbage. I think day after day with rejections from auditions saying “Your voice is too low” “You’re too tall” “Your physique doesn’t match your energy” “You don’t match our vision” really got to me. It taught me to not love the things about myself that make me unique such as my height or my low voice. I’m getting better at being confident in myself, but some days are harder than others.

75. Do we have a moral obligation to care for others? To what extent?

Hard question but my answer is ...y-yeeeeeeeeees???

I’m all about having the freedom to choose what you can and can’t do, but like, just be kind to others? Please? That’s a loaded answer I know, but I can’t force anyone to do anything. I just hope that people do the right thing. Just be a good person

[babybirdgyeom]

jackson wang: “more than friends.”

pairing: jackson wang & reader

prompt: “i said it before and i’ll say it again, i think we should be more than friends.”

genre: fluff, reader being an actress, jackson being a flirt

word count: 2.5k

summary: why did he have to be so charming? it was almost impossible to resist him and tonight, you felt yourself slowly giving in.

note: this is a drabble i wrote for my follower special - request here.

“Another night, another drama.”, you heard Jackson's voice behind you, recognizing it instantly. turning around, the young man, and also good friend, was already looking at you, his skin glowing like always and his bright smile making his masculine features looking a bit softer.

You laughed, pulling him into a hug, “Oh, I'd actually prefer no drama at all tonight.”

“You know how these award shows are, my love.”, he shrugged, keeping his space between you two, knowing there were tons of paparazzi around that would just die to get a shot of you two standing just a little bit too close to each other. It could be a real hassle, not even being able to stand near each other without having tons of newspapers and unprofessional online magazines eyeing you, just waiting for their next big headline. But after time you got used to it, after all, that’s what both of you knew you were getting yourself into with a career like yours.

“Are you nominated for anything tonight?”, Jackson asked you while walking inside the big hall, always staying right next to you. The ballroom looked beyond impressing, but you didn’t expect anything less. It was rather full already, famous people from all over the world sitting on their tables or standing near the bar, making new and possible useful contacts. Events like these always made you feel so small.

“No, luckily not.”, you chuckled, “God knows I'd faint standing in front of this many people and giving an award speech.”

“Still not used to a big crowd?”, your friend teased you, knowing that you hated the spotlight. Of course, as a singer Jackson was more than familiar with standing in front of a live audience but you, as an actress, weren’t used to that at all - and to your luck, you didn’t have to deal with those kind of things on a regular base.

“At this point I don’t think I'll ever get used to it.”, you said, scanning the big seat plan in front of you for your name.

Standing right behind you Jackson pointed to your name, “Found you.”, he said and you could feel his chest against your back.

Jackson and you had a, sadly, pretty complicated relationship - you met him a year ago at the same event and ever since then you stayed in contact. Everyone loved Jackson Wang, the kind and charismatic man from China. It’s like he was born as a social butterfly and of course, exactly with that charm, he also got you caught up in him.

And seriously, it was hard trying to convince yourself that you had no feelings for him, especially when he was very vocal about his attraction towards you.

He tried to convince you to give it a shot more than just once, making it even harder to resist him when he was being an absolute sweetheart to you too - surprising you with a beautiful and giant bouquet of flowers on your birthday, texting you pictures from the Eiffel Tower, insisting to take you there someday and always cheering for you at every event the two of you attended. No wonder the two of you were the media’s hottest topic at the moment.

So in conclusion: You’d only lie to yourself if you said he had no effect on you whatsoever. It was almost frustrating to feel so attracted to him, knowing there’s no time to actually act on your feelings. There have several been drunk talks with him about your relationship, just the two of you fantasizing about all the beautiful ‘What ifs’ and romantic ‘Could bes’, but all those conversations ended with the same result: There simply was no time for a relationship. No matter how much you two tried, in no resolution would you end up being happy.

“So, you’re just here to support me, huh?”, he said, giving you a cheeky smile. The way he flirted was bold and you couldn’t lie, you loved it.

Rolling your eyes, trying to play it cool, you shook your head, “I'm here because I got invited, that’s why.”

He let out a scoff, “Sure, (y/n). You’re just known to love those kinds of events.”

Suddenly you felt him coming closer behind you, not too close to be pushy or intrusive, not too close to let anyone realize that he was flirting with you, but still close enough to make your heart beat a bit faster, “When will you finally let me in?”

His words hurt like a knife. It’s been going back and forth like this for a few months. Jackson knew as good as you that there was a spark between the two of you, a spark that couldn’t be denied. It was already there when the two of you first met, the innocent glances and the shared touches of laughter were too obvious. It was there when you attended your first event together, when he brought you home after another event on which you drank just a little too much and it was there when he invited you to dinner to celebrate the success of your last movie.

You turned around to face him, giving him a light smile, “Now is not the time to talk about that, don’t you think?”

Sighing, he returned your small smile, “Let me talk to you after this whole thing is over, okay? I’ll take you out to dinner.”

“They literally have a menu with five courses planned for tonight, you think we’ll still be hungry after that?”, you countered, making him laugh.

“Then let me invite you to a nice glass of champagne or two, alright?”, he asked so softly, looking straight into your eyes, making you feel weak, “Or we can just relax together, just you and me.”

“Only if you win tonight.”, you said teasing, “You gotta earn it.”

Laughing, he nodded, “Good thing they already told me that I'll win.”

Before you could leave you saw him fiddling around with the seating plan, making you wonder what in the world he was up to now, “What are you doing? You’ll get in trouble if they see you messing up their plan.”

Grinning, he ripped off the name tag beside your seat and put his next to yours instead, “Thought I should fix this. I gotta go, see you later.”

“You’re the worst, Jackson Wang.”, you said, clearly amused as he walked away from you.

Turning around once again, he looked at you, no smile on his face now but instead, his expression was filled with something even prettier - admiration.

“You look beautiful tonight, (y/n).”

Looking into the eyes of the man opposite of you, you let out a sigh, feeling almost vulnerable because you felt your feelings taking over, “So do you.”, you said with a quiet voice before watching him leave.

Tonight, time seemed to pass faster than usual and somehow you felt more relaxed than normally. This might have something to do with the amazing view from your seat, just perfect to watch Jackson accept his award and admire not only his hard work but also the way his suit hugged his muscles so perfectly. You were sure that everyone in the room was just as drawn to his every word as you were.

God, you liked him so much. And just for a second, you thought that maybe it was about time to truly let him in.

As he walked down from the big stage towards you, the camera was still following him, capturing every moment of the hug the two of you shared. You were sure you’d find pictures of this everywhere tomorrow but at that moment you couldn’t care less, that was something future (y/n) could deal with. He hugged you tight, his hand holding the back of your head.

“Congratulations.”, you said to him as you sat down again, “You’re a star.”

Filling up both of your glasses he joked, “And still I can’t have the girl I like. Man, I thought this whole being famous and getting the girls thing would be easier.”

Scoffing, you shook your head, “You’re being bold.”

“Well, you won’t listen to me otherwise so I don’t have much of a choice.”, he said as he handed you over your glass, clinking it with his, “Let’s get out of here, okay?”

“It’s way too early, it would be rude to leave already.”, you pouted, “and I saw that they have this amazing looking pudding, I don’t wanna miss it.”

Jackson’s hand found your thigh sneakily, “I couldn’t care less about being rude. and I'll buy you pudding.”

When you didn’t answer, he decided to be brave and to take your hand in front of everyone to see, knowing the risk of a camera catching it, “I want to spend time with you alone.”

How could you say no to those eyes, looking right into yours while he held your hand so sweetly?

“So, where are we going, Wang?”, you simply said, making his eyes light up as he stood up, still not letting go of your hand.

Only a few minutes later you found yourself in front of a hotel room, assumingly Jackson’s.

“Wow, what exactly do you think is happening tonight?”, you joked as he was opening the door to the big hotel room.

“I look like the biggest fuckboy right now but I promise I have no bad intentions.”, he let out one of his lighthearted laughs, making you chuckle immediately.

As the two of you walked in he immediately got two glasses and a bottle of whiskey out of the minibar. Deep inside you knew it was never a good idea to get drunk while being with Jackson, it just would make you want him more, especially in such a dangerous environment like his hotel room but tonight you for once didn’t want to care, you just wanted to stop worrying about everything and have a nice time with a man who you genuinely cared for. But at the end of the day, you were still you, not able to second guess everything.

It seemed perfect: Just the two of you, alcohol, a comfortable king-size bed, he even lit some candles for you.

“Jackson.”, you started, trying to be serious but before you could say anything he immediately stopped you, knowing exactly what you wanted to address.

“I don’t wanna hear it.”, he said softly, sitting down beside you on his bed. The candles made his skin look even more glowing and you wanted to drown in his face.

“Hear what? You don’t even know what I wanted to say.”, you insisted, crossing your legs on the bed and turning your body towards him so you could see him better.

“Of course I do.”, he scoffed but his voice was still sweet like honey, “I don’t wanna hear about all the reasons why we can’t do that today. No busy schedules, no mature behavior, no negative things.”

Nodding, you just looked at him, waiting for him to say something else. You could listen to him talk about the two of you all day, hanging onto his every word.

“I said it before and I'll say it again (y/n), I think we should be more than friends.”, his hand found yours again and a sudden heat was rushing over your whole body.

“I think so too.”, you almost blurted out, not thinking about any aftermath for a second.

“You do?”, Jackson asked, almost not believing you until you nodded again and his heart felt like bursting.

“I do. I don’t have the energy to act like I don’t anymore.”, you admitted, not able to take your eyes off of him.

Before you could say anything else you felt Jackson's hand holding your neck and pulling you close. Within a split second, he managed to make you feel all of the most joyful feelings in the world all at once. His lips found yours, pressing against them with such a passion and almost needy, his other hand wrapped around your waist as he was pulling you onto his lap, not caring about anything else than to hold you as close as possible. The room smelled like candles and his cologne and as if that wasn’t enough to drive you crazy, the way his chest felt against yours and the way his muscular thighs felt underneath you were almost too much for you to comprehend.

After a few seconds, he forced himself to separate his lips from yours, looking deeply into your eyes with his forehead against yours, not only trying to catch his breath but also searching for words for what he was feeling.

“I can’t believe I haven’t tried this sooner.”, the man underneath you said while slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb, his hand in your hair.

“We have a lot to catch up.”, you laughed as he once again pulled you closer to him, his lips attached to your neck now.

Leaving small pecks all over your neck, he let out a breathy laugh, “I won’t let you leave.”

“Good thing I was planning to stay anyways.”, you said, softly gripping his hair.

“I meant in general though.”, he said while still placing small pecks on your neck, now slowly moving down, “Not only tonight.”

“So did I.”, you reassured him, feeling more than excited about the next part of your relationship, wondering why you let busy schedules and overthinking keep you away from him for such a long time.

[leiaevans]

leia’s decision to audition for the summer musical had been a completely last minute choice that left her scrambling to put together her game plan. she practically had two days to pick a song, memorize a monologue, and practice for pieces in both her and joey’s. normally she felt like she worked well under pressure, more motivated even, but it would be a lie if she said she didn’t feel the pressure surrounding her. could she actually do this?

when leia had first heard the announcement that this year’s summer musical was going to be mamma mia, auditioning hardly crossed her mind. sure, she had been a part of the new directions and the cheerios for all four years of her high school career, but the one of mckinley’s musicals were one of the things she had never been crossed off her list. it wasn’t that she hadn’t been interested in the musicals, in fact it was rare to find someone in an arts school who didn’t want to be involved in some way or another, but leia had always found an excuse or a way to talk herself out of it. from her inexperience to her busy extra-curricular schedule, she had practically burnt out every excuse in the book for herself which made it that much harder to say no when both joey and drew continually encouraged her.

at first, leia had told herself she would help with joey’s dance and nothing more. that way she was helping out her friend while still getting a little taste of the auditions. a dance she could do, she had learned plenty of dances and routines for the cheerios, how was this any different? but after not being able to get the musical off her mind and talking things through with both joey and drew, their encouragement for her to try it out giving her the small boost she needed, she finally decided two days before the last audition day that she would follow their advice. she already was going to be there to help joey out, why not give it a shot? it wasn’t like it was one of the bigger productions the school put on, it was simply their summer fundraiser. or at least that’s what she told herself to get her past the school’s glass double doors.

walking into the school building, the gust of cold air circulating the building hit leia unexpectedly, a small smile on her face. she hadn’t thought she’d be walking these halls again so soon, but as she walked down the fluorescent lit halls to the finn hudson auditorium, she couldn’t say it wasn’t nice to be reminded of the good memories she had in this place. and in a way, she was still adding to that list, even if she didn’t make it into a huge role. feeling herself starting to become more and more distracted as she went, leia had to force herself to reel in her focus on one thing at a time, her first obstacle to pass being joey’s audition dance number. she wanted to do well in this dance number because she knew this was part of joey’s audition, but in a way this was part of her own audition too. she was trying her best not to let her thoughts roam past this first task of the day, knowing if she thought too much about it she would start to psych herself out, so instead she gave herself little to no room to think about anything except running the dance steps in through her mind once more while rushing her way to side stage where she was meant to wait for joey’s cue. 

when joey stepped over and grabbed her hand, she felt like she was right back on the side of the field during a football game as her smile went on and she was swept away into the music. by the time the pair had finished and leia was walking off the stage once more, not only did she feel good about how it went, but she had fun. after all the practice they had done in preparation, the steps were easy to keep up with and she was able to just enjoy the music and the dance without any stress clouding her every thought. in fact, recreating the waterloo scene almost made her begin to feel excited to be doing not just mamma mia, but the musical in general. as she made her way back to outside of the auditorium to sit in wait for her own audition, not wanting to listen to the other auditions and psych herself out, she truly let herself get lost in her thoughts. after all that had been happening around her, from school ending to the ongoing distance between her and theo, she was ready for a distraction. for something to get her out of the house for more than just a day. maybe it wasn’t trip to the coast to some beach or a summer road trip, but this could be the event that really does make her summer the special ‘last’ summer before college is in full swing. she had a good feeling about this summer. that is, until she heard her name being called, the weight of her nerves finally hitting her as she shakily stood.

truthfully, it all boiled down to leia’s lack of confidence in herself. she had never been one to be insanely conceited or self-assured in her skills. she knew she wasn’t the worst performer in any sense, but if anyone asked she would be the one to humbly say she was ‘decent’ or ‘alright’ and truly believe that. it was a fault she had always had, despite her parent’s unwavering support and reassurance that she was just overthinking. she had just always had the fear that she would get up to the stage and completely bomb her audition, or even worse, get a decent part and let everyone down because she couldn’t memorize her lines or keep up with the numerous dance numbers required. but if there was one thing she had learned from her previous talk with julien, it was that she couldn’t let these worries and insecurities prevent her from performing her absolute best. she needed to be present in the moment instead of dwelling on the ifs, ands, or buts. as long as she believed she had put her all into it and she did all that she could, she couldn’t be disappointed in herself. 

with one last deep breath and reassurance muttered to herself, leia pushed open the door and stepped into the auditorium. despite her quickened heartbeat and nerves feeling like pinpricks covering her skin, she kept her head high and her thoughts positive as she made her way to center stage, a smile spread across her lips. “hello everyone, i’m leia evans and i’ll be singing requiem from dear evan hansen.” she spoke out, her usual bubbliness was still there but between wanting to remain professional and her nerves, it was dialed back in comparison. “oh, and uh, i would be happy with any role you see fit for me,” she finished with another smile sent to the directors and a nod towards the pianist. leia waited with closed eyes, feeling herself shift her weight from foot to foot as she was unable to stay still. she knew this song was one she practically knew by heart, being one of her favorite musical soundtracks throughout the years, and she had practiced it nonstop over the past couple of days, she just had to simply begin. all she could do now was her best, so that’s what she did.

as the music began to play, leia finally opened her eyes as she began the first line of “why should i play this game of pretend?” she hadn’t necessarily picked this song for the relation to mamma mia like she maybe should have, but leia had always thought the music in dear evan hansen was beautiful, even if the message wasn’t. she also thought this would be one of her best bets to show off her vocals and emotional range to a certain degree, seeing as she had no real experience in acting but had learned how to show the emotion behind a song. while she personally had no situation she could compare to that the musical portrayed, with such an emotional ballad she felt like she could dip into situations of her own to portray that sense of emotion. leia had always been one to bottle up emotions, especially when her parents went through their divorce. while it wasn’t a death or a true loss, she had felt like it was the loss of her family. all of the pieces of the loving family were still there, but they didn’t fit together anymore. she had always tried to play off her feelings, wanting to be strong so that her parents weren’t having to worry over her at the same time, but truthfully it affected her, more than she’d liked to have admitted. 

before she knew it, she was finishing out the song with the final “i will sing no requiem tonight”, practically on the verge of tears herself, just thankful that her voice hadn’t cracked during the last verse. giving herself just a moment of pause to catch her breath and return to the present, leia then quickly moved on to the monologue portion of the audition. while both the song and dance seemed to take no time at all, the performance of the scene she had chosen went by even quicker if at all possible. when she had fully completed the audition, she moved to thank the directors for their time before quickly moving off stage and out of the building. it wasn’t a broadway level performance in any sense, having stumbled over a word or two during her monologue, but overall leia could easily say she felt relieved. despite the over thinking and the nervous haze that had seemed to follow her there, she actually felt good, confident in what she had done, and that’s all she have asked for.

[purplesurveys]

787

Stage one: Emotions. How often do you take actions you regret? Not super often, but it’ll come up once in a while.

Do you often feel guilty? As someone who was raised in a verbally abusive household and was always blamed, corrected, or shamed for not knowing any better, you bet your ass I feel guilty all the time. ‘Sorry’ is probably in my top 50 most used words haha. Do you have a short temper? A little bit, yeah. I got my mom’s impatience for most situations and I’m also a bit of a perfectionist, so if I’m in work mode and I see that something’s askew I’ll be fussy about it until it’s fixed.

When was the last time you lashed out at someone? This afternoon when I was feeling super stressed and was venting to Gabie, but I had the vibe that she wasn’t all ears. And why was that? Because I would assume anyone would feel shitty when they’re ranting to someone they trust and that person acts like they aren’t listening?

Does it always seem like the entire world is out to get you? I have weeks like this, but it’s not constant. Overall, I think the world is mostly decent with me. Have you ever had a serious mental break down? Yeup, tons. What led up to this? (sadness, depression, fury, confusion, etc) I’m not getting into them lmao? Do you believe it is just natural for humans to feel lonely? Of course. Everyone goes through their own battles that makes them feel this way, and sometimes the physical presence of other people or having a packed schedule wouldn’t be enough either. Do you ever feel lonely, even in the presence of those you know or love? Yeah, that’s what I was just trying to say in the last question. There’ve been a few times I wasn’t feeling my best, and I thought going to Skywalk was going to fix stuff but it didn’t. Do you believe that these are the "best years of your life"? High school and college were, but I'm expecting to stumble a bit in the next few years as I try to navigate adulthood and make the best of my 20s. I think it’s normal though as I know most people feel the same when they’re in their mid-20s, so I’ve come to terms with the fact that it might not be the best years for a while. Or do you follow the "the best is yet to come" philosophy? Yeah, but I also don’t just depend on the future to be great. I’m able to realize when there’s good things happening in the present too. Does it sometimes feel like your life is being wasted or not going anywhere? Occasionally. Nothing good comes out of those thoughts though, so I never entertain them. Tell me about the last time you were truly, truly happy. Sometime in January. I drove my girlfriend to her place and there was no one home, so we used that time to catch up and talk and watch Titanic haha. Being it was the beginning of the sem, I still didn’t have any class requirements or org deliverables so it was really just an evening to spend time with her. I love moments like those the most because it’s when I’m reminded how much I love having her around. Stage two: Relationships. How long was your longest relationship? My current one, which is running at four years. Though we’ve been linked together for much longer than that, so whenever I wanna impress people a little bit more I also sometimes say six years hahahaha How old were you when you had your first boyfriend or girlfriend? I was 16. Do you (or have you ever) had feelings for the SAME sex? Yes, that’s my situation right now. Do you consider yourself gay or bisexual? How strongly do you feel about it? For a while I thought I was bi because I liked Gab and had small crushes on some guys we were friends with in high school. It was also because everyone in school who also liked girls considered themselves bi, so me thinking I was bi was mostly an environment thing and I just thought I was one of them as well, because it was all I heard about. Through the years other orientations were given awareness, and eventually I found that demisexuality is most fitting for me. Have you ever had your heart broken? Many times in a lot of ways. Did you ever honestly believe you were going to marry your high school bf/gf? I mean, I still think that until now. Is it harder to get dumped or do the dumping? I’ve only been on one side of this so I wouldn’t know how to compare. Have you been able to stay good friends with any of your exes? Yes, but it took a while before we could mend our friendship. We couldn’t talk to each other for a couple of months but we patched things up after realizing our friendship was too important to throw away just because of a breakup. If so, is there any tension (sexual or not) between the two of you? There was, after a short while lol. Hence us getting back together anyway. Would you ever date someone that your friend liked or HAD dated? I wouldn’t do that. When was the last time you were kissed? First week of March. Are you a virgin? Do you believe virginity is "sacred"? No and no. How many times have you been in love? Was it always real? Once and yes. Stage three: Friendships. Would you say that you have a lot of friends? Yep. I’m really glad I’ve met a lot of progress when it comes to this. All I wanted in Grade 6 was one friend and now I have more friends than I ever imagined having, so it feels pretty awesome. Have you ever been considered to be a "loner"? Yeah, throughout elementary and some parts of high school. People would only talk to you if you shared the same interests, and back then I couldn’t find anyone who was like me. It made it hard to talk to anyone period because everyone already had their own set of friends. How often do you hang out with your friends? I obviously can’t now, but before the lockdown I would hang out with at least one friend a day. There’s always at least one person at our org lounge so it was easy to find someone to study with, get street food with, have lunch with, etc. Do you have a specific hang out or house that you go to? Yeah, the org lounge that we call Skywalk. It’s habit for anyone in the org to just drop by there when we have free time, or if we wanna hang out together. If my orgmates and I don’t feel like being at Skywalk, we go to a nearby bar called Tomato Kick. I have another friend group that includes Angela, and for that bunch we typically go to another local bar in the area for cocktails and shisha. Have you ever done anything illegal to help a friend? Other than giving them movie files I’ve pirated...no not really lol If not, would you be willing to? What would be your limit? Eh, I don’t like breaking the rules so I probably wouldn’t go all that far to begin with. Who is your best friend? VERY best. Choose. Angela. Have any of your friends ever stabbed you in the back? Yes, but they’re not my friends anymore. Did you forgive them? Are you still friends? No and no. Are your friends the only people that "get you"? I don’t think so. I’ve become pretty flexible through the years and can mostly adjust depending on who I’m with. Do you think your friends know you better than your own parents? They absolutely do. Have you ever lost a close friend because they died? I didn’t count Nacho as a close friend (cause I’m super particular about that title lol), but he was my friend all the same. Have you ever lost a friend because they gained a bf/gf and dropped you? No, this hasn’t happened. Are your friends your support system? =] Yes. Stage four: Family Life Are both your parents alive? They are. Were you raised by your biological parents? Technically I was raised by my grandma for most of my childhood haha, but yeah both my parents were present. Has your family ever been broken? I have an aunt (dad’s sister) who has had a couple unsuccessful relationships, but nothing in my immediate family. Do you think your parents respect your space? My dad does, which I hugely appreciate. My mom doesn’t know the basic rules of privacy and has never even learned how to knock. She just barges in, which puts me in a sour mood literally every single time she does it. Are you close with you siblings, if you have any? I’m a little close with my sister, like we crack jokes together and never fight and stuff, but not emotionally close. For instance I wasn’t able to physically comfort her when her cat died, but I made sure to flood her Messenger with messages to let her know I cared. I don’t have any relationship with my brother whatsoever. How often does your family fight or have big arguments? We don’t normally fight as a family. It’s mostly me and my mom who butt heads. Does your family hold very high religious beliefs? My mom does... we’re just forced to go along with it because she’s a bit of a brat and if we don’t do things her way, she’ll slam doors and bump against us on purpose, petty shit like that to let her know she isn’t happy. Are you the "black sheep" of your household? I used to be. I was a handful to deal with and there was just a lot of angst inside of me; and I attribute that to the abuse I got from my mom early on, which I’ve never gotten a resolution or closure to. Throughout my teen years she was able to twist the story and surface as the wonderful mother while I was the troubled teen that would never amount to anything, so it definitely looked like I was the black sheep. Thankfully I rose above it as I got older. Have you ever in anger told your parent(s) that you hated them? No. How often are you diciplined or punished or grounded? This has only happened a handful of times. Grounding isn’t common here and as mean as my mom was, she liked sticking to verbal abuse than punishment. The worst thing my parents did was take my gadgets and that only happened like twice. Do you feel like you are allowed to express yourself inside your own home? No. I have a whole-ass four-year relationship my parents have no clue about. Are your parents very controlling of the person "they want you to be"? Nope, they give me freedom which I give them credit for. They never told me what course they wanted me to take in college, what career they want for me, none of that stuff. Your family really does love each other, doesn't it? I guess. It could always be a little more, though. Are you planning to move away when you turn 18? I’m 22 now and I’m still here, so.

[pivitor]

My Top 10 Albums of 2019

2019 will go down, for me, as the year my beloved iPod died, and I finally bit the bullet and signed up for Spotify Premium. Thus, I listened to more new music in 2019 than I ever have before, and realized how much of it I found disposable. Bands I grew up loving put out mediocre efforts, new darlings grew in directions I wasn’t interested in following, but thank god, thank god there are still plenty of terrific musicians putting out work that resonates deep within my soul. Music is subjective, so I wouldn’t dare call this a “best of” list, but below are the ten new releases of 2019 that I listened to the most, vibed with the most, that just plain ol’ meant the most to me this year.

(PS: Don’t think too much about the exact order and ranking here. It changed multiple times even as I was writing this. What really matters is that all ten of these records rule)

10. Radar State -- Strays

Radar State are the Avengers of the early 2000s mid-west emo scene -- a band combining The Get Up Kids’ Matt Pryor and Jim Suptic, The Anniversary’s Josh Berwanger, and The Architects’ Adam Phillips into a single supergroup. Pryor has described the project as “just having fun with [his] friends,” and that dynamic shines through loud and clear in Strays. It’s like each member is pushing the next to just create the catchiest song they possibly can, and the competition leads to great results; Pryor favors fast and sloppy punk and Berwanger moody earworms that fuse themselves into your brain through sheer repetition, but it’s Suptic who fulfills that edict best with his shiny, addictive pop love songs. Radar State never quite hits the emotional highs of its members’ main projects, but that was never the point in the first place; Strays is just fun from front to back, and it’s an album I’ve returned to consistently throughout the entirety of 2019.

Highlights: Making Me Feel, Self-Hurt Guru, Artificial Love

9. The Early November -- Lilac

Lilac is an album about learning from your mistakes and making a conscious choice to be better, and it’s a theme, an ethos that truly defines this release on every level. The Early November originally planned to release Lilac back in 2018, but ended up scrapping the original recording and going back to the drawing board, knowing that they could do better, and funneling that ambition, all their lessons learned, into their most ambitious release outside of The Mother, The Maker, and the Path (“but less self-indulgent,” I say with love). Horns, piano, and a wide variety of tempos spice up the proceedings, and the lyrics are more raw and honest than ever, but Lilac’s greatest weapon is the vocals, which Ace Enders wields with virtuoso skill. He plays with different cadences and deliveries, giving every song a unique feel, moving from soft and pleasant (“Perfect Sphere [Bubble]”) to menacing (“My Weakness”), from the joy of “Ave Maria” to the cathartic, powerhouse vocal explosion of “Hit By A Car (Euphoria)” to the pure, crackling, barely contained emotional breakdown threatening to burst right out of the chorus of “Our Choice.” There’s no other vocalist out there quite like Ace Enders -- and no other record quite like Lilac.

Highlights: Hit By A Car (In Euphoria), Ave Maria, Comatose

8. Magazine Beach -- Sick Day (EP)

Most year-end lists probably overlooked this record, a debut four-song EP from a small DIY band released in mid-December, and man oh man are those critics missing out. Sick Day isn’t just the biggest and best musical surprise I received all year, but quite possibly the most fun I had listening to music in 2019. Seriously, I played this on loop probably two dozen times the day I discovered it, and spent that evening forcing friends to listen to it too. Magazine Beach’s tongue-in-cheek lyrics, gonzo riffs, and stunning background harmonies are combined with vocals whose flatter, sardonic tone initially masks, but soon reveals their perfect cadence and quick crackles of emotion; they’re as close to a perfect pop-punk package as I heard all year, with their quirky, relatable songs about flaky friends, overstuffed social calendars, and other mid-twenties challenges filling that gaping Modern-Baseball-You’re-Gonna-Miss-It-All-shaped hole in my heart. If this had released earlier in the year, and I’d had more time to see how long it truly stuck with me, it might have placed far, far higher on this list, but either way I look forward to carrying this album forward with me into 2020, and I look forward to following Magazine Beach’s future career closely. I think they could go places.

Highlight: Living Room

7. Masked Intruder -- III

It’s easy to look at Masked Intruder and think that they’re more of an act than a band, just because they’re so good at playing hardened-yet-harmless criminals on stage, at enchanting an audience with their antics and banter alone. Thankfully, they’re equally skilled as musicians as they are performers; III isn’t just quick content for their live shows, but an entertaining, addictive, artfully made pop-punk record in its own right. Okay, maybe pop-punk is a bit too restrictive a descripter -- between the doo-wop, call-and-response harmonies and the raging riffs and solos, III sometimes sounds like a modern spin on sixties rock and roll, which is something I did not know I needed but absolutely needed. The lyrics never break kayfabe, but there’s some real clever stuff going on beneath the surface of these silly crime-themed love songs; contrasting the creepiness of Blue’s romantic pursuits with the shenanigans of a typical radio love song shows how few differences there actually are between the two, how creepy the entire genre is when you stop to give it any thought. It’s thoughtful and subversive without ever being preachy, just one more spinning plate kept perfectly balanced in the act that is III.

Highlights: Not Fair, Maybe Even, I’m Free (At Last)

6. Martha -- Love Keeps Kicking

Martha’s secret weapon is the empathy and compassion their songs cultivate for their subjects. Love Keeps Kicking is an album largely about the way love can kick you when you’re down, yet throughout the album Martha never villainizes even the bad actors in relationships. “Into This” finds the narrator jerked around by a potential partner who just won’t clarify what they are to each other, but the song isn’t out to attack the partner, simply to get a solid answer. Likewise, “Love Keeps Kicking” lays out a myriad of detailed complaints about romance and relationships, not to insult, but simply to find a way to endure them. “Orange Juice” rues the way the narrator diluted their partner just by being with them, showing impressive (and heartbreaking) levels of self-awareness. That kind of emotional maturity and complexity makes the true love songs (“Sight For Sore Eyes,” “Wrestlemania VIII”) all the more joyous, and makes their social commentary (“Mini Was A Preteen Arsonist”) that much more effective. Martha are a wonderfully catchy, fun band filled with great harmonies and British twang, but it’s their earnest, compassionate storytelling that truly made me fall in love with them, and with Love Keeps Kicking.

Highlights: Wrestlemania VIII, Love Keeps Kicking, Orange Juice

5. Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties -- Routine Maintenance

Hot take (?) incoming: Dan Campbell is the best songwriter of our generation. I already sang his praises pretty thoroughly last year when discussing my favorite album of 2018, but Routine Maintenance is just further proof of this truth, almost Campbell flexing. The previous Aaron West record was a character study of the worst year of a man’s life, but Routine Maintenance expands Aaron’s world in terms of scope, characters, and themes, all to the project’s (and character’s) benefit. The record is a tale of redemption, taking Aaron from rock bottom to a new place of security, all through the power of friendship and community, the power of music, and the power of family, of fulfilling your responsibilities to them, of finding your role and your home wherever you are, with the people who care about you, with people you can make proud. They’re themes Campbell has been exploring throughout his entire career, but brought down to a more personal level, and somehow that makes them hit harder than ever, perhaps because it makes the way they can fit into any listener’s life that much clearer. I’ve cried listening to this album. I’ve cried hearing these songs live. There’s true, true catharsis on Routine Maintenance, and it’s because Campbell’s taken Aaron West on a real journey, and it’s one I feel blessed to have been able to follow.

Highlights: Runnin’ Toward the Light, Rosa & Reseda, Winter Coats

4. Pkew Pkew Pkew -- Optimal Lifestyles

Pkew Pkew Pkew’s 2016 self-titled debut was an album told solely in the present tense, not worried about the future, but simply about the drinks, pizza, skateboarding, and parties to be had right here, right now. It was a blisteringly fun, gang-vocals filled powerhouse of a record that solidified Pkew Pkew Pkew as one of my new favorite bands. Optimal Lifestyles, though, is an album that has started to look back, if only to question the present. Are they still content to be these same fun-loving, hard-drinking party guys? Ultimately, as proven by lyrics such as “Shred until you’re dead, or until you break your wrist again” and “We lead thirsty little lives, and all we want’s another,” the answer they come to is a resounding “yes,” but the journey they take to find that answer not only makes it feel earned, but opens Pkew Pkew Pkew to some exciting new songwriting avenues, be it the touching introspection of “Drinkin’ Days” or the surprisingly beautiful nostalgia of “Everything’s the Same” (or even the more raucous nostalgia of “Mt. Alb,” for that matter). Don’t let words like “introspection” and “beautiful” scare you, though -- The Boys still rock as hard as ever, as the wailing, chugging guitars and even a totally rockin’ saxophone solo fully attest to (though I do miss all the gang vocals). And I’d be remiss to not mention “I Wanna See A Wolf,” an absolute songwriting clinic. In only a minute and nineteen seconds, Pkew Pkew Pkew takes a simple statement -- “I wanna see a wolf” -- and unravels it until it reveals a song about longing for freedom from the careers that cage our lives, even when they’re our dream. I don’t know if Pkew Pkew Pkew could have written this song three years ago. Talk about growth.

Highlights: I Wanna See A Wolf, Point Break, Adult Party

3. The Get Up Kids -- Problems

After their most popular record -- 1999’s Something To Write Home About -- the Get Up Kids’ next three albums all went on to be incredibly divisive among their fans. While all three records showed significant creative growth, none really sounded like what came before (personally, I very much enjoyed two of those records -- sorry, There Are Rules -- but I guess I’m not most fans). Problems, though, sounds like the natural evolution of Something To Write Home About without ever feeling derivative of it -- it sounds more like “the Get Up Kids” than anything the Get Up Kids have released in over a decade, which is an incredibly exciting thing let me tell you. Yet, Problems still benefits from everything the band has learned in that time: there’s new introspection (“The Problem Is Me”), a wider storytelling scope (“Lou Barlow”), and a shift from wallowing in their own pain to examining the pain of others (“Satellite,” which Matt Pryor has said is based on one of his sons). Problems also manages to pack in absolute bangers like “Fairweather Friends,” sensitive, tender ballads like “The Advocate,” and mid-tempo jams like “Salina,” a guaranteed future Emo classic that threatens to dethrone the Kids’ own “Central Standard Time” as The Quintessential Emo Song. Problems is the synthesis of just about everything that has ever made the Get Up Kids special, and it not only makes for one of the year’s best albums, but one of the Get Up Kids’ best as well.

Highlights: Fairweather Friends, Lou Barlow, Salina

2. PUP -- Morbid Stuff

The A-Side of Morbid Stuff is perfect -- a legitimately flawless five song stretch of punk rock that continues to blow my mind almost ten months after its release. The unmistakable opening notes of “Morbid Stuff”; that irresistible background riff from the bridge returning in “Kids’” second chorus, combined with some of the most nihilisticly romantic lyrics I’ve ever heard; the raucous sing-along that is “Free At Last”; the purest, most undiluted diss-track of the year in “See You At Your Funeral”; and, finally, the best song of the year bar none, “Scorpion Hill,” a sonic journey through multiple musical genres, telling a story of uniquely American misery that legitimately moves me to tears. The B-Side doesn’t quite live up to these first five tracks -- there’s a couple stand-outs (“Bare Hands” needs to make it into a live set pronto), a couple songs more interesting in concept than execution (sorry, “Full Blown Meltdown”), and a few more perfectly fine, standard PUP tunes (and I swear I don’t mean that as an insult!) -- but, well, how could it ever really have anyway? All together, it still makes for an outrageously enjoyable album that reaches the upper echelons of what 2019’s new music had to offer. That PUP was not only such a terrific band right out of the gate, but has remained so this far into their career, makes me so, so happy.

Highlights: Scorpion Hill, Kids, Free At Last

1. The Menzingers -- Hello Exile

It took me a few listens -- and, truthfully, seeing it played live -- to truly crack this album. At first it was a bit too slow, the vocals a bit too filtered, but once it clicked, I lived and breathed Hello Exile and nothing else for months. The slightly slower pace gives the Menzingers a chance to play around with some new musical tricks, be it the back-and-forth opening or the fun background guitar melodies of “Strangers Forever” or the almost hypnotic vocal melodies in the choruses of “Portland” or “Hello Exile,” and they pay off with great effect. Lyrically the Menzingers are at the top of their game; tracks like “High School Friend” and “Strain Your Memory” are more adept than ever at painting stories that make you nostalgic for a life you never even lived, but absolutely feel like you have, and lines like “it only hurts til’ it doesn’t” hit your heart with sniper-like precision. “Anna” may be the quintessential Menzingers song, a tale of longing, love, and location that drove the entire scene into a frenzy that still hasn’t subsided. “Farewell Youth” is the best closing track the Menzingers have ever released, a song about grief in multiple forms that manages to find poignant takes on each and every one of them. I’m not yet sure whether Hello Exile is the beginning or the end of a chapter for the Menzingers, but either way, it’s clearly an essential and unmissable part of their story, and one I feel privileged to be able to experience.

Highlights: Anna, Strangers Forever, Farewell Youth

[racingtoaredlight]

Marshall Amps

This is Slayer’s backdrop for some recent tour of theirs.

If you’ve followed rock music at all, the “wall of Marshalls” is so iconic, it’s hard to separate the subject of the imagery from the backdrop of Marshall speakers.  Jimmy Page, Slash, Zakk Wylde, Eric Clapton...to name a few...but the man who made Marshalls the “greatest amps of all time” is none other than you know who...

So what is it with Marshalls?  Why did they become the “greatest amps of all time” yet seemingly don’t have a place in today’s guitar world?

***

What defines Marshall amps?

They have “Marshall” written on them.

Kidding aside, you will never hear about Marshall amps being called “versatile.”  “Clean” is something they do out of necessity, not design.  They are stupidly heavy.  They are a pain in the ass to maintain.  They only sound good at volumes that would peel the enamel off your teeth...and that’s just the 50w models, let alone the big boys.

Marshall amps really do one thing well...overdrive.  If you’re in a band that plays loud, plays dirty and plays aggressive, then Marshalls are likely right in your wheelhouse.  Bonus points if someone else is carrying your gear.

Any level of dirt...from bluesy hair on the note to full out metal grind...a Marshall is right at home.  When you overdrive the tubes in a Marshall and they start to produce those beautiful overtones and harmonics, it’s truly a sound of beauty that prickles the hair on the back of your neck.

***

Historical Context Part 1

To define Marshall amps, we need to start with their history.

Remember how when I used to actually write, I’d talk about putting things in historical context?  Lets go back to the early 60′s.  There is ONE amp company doing business on both sides of the Atlantic, Fender.  And, despite being primitive and archaic, those early Tweed Fender amps are still today some of the best sounding amps money can buy, which is even more impressive considering that a 10 year old who can use a soldering iron could build one.

But in America, it’s easy to source parts for an American company’s amp like Fender.  It’s right there in the country, stupid.  But for a company...shit, that’s not even accurate given they weren’t a company yet...for a Brit like Jim Marshall, you had to get creative.

Marshalls, at their very, foundational core, are almost a direct plagiarism of the Fender Bassman amp.  I mean, it’s exactly the same amplifier except for one key difference...the tubes.  The Atlantic Ocean thing mentioned earlier is a big deal...the 6v6 and 6L6 power tubes that Leo Fender used, nothing more than run of the mill military-spec electrical tubes, weren’t available.  Tubes might not be the lifeblood of an amp (the circuit is), but different tubes have a hugely variable presence in practical settings.

Given that most tube amps are powered by tubes that came from either the US, UK or Russian military industrial complexes...and there not being the internet or a secondary market for any of this shit...Marshall used, first, KT66 Russian tubes, and later British EL34 (big bottles) and EL84 (little bottles), depending on use.

As Marshall’s blew up (and it happened quickly), and musicians started playing bigger and bigger halls, Marshall took that Bassman ripoff and housed it in larger cabinets allowing him to add more tubes, and therefore, more power.  It was the perfect storm...

***

Historical Context Part II...the important stuff

So I linked to a bunch of pics above...famous dudes standing in front of walls of Marshalls.  The one I really want to hit on is the Eric Clapton one...

I just mentioned this a couple paragraphs above, but it bears repeating...there was no secondary market for things like tubes, caps, speakers, etc.  That pic of Clapton?  In each of those cabinets housing four speakers, maybe one was fully operational with half of another adding a bunch of fizz.  During Cream’s final show at Royal Albert Hall, he had only one speaker installed in the entire cabinet...the rest were just empty.

Now, that’s not to say there wasn’t any sonic benefit from having cabinets project sound waves with four speakers.  Rather, if one went down, at least you could still play.

Which leads us to the important stuff...

Primitive PA systems were not only garbage to begin with, but they were typically operated by burnouts who didn’t have the first clue of how to properly EQ a room.  This was true as late as the mid 80′s.  As shitty as those PA systems were though, guess what?  That’s still how Cream’s sound got shot through Royal Albert Hall.

Given the choice though, guitarists would rather have a slew of speakers doing the work rather than mic’ing up smaller amps.  Even with this option though, there’s a long history of...behind those walls of Marshall speaker cabs...there being a single half stack with just one speaker being mic’d.

Here’s a dirty little secret...Eddie Van Halen has not just endorsed multiple amps from multiple companies, but been heavily involved in the design of a lot of those as well.  BUT, when you hear him in the studio or live, you’re not hearing any of those amps...you’re hearing this.

Despite all the noise and propaganda regarding Van Halen’s wizardry with guitar and amp parts, the sound he’s most famous for and has relied on his entire career is produced by a relatively stock Marshall 1959SLP, known as the Super Lead.  The “Brown Tone” he’s famous for isn’t due to anything special in the amp itself, rather using something called the Variax to run the 100w amp at 90w, thereby making it warmer and more efficient (Marshall’s imported to the US still made to run at 110 volts despite most American outlets being 120 volts...the Variax reduced the electrical load to the amp, while also being an accidental signal buffer, allowing him to use time-based effects like flangers and delays, where running them into the front of a Marshall would cancel out those signals).

Jesus Christ that was a long aside...there was a point here though.

***

What was that point?

When PA systems and quality mic’s and sound guys became the norm, the necessity for stacks of Marshalls really started to go to shit.  Even before the internet boom, the jokes about wannabes hauling Marshall half stacks to tiny bars with no audience were already essentially canon.

I said this above...unless you are a touring artist in a hard rock band with logistical support and no front of house...Marshalls are completely impractical.  We’re not even going to touch on declines in quality (new Marshalls built on PCB have more in common with your phone than a 1987x, even if you buy a “reissue” of a 1987x), questionable marketing and oversaturating their own market...the fact of the matter is extremely simple.  Big iron is obsolete, no matter who makes it.

Marshall themselves know this, and released the “studio” line...which might as well be called the “shit we better make smaller stuff because our sales are getting FUCKED” line.  If you’ve ever had to pack a car full of gear yourself, it takes one gig before you’re looking for smaller, lighter amps.  Those 100w Marshalls?  They sound AMAZING cranked.

But unless you play them cranked, they sound like shit.  Think about it like driving a Ferrari at 25mph all the time...

For regular working musicians like myself, a great sounding tube combo can be found under 50 lbs.  Or I could ditch all that and go with a modeler, go straight into the PA and never need an amp again (PREDICTION...you will not see amplifiers on stage outside of Nashville and niche acts in 10 years).  That’s for a working musician.

For a touring musician, you can save tens of thousands of dollars per year by not having to hire logistical staff.  You might have scoffed at my prediction above...but these days, the majority of guitar sounds you hear are made digitally by a session guitarist sitting either at home or in the control room of a studio.  That 1987x is a digital patch rather than two trips to the car and ringing ears.

Point being...amps are already obsolete.  And if your amp weighs more than 50 lbs. and has more power than say 40w, it’s remarkably obsolete, no matter how cool it is.

***

Competition

I don’t have to tell you that Marshalls’ legacy was formed in the harder forms of rock.  Take one look at those monsters and you can tell they roar.  “Roar” is an interesting concept though...

Marshalls were made before hard rock really existed.  Guitarists almost ubiquitously came from a “clean” learning point, and even what we consider small amounts of dirt like this (and during the instrumental part of Ramblin’ Man) back then were FULL-THROATED.

Personally, that’s my ideal of the Marshall sound.  That Tweedy breakup that puts a shaggy head of hair on each note.  But to just about 90% of the music-enjoying public, this is the sound that immediately comes to mind when you think of Marshalls.

Definitely more dirty than Duane Allman’s version no doubt, but if you really listen to the guitar, the edge is more due to phrasing and Slash’s ballsy attitude than the guitar tone itself.  It’s still something I’d describe as more crunchy than full on distorted.

Which brings us to the clones.  Now, what better product to copy than a style that’s been obsolete for like two decades now!

We talked about Van Halen’s supposedly modded (but really quite stock) Marshall above...well, here comes one of his amp tech buddies Michael Soldano bringing a hot-rodded Marshall to the masses.  Then Bogner follows right behind.

Slash’s tone might not be that distorted, but plenty of metal guys absolutely were, and Marshall JCM’s were their weapon of choice.  But the time the calendar turned to 1990 though, Mesa Boogie’s rectifiers were already kings of the metal scene.  Almost as much as the Telecaster dominates country music, the Mesa Boogie Rectifiers own metal.

What was the common denominator in the competition?  MORE, sure.  More dirt, more quality, blah blah blah.  The biggest reason was Marshall, the company.  Unlike Fender, Marshall never got bought by bigger companies.  While that might keep them more “genuine” you have to realize that this guy was making amps in a tiny drum shop still when he was making stuff for Hendrix and Pete Townshend.

***

While Fender’s soul got twisted in a series of corporate takeovers, what it also eventually received was outside guidance from people with business AND music knowledge.  Fender was always forward thinking, from the day Leo Fender started the company.  Jim Marshall didn’t have that same type of vision.  The idea of a Fender amp being built on PCB is something Leo Fender would have embraced.  But to Marshall, it’s killing the amp’s soul.  Fenders never were BIG IRON...i.e. huge transformers fed by big bottle tubes...they never got into the size game.

To begin with, Marshalls were a stolen design.  That might sound harsh, but it’s not being unfair either.  They were never known for quality, rather known for quirks and unreliability.  They weren’t even that unique of a sound...you can get a very similar sound from a Fender Tweed cranked...you just cant take a Tweed to a huge hall and project the sound.

We can do that today.  Easily.  Like an $80 mic and a mic cable easy.  And now you have a true, pretty much genuine Marshall roar in a 30 lb. package.

Back in the day you couldn’t demand flawless point-to-point wiring, proper voltage and ohm specs, and wide-sweeping EQ bands.  Soldano and Mesa Boogie offered these as stock parts of their offerings at the same price points.  If you were a lead guy, Soldano was your choice...if you were a metal guy, it was Mesa...and in the two niches of the guitar world Marshall absolutely dominated, they were now second class citizens.

Or maybe even worse...new poor.

***

“Marshall” is a descriptor these days.  It’s describing the sound of a tube amp with a good-sized transformer being fed by British tubes, typically EL34′s.

If you want a “Marshall,” Marshall is probably the fourth or fifth company I’d recommend.  There’s a lot of debate about this, but I do not believe amps built on PCB are worth more than $1k...shit, that’s generous because I would not personally buy an amplifier using PCB.

This is the power amp section for a new Marshall JCM.

For all you IT guys out there, you probably know that PCB ain’t exactly the most receptive thing to changes in temperature.  Hey!  I got a great idea!  Lets put power and preamp tubes, that heat the fuck up, straight on some cheap ass PCB with janky copper wiring and automated solders!

Literally the only people who will tell you PCB is fine are people who build amps for a living.  Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t give a shit about making your job easier when you’re still charging me full price and plus some.  The only people saying that there’s no reason to do a point-to-point amp are those who are too lazy to, because there’s a big boutique market for this very thing.

Lets do a real apples to apples comparison here...

The top pic is a restored 1972 Marshall 1987x.  You can buy these used for under $2k...but let’s use $2k...plus $200 restoration (just the guts, who cares about how an amp looks).  We’re at $2,200.  And this electric shit is so simple a vacuum repair shop could do it.

The bottom pic is a brand spakin’ new Marshall 1987x reissue, modeled after...you guessed it...the 1972 Marshall 1987x.  That’s some clean wiring on that particle board!  But...wait...why am I paying MORE for a less desirable model, that took exponentially less work on Marshall’s end?  Why would I subsidize their profit margins for an inferior product with less resale value?

Furthermore...the 1987x is a one-channel, stupid simple amp.  Why do you need PCB to begin with?  I get it for a Soldano or Rectifier that’s multi-channel, with huge sweeping EQ sections, reverb, etc...but this is a plug-n-play.

Marshall...the company...has been doing that to their customer base for decades.  Back in the day, you knew what you were getting...a thunderous machine that likely would fail at some point, necessitating multiple amp purchases.  Literally the instant better, higher quality alternatives hit the market, it ripped into Marshall’s market share.

Today, if I were recommending a Marshall, the first place I’d recommend is George Metropoluos.  Second would be Friedman.  I’m currently deeply in love with a Friedman amp that’s a single-channel, point-to-point 40w amp that’s essentially a Tweed Bassman with EL84′s and a switchable gain stage...adorably named the Dirty Shirley.

***

Conclusion

Despite all that, I have a romantic love of Marshalls that overrides anything to do with quality or practicality.  It’s kind of like my love for the Gibson Les Paul grotesquely compounded...

You might think that I have a negative opinion of Marshalls based on everything I’ve just written.  Not true.  All of that stuff, it’s nothing in comparison to just how fucking incredible these things sound in person.  Again, neither of these instruments are in my wheelhouse, but if you asked me what the platonic ideal sound an electric guitar makes, it’d be a Les Paul through a cranked Marshall 1987x.

And even if you’re not into this kinda shit, trust me you’ve heard more than your fair share of Marshalls in the past.  They’re that great.  So great, it doesn’t matter how shitty they may or may not be.

PS...I wrote this in 3 different sessions, didn’t edit or re-read, and just posted away because something is better than nothing.

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter Eight

Excerpt - He found it were just those little things he was longing for. And it was not at all that crazy; those things he wanted. They were simple things really. Someone to talk to. Someone to come home to. Someone to disappear with. Maybe even, on a good day he pondered, someone to belong to...  Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @etmoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter Eight Airport intermezzo

1. Hell

Charlotte pulled her carry-on luggage around the airport hall while desperately searching for her gateway. Up until now her day had been nothing short of vile or just plain dreadful.

It all started when woke to find she had - albeit slightly - overslept. Upon that awful discovery she’d immediately launched herself into a frenzy to make up for all the time lost, cursing badly and loudly while doing so. You see, she was on a very tight schedule - timewise - today; with first a train and nearly consecutively a plane to catch. Charlotte was expected for a discourse in Geneva. And the fact that she would be flying back home later on that very same day left her with simply no time for this kind of nonsense and no patience to deal with any of it either…

Oh no, this was definitely not the way she had imagined started her day. She did, however, get to count her lucky blessings when her train conveniently got delayed... By that point the adrenaline had nevertheless been rushing through her veins, pushing her nerves to unhealthy high peaks.

When she’d finally made it to the airport, it was only barely past 10.30 but the weather was already well beyond hot. She huffed and puffed, yet felt stubbornly confident she might just about make it to her flight in time.

Her heels clicked along the gatehouse and she inwardly cursed herself for not slipping into a pair of sneakers when she scurried from her house earlier and made a mental note to start packing a pair at every single occasion, no matter how short her stay would be…  

Finally spotting her gate, Charlotte rushed to the queue to board. She’d made it - just barely though - but she’d made it. Desperately catching her breath, she flashed a kind smile to those furrowing their brows at her; the flushed woman panting in line. However she could care less at that point...

But then, Murphy.  Murphy and his stupid law… As if fate just refused to let Charlotte get back at ease, the steward proceeded to announce a 50-minute delay through the speakers and Charlotte spontaneously cursed all deities. Out loud. With passion. Frowns from bystanders turned into aggravation. Oh yes, this particular day was just getting worse and worse. Charlotte muttered terms of annoyance while turning on her heels towards the overpriced airport-bar in search of a refreshment. All that rushing had left her parched and severely frustrated, but right now mostly parched.  

Standing at the bar Charlotte checked her watch while she wondered whether or not it was too early for a glass of chilled wine but ultimately opted against it. The odds weren’t in her favour today, that much was quite clear by now. Tempting fate some more with a glass of alcohol would not be a wise decision.

When the waiter smoothly slid Charlotte her beverage over the perfectly polished counter, he politely refused her to pay for it and kindly informed her, “Compliments du monsieur à l’arrière.” (*)

Charlotte closed her eyes and sighed before unleashing some very unkind words to nobody in particular. God no! Frustrated or not, now she would have to be kind, to look back and smile appreciatively, possibly engage in some small talk (which would be sexist no doubt, seeing the turn her day had been taking so far), while in silence all she would hope for was for her flight to depart sooner rather than later.

(*) compliments of the gentleman in the back.

2. Purgatory

Tom sat stirring a spoon in his coffee while counting down the minutes. He was nervous, anxious, on edge. Luke had snuck away a few minutes earlier, on the account of picking up ‘a little something’ in the tax free shop while they waited on their plane.

Tom placed his elbows on the table in front of him and upon inhaling, rested his head in his hands, his fingers firmly adding pressure on the bridge of his nose. He groaned and sighed. Barely back home and he was already travelling to and fro again. It was what he wanted though, wasn’t it? This particular trip was his idea, no? He couldn’t remember....

Long ago he had made the very conscious decision to fully invest in his professional career; to submerge himself in it, to stroke the iron while it was hot. It was, without doubt, the best decision he’d ever made. Even if it meant his emotional life would have to remain shelved for a while.

He’d started out his path full of good intentions and promises though. And also truly and faithfully in love with his girlfriend at the time, an aspiring actress just like him. It was a perfect match really. She understood the trials and tribulations that came with the acting territory like no other because she lived the exact same life. They were so alike, so in tune. Paradoxically their relationship proved powerless in its crusade against time and geography.

It hurt like hell, there was no denying in that. But very soon Tom felt how the advantages outweighed the disadvantages in that particular stage of his life. Without a lover to take into account it was suddenly very easy to be the first one to arrive on set in the morning and the last one to leave in the evening. No pressure, no guilt. And he made the best out of his situation. When life gives you lemons… right. With a kind word for everyone who crossed his path, no matter their place on the social ladder, he gave every project his all and more. Every time again. It was no surprise, except maybe to himself, that quite soon he became well known for his strong work ethic. And pretty soon he’d secured himself of a breakthrough role along his already golden reputation.

Tom sighed and ran his hand through his curly hair which was longer now. He had made the conscious decision to grow it out, as if he wanted to shed the burden of Hollywood’s clean-shaven and neatly trimmed posterboy-looks in plain sight, for everyone to see. He longed to hold his own reigns again, especially now, when his life had (seemingly overnight) turned into quite the rollercoaster. His hand proceeded to slip over his chin, where it caressed his beard softly, yet another ‘in your face’ to the industry, as he contemplated his fate.

Looking back he could see a very promising career was now slowly coming into bloom, yet it did not warm his heart the way he had expected it to. His professional prosperity thrilled him of course, but it saddened him there was nobody to share it with.

Well, naturally his mother was extremely proud of her son, even his father came around. Tom’s sisters teased him relentlessly when he was nominated for a 'rear of the year' or sortlike award, but also supported him in earnest and with pride. His friends and colleagues were warm, generous and true. And he much enjoyed meeting up with them, just talking over drinks or just laughing over banalities.

But when he would touch down at home, really touch down, after sleeping off the fatigue he found the silence in his house was deafening. It was his house and a beautiful one at that, but it did not feel like a home. To feel like a home he would perhaps have to spend more time in it. Enter Bobby. A soulful companion to Tom’s heart. A soft pitter patter that broke the silence in the house. A four-legged companion that required attention and who had became very good at taking Tom’s preoccupied mind off of things. Tom adored the faithful creature with all his heart, but it wasn't enough somehow. Although Bobby was a truly great listener, when he wasn't hungry. A very patient listener even, particularly after an early morning jog that would leave the poor mutt happy but exhausted. Bobby had the most earnest twinkling eyes, and he did give the best cuddles, but he was a dog. Let's face it.

Remnants of characters portrayed has started to stain Tom’s soul over time, ready to haunt him on the occasional sleepless night. However he would never let it get it to him. Not really. He was adamant about that, but it was getting harder lately and he didn't quite know why.

Maybe it was the fact that reuniting with his friends back home after rounding up a project would, without fault, lead him to the conclusion (again) that their lives had moved on further, while he was still standing still.

It was fairly strange; a lot of emotions had run through Tom professionally. From happiness to grief and from loss to absolute bliss. But in his personal life he had nothing to show for any of it.

It hadn't bothered him before really, but after the umpteenth wedding party, baby celebration and whatnot he felt it would have been nice to have someone to share it all with. The single's table was getting smaller with each and every occasion. And his thirties were making a rash progress.

It's not that he didn't feel successful, because he did. Only… loneliness fell upon him like a heavy blanket these days. Silly really. Here was a man who virtually had (or could have) everything he would wish for to make him happy, and yet…..

He found it were just those little things he was longing for. And it was not at all that crazy; those things he wanted. They were simple things really. Someone to talk to. Someone to come home to. Someone to disappear with. Maybe even, on a good day he pondered, someone to belong to...  

Someone smart but down-to-earth, someone passionate and ambitious but not overly so, someone who was easy on the eye without even trying, someone who appreciated the little things with him, like he would appreciate in her. Someone with a heart of gold...

He rested in his chin in his propped up arm again as he lazily and boredly scanned the area. The business men getting their ristretto-fix, the tourists wandering around curiously, noses up in the air in amazement. A flustered woman rushing to the bar, dressed to the nines but clearly frustrated, in need of a break. Join the club, he huffed.

His eyes remained on her though. Was it a daydream when he thought he saw her? Sitting up straight he studied her silhouette. Her long brown hair had been tied up in a loose braid, her left hand rubbed the back of her neck as she installed herself on a barstool implicating she was stressed and tired. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.

3. Heaven

Tom snorted slightly when he saw her snapping her head back when the waiter pointed into his direction. 2 seconds. Just 2 seconds and Charlotte’s severe and annoyed frown had melted into a broad smile. She curtsied him in good fun.  

Tom’s eyes fell onto her curves as she made her way towards him, drinks and carry-on luggage in tow. A flowing blue dress, matching high heels, sunglasses in her hair. He gestured his appreciation to her clothes. She rolled her eyes but instantly radiated with a dazzling smile.

“Hello there stranger,” her eyes darted over Tom’s suited appearance as he unfolded himself from his chair, “you clean up quite nice yourself.”

“Well, well, well, who do we have here,” he murmured quietly into her ear before greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.

“What on earth brings you here?”

“Well, I could ask you the same thing….”

Charlotte followed his invitation to sit at his table and casually dropped her belongings on the tabletop. A boarding pass held her page in the book she’d been reading, motioning to it she kindly informed him; “Geneva, I got delayed for 50 minutes.”

Tom titled his head to the side to get a proper look at the book instead and smiled when he noticed the author was in fact Paulo Coelho.  

“You finished the Alchemist?” he deducted, “I would ask you if you liked it, but it seems the answer to that question is pretty obvious,”

“Oh don’t get me started… there are no words, I think I fell in love with it,” Charlotte took a gulp of cool water, “honestly, if that book was a tall and handsome dark stranger,…”

Tom chortled, then flashed her his pass, “Mallorca, technical issues.”

When Charlotte scrunched her nose, he was quick to add, “What? Mallorca is nice. Ever been?”

“Technical difficulties,” she winced, “you’d have to drag me on the plane kicking and screaming.”

There, so easy to talk to. She felt like coming home. Familiar. Calming, reassuring.

He laid eyes on her again. It had only been a few weeks since he’d seen her last. But it felt so comfortable and pleasant to sit with her again. It was an enjoyable and very welcome surprise.

When she informed how his downtime was coming along, he humorously confessed he might be suffering from withdrawal.

“It’s strange,” he elaborated, “for the longest of time I’ve actually yearned for this. To be able to slow down. To be the only one in charge of my diary. To reunite with friends, quality time with family.”

Charlotte frowned and expressed her concern that surely he wasn’t tired of his leave already, now was he? Tom cast his eyes to his half-empty coffee cup and sighed. “No, most definitely not. Only, it’s quite confronting.”

“They say you are confronted with yourself while on the road alone?” Charlotte cursed herself as she realised this comment could very well boomerang back into her own face but was all the more glad Tom took no notice of it.

“Which is true; let me tell you that,” he agreed, “but to me, the confrontation back home with friends and family is proving to be a bit harder than I had anticipated.”

She frowned, “how’s that?”

“You see, I’ve made this choice long ago to fully invest in starting up my career. And while I don’t really regret having made that decision, I came to realise that while my career has evolved, I have not. Or maybe I have, but not on my personal level. Am I making sense?”

Charlotte smiled, she understood. Probably more than he could imagine..

“I have a house, I have a car. I have a loving family and friends….”

“You speak of a house, but not a home,” she pondered quietly.

Tom sighed, “I feel as though I’m no more than this... empty vessel. I’m good at playing the scenes and the emotions on a stage but I return to an empty home. There I said it: home. Not house,” a kind wink for her benefit.

Charlotte leant a bit more forward and searched his gaze, “but are you happy Tom?”

Talk about a question you didn’t expect...Tom leaned back, slipping back into his usual guise of apologizing, only able to offer her, “oh no, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful because I do enjoy life in general and my life in particular. But there are times that it starts to get to me.”

“Like today,” she finished his sentence, lifting a critical brow.

“Like today,” he nodded.

Charlotte paused on traced the condensation on her long drink glass, she was clearly not buying the façade and didn’t even attempt to hide her incredulity. Tom sighed and paused before finally and surprisingly letting her into his dreary trail of thoughts.

“I see love and divorce and death all around me,’ he concluded, “but when I look back at me… what do I have to show for it?”

Charlotte slanted her head, “I fear you think the grass is greener elsewhere… And I understand you hate an empty house, but running from it won’t fill it either.”

“Running? I’m not…”

Charlotte raised a brow and curtly interfered, “in the short time I’ve come to know you, you are always so busy doing something. Instead of taking a real break like the rest of us. You’re not a machine though Tom.”

She made him feel, not alive, but aware. She was able to pick up on emotion he thought he’d kept hidden. She forced him to name his concerns out loud. And while he would wave it off when it was his mother asking or a close friend. She didn’t seem to fit into any category just yet. But he did not, could not neglect or deflect her questions. He enjoyed talking to her and hearing her authentic reply or vision on a matter. Familiar and honest, he needed that.

“Maybe,” he paused and sighed, “I feel so guilty that I am here and I did not bring Bobby along. It’s like I desperately want all these things, but I somehow can’t seem to manage it the way they should be managed.”

“Who says anything needs to be managed? Life is life. Like a river, it meanders through the scenery. There is no set path. Not the last time I checked anyway,” she chuckled.

“And I firmly believe that life guides us down a path we are meant to pass through. How we deal with it however is completely up to us.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it.”

She flashed him a playful smirk.

And then the intercom announced her flight was now boarding again.

4. And back again

“That’s me,” she stated.

“Up, up and away,” he nodded solemnly.

“To infinity and beyond,” she countered with a toothy grin.

Tom chuckled, “it felt good though, to say those things out loud.”

“I know, I make a cheap therapist,” Charlotte winked in good humour as she started collecting her things, ready to make her leave.

Smart and down-to-earth, he reflected.

“So, I was thinking,” Tom spoke as he copied her moves. “I do believe we are both in Edinburgh at the same time...”

“Mmm?” she looked back up to him again as she rose to her feet.

“How about we just - run into each other again over there, but on purpose this time,” he suggested, “get a bite to eat, show you around. If you’d like...”

“I would,” a quiet nod, “ I think I would like that.”

She was rewarded with his warm smile and the promise that he would call her. Leaning in for the casual peck on his cheek, she felt his arms envelop her in a casual embrace. His hand soothed her back softly. Charlotte closed her eyes for a second as a sense of safety fell upon her. His warmth, his mesmerizing cologne, his tender yet firm hold. The last of her rushing nerves were now resolutely squandered.  

It felt as though someone had pulled her safety blanket away just to show her what she was missing out on. It felt cruel, yet soothing at the same time. The tour was really getting to her now. And Charlotte caught herself wishing for Tom to please hold her just a little while longer.

Compassionate and easy on the eye, raced through his thoughts as her sweet perfume teased and he whispered, “I’ll see you soon.”

Slightly stepping out of their embrace, his hand traced her jawline and he leant in to place a soft kiss on her other cheek. To Charlotte it felt as though he moved in slow motion and she distinctly fell the press of his warm lips against her skin. A tingle in her stomach. She was fairly certain she forgot to kiss him back. How silly was that...

The hand she had resting upon his shoulder slid down his arm to where she bumped and then squeezed his hand. Charlotte nodded and manage to mumble, “nice seeing you.”

Mind Boggling though, how a conversation that flows so casual and easy one instant suddenly turns so anxiously tense the next.

"And you as well," Tom admitted. It was true, she was a breath of fresh air. He never realised he’d actually missed talking to her. “Have a safe flight,”

“Mmhm,” she scraped her throat, “I do hope you get on a safe plane… Enjoy your holiday,”

“Well actually, not a holiday.”

Charlotte saw her moment to step back, roll her eyes and shake her head disapprovingly while ridding herself of the sudden raging pheromones, “honestly!”

He shrugged and smiled sweetly, “goodbye Charlotte.”

“Goodbye Tom,” she slanted her head in a kind salute and off she was.

Luke couldn’t have chosen a better moment to stroll back into the bar. He’d furrowed his brows when he saw his client-turned-friend entangled with an unfamiliar looking woman and quickly high-tailed himself back to his booth again.

“So who was that then?” he murmured, “I leave you alone for a split second…”

He stood looking around for cameras, but Tom hushed him and motioned for him to sit down and stop making a spectacle of himself.

“That was Charlotte,” his friend was smiling again. That was a good turn to the day, finally.

“Charlotte?” Luke racked his brain, “well, she does seem lovely.”

“She’s – erm, ” Tom paused and then simply nodded, “yes she is. She is.”

“And how’s Sadie?” Luke lifted a brow sarcastically.

“Sadie? Sadie doesn’t hold a candle to Charlotte.”

It was all Luke needed to hear to realize he better start gathering some information on this ‘Charlotte', whoever she was...

[rkdaehwi]

SKILL PERFORMANCE PART I : PERFORMANCE

MGA5 contestant #5042 Sohn Youngjae Performing Momoland Bboom Bboom with a twist ( 00:04 - 01:57 ) Outfit

“ There are no limits to what you can accomplish ”

The realisation that he had moved on despite half the contestants this year getting cut from the get go brought way more joy with it than he had ever expected for it to do. Self assured as ever Eric hadn’t been able to imagine any other outcome, but with the amount of rejection he had faced, it felt as though just this once he might very well have been faced with elimination. Had that happened he might very well just have given up on everything and gone for a different career path after all, but right now with the affirmation the young boy felt as though he could take on the world.

He thought he had done amazing. He thought he had given them so much to work with, both in his initial audition and his performance on stage. But when it came to watching the episode on television he was disappointed to say the least. Receiving barely any screen time was another kick to the guts, but at the same time what it did was motivate Eric to work even harder from now on. If changing the atmosphere of his song choice wasn’t going to get him anywhere, then he had to rethink his entire approach. Part of him tried to reassure himself by saying that it was just because they had an awful lot of contestants to feature, but at the same time the worry was strong.

He didn’t want to get eliminated already. He wanted to make it further. Much, much further. To show everyone what he was capable of, to stand on stage bright and shining, to have everyone’s eyes locked on him in amazement. For that was the kind of life Eric Sohn believed himself destined to live.

But to stand out amongst the masses was not easy and while the dancer’s category wasn’t the most filled one the competition was still tough. In this chaos, Eric had to think about something only he was capable of doing. He couldn’t just waltz up there and do another dance cover. That was the problem about being a former contestant -- he had to show constant evolution or they would just start wondering why he even tried again when he wasn’t capable of bringing anything new to the table. Probably at least.

It wasn’t impossible though. He could definitely do this. And all on his own at that. When it came to dancing there was absolutely no way he could ask Dowoon for help, and while his mind briefly did fall on his trainee contacts Sunwoo and Seokwoo he figured that they would be far too busy to help him out with something like this. Neither of them seemed to be the target group for what Eric had in mind either. If anyone the only person who could have helped him was Sakura, but she would be far too occupied with preparing her own performance, and there was no way Eric could rely on a rival in this show to help him out perfecting his own stuff.

No, he truly was alone in this. But it was okay. It didn’t matter.

When it really came down to it, what was Eric’s special talents? Girl group dances was one and his gymnastics and flexibility was another. There had to be some kind of way to put what he could do into a performance of its own to amaze and impress, and taking inspiration from some very iconic gymnasts, Sophia DeJesus and Katelyn Ohashi, Eric was convinced that there was a way. But unlike his icons who put gymnastics before dance, he had to do it the other way around. Mainly his coach was the one choreographing his routines when he had to perform, but by now the boy that so much talent that he could have an influence on them as well, and he was certain that would help him even if he still wasn’t capable of putting together one whole performance. All he had to do was take elements from the original dance and add onto them. It was perfect.

Come performance day it was kind of wild to see the crowd having been halved, but in reality it was simply down to the amount of people it had been last year. In fact, seeing the huge amount of people that had been present for the previous episode was probably more absurd than this, but with its popularity ever growing it was only natural to assume that more and more applicants would show interest in the MGAs. While it was naturally sad that so many people had their chances taken away, there was only really one elimination that Eric was genuinely sad about. Mainly because he was biased towards his friend, but upon realising that Jisung hadn’t made the cut he had strongly considered filing some form of complaint or having them recheck the results, or maybe have their head checked for making such a bogus decision.

He didn’t understand it, he didn’t approve of it, and he most certainly couldn’t find it in him to accept it even though it was reality. But done was done and Eric just had to do his best for both of their sake and especially as the youngest contestant still in the competition. The feeling from last year that he was too young and inexperienced still rang strong within him, but Eric just had to prove them wrong and show that despite his age they hadn’t made a mistake in keeping him in the show.

The amount of chairs available to sit on had halved, and for a moment Eric remembered a comment from the episode about musical chairs. That could be kind of fun now that he thought about it, especially with so many people, but it probably wouldn’t become a thing even though it would end up feeling more and more like it as the chairs would be removed to reflect the change in the number of contestants. Placing himself behind a chair Eric let his hands rest on its back, for a full moment greatly contemplating removing and hiding it somewhere. As it often was with Eric once he got an idea it was incredibly hard to let go of it, and letting his eyes glance around to make sure no one was paying much attention to him (especially not any staffers) as he lifted it and started walking off. After getting a bit away from the stage he put it down in an inconspicuous place and wandered back to the set as if nothing had happened and took a seat of his own.

Now he just had to wait. And wait he did. Slowly the seats filled up as the show was drawing closer and closer to a beginning and people got finished talking with one another, and eventually all seats were taken. Except one person was still standing behind, obviously confused about the lack of chairs. If he remembered right from the overwhelming outing that had contained a multitude of MGA hopefuls her name was Choi Yena; that was one asset Eric supposed he had: he was (mostly) good with names. What he struggled with however was keeping a straight face for as long as possible, but he couldn’t help the coughing laughter that escaped him as the girl decided to sit down on a nearby lap instead of looking for her chair. Well, he thought to himself as he supposed that was a very classical cheat for musical chairs and that she was simply sticking to the theme even though she was most likely not aware of his intentions. At that moment Eric made a mental notice of keeping his attention on Yena, for she seemed like a very interesting person.

Soon after the judges appeared yet again in the form of the big five CEOs and there was no time to think about any lacking chairs or anything of the sort, and Eric’s full attention rested upon what was about to unfold. Last time had been a gamble, an attempt to showcase versatility more than anything else as was also seen in his attempt to rap, but this time he had decided to stick with what he actually knew he was good at. Time passed and eventually it became his turn to perform. Making his way up on stage with bouncy steps, Eric’s outfit alone already did a 180 from last time in its youthful appeal, but he was a boy who thought very much about what he wore, especially when on stage. Clothes was a very big part of a stage he thought.

Giving a deep bow he threw his upper body back up in a straight position and made a v sign before his eyes with his fingers. “It’s ya boy Eric Sohn ready to dance. Please take good care of me!” His word enthusiastic, Eric forgot to introduce himself by his Korean name in the rush of the moment, his focus instead remaining on trying to appeal as much as possible to the camera. If anything drew in people it was cute boys acting their age he figured, and if there was one thing Eric was good at it was having a fresh and upbeat image.

Which was why it probably wasn’t surprising to many people when the beat of the famous Bboom Bboom resounded within the set. It was probably easy to be disappointed in his song choice, especially knowing how great of a girl group fan he was, but Eric didn’t let such a thing bring him down. He had everything under control -- at least that was what he believed -- and was about to bring on a performance they weren’t going to easily forget. From his position seated on the floor he swung his head around with an alluring smile as the choreography dictated, but soon it became obvious that his performance wasn’t going to be anything like its original counterpart as Eric did a handstand and let his legs swing forward, his back bending in a way that didn’t seem possible for a human being.

Soon after his legs effortlessly went into the splits after which Eric performed one feat after the other to the music as part of his dance routine. If he remembered last year his group had received negative commentary for having too many fancy gimmicks, and he just hoped that this wouldn’t count for such since his ‘gimmick’ was only really his flexible body this time around, no hidden contraptions or anything of the sort.

Soon the iconic chorus arrived and Eric let his hands shoot forward, palms down as he portrayed an exact replica of this part with only the slightest alteration near the very end. The part that everyone knew was the one he figured it was better to leave alone and unchanged to not cause too much confusion within spectators. As time came to stick his thumbs in the air, Eric let out a loud “Great!” as he had seen the girls from Momoland do in their dance practice, more subconsciously than anything else as it wasn’t actually part of the song. He had simply watched the video so many times by now that the single word had been drilled into his mind.

Another ‘great’ following soon the music cut to a different part, much further into the song and Eric was back to bending his body in ways that were only possible with years and years of practice. He definitely wasn’t going to give up this round easily no matter what. And just as Eric thrust his body forward with his head and arms leaning backwards the music came to a close just before the last chorus began. He held his pose for a while before getting back up into a straight position and raising both arms in the air to help him get more force to his bow as he swung them downwards and bend his body. “Thank you for watching!” he beamed happily as he retreated from his stage to get back down to his seat.

[reinasescape]

Kyohei Rikudoh - Season 1 - Main Story Review

Trope: Oresama

Part of @officialvoltageotome‘s Review Campaign

For character reviews: Voltage Men at a Glance

Their relationship:

Nearing the 10th anniversary of the hottest boy band in Japan, the MC is dropped smack in the middle of a dilemma. After refusing to sleep to sleep with a creep to further her script writing career, she has been blackballed from the studio with which she was working. Instead the opportunity to fill in as a ghostwriter for Revance falls into her lap. Not one to simply let go of her dream, she finds herself not only writing lyrics, but living and acting as Revance’s assistant manager.

When the MC first meets him, he’s all up in her space. His on stage persona leaks into his interaction with her. He is a force to be reckoned with. It is only with time that he lets down his guard and becomes more human. His moments of kindness really shine through. He doesn’t believe in handing her the answer, but he’s willing to inspire her, whether through his life, standing up for her, or acknowledging her work. People who are truly kind don’t need to tout it out for the world to see. He’s fair to her, and that’s very important because he is her boss. You can see the subtle transition from this larger than life star to a down to earth support system.

Given that the MC has already made it to this point in her career, she is aware it is very difficult to get people to give her work. Yet she is still naive about the entertainment industry. I’m surprised how shocked she was to see how Kyohei “dealt” with Grenade’s time slot. Fame and fortune are fleeting, and to stay on top is even harder. But as the story progresses, she realizes this is what it takes to achieve his dreams. Whether people call it ruthlessness or resolve, Kyohei has his eye on the prize. The only time we see this goal take the backseat is at the very end. He wasn’t willing to compromise her to get the edge. Something meant more to him than this path that he’s walked for 10 years.

Cons: There are only two things that really stuck out to me in this story: pacing and the oresama trope portrayal.

For the first 6 ish chapters, the story really drags. It felt like there was a lot of filler and the problem of her struggle with her lyrics isn’t really shown to the reader. She writes one draft, and occasionally brainstorms. We don’t start seeing depth in either of our protagonists til a good half way through the story. Don’t tell, show me. But once you pass the first hurdle, the ball really starts rolling. Most of the plot is in the later half with the real antagonist coming to light.

The second point isn’t exclusive to this story, but Voltage’s way of type casting overall.

I understand the writers were probably aiming for the kabedon feel where closeness leads to an increased pulse and heart rate, but I don’t know why Voltage always has the “king” trope sexually harass the MC. Yes I get that they are confident in their sexuality and attractiveness and have probably not been lacking in companionship, but there are certain things such as personal space and boundaries that the Japanese culture finds more rigid than Western. To think that public kissing and feeding your partner is a big deal but invading personal space isn’t has a certain cultural dissonance in my head.

My recommendation: This is the first time I probably read the story in 3 years. At the time I also got the ending set because it made so much sense with the premise to hear the guys singing.  Reading it now 3 years later, I was initially frustrated with this story, but by the end of it, I fell in love with him again. It’s hard not to when he spends 6 entire chapters picking up the MC. Everyone wants someone like that in their life when times get tough, and you feel like you can’t get anything right with work. The music track is timed perfectly with the scenes to further the immersion.

Kyohei’s Season 1 Main Story isn’t the strongest in character development in the SITS lineup, but his subtle change is something to be appreciated. For an oresama main story, it can’t top Leon’s development in Star Crossed Myth or Jinpachi’s in Serendipity Next Door if you are looking for more slice of life, but if you want to skip to Episode 7 and fall in love on a quiet evening, he wouldn’t say no.

Like what you see? If you’d like to support me, feel free to visit my ko-fi page, and contribute to my caffeine intake. It is the lifeblood of creativity and insomniacs!

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